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[Narae'Dran]

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The Elven Palace, the home of the Elves, was crumbling. What was once a beautiful creation of white marble and Enchanted gardens was now a dark, drafty shell of what once ways. He was pleased with the Hex the Necromancer had placed upon it and his cost was a mere rune. Yes, the Elves were indeed scattered now and his progress back to –his- throne was just that much closer. His son was no match for his deeds and Alexander spent his time in confusion as to who was who.

“Aye the beauty of it all!” He spoke as he danced around the falling Palace. His flowing hair blowing in the cold winds that now blew in from the fallen walls around him. Nothing could please him more at the site of it all. “…The spear!” His dancing came to an abrupt halt. His mind was a whirlwind and for the first time he felt danger. “They are up to something. I can feel it. My son has been here…” Narae’Dran knelt on one knee as he reached his hand down to touch the flooring on what use to be a grand Palace. “I can smell you Khyl’Dran. Your very presence was here not so long ago. What plan have you concocted? Do you honestly think I will not find out!” He shouted as he stood up.

Anyone whom could have been watching would of seen the obvious that this elf, once a Noble, a King, was now quite insane. Insanity and Darkness were his friend now. His eyes glowed with it as his thoughts were on the spear, Alexander…and gems.

His stance now stood facing the Kingdom stone as his hand reached out to touch it. As if a bolt of lighting had come from the stone itself, as to keep him at bay, to the tips of his fingers he quickly drew his hand back. Anger grew up into him as he shouted, “ This stone shall be mine! I shall have it!” His thoughts drifted as his began to ponder why his son would send the elves to gather gems. “Why gems?” He whispered to himself. He slipped down to the floor to think, plot and plan his next move.