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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Darrien Church's brain must be in worse repair than the rest of his decomposing, decrepit bag of bones.

Ceinwyn stood, listening to the rat Cecil speak his announcement. He seemed to be offering Umbra a second chance to join their powers with this new cult of Oblivion.

So, they still seek to gain us, eh? I could have sworn the last time was the last chance. They cannot ignore our own power, even if they are blind enough to think it is weaker than theirs.

Ceinwyn didn't see the point. Eventually, their paths would part, and they would both seek to remain in complete control. And that was out of the question. They both knew it. Why give them more power, when they would just be fighting against that power, later? It made no sense. Her faith in Oblivion had been shattered by Norture long ago. Now, she recognized it as just another of the many resources and sources.

Besides, she had coddled Church for far too long, anyway. Given him the remains of the skull. True he had shown more promise than Norture, but to summon a demon famed to be even more powerful than he? That was pure foolishness. To try to offer comfort by stating that he could simply unsummon the demon at will? Madness! Beleth was not some hag's imp. He would definitely seize control and power for himself, when the opportunity arose. Ceinwyn was sure of that. But, she also hoped that he would. The damned lich deserved it.

Her mind turned to their own ritual, earlier that evening. Cecil's announcement had been, ironically enough, coincidental with their own dark summoning.

In much the same sacrificial manner of entrance to this world as Beleth's, a slew of paladins dragged from the cities met their own untimely end to herald another, older evil's emergence to this realm.

"We offer these virtue-sworn to thy Darkness. Grant thy blessings unto us, who would seek to lay waste in thy name, and offer up slaughtered virtue in tribute to thy Darkness."

But, instead of receiving a blessing of power, they had been graced with the very presence of one of the Shadowlords. Nosfentor, the Shadowlord of Cowardice.

The very sound of his voice was like gravel, and full of dark unspoken secrets. They knew they had been better than blessed. Such a boon from the void, unexpected yet would be put to great use.

He faded into the shadows, after handing Ceinwyn a dark stone to call him to her.

She turned to the Umbrans gathered.

"Umbra seems, for the time being, free of any trace of the Oblivionites. Now it is time to scour Caina for any remnant of them. We will not stop until we locate them."

The group dispersed to carry out the orders.

She chuckled to herself. Even though they might be sworn to different darknesses, once thing was common. The enemy.

With two massive forces of darkness in existence, she was sure Sanctus and all other place of Virtue and light were in for a dark nightmare.