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[NightShade]

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Upon the Isle of Fire, within the maw of the demon's domain, lay that which was most beloved to them. There, under the peace of the stars and the silence of the sun Nightshade had begun her most ardent work.

What she did now was a labor of love, a gift of ages to come and go. For she had devised her plan and would seek to put it in motion. The warm air of this tropical place flowed across her in a soft caress. If her body breathed, if her heart beat, sweat would be wanton to trickle down her brow, making its way and curving down her pale neck. Then it would travel forth like a winding river and find the gap of her bustier, coming to rest just there between soft, sweet, and rounded breasts. Yet, her body did not breath, and her heart did not beat, and the pulsing sun beat down unrelenting on the jungle floor.

Here now the sorceress toiled, her hands covered in fresh wet blood, her green eyes bright like sparkling emeralds, her hair flowing like a dark green swamp. Whispered words, unintelligible to most, came from her mouth weaving in her ancient tongue, her families tongue.

From time to time she lifted her head to stop and stare at Blackrock Keep there it stood proudly harboring their secrets, small but resolute against the breaking waves upon the shore. In front of it, the water dropped off deeply and it had become a catacomb for many a dilapidated ship. From time to time she would glimpse Cear, as he moved from here to there and she would know that he was near. This gave her comfort, as if she was not really alone, long time friends, a united clan, one could never be alone.

He had given everything of him unto the Xornite, this wandering meer....

Now it was time that something should be given back to him.
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...