Patience?

Patience?

Patience?

It had been eons for him, and yet, he was always told to practice patience. During that time, he had learned the craft that was needed in order to survive in this realm. He had moved up the ranks, through one means or another, always striving to make himself stronger.

Patience?

And now, patience had paid off.

Through the fault of an old, arrogant, dragon, a tear had come that would lead to the world of the living. And that tear would lead to the power which he desired?

Oh yes, he knew that she had come to spy on the realm which her previous mentor had condemned. He had watched her as she stepped onto its plane, shaken from an encounter she swore never did. One''s mind was the most powerful thing to create fear. There was nothing that he could induce that her mind would not better. No, the mind was the ultimate fear.

Fear? oh, to taste it. Her fear was ripe, but controlled? for now.

He rested upon the stone that lay near the tear, and quietly watched as she finally returned to her body and lingered there within the mausoleum. She wanted to stay; he could feel her need ripple through the fae. Oh, she would have her chance to come and rest in her hell, he would see to that? but that time would come of its on will.

He knew she would once more walk to the tear and inspect it. Hers'' was a curiosity born of danger. She was reckless in her curiosity. Good.

He pulled the heat that radiated from his body deep within, cooling the air that flowed around him. He would let her come, and let her see the simple elf that sat there. She knew his name, so that too would need to be changed, as well as all the other distinguishing features so that he would resemble that hated race. It was a simple enough trick, and one which the mind readily accepted. Present those with what they want to see, than they will see it.

He sat, transfigured, and waited. The elven high mage waited. Ashen waited.

He sat and watched her for the longest of a second, for time had no meaning to him, and in that single tick of a clock, he could weight the soul. Hers was a strong one, but one that could be broken. He would enjoy the game should be present.

It was time to start that game.

His voice was musical, singing with the sound of the hated Eldar. Yes, his mother was of that race. They thought that they were strong, but they were nothing more than weak, pathetic tools. Yet his voice held none of that hate, none of that anger. It was pure musical, and his tone was simply that of a frightened child.

"Forgive my startling you. I''ve been trapped here in?" his hands swept around him, indicating not only the place, but the idea of the place, "for what seems almost an eternity. Caught be one of?" his shudder spoke volumes "?by one of them. It was only through their arrogance that I was able to escape. You wouldn''t know what it cost me to find out that there was one who could traverse between this? this Hell, and home."

He stood then, and pushed himself away from the stone which he sat. He never once gave the hint that he knew anything of the tear, nor of anything else around him. After all, he only knew of where to go to find the living that could traverse the veil, not the manner of the place which it was.

"My name is Ashen." It was safe to use that name? none in Hell knew it, for it was a name long since dead. "I don''t suppose you could help me?" His voice was shaking and the look on his face was one of pleading. He needed her help.

He had sat there, and watched the elven women vanish before him.

A cold smile spread across his lips as he let the hated form leave his body. It was bad enough that he had to endure some parts of being an elf... it was quite another in matters of actually appearing as one.

A seed had been planted. That was all that was needed. He would nourish that seed until the time was ripe for it to break and grow.

Ahh, yes.

One must not forget the new players to this chess game. It would seem the old dragon was marshalling his allies. Good. Let them come. It would be best to be rid of the lot of them in one simple stroke. The new additions would not hinder his plan. They merely proved to be a side enjoyment.

The undead of the 6th level were almost ready. Each day that passed, each whisper that was uttered to them brought them closer to the edge. They hungered for something that was upon the old dragon's islands. Some books.. but what use were books? It didn't matter, he would look into these just as he would look into the rumor of some kind of special sword that was there as well.

Time.. it was all simply a matter of time. Eons had passed just to get to this point.. what was a few more days.. weeks.. months? They would pass in a blink, and then the time would come.

The question was.. what to do with the three elves that were on the islands...

Malchor Arcturus was dead but that didn't mean he was stupid. He approached the General with practiced fear that was uncommon to him. In life he'd been one of the most feared Generals in the Annaran military. He had led dozens of campaigns slaughtering any that stood against him. He didn't leave the slaughter to his soldiers either, he had reveled in the feel of warm blood as it spilled from the bodies of his fallen foes. Despite his past depredations, despite all his years in hell, he had been unprepared for the agonies inflicted upon him by Rael the first and only time he had challenged his authority. He would not make that mistake again, dead not stupid.

