one, drasimier
"One, Drasimier, remember whom you sereve." Weaver sits on
her thrown shorded by darkness. SHe leanes closer to her crystal ball
as nearby on the dark floors one of the dark servent slithers closly.
"MIstress." SHe wishperes in Weavers ears. "Look
Mistress, look at his eyesssss.... look at them and her, the redness
of her fac.e Is dras to be trusted? HE is after all....HUman"
If posible weavers face got a little bit paler then sheet white and
she turned to the servent. "Perhaps yoou think you should check
up on them hmmm Natoimn?" THe snakc like sorceress
smiled."OH it would be an honor." she said slithering into
the ark nothingness.
