([color=f7941d]Darlien Garandinar[/color][color=fff79a](Main)[/color], Artis Port, Praelium)

Darlien yawned as he walked away from the port. He hadn't set it on fire, restraint if he'd ever seen it, but the corpses were a statement enough. His blade entered a man's spine, the basket he was carrying clattering to the ground as he entered shock. Darlien tugged his blade loose, allowing the man to collapse to the ground in a heap. This devastation would be a good herald for the On'hinian invasion. 

Now that he knew that Praelium was in as much danger as it was, he could let loose, when the invasion force arrived, he'd simply fade away into it, savoring the chaos as it gripped the barbarians and their poor nation. He would, however, be the one to slay the Tyrannis. It was what his father would have wanted, revenge for himself and his wife. After the Tyrannis would come the Dominus, the ones who had killed his father, took his head from his shoulders and tossed his body into the sea, Darlien would burn their homes to the ground. Then... hmm, Darlien had never thought of what to do after, perhaps wander the lands, see what he could see, help those in need, he'd be a hero, one who brought down the world's worst regime, he could see the love he would get from the people now.

While he was thinking these things, he cleaved a town guard's arm in two and executed him with a blast of magic flame to the face. These men had no chance against a mage of his caliber, the best they could do was come within four feet of touching him. He smiled as the guards formed a shield-wall and planted their pikes. He had no clue what they were thinking, of course they were all ex-military, it was hard to find a Praelian who wasn't, so obviously this tactic worked against normal opponents.

It wouldn't work against a mage.

With a wave of his hand, a wall of flame enveloped their shield wall, their screams shaking the air, citizens watching, terrified as their last defense burned away in front of them. Darlien's hand however, began stinging horribly, enough to bring him to grunt. Removing his glove, he noted that his hand had turned shiny and red, with  small patches of crimson all over. His nails had turned yellow, and when he touched one, it simply fell away, tapping against the ground and lying there. There was no blood flowing from the ruined mess where his nail had once been due to the burning. As the fire dissipated, so did the pain, but the wound remained, horrific and hard to look at. With a grimace, Darlien put his glove back on.

[color=f7941d][i]It will be fine, I know it will, I'm the greatest mage of this generation, I cannot let a little burn worry me.[/i][/color]

He entered the main streets, while they had been bustling when he had first arrived, now they were eerily quiet, the many buildings standing motionless and alone. Darlien almost felt like they were watching him, staring down at him like giants, gods even, judging his actions against those whose patronage they had.

[color=f7941d][i]Gods don't exist,[/i][/color] Darlien reaffirmed to himself, but in the corner of his vision, he swore he could see one of them move. They had eyes, massive judging eyes, blue, brown, grey, they were alive, they were human. They screamed at him, their voices like wind, whistling and dampening with every moment.

[i]"YOu mUrderer[sup]killer[/sup] theY'RE Alive[sup]alive[/sup], yOu'rE onE OF theM. [sup]Praelian.[/sup]"

"Praelian"[/i]

[color=f7941d]"They're murderers, savages, I'm not one of them!"[/color]

[i]"LIAr, Praaelian lIAr"[/i] 

[color=f7941d]"Stop it!"[/color]

[i]"Murderer"[/i] [color=f7941d]"Stop!"[/color] [i]Savage, trAitor[/i] [color=f7941d]"Stop this NOW!"[/color] [i]BaStard[/i] [color=f7941d]"ENOUGH, PLEASE!"[/color] [i]Nee[color=f7941d]ver[/color] stop, we [color=f7941d]are[/color] you.[/i]

There was a scream, and then there was flame.