As he approached Rael was looking out over the plains that were now filled with his horde of undead and demons of every description. Malchor stepped up next to him and saluted, "Your army is ready General. At your command we will begin, it will be good to taste battle again."

Malchor signaled one of his men down on the plain and a horn sounded, followed by another and another as the call to march was passed on throughout the horde. Malchor watched for a moment feeling the familliar stiring in his blood and with a downward slash of his hand a huge gateway split the air out on the plain. The demonic forces surged forward towards the gate. The world of the living called them onwards and they thirsted for their long awaited vengeance.

Malchor watched for a moment and turned back. "Our scouts report that the elf is not at the manor and it is lightly defended. The gate opens directly onto her lands. We will have secured the area within the hour milord. If you can spare me I would like to join my troops on the field. The blood calls." Rael nodded and Malchor transported himself to the gateway. He stepped into the land of the living once more to bring blood and death.

The manor's defenses fell in the early hours of the morning and by sunrise the once fertile farmland that surrounded it had been razed. Newly raised dracoliches and demons had begun the sytematic burning of the forests as the warlocks began to open gateways to various levels of hell to bring forth more of their brethren. Malchor gave each of the new arrivals a choice, they could either join the growing army or go free across the lands as long as they didn't interfere with his armies operations. About half had decided to stay, swelling the ranks of the army even further. The other half he figured he might have to deal with eventually but until then they would cause death and mayhem and further distract and confuse the defenders of this world.

Malchor waited in the entrance hall of the newly claimed manor. His people were currently despoiling the interior and he left them to it. The entrance hall was one of the few places that had been completed so he had chosen it to meet with his visitors. One at a time ten cloaked figures entered the room, they hid their faces in darkness and stayed as far from each other as they did from Malchor. He simply grinned at them. "Welcome Ladies and Gentle-dragons," he scanned the room slowly as he talked. "I wish to...congratulate you on your ability to see the inevitable. All of you have agreed to perform certain functions for my master in return for certain concessions. I have brought you here to seal this agreement." Malchor signalled and one of his servants entered the room. One of the hooded figures gasped. "I see you recognize him. He was a most fortunate addition to my staff." The servant handed out glasses of wine and retreated. "As you can see, we are unstoppable. I expect word of your successes within the week." He lifted his glass, "To victory." They all drank and moved to leave quickly.

Malchor savored the his drink and their fear as they fled with as much dignity as they could muster. He disliked spies but they were a necessary part of his profession. He much prefered honest combat and the spilling of blood but even he had his orders. He wondered if any of them had been able to taste the blood of his master in the wine. Whether they knew it or not they were bound to Rael now. He handed his glass to the waiting servant. "I wish to dine on dragon steak tonight, ensure the cooks find a young one, I will be most displeased if the meat is tough. Oh and prepare the master bedroom and bring me a pair of captives after I have eaten. I wish to partake of all of my old pleasures." He said as he swept out of the hall to check on his armies progress.

"Of course sir," Giles said quietly before continuing about his duties.

Hershal Nornun stalked through the brush. The General had sent them out to intercept a scouting group from the demon armies. They had picked up the tracks an hour before and were slowly approaching the column. His squad had spread out and were to attack on his signal.

The demons were moving unhurridly through the forest. Arrogant buggers. Hershal thought to himself as he released a bolt of electricity into the wagons and charged after it hearing his troops doing the same, We'll teach them to respect the dragons. Explosions sprang up all through the demon ranks and they turned to meet their attackers with magic and steel. He leaped over a fallen log slashing down through the upraised arm of one of the demons. It screamed and fell to the ground. He spun the sword to plunge it into his opponent and stopped. A young girl lay screaming before him, her arm had been severed by his strike. He looked around. The demons that they had seen before were gone, replaced by women and children...refugees. An illusion.

Hershal looked around at his troops who were looking at him in horror. What have I done? He looked down at the dying child and never saw the demons that sprung out of the woods around them. He was one of the lucky ones, he was dead when the demons began to feed.

