In a castle quite forgotten

The ghosts of elven ladies dancing

Past forgotten halls of wonder

But deeper still there dwells

She who lusts for power

She who bathes in her own blood

And the blood of her lovers.

Always on her wayside

The smell of death and decay.

She walks with her pet dragon

Awaiting for the day,

The day she will she the light again

And been free of the song of the mages

And there soulless death ears

That trapped her here

Alone in her might

Here she waits

The lady Deathstill