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[Tyrael N'Veaire]

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The half-elf strode through the slums of Nujel'm with confidence. His heavy dragon scale armor shone a bright red under the Feluccian moon. His chest was bare, no tunic would deter a well placed dagger, but his confidence grew at every step towards the palace. He slipped through the archway to the main part of the city, his eyes set on the large marble building so close to him now. The doors to the palace swung open a few minutes later and admitted him entrance to see the ruler of the isle.

The ruler was rather large, as were his councilmen, years of having too much to eat had obviously taken it's toll on their bodies. While the people starved, this man had taken his fill. The ruler opened his mouth to speak.

"What do you want, rat?"

"Yer throne, of course." Tyrael said with a sickening grin, as the scales on his gloves grated together and made a high pitched sound. The ruler of the isle opened his mouth again, but no sound came out. The room had been filled with the spirits of long dead criminals. Murderers, thieves, crooked businessmen and the like, all holding ebony daggers made to look like black dragons, the tails of which were blades. They advanced towards the council, and fear registered on the men's faces. The spirits behind them raised their blades iand brought them down in unison, blood spattering the wall and floor. Tyrael just laughed harder every time the spirits stabbed them, until there were 7 new spirits in the room, all looking at their corpses. All but those 7 vanished without a trace, and Tyrael chanted Augus Luminos. A blinding white light filled the room, and those 7 spirits were no more when it disappeared.

Around midnight, mysterious parchments appeared all over the city, stuck to walls with black dragon daggers, proclaiming Tyrael N'Veaire the new ruler of Nujel'm under the Felluca moons.
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Tyrael N'Veaire
Czar of Nujel'm under the Feluccian moon
Boss of the Black Dragon Corps