They call me Morgan Doyle, creator and leader of not only the Warrior House, but Bristle Crios. This is my home and my house, all of which are welcome to all who come. I am a warm and welcoming man with a kind spirit.

Make yourself at home and feel free to ask questions. There are plenty who are willing and open to assisting anyone who needs it.

It was a long road, although not when one measures it in time. No, more in growth and development, change and understanding. What's time to something who might watch ten million years pass beneath his feet' Those, or things like those, were the thoughts that lingered in the mind of the beast during his walk back towards a certain house in the Bristle Crios grounds.

It's an easy thing for the creature to simply project his thoughts into space, although the words haunt the place for quite some time, distant sounding words, hollow in nature and more akin to a bell tolling it's final, somber sound. While the news he's soon to share with those who call the Warrior House home is one that does him much honor, he can't help it. What's inside sounds the same, it always had and it always will.

"As some of you may or may not know, the Warrior House has come under new leadership. Some of you may not know me, and I know that I don't know all of you, but I hope we can change that in the near future. This is all new to me, leading something that's designed to bring peace to a group of people. I've lead armies in war, but never friends in life. And with that in mind, I need all of you to help make this the best that we can. Alone, we are nothing, but together we can be everything. Everything for each other and everything for this place. I came here alone and running from my past, running from myself and with no place to call home. I found Bristle Crios and I found a home. That, my friends, should be the purpose here, to provide a home for those in need and comfort for those who are lost. Strength for the weak and hope for the hopeless."

He paused there, waiting to make sure that the words would remain with him, spoken to any who enter these hallowed halls.

"Again, some of you may not know me. Marshall Devlin, but most people call me Dev. That being said, I've another name, and some of you may know me by it. Often enough, I'm called Azreal. My history is pointless, and if there's a need for someone to know, feel free to ask. Suffice to stay that I'm considered one of the Primal Arch Angels, although I've seen both sides of a Celestial being's nature. In fact, if there is ever a question or a concern regarding anything, please don't hesitate to bring it to me."

Once more he stopped, and once more he glanced around the place he'd called home. There were memories that he could single out, times and places, people and faces. Instead, he thought more of the place's general purpose. He thought more of home.

"Like I said, I've lead armies and I've ruled over planes, but never in peace. Along the way, I've learned the hardest lessons in the hardest ways. War solves nothing and death proves no point. The martyr may think he lives on in the minds of men, but that great killer, Time, spares no remorse for those who are gone. They will be forgotten, more so if they die alone. I do know this, however. When we stand together as a group, when men and women, angels and demons, children and the elderly, beasts and all manner of life stand together, they leave an imprint on time that even we among the host can not ignore. No, when we act together there is nothing that we can not do. And that, my friends, is what I want to see. I want to see us stand united, and I want to see us live together in peace. And if we must die, then I can only hope that we will fall at each other's side, and it is my fondest wish that when this world is over, we will be remembered not for what we did apart, but what we did as proud members of not only this house, but as honored members of Bristle Crios."

With the words barely out of his mouth, the halfbreed turned on a heel and headed towards the door and out.

For once, the King of the Fallen stood in front of his house in full regalia, allowing the splendor or such a being to shine through into this world. Arrogance blended with humility, anger with great compassion, hate warred with love and a callous disregard pulled against the concerns of one who sees the world as full of his flock; the wolf and his sheep.

For this day, he wore the ceremonial armor, the same armor he'd worn while standing in front of legions. The wings, as dark as ever, flared out behind him, myriad strands of energy as black as night itself danced above the tattered grey robes wrapped around burnished and dented armor, and at his hip sat Transdence, the master blade crafted by this land's greatest smith. From under the hood, his voice was bells announcing the end, it was winds bringing new life.

"As many of you may or may not know, there has been a certain sighting of demons, yes" Many of you know that I am, or was, an Angel, yes" Sadly, many of you do not know that in falling, I became as much a creature of the Abyss as I ever was a creature of the Hosts. However, I make no war upon humanity. In fact, I can not. Were you to all stand before me in anger, my weapons would be useless. I, sadly enough, am not built to wage war upon mortals." With a shrug, the armor lifted, his wings beat the air in an almost nervous air, and had he a mouth, the lines would have tightened. This is not a confession he makes easily.

"But, that's neither here nor there. In this time of demons, we must make allowances for defense. Towards this, I have placed my own....demons around this area, for the defense of one and all. I would ask that you are not afraid of these, they are my Erinyes, and they will be female in shape. Tempting, they are. I would not advise interacting with them on a physical level, for they will surely break your heart." The laughter that fell from his hood was wise, and it was also amused. He would know, of course.

"That is all. We will be defended, even if it was for nothing. I would sooner be prepared for something that does not come to pass, rather then overlook an inevitability."