You begin muttering an incantation but your magic falters. You have lost the gift of the priest, the light has left you. Perhaps this began when you took the eyeball, but the realization is too late. You are empty; the true light was your soul.
Dragons, even baby dragons, cannot be killed without strong magic. You say one last spell, hoping the True one will hear it. In your final act, a small breeze carries your thought away to the Gallade mountains.
The baby dragon screeches its deadly wail. You die quickly, full of regret.
Your Journey ends here. Please email this code: QT-004
Dragons, even baby dragons, cannot be killed without strong magic. You say one last spell, hoping the True one will hear it. In your final act, a small breeze carries your thought away to the Gallade mountains.
The baby dragon screeches its deadly wail. You die quickly, full of regret.
Your Journey ends here. Please email this code: QT-004