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[Aeloth Nazduin]

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The thick night fog of the corrupted forest seemed to protectively shroud Charnel Hill that evening, completely cloaking it from view to those that may gaze upon it from the outside. Within the chamber of the ancients was the lich lord, seated upon his throne cradling the ebon skull akin to a mother nurturing her infant. The pale glow of the braziers reflected upon the ebon skull, adding a redish tint to it's already foreboding blackish-violet hue. As he ran his skeletal fingers along the skull's flawless surface, Admoreth felt a light surge of entropy flow through his body. His skeletal frame went through a brief paralysis, followed by a ghastly scream echoing off of the aged walls of the chamber.

The lich lord sprung to his feet, almost letting the ebon skull slip from his grasp. He embraced the skull tight with a malignant hiss, eyeing his surroundings cautiously. Admoreth paced about the chamber, the soft tapping of his bones touching the stone surface echoing lightly. Mere seconds seemed to pass, although the seconds were hours. Admoreth delicately place the Ebon Skull on his throne, and gazed upon it questioningly.

"Sanctus and Arlin's men... so filled with the undeniable thirst for power in a dieing world. Skyfire wishes to make Umbra his own, and the half-ogre follows him as a dog would to his master. We were greeted by an entire legion of savages this day, although you need not be told.. We are sure you are more than aware."

Admoreth paced between the northern and southern walls of the chamber, his eyes still locked on the ebon skull which sat atop the throne to the east. The skull gave of a subtle hint of a violet aura, perhaps in response.

"And this... Dark Order. Stories of old speak of their senseless bloodshed without so much as a second thought. What of them? What fueled such barbaric behaviour? We know little of what they have become now, mayhaps they hold the gift of the serpent's tongue. They may do well to slither into the ranks of the Regency."

Admoreth's pacing gathered with a bit more speed, the energies swirling in his eye sockets formed weak whirlpools of grey energy. His left hand tightened into a fist, creating a series of snaps in his skeletal hand.

"Ah.. the Regency. Quite the group. Their naivity may very well be their downfall. With the sole purpose of fueling a code long since defunct, such mass confusion can only end with a road paved with blood, tears and bone. Elven rulers alligned with human supremecists.. How else can this end? A line of joined hands? We think not.."

The pacing turned rather rythmic, each heel strike into the stone succeeding the preceeding in volume. Admoreth's hand reached out towards the ebon skull as a beckoning of sorts, and the skull responded with a whisper of a glow, butt his glow did not fade. It remained.

"The humanis... such hatred, such elitism... their insatiable disgust for those not of their kind can only lead to chaos. Their hands are stained with blood, much like all of your followers, current and former..."

Admoreth's movement halted completely, as he gazed upon the Ebon Skull with amazing focus. He slowly moved toward it, and sank to one knee, His eye level matching that of the Ebon Skull's.

"..Could it be?"

The Ebon Skull shot rays of entropy in all directions, which eventually met Admoreth's frame with an embrace.

"Of course.. so blind the lot of us have been, master." Admoreth hissed with a faint laughter.

Admoreth sprung to his feet and pointed a boney finger at the skull.

"Oblivion, you never left!" Admoreth shrieked with delight. "Even before the refouding of the Order, you have sewed the seams of Chaos in this world so near to it's final days!"

Admoreth clutched the skull and held it tightly, his body radiating with entropic light and fumes. Swiftly he moved out of the Chamber of the Ancients, and ascended the steps to the Altar of the Ebon Skull. He began to cackle uncontrolablly, and the Ebon Skull's glow grew brighter with each maddening laugh. Admoreth placed the Ebon Skull atop it's resting place. He then looked to the skies, pulling his closed fists towards his chest.

One phrase echoed through the corrupted forest and Umbra that ghastly night:

Dakt oi Lavas'krosisgholad dakt li raletin..