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[Lucian{Nzd}]

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The driplets of water from the leaking roof echoed in the eery room. Only a stone table, stone chair, and one hanging torch decorated the room. In the far back corner of the room, there lay a limp body, with the head missing.

Lucian sat topless, with small bandages covering his wounds. His left forearm rest comfortably on the edge of the table. His fingers stroked the hair of the womens pale head. The blood had been drained.

"Disgusting low-born. How dare she even set a gaze upon me." He spoke coldly.

His left hand quided the quill into a bowl of crimson red blood. He began writing.

Aeloth,

My dear brethern, it's been a while. There arn't many of us pure-bloods left, and the ones that are need to be gathered. This world has become too far corrupted with the lives of low-borns and slaves.

News of your brethern Mairil had reached me. I travelled to this city of Sanctus, to see what it was like. I wasn't impressed, at all. Their leaders were low class, low borns, and one was an elf that has betrade her pureblood heritage.

I came across another group of pathetic low borns, just as ugly and insignificant. The two armys were about to seige war upon eachother. I took this as an opportunity to strike, and seek a sliver of revenge for Mairil. I brought death to many of their soldiers. I would have like to have seen both sides slaughtered, but there is only so much that can be granted to me.

I have sent this letter in regards to a request. I'd like to come and join you and your brethern. Together we will stand strong and rid this would of it's corrupted low-borns and other pathetic excuses for races. Together we will seek balance.

Sincerely,

Lord Lucian
Blood Spiller

Lucian stood and walked away from his desk, taking the head with him. He opened the door and let is slam behind him. He glanced to his right and turned to face the end of the hall. He held the head in front of him, at chest level. He placed his three fingers in the womens eye sockets and mouth. Taking several steps forward he raised his arm backwards and thrusted it forwards.

The head wobbled and rolled down the hall way. At the end of the hall stood 12 empty ale bottles in a triangle. The head smashed into the bottles knocking them all over.

Lucian nodded to himself, mildly amused.

[Aeloth Nazduin]

---

Aeloth's meditation was disturbed when one of the palace caretakers rushed to the top floor of the palace.

"My lord, a message from one of the kin." The messenger spoke softly.

Aeloth stood slowly, turning on his heels. "Bring it to me. What does it concern?"

"Sympathizers to our cause, my lord."

Aeloth snatched the letter from the messenger's hand, and read it over carefully.

"Aha... Lucian." Aeloth smiled weakly for a moment before dismissing the messenger. Producing a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal, he began to write.

Lucian,

Magnificent work in subjugating the lowborn filth, the fates have guided you well. Many elves have come to our cause lately, including those who have been falsely guided by the lowborn kingdoms. It would be a blessing to our race if we were to join forces in our glorious crusade.

Come to our Sanctuary in the far north of Malas, where the winds are strong and the frost is harsh.

Eternal blessings,

Aeloth Nazduin

Aeloth sealed his letter with a bit of wax, then snapped his fingers. A large, winged vulture staggered out of the shadows and awaited orders. Tying the letter to the vulture's talon, Aeloth spoke softly.

"Deliver this to the kin named Lucian, be swift."

With that, the vulture set off to deliver the message.