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[Drayden Calamyr]

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The Patriarch paced in the courtyard of their Lord's Manor. Months had ebbed by and still there was nothing. The presence of his Lord had faded into nothingness. No longer could he commune with The Masked One, Vhaeraun. No longer did he feel his deity's presence, his power surrounding his body. It was like a cold seeping in before a hard freeze.
Drayden looked up at the likeness of Vhaeraun and sighed softly. It was hardly a likeness anymore, the face now was the same as the Patriarch's.
Fate is not without a sense of irony... The Manor had grown eerily still since the absence of The Masked One had occurred. The lights had gone out, the familiar faerie fire floating about the various rooms had gone out, and Drayden was tasked with relighting them every day using his own energies...not those granted by his esteemed Lord. The Patriarch looked up at the statue for one last moment, his mind crying out into the still and empty void that seemed to never abate.
My lord...I am here to do you bidding. Please heed my call.
There was no answer...only an empty void, almost as if his calls were being unheard.
Drayden shook his head warily and made his way back inside to Gorhun's study. The seat he had left undisturbed, not even sitting in it himself since his Brother in Shadow had left. A light layer of dust could be seen on the chair from sitting for years unused. The Patriarch had fallen to his old demons. Several mirrors were smashed from his punches a few weeks ago, his dried blood still lingered on the shattered glass. Something in the room was different....something was odd. The Drow looked to the foot of Gorhun's seat in the chamber and noticed a black covered book with no markings at all upon the cover. He walked over and knelt beside it, pausing a moment before picking it up.
Without uttering a word, he calmly made his way to the cluttered table he had used as work area and moved several empty whiskey botttles out of the way.
The Patriarch made himself comfortable and opened a new bottle and filled a glass with the brown fluid, setting down the bottle labelled, "North Seas Finest". The Drow took a sip of the whiskey and opened the tome, almost dreading what might be contained in this mysterious book...