Now was his time. A fool’s folly it was for Nilem to seek out such an artifact, and not assume there would be a great cost to its power. Nilem wielded the eye excellently, and when it was done finally consuming him, it made a portal through his soul wide enough for Skrane to fit through. Yes, Nilem would know infinite power now. He would be the gate for which Skrane would channel three of his brethren into this plane. The legend on the papyrus scroll never stated the power would be permanent, or that he would ever use it to his own advantage, just that Skrane’s Eye meant power to those that bore it.

“Master, Kanz find Ranger lady, and her new whelp in Tarna! Me do good?” screeched the ex-familiar.

“Yes I see that they are settling in quite nicely now. Perhaps this will not be as difficult as the Prophecy states. She is aware of it vaguely, but wishes to deny it for as long as possible. The boy shows so much promise, and after I am through with his mother he’ll be my cherished son.” Skrane jested as he drank blood from a skull that slightly resembled Nilem’s head.

“Kanz get bigger now, yes ? Kanz get sharpsie claws and fire breath like elder demons?” the fledgling begged.

“Very well, you’ll have your stature. After all, if it was not for you meddling I’d still be stuck on that blasted rock in the middle of the Netherwhere eating banshees.” Skrane replied as he waved a hand of purple light, and black fire. Blue sparks grew around Kanz, immolating him in black flame and warping his miniscule body into something more wretched. When the fiery process was completed he emerged something more intelligent, and most definitely stronger.

“Master, it burns! This…this is what its like. ROAAAAR!” screamed the newly birthed hell spawn as he let loose his first mouthful of flame. Raking his claws against stone, he looked at Skrane and leapt for his throat. Skrane waved a finger and pinned him down to the floor with invisible force. Skrane was much smaller than Kanz, but size was merely for show and bluster amongst demons, and they all knew it. Skrane was a practical demon that chose to resemble a human on almost every level, save his small black horns protruding from the edges of his forehead and black leathery wings. Skrane scratched his pale white face, and moved closer to the bulging Kanz’s ear.

“Listen you blustery bag of flesh rot, and listen well. I gave you your power, and just as quickly I can make it disappear. If you are of going to be any use to me, you must learn control. Outbursts like that could cost you your life, and ruin any plans I have for turning this growth infested land into my hellish playground! DO NOT err on the side of rage, lest you wish to spend the rest of forever in a bottle on a plane in which there is no exit from!” he stated matter-of-factly.

Skrane did not have time for ignorance, and training new demons was something he abhorred to do. Surely he could summon one of his brothers through that gate and make things easier, but alas, time was of the essence.

“I have things for you to do, and making those hateful eyes at me is not one of them. Go spy on Laurna. Watch her from afar with your newly enhanced farsight, and report to me in periodically. I will move in when the time is right. Protect that boy if you must, and make sure he advances in the Dark Arts as quickly as possible. It was hard convincing the Fates to have a Necromancer be his baby sitter, and I do not intend to waste time.” Skrane added. With that the holding enchantment was gone, and Kanz crawled out of the rock shelter they stayed in.

Laurna must certainly be moved out of the picture, but how ? How in the Nine Hells was a demon to get rid of a woman with such power?

Laurna did not take to being a mother at all at first, and felt awkward breast-feeding such an eager thing. Slowly she grew accustomed to baby Jesar’s coos, and crying. She eventually found being a mother quite becoming. Leolen had been very supportive, and even after the hasty marriage, he did not make the advances a husband should have made upon his new wife. He supported her as a friend, and through the birthing he was there for her more than any other. The midwives were useless because they had such frail hands, but Leolen’s was there all the time, no matter how hard she squeezed. The monks stated the boy was unusual because when he came out, he was smiling. The crying did not come out of him like normal babies, and yet, he was so full of life. He made up for that though in the latter months. At nighttime the baby was most active. He drained an enourmous amount from Laurna, and even after feeding he often times still wished for more. Laurna had to teach him discipline, and she figured that lesson might well start now since she ached so much after nurturing him.

“That boy has fangs I swear Leolen. He is just like his father I tell you. Strong jaws and selfish on a primal level!” she groaned as she got back into bed next to her husband.

“At least it isn’t forever, some day he’ll be grown enough to start using that mouth of his on more than woman’s tender parts. He’ll be a great caster.” he said groggily.

“He’ll swing his sword well too. I’ll see to that. No boy of mine is going to be a dress-wearing caster without the capacity to cleave his foes in two!” she said while rubbing her infinetley sore chest.

“Yes, darling, yes. Now get some rest. He is nine months old, give him a break until he hits two.” he ended.