She stood on the great stone balcony, multifaceted eyes on the horizon as she felt outwards for a sign of something other than the despair that she felt emanating from Phal. The small dragon had stayed lodged on the balcony for the past few weeks. Odd but yet he had never been that far from her side. She was more worried that he hadn't even taken the time to hunt, yet, as was her nature she had seen to it that he had been fed. She pulled the emerald green cloak tighter about her, it somehow failing to ward off the chill that sat in her bones. Thinking of food, her stomach startled her from her thoughts of something that she just quite couldnt fathom. She had heard bad rumors from without the manor and had sent a few out to see if there was any merit to what she had heard. They had disturbed her deeply and coupled with the fact that she hadn't had word from Tass in weeks didn't make her disposition any better. She sighed as she wished that he was there with her. Unbidden, thoughts of the last conversation she had with him creeped up again. He had acted odd but she was not one to go against his wishes and would do as he had asked. As he had wanted, she had stayed sequestered with Indigo.

Another rumble of her stomach made up her mind and she turned away from the balcony's edge and went off in search of Indigo. The girl...young woman, she corrected herself, had come quite into her own. She had tried putting her foot down but she had failed miserably trying to argue logic with Tass and when Khirsah had agreed to take on Indigo's lessons, well, she knew when to throw in the towel. She decided that her fears were not to be the girl's own and almost ungraciously she had given her consent. She knew that Indigo would strive even harder if she knew that her mother was against it. At least she didnt have to worry about Indigo sneaking off anymore trying to learn the extent of her abilities on her on. Pausing, she heard the muffled tune of someone humming. She smiled as she knew already that her daughter was reading. And so it was in Tass' study that she found her, a glimpse of ebony tresses peeping around stacks of books. She had grown used to the sight in the past few weeks and if the books gave her solace, it was more than she had at the moment. She cleared her voice, hesitant to even disturb her but she needed her to accompany her tonite.

"Mamere," the young woman called from behind an overly large tome, expertly closing it and sliding it aside, her hand flinching as if to grab another. "I didnt see you there"

"Is ok," Spike smiled as she spoke. "I was wondering if ye can see to accompany me for a bite. I need to speak with ye, and I promise to let ye see to the books afterward." She was grateful that Indigo for once didnt want to argue the point that she had more to read. She had already been through Tass' library thouroughly. Indigo joined her in the hall and as they walked, their whispers contained at Indigo's silent command went unnoticed.

After a light dinner, a girl came in and poured up Spike's evening's glass of brandy. With sniffer in hand she placed a kiss to the top of her daughter's head. She went into her rooms and settled down into the plush sitting chair that stood beside the hearth. As she did everytime Tass left her side, she kept her evening vigil at fireside. He seemed to find it amusing to startle her by appearing from within the flames. She hummed a soft tune as she waved slender fingers over the glass, warming slightly as she asked of it. Sipping at the brandy she let her eyes dance with the rhythm of the flames as they leapt about. The days weight seemed to hit her all at once as she placed the glass to the table beside the chair. Her eyes slowly closed as she gazed at the hypnotic dance of the flames. It was no surprise that her last waking thought was the imagining of seeing Tass step from within the flames. Just a dream she whispered to herself as the blackness overwhelmed her. A moment's breath as she realized what was happening, too late to fight it she tried to ward herself as she slipped away.

Indigo snatched up an errant peice of bread and with book underarm she decided to see if what she found in the written word truly existed. She thought she knew all of the old dank hallways, unused since forever she thought. Khirsah had taught her well enough to know she should never be closed minded. Mamere would surely beat her if she was caught but that incessant need to know the everywhere's to this place had got the better of her yet again. The lecture, that she swore her mother had written behind her eyelids, had been given till she had it memorized, and yep, was worth the trouble. She knew she was safe here, Papa Tass had told her so, so it must be true. A last glimpse at the page she had earmarked as she shoved the bread into her mouth, then a quick glimpse to be sure she was unseen, she couldnt help but smile as she whispered the words the Elder had taught unknowingly, he had led her to believe that anyway, and she too slipped away from sight. She could not afford to be followed by Mamere's spies tonight.

They hadn't caught him yet. Trestun Scall leaned his back against the tree and breathed in and out heavily. He knew he hadn't lost them. By now he figured he couldn't lose them.

