[hr][center][h2]Seeds of Empire[/h2][hr]
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Tall reeds bent together into archways, forming a narrow corridor through the marsh. The murky, black waters rippled as the emissary took slow, measured steps so as to not get trapped in the muck. His nose wrinkled in derision, offended by both the wet trudge and the ambient stench of sulfur. 

[b]“What right does that bastard have to command me? A Lord of Brionac?”[/b] the emissary fumed aloud. [b]“He will regret making a fool of the Caiside Clan!”[/b]
He seethed over having to come meet someone as low and conniving as Nihil. Everyone knew the dark elves of the south were savages who had lost touch with elven culture. Why was it then that they had been pushing further and further into Brionac. They had managed to best old, established clan guardians with little effort. Even now, the fighting continues. In Garric’s mind, old didn’t mean better. Old clans were weak and useless. They deserved the humiliation of defeat, if they couldn’t defend against few barbarians and hunters. The Eldest too have betrayed their principles, if they believe parlaying with the infamous Fenn Lords will do any good. He just couldn’t fathom why he should be the one to go, when plenty of other lords, albeit of lower status, were more suited to brokering a ceasefire. It was beneath him to negotiate with the enemy, let alone the base and corrupt dusk elves. 
At last the dark waters yielded to a soft patch of land, littered with huts and the remnants of ancient stone pillars. The largest of these monolithic fragments had been staked into the ground and arranged in a oblong circle. Each one bent inward toward the center and collectively held up a precarious roof. The ceiling was crafted from enormous shards of granite, and each disparate piece fit together with the impossible precision one might expect from dwarves. 
Shadows of orange firelight writhed against the dark interior. Near the entrance, two guards stood at attention, their eyes fixed straight ahead. 

Lord Garric steeled himself and marched forward with the easy confidence of an elven highborn. His retainers, clad in expertly-stitched leathers and armed with magic blades, followed closely behind him. His mouth curled into a sneer, but before he could take another step the world shrank away and slid past him. His vision stretched into to a nauseating blur and then snapped abruptly back into focus. His stomach lurched uncomfortably as the eternity of distance between he and the stone shrine shortened to nothing. Though disoriented, he could still make out the sharp lines of familiar elven face. 
Nihil was reclining in on exquisitely carved throne accentuated with thin cracks and pits that hinted at ancient origins. An ox skull hung on the wall behind him. 

[b]“You...”[/b] his voice sank into a menacing growl. He drew his thin blade, ready to tear out the elf’s throat with bloodthirsty glee. [b]“You shit-skinned little worm! How da-”[/b]

Something caught in the lord’s chest. He noticed only too late that none of his retainers were with him. He felt the blood in his veins grind to an agonizing halt as something clamped against heart like a vice. He struggled to breathe and clutched at his chest. His vision swam. 
Anguished cries clamored outside the hall. All manner of wildlife flooded out of the tall reeds and brush, surrounding Garric’s clansmen. Insects carpeted the ground in a wriggling, biting horde. Birds formed a dark, writhing cloud which clawed and pecked at their eyes, while a host of snakes and other reptiles dragged each one to the ground kicking and screaming. Their frantic screams were quickly devour by the hungry cacophony..

[b]“The first one is always free, Garric.”[/b] Nihil began. His tone was friendly, but the weight of his sinister smile pressed Garric down to his knees. There was palpable tension between them, which Nihil swaggered through effortlessly. He bent down and gingerly patted him on the back. 

Garric wheezed sharply. Whatever curse befell him had subsided, but his eyes were still bulging and he could still feel malevolent claws digging into his chest, waiting for an opportunity to wrench the life out of him.

[b]“You see, Garric, the first one is free because I know people are born into ignorance.”[/b] He chuckled. [b]“It’s not their fault. They are ignorant of themselves, of how they fit into a much greater cosmic design, but most importantly their ignorant of the rules they must live by. [i]My rules.[/i]"[/b] 
Garric snapped his head up to protest, but found he couldn’t speak. His voice was gone. He groped at his throat, searching for a clue as to what happened.
[b]“But I believe in forgiveness,”[/b] Nihil continued. [b]“So I allow them a moment of quiet reflection. They need it so they can reflect on how they’ve disrespected me and the people loyal to me. And they always appreciate my kindness when I let them bend a knee and ask for forgiveness,”[/b] Nihil loomed over the gasping noble like a dark cloud.  
[b]“This is your moment of reflection, Garric. It is a [i]kindness[/i].”[/b] Each word was spoken with a terrible exactness that drove the elven lord into into a panic.

Garric reeked of fear. Sweat trimmed his thin brow, and a dark stain marred his padded leggings. Nonetheless he found the resolve to stagger onto his feet. He knew immediately that the rumors were true. Nihil was no longer an elf nor an immortal, he was something much more dangerous than that.

Nihil circled him, pinning him with a predatory stare and a winning smile. He tried catching Garric’s gaze so he could see the flashes of fear in his eyes. He knew was there, but the pompous elf kept looking away. The floor in particular seemed very interesting to him. Nihil already knew he what was going to happen, but wanted to see it. He wanted to see the moment when Garric finally broke. His dark hand clamped around the noble’s face and tilted his gaze up, so they could meet eye-to-eye. He savored the man’s desperate look, and grinned.

[b]“There it is.”[/b]

Garric bent to one knee, once Nihil loosened his grip, and bowed his head deeply in reverence. His forehead pressed into the dirt. His body was covered in a layer of cold sweat. [b]“I-I was an ignorant fool. What can Clan Caiside do you earn your forgiveness, Elder Nihil?”[/b]

The orange fire lights dancing on the wall coalesced into two hauntingly beautiful women, both with piercing emerald eyes and long, sumptuous gowns spun from silver threads. The sheer fabric hinted at voluptuous curves beneath. They didn’t smile.

[b]“Neffeni. Lyndis.”[/b] Nihil shot a smug glance at the two Sirens who stepped forth from the shadows. [b]“Clan Leader Garric has agreed to take responsibility for disrespecting our sovereignty, and as a show of good faith wishes to broker a truce with us on behalf of the Eldest of Brionac. I judge him to be an honorable man. Therefore he is a guest, not a prisoner, and we are going to treat him as one of our own.”[/b]