It had been several years since he had last visited Magincia. The now ruined city still held a certain charm to him, and yet it repulsed at the same time. Pride. There was nothing wrong in taking pride in ones work, but the way these humans went about it…despicable. Which had led to his aid going against the city while in the grip of a daemonic invasion. None would think it, knowing of the grudges to the denizens of the lower planes that he held, but setting aside those feelings had been for the best. Now however, in the shadow of ruined walls and petrified trees, his mind sifted throughout the memories of the war. Blood, loss and darkness. Those days held plenty of all three. Just, not enough of them. As he walked steadily deeper into the city, he let the thoughts drift to the surface of his mind… It was like any other day of battle, the daemons would rush and the humans would counter attack. Over and over, like an over apologetic novice he once knew. It was when he saw humans leading the more destructive of their enemies into the city to assist in destruction that his patience snapped. Words of power flowed from his mouth as eldritch flames snaked over his form, before soaring through the air to smash into the chests of two fighters. A second passed before their shrieks of agony pierced the air, cutting through the sound of battle like a blade through flesh. Within moments, nothing remained but piles of bones, which were quickly smashed to dust beneath trampling feet… His eyes snapped open, and he glanced down at his hands with a sigh. Long gone were those powers. He missed them, yes. But hadn’t he found more power than he could have ever imagined? The Blackrock Sword for example, sitting in his study under the most potent wards he could bring about. Mighty, yes. A risky danger, even more so. Why was it always power with himself? Barely watching where his feet led, his eyes closed again as more memories came into focus. The night in the Hedge Maze, a more recent thought. Unknowingly assisting in reviving the dead mage Relvinian. A foolish mistake at the time yes, but one which turned profitable in the end. After all, he thought, did not the mad mage consider your offer of assisting him and the daemon Ix Tab should they call for it? He had gazed into the empty void of the liches eye sockets, and saw pure and undiluted power just sitting there. And so, his lust for it began anew. Footsteps echoing faintly as he crossed a bridge brought him back to clear thought. Blinking back surprise, he found himself staring at the large stone used in recruiting for the Council of Mages. Words whispered to his soul from within itself, he could hear the temptations of power, wealth, and all that he could ever wish for. He let open his soul, revealing to the stone all his past deeds, both good and ill. For several moments nothing seemed to happen, he just stood there staring at the stone. And finally, the words returned. This time they were confident and appealing. Offers filled his mind and very being, And as they filtered away, he made his choice. The stone would help him get it all back. It would just…require assistance, and perhaps a small amount of sating in the mean time. His mind filled with what the stone had promised him, he turned and walked slowly into the gathering darkness. He had much to do, in a very little time.