Large ship stranded on our shores.
Spoiled food, rotten wood. Merphisz would laugh at the state of it.
Clouds swirling around, misty blue like fog on the horizon, but murky. Humans inside, or something once human. Mushy and soft, rip open to reveal glowing hearts still beating in an unfamiliar rhythm.
Weaklings! Ancients chose the wrong champions! Now is the time of the Drak! Drak’Dal will cross the open waters and squish the puny fleshlings! Rebuild the empire!