Ever since Lady Valtress had started letting Orrian refugees into Tarna she grew fretful. The Charr had fully stopped warring after they had conquered Orr, and were now leeching the land of its power, and riches. Slowly she watched as the Expanse turned into a parched wasteland. She feared greatly that one day they would gather their forces again, and decide to push further West. Her eight times over great Grandfather had been partly responsible for driving them underground, and had been told growing up that one day they would try and return that favor. Valtress’s father laughed at the notion, and did not think much of it. She, on the other hand, now had begun to lose sleep over it. She decided to send three raiding parties out to scout the borders of the expanse and search for any refugees or Charr war bands. She sent one Necromancer in each group to be prepared for the Charr plague that was engineered against the Orrian army. It worked all too well against humans, and if such a thing were to be used against her she would be prepared.

“Damn those fiends. Revenge is always such a bitch. Why did you have to do it Grandfather?” she asked to herself.

But she knew why, and knew it was the only course of action to take. Her people had suffered while the Charr were above ground, and putting an end to such ferocity meant near genocide of a race of creatures. It was not right, but at the same time, for humans to “progress” they needed it. The sad part was that it did not feel like progression. Valtress had felt that in the last eight hundred years were relatively the same.

Guilds formed, and disbanded, and reshaped the land boundaries to their whim. This fact did not change, and showed most obviously in Tarna. Tarna had been ruled by one Guild, The Firestoked Hand. They were ruthless as any, but kept things stable in the country. They avoided war by bluffing their power, and eventually turned their feeble might into a reality. Orr had been a recent ally considering the Empire was only two hundred years old, but now they were in ruins. They had fallen even faster than they had formed, and despite their seamless Council of High Guilds, fragmentation began as soon as the Charr had arrived. Enough worrying she thought, as she cast a sleep spell on herself and drifted dreamily into the arms of a lover that was not even tangible. Tomorrow she would get the answers she needed.

Skrane wiped his fist on High Shaman Vaktanok’s furry chest, near the hole that was freshly made in it. That beast should have been harder to slay. The Charr were a demon-engineered race, and over the last few thousand years had obviously become quite soft.

“Any more objections to my rule of your weak people?” Skrane preached to a crowd of Charr elite who stood amazed at what they had just witnessed before them. No one had ever defeated Vaktanok in melee battle, or a magical one at that. This human looking thing slew him in one punch, and one that no one had seen no less.

“Are you a War God?” stated one Charr Axe General as looked on in awe.

“No, I am not. But one thing is certain. I will have this whole continent as my dwelling grounds, and no race shall bother to be in my way whilst at add finery to it, understand? I’ll let you Charr do as you wish, but please check in with me before making any major moves. I like your kind. As a matter of fact, you could almost call us family! But what is a family without a good father, eh? Nothing! So you’ll call me just that, Father Skrane.” He proclaimed as he turned his face to the West.

“Skrane? No, it can’t be…” stated a Charr Soothsayer “…it..it…was just a legend! The Charr are a divinely made people, not demonborne!” he added.

“Believe what you must, I do not really care.” Skrane said dispassionately “I do not have time for philosophy, or debate. I just came to set the record strait, and make things cozier for myself. Now, you will collectively answer me, or I will systematically wipe you all out, sound fair?” he again added coldly. Slowly but surely all of the Charr nodded their ascent, and from that point on Skrane was their new silent, and most definitely secret partner.

Laurna had grown tired of sitting at home and nurturing. Almost two years had now passed, and it was time for her to start retraining. She would not let having a child ruin her swordsmanship. She was one of the best Rangers in her Guild, The Veiled Night, and would not let her title slip. At least they were wise enough to come along, and since they did she decided to take make a visit upon her old Guild trainer Bachston Morelaine.

“Well, look who it is! Come back to get your arse kicked again, eh lass?” Bachston said with a happy face, and open arms.

“You know me Bach. Even babies won’t prevent me from kicking your arse!” as she gave him a hug-tackle. He fell down and grunted as if he were hit by a swooping Wyvern.

“You’ll have to take it easy on these old bones, I’m all talk these days! But I can still show you a thing or two. You surpassed your master long ago, what makes you want to come back?” he asked inquisitively.

“I need to relearn the basics. I have been pent up with a hump in my belly for far too long, and the resulting lump of manflesh sucking me dry after that! My body needs a reminder of what do on the field!” she said excitedly.

“Well, ok, lets start with a rusty short sword then! I figure the best way to relearn, is to start with you’re first weapon!” and so her retraining began. She went through the basic exercises in defense in five hours, and in ten she had completed the offensive ones as well. Laurna still continued them for ten strait days though to get her reflexes back, and after that committed herself to excruciatingly painful workouts while her master ate apples and gawked at scantly clad Elementalists.

“You know they keep getting smaller. Those caster outfits.” Bach said as she did her twentieth set of pushups “soon enough they’ll be running around nude throwing flames, lightning, and ice!” Laurna paused.

“You know, I wonder if your libido will ever go away. After thirteen years, it has not even slowed old man!” she said panting.

“This old oak has more squirrel than any of these rushed lads do! Now get back to work, I didn’t say stop!” he grumbled as he kicked her in the leg.

Tonight Laurna would take a hot bath, and most assuredly remind Leolen that he was a man, and her husband. All the perverse talk, and sweating seemed to remind her of some very fond memories of her youth.

Valtress finally had the data she needed to make a decision on where to put the increasing number of Orrian refugees in her empire. The Charr were not moving, but building their empire, and ruining the land for humans. A retake would not be worth it since wasteland is all that could be proffered. She conceded that, and moved on. Orr had about one fifth of their population remaining, and since the Tarnian Southlands needed more defense, she decided to set up a new settlement there, and name it Khylo. A meeting had convened at her Great Palatial meeting table, with one important individual sitting closely next to her.

“I agree your majesty, that would be a perfect idea! We get extra defenders, and at the same time make a whole new city!” her newly appointed advisor Skrane stated. His horns and wings had been glamoured away and now only a smooth pale forehead and muscular back remained. Skrane had become a master of disguising what he was, and almost wanted to stay in his current role forever.

Earning the trust of a ruler through dreams, and making mad love to her each and every night was almost intoxicating. She was so insatiable. To wear a demon out sexually was a feat, and he had been forced to use sleep spells on her to keep her down. She had to be in mint condition, so he could not truly take his fill of her, but the duration of it all almost broke him. To be defeated in bed, he thought, now that would be ironic.

“And the high council agrees as well? This plan does sound coherent to you, yes?” as she raised her eyebrow to them all. They knew better than to disagree with the beautifully endowed, and very short-tempered ruler. All of the council raised their hands one by one and consented in order from left to right without so much as a slow down.

“Very well then, the refugees will be moved at the dawn of the first day of the next month. They are to be given plenty of protection from the elements, and to be treated with respect. They are our new subjects, and I will not have our reputation for hospitality smeared!” she ordered and slipped a hand into the inside of Skrane’s thigh. That made him jump a bit, but he quickly regained his composure. Would she ever tire?

“This meeting is adjourned. I have more pressing matters to attend to," she said very abruptly.

Skrane smiled briefly, and looked into her eyes, and she nodded back. She got up from her chair, and ordered to have her bedchambers cleared of servants. Save one in particular. She liked being watched occasionally.

Laurna had been fighting the earth golem for almost one hour strait now. The machination did not seem to be even slowing down. She threw a dagger at its seemingly soft leg joint, only to see it clink off and stride forward with the same methodic movement it had shown previously.

“Damn this thing! I have cut its head off, and severed a hand, and yet it still comes!” she cried at the Elementalist.

“Would you kill it already? My lovely assistant here Clarifahnya and I have a some plans after this.” Bach casually stated. Clari blushed as she motioned the rock beast to smash Laurna.

Laurna began casting a druidic spell of binding. Thankfully, it worked. The ground erupted in leg-thick wide roots, and enveloped the creature wholly. It could not move, but it certainly was not dead. In a matter of moments some of the roots started to give way, and tear. Laurna thought quickly and started casting a simple growth spell upon the thing. Flowers budded from it, and fed upon its rich earthen body.

“Going to love it to death are we Laurna? I don’t have all day you know!” taunted her trainer as the greater part of seemingly simple spell took place. A tree erupted from the ground itself from beneath the golem. Fertile soil and pebbles rained down upon Bach and the Master Elementalist, and Laurna fell down from exhaustion.

“Such a fervent battle, and such a simple solution! Never forget a Ranger has more than swordsmanship in their repertoire Laurna. Now, if you don’t mind, please cut down that tree in the middle of the training grounds, and take your leave. I have someone that needs my good company,” Bach said didactically as he strode off hand in hand with Clarifahnya, who was wearing see through clothes when they shone underneath the afternoon sun.

Laurna could not wait to get on the road again. There most certainly would be more fighting, and she could use the experience as well. It felt as if she had to start from scratch, but it did not matter. She thought of her son, and that made it all worth it.

“Victo, if you can here me….Jesar will make you proud.” she said intently gazing up into the blue sky on her back.