[u]Aztoc, level 18 hero[/u]

Aztoc, current ruler of Garakai, wielder of a secret magic, Lord of Dragons, knew when he was outmatched. Or, more accurately in this case, completely fucked.  Reports had been coming in for days about how Ialu was still alive. What's worse, The tyrant still had most of his force left and was gathering more. [i]Vowzra's Victors indeed. More like Vowzra's failures.[/i] Aztoc thought bitterly, brooding on his throne. He had only roughly 30 enslaved dragons to serve him, and no fighters. The townsfolk had long ago flocked to friendlier places, namely the Cimex and Uri that served Vestec as well. 

It was just Aztoc and his hall. He had all he wanted. The throne he had long coveted. The kingdom he had long yearned for. It was all his. His empty throne. His kingdom of ash. [i]Never thought I'd miss Viscardi, or Cassios.[/i]

Still, he didn't intend to die without a fight. Alone, with his dragons, he would be destroyed. Even if he sent them against the mages and Ialu himself Ialu's remaining loyal hordes would simply bring them down, if Ialu himself didn't. There was one last thing he could try, however. One last desperate ploy. 

His feet followed the well worn, muddied, path through the snow. The capital city of Garakai, the Empire's namesake, was reverently quiet, as if it too waited to see what its fate would be by the end of this battle. [i]Will it's walls remain, tall and proud? Or will it be reduced to rubble, a forgotten empire whose bones will serve as the foundation of a new era?[/i]  Aztoc wondered as he entered the temple to the Gods. He didn't go to any specific shrine. He knelt in the center of the temple, his prayer going to any god who would listen. 

"Gods of Galbar, I will not lie to you. I am a evil man, by anyone's idea of 'evil'. I have lied, stolen, murdered, enslaved, conquered, and betrayed. All in the name of power. [i]And I regret nothing.[/i] I do not throw myself at your mercy, do not pray and beg, to have my life spared. My choices have brought me to this situation, and I will accept my fate. I pray to you to give me the power to fight my enemies. To leave my mark on them before I die. To let the future know that the last [i]true[/i] Lord of Garakai did not go quietly into the night. That I did not die cowering behind my walls. That I fought with my dying breath and my enemies knew fear. I will pay any price demanded from me. Just give me this one chance to make Garakai's memory be that of an Empire and not of a hovel."

[u]Viscardi, level 23 hero.[/u]

Vestec's island had been changed through Viscardi's busy effort. A rough house had been crafted from stone, a small garden set up as best he could. The Former Lord of the North was clearly no architect or gardener, but he tried. As Roxan appeared laughing maniacally, Viscardi stepped out, for once in normal clothes rather than his armor. The sword was in his hands, however, ready to be used in a heartbeat. "Roxan!" He spoke, a smile breaking across his craggy, wrinkled, face. "It's good to-" He stopped as he saw the two eggs in the Demi-Goddess' hands. "Timeless one above, please tell me you didn't steal that from a dragon and I should be putting my armor. I just got done building this terrible hovel and I don't want to have to rebuild it."