[spoiler]My apologies for making this post so short. This was just something that was on my mind.[/spoiler] The creature, that was once Feykir Skons, walked through the pungent halls of the underworld of the massive fortress, twitching with each step. Visibility was zero-- the fog was too thick, and the void fire that engulfed him didn't help either. Petty cries and blood curdling shrieks filled the dense air. None of this phased the warlock. Just as blue-white ooze dripped off of him and black fire, mixed with void smoke, shrouded him, a shotgun on his back looked the same. A faint yellow charged the warlock. It was two feet away when the warlock cared about it. It was a lone thrall patrolling the cellar halls. It screamed and slashed at Feykir, but its hand passed right through the trespasser. It pondered, than swiped again-- same outcome. It slowly stepped back. "You serve your King with mindless, petty, dagger claws; giving tithe of what little Light you gather--" The Warlock's voice echoed in the air, and the thrall's head. Feykir force pushed the starving creature away, shattering it with sheer force, "No more," Feykir watched as the thrall's dry, frail bones fell into one of the various pits carefully placed throughout the maze. On command, the warlock slowly phased through dimensions, appearing again staring at a large gate. As if sensing the warlock's presence, the door creaked and squealed open. The pungent, brown fog poured into the new room like water pushing through a broken dam. Inside the room, knights and wizards were giving their tithing of Light. They were giving their portions of Light to an abomination. A weaver. A large ogre in the center of the room was collecting the Light, and with several scrambling limbs on its back, was stringing up the Light and suspending the orbs to the ceiling. Stores of Light, for Oryx to feast. Suddenly, the process stopped. All of the knights, and wizards, and the enormous mutation turned to face the warlock. Even as a Taken, a servant of Oryx, the Hive felt threatened by the warlock's presence. This was sacred ground, he did not belong here. A wizard flew over to the intruder. It cried, it screeched, it shrieked, and barked at Feykir, but he just stared at her. "You slice through physics with your scalpel like a rotting experiment. Your coven can sow up the wound in space and time, yet, you do not hold what I seek..." Feykir marched on past the wizard. Golgoroth bellowed out to Feykir warning him to leave this area. Feykir did not heed the warning. The knights raised their swords and boomers, preparing to engage. Golgoroth stomped around as he watched the warlock walk on by. It cried out again, Feykir kept walking. The ogre fired his void blasts at the warlock, but they passed right through him. All the Hive were astonished. The knights ran up to the warlock, swords held up high! Feykir was not threatened, just pestered. He jumped up, letting all the knights gather below, he drew back his arm gathering void into a bomb and threw it at the knights. With no further challengers, the warlock approached the pillar in the back. Six Hive runes covered the smooth face of the rock. At first, it made no sense to him; so, he reread it. Again. Again. After reading the inscription seven times, Feykir broke the code. He placed his black dripping hand on the surface of the Tablet of Ruin, causing the runes to light up with fire. A sinister smile spread across his face, "My servitude is to you, my King..." Just then, a thrall ran up to Feykir. He spun around and placed his hand on the thrall. A black orb formed on the creature's chest, pulling the rest of the body in on itself. With a small explosion, the thrall was gone! Then, it was brought back oozing and burning. "You have been given new purpose to your King..." Feykir twitched and spazzed out.