Raazik slouched in his throne, resting his masked face in the palm of his hand. Whilst he still boasted an extraordinary amount of power, he had retained but a fraction of his original power. His millennia spent in the abyss had segregated him from the ambient magic of Gielinor and, whilst he had been able to siphon some power from the abyss itself, it was not enough. He felt weak: his return and the feats he had performed in the short time since had already left him feeling drained. He longed to return to a time of old; when both his power and the Zarosian empire were great. He may have been thousands of years old, but his Mahjarrat memory never faltered. 

It was the Age of Conquest. The Empty Lord ruled most of Gielinor, his reign spanning from Forinthry in the north, down to Senntisten and Kharryl: two very different realms separated by a vast desert, also under Zarosian control. Aside from smaller civilisations of lesser importance, the first struggling signs of Saradominist and Armadylean worship, only the lush forests of the far West remained untouched by the Empty Lord's domination. Seren, a mysterious and elusive Goddess of Peace, dwelled here, seemingly in complete tranquility. Her niche following of elves and woodland creatures lived happily amongst the trees, forging structures from the crystals that formed the heart of their strange culture. However, all this was set to change.

It was Zaros' will that these land be conquered in his name, and he had entrusted his most powerful and cunning general, the faceless Lord Raazik, to see that it was done. Raazik had wasted no time in rallying a small army of the finest demons in the land, and bolstering his numbers with creatures from the abyss, to which he had a reputed affinity. An army this size would surely be spotted approaching days in advance, but the sly Raazik had a plan. Not known for his fair play, Raazik used his magicks to open a portal directly into the abyss, in which he hid his troops. The army marched towards Tirannwn, completely concealed from any form of detection by its detachment from Gielinor. Raazik, who remained in a constant state of divining during the army's fortnight-long stay in the sub-dimension, alerted his troops when they reached the point at which they could enter the Elven lands. And that was that: another portal was opened, and within minutes the Elven lands were flooded with the foul ambush.

The elves were not prepared. For the first moments, Raazik simply enjoyed watching the battle unfold. In this early stage of conflict, many elves fell; their lives taken by blind panic and Zarosian brute force. However, the elves were a highly intelligent species, as well as being incredibly skilful. Once they had adjusted to the sudden shift in situation, they began to grow in confidence, ducking and diving in order to avoid the slow attacks of the huge demons, and scurrying away into the labyrinthine forests of living wood in order to escape the hