Balrog - Prose
Life as it seems no longer exist but rather the undying crave of killing and madness. Your flame is dreaded by many and your horrific roar of death burns every breath of life it passes.
But deep under the dark cold mines, you become impatient. The world no longer revolve around your dark fortress. Your evil is nothing more than a rock chipped off from its large mass. Your aged power is buried under the caves of your realm, eager to hear the scream of your prey and the blood you would spill.
Evil never dies and pain will never fade until the time comes when your fate is doomed by the grey wizard.