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[Lady Livia]

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How long had slumber taken the mystical shadowy female from the halls of the Ncr tower?

Storms had churned on a distasteful sea for the passing of many hands. A black cluster of raging clouds growing darker with each grain of sand the hour glass passed. Winds whispered in over the darkened ocean waters turned black under the lack of light that was spreading over the horizon with a vengeance behind its malice. Those who were unfortunate to fall pray to the cultivating waves lost their very souls to the fathomless depths. And still it did not draw closer to shore line or harbors. A stationary front positioned over one of the smallest of the realms islands. Nothing but a stretch of sand, patch of grass and the make shift housing of a one room thatch. With in, lock in the meditation of a ritual ment to purge all impurities that the daemon had left behind and rid her of its pestilence.

Seated upon the tem wood floor boards in fashion of a mans stature, cross legged with hands rested to the peek of each knee. Shrouded form set in place as a pillar of unwavering devotion to her conjuring. Faint glow of fresh murder crimson hummed in the air only breaths about the pale form of a female long since thought lost to the world. Sire would have believed her dead, blocked off from the world beyond this place of her creation. For months she mediated, living off the gorged drink of rich elven Vitae robed from the very throat of the mystical creatures. Bodies long since disposed of and forgotten to their graves of water and the demon creatures who devoured them in the ocean depts. The time was drawing near for her to break from the stoic ritual and once more rejoin the ranks of her family and pride.

Ship manifested out of the very mist that hovered on the storming sea's waves. Droplets of water pressing together to form a ship of frozen mass, The fitting vessel to carry the Ice Princess back to the dark shores to waiting hands of Master and Mistress. Cleaned of the foul touch of weakness, purity and the lingering of innocence. Pure evil resided with in the black heart of the beast now making way to the keeping of the Trinsic swamp. Closer now did those storm clouds move in, threatening any ship, launch, raft and creature with in its path. On a putrid wind of death and ferocious rage the ice ship was ushered on the front waves. A white sentinel with its rider in black perched upon the bow while bolts of purple lightening dances to a melody of carnage and despair around her floating haven.

Over cast of storm ripped in to the shallow waters, sent the waves crashing against the back wall of the towers militant architecture and announced the return of the seed of evil. Child not ment for such tragedies cursed to eternity of the living dead, trapped, molded in to beauty for all time by one simple bite and a taste of sweet remorseful nectar. Bow of the ship melted down in to a slopping bridge offering exit for the conniving minx that had been its captain. Feet placed solid upon the ground, the sweetness of hunger setting in with the embrace of homes arms. Eyes once green as jade stones now silver and white as new fallen snow vanquished the landscape. Livia had returned to the Cults dire keeping. Were they ready to receive their daughter and Mistress? No longer as she once was, with fragments of her humanity still intact. Now there was nothing but a cold hearted ruthless being with a craveing for the taste of death.