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[Dormack Shander]

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The ground trembled slightly under the heavy footsteps of his skeletal feet. Dormack strode across the forgotten grounds of Caina to his fortress. Frustrated, he forced the solid steel door open; sending it crashing into the cold stonewalls. The staff of his bardiche split slowly under his crashing grip. He snarled, quiet but heavily; if he could breath it would have been enough to extinguish a brazier.

A loud growl erupted from his mouth. Spinning abruptly, he swung the heavy bardiche into the wall, sending fragments of stone in different directions. Dormack clutched his bardiche in his skeletal hand once more and began pacing back and forth.

“The Order is weaker than ever before. There is no discipline, there are no guidelines, and the members have no regard towards the rule of The Ebon Skull. There is no love in the Order, but now however there is. Summer, she loves that…elf.” Dormack drove the butt of his bardiche into the ground and continued talking out loud.

“Vaen, the elf, and other light bringers were talking freely outside of the cathedral. Our sacred land is not sacred anymore when people can walk and talk freely amongst the Order.” Dormack cackled loudly, and continued. “That fool in the temple told me that when the Lich Lord speaks and points, we go and do. In my time, we have had three different Lord’s. They mean nothing but titles to me now, and even then titles mean little. Darmug has gone missing, along with some of my original brethren.”

Dormack stopped pacing and stood firmly, quietly he continued talking. “I spoke with Vaen, very briefly. He told me I could always fight for a different cause. I told him there was no respect amongst the Order anymore, and that it has weakened. I have never fought for anyone but Oblivion, except before my unbirth.” He snarled loudly. “Nor will I ever fight for anyone but Oblivion. I will fight for Oblivion, but under the Order’s commands no more. They will claim that Oblivion will be angry with me; they will claim that I will become weaker. But Oblivion will cherish me more than the Order itself.”

He looked up towards the ceiling and spoke loudly holding his hands high into the air. “Sure I must fight if I would reign! Increase my courage my Lord. I’ll bear the toil endure the pain! Supported by thy word. Etheng!”

Dormack threw his bardiche against the broken wall and turned around. He strode away calmly, his skeletal feet shaking the ground ever so slightly. The rubble from the wall crumbled down and covered the staff of his bardiche, the dust sprinkled on the blade.