Dark Thoughts

He shuffles the roughly strewn tinder about, flames glaring bright. The night is clear and all is silent; The crackle of fire the only noise under the looming evening sky. Thoughts race through his mind, each idea criticised and pulled to pieces as he tries to create the perfect plan. Preparation is key, so he had always been told. It had proven true enough many times, too.

Death; How he both loved and despised it. He was a true harbinger of death, however. A patron of the devil himself, who he had sold his soul too many a moon ago. Death; How it became so easy for him to deliver.

He presses the fire again, flames flickering as they catch the playful wind, dancing their wicked dance together. He looks through the trees and down at the broken walls he now calls his home, his small camp up in the hills providing a welcome distraction from everyday life there. He looks down at the strange people; his family, of sorts. He would see them soon enough, if things worked out as planned, or perhaps he wouldn't - Not that he cared much either way. He had grown used to solitude.

Stygia, his true home. Vile, corrupt Stygia. Death awaited those who dwell behind their rich walls, their fake shield to everything real. Those who had betrayed him would get what they deserved, soon enough.

For now, preparation is key.