[originally by Emperor]
Mightiest am I, but I am not alone in this cosmos
of mine. For the black hills consists of black
souls, souls that already dies one thousand
deaths. Behind the stone walls of centuries they
breed their black art. Boiling their spells in
cauldrons of black gold. Far up in the mountains,
where the rain fall not far, yet the sun cannot
reach. The wizards, my servants, summon the souls
of macrocosm. No age will escape my wrath. I travel
through time and I return to the future.I gather
wisdom now lost.I visit again the eternally
ancient caves, before a mighty Emperor thereupon
came. Watching the mortals "discovering" my
chronicles, guarded by the old demons, even
unknown to me. Once destroyed their souls are
being summoned to my timeless prison of hate. It
is delightful to feast upon the screaming souls
that was destroyed in my future. How many wizards
that serve me with evil.I know not. My empires has
no limits. From the never ending mountains black,
to the bottomless lakes.I am the ruler and has
been for eternity's long. My wizards are many, but
their essence is mine. Forever there are in the
hills in their stone homes of grief. Because I am
the spirit of their existence. I am them.