He'd been running for three days, ever since his unit had been overrun while escorting refugees out of the warzone. They had arrived at the port city of Nerthus to find it in flames and the demons waiting for them. His comrades had died there or sometime during the nightmare that followed. Three days of running and hiding.

But he had seen. He had seen and they wanted him dead before he could tell anyone. He just need to escape the wards the demons had set. If he could just get far enough ahead of them he could transform. He would fly and warn Lord Momus. What they were doing would destroy this world. It would destroy all the worlds. He had to tell someone, warn someone.

He heard the hounds coming and he was off again, behind him the trees were burning. The demon were burning the forests of Kadir. He didn't know if it was to find him or simply because they hated any and everything that lived. It didn't matter, he couldn't go back regardless.

He looked back and he thought he caught a glimpse of them in the flames. They'd have to catch him first.

He ran.

It waited.

Thousands of years had passed since it last had felt the energy flowing like this. It had waited on the edge of this world. Watched as the dragons came and formed it to their will. Waited for one with not just the power but the thirst for destruction that it needed in order to rise again, to feed again. But none of these creatures could be used. The dragon lord protected them and he was abhorhent in his respect for life.

So it waited.

Then the female came. It could feel the destruction clinging to her. But she denied the power. Refused it when it could be hers and refused herself in the process. But it had a scent now. It followed the trail. The dimensions opened before it as it sent out its creatures, things that lived between the worlds, things that had no name. They brought it word of the source of the taint. An entire civilization cast down but somehow they still existed.

It watched and it waited.

Then the dragon lord broke the barriers and it rejoiced. Soon, it would have the one it sought. They came through and it found the one it wanted. A despot, a general, a bloody conqueror already, the creature was perfect for its needs. Glory to the Nameless, it had found its new lord and soon the universe would shake.

It called. It taught. It seduced. Its new lord accepted the bargain and they began to merge. The energy flowed through it and into its lord. They drank deep of this world's very life essence. When they moved on nothing would be left but a barren husk.

Malchor reached out with his mind the way the voice had taught him. He could feel the barriers around this world. He traced them with his mind learning as he went, gaining power as he learned more.

Already he had control of Matlal and Kadir, the remaining living had been hearded into pens to act as food and entertainment for his ever growing force. Already he had doubled the size of his armies as the people of the isles were decimated and now his people had made their first forays on to Odhran. Soon he would control this entire world. The voice promised him it was only the first.

Malchor looked down on the slaves as they dug downwards. He could feel it getting closer, soon he would have his prize. The voice called and he would follow. And then he would rule.

Malchor could feel it now. He walked slowly down into the excavation site. As he passed the workers they fell lifeless their essence sucked from their bodies. One by one they died. Before he was halfway down into the pit the word had spread and the slaves ran before him in a panic. The power grew as he got closer the slaves huddled on the other side of the pit as he approached the center. A black liquid pushed upwards out of the hole and flowed towards him. He stepped into it and it flowed up his body covering his whole body. The power suffused him. He reached out with his thoughts and the remaining slaves died as one, their souls adding to his power.

He and the voice were now one.

Malchor felt it when the former lord of this world returned. He smiled. There was a crack, somehow when the lord returned something had prevented the wards from closing. Something that felt...familiar. He couldn't get anything through yet but given time he would be able to break through.

He could feel the energies flowing from the land and the people and into him. Soon he would suck this world dry and then the real fun would begin.

Malchor walked out of the pit and with a gesture the dead slaves staggered to their feet. No need to waste good resources. He climbed onto the back of his mount and looked around at the destruction he had wrought and he laughed.

His watched quietly as the man stepped from the rift between the worlds. He was a man he had seen before, but had never seen. A man who lied in stone. A man of power. A man who could destroy him. There were few of those kinds in the Hell''s, yet he came from there none the less.

It was wise that he had sheltered himself atop the mountain. It took much for those who came here to protect themselves enough that they would not freeze in an instant, and that gave him the chance to stay hidden as their focus was on their own lives.

He had started this war, but it was his subordinate who had taken it full blown, and in the end, ruined it. There was much to say about being patient. Malchor was not that.

He turned then, leaving those he brought into this land to their fate and slipped into a deep crevice that he had found atop the mountain. He was free from the Hell''s at least, and it was time to be patient once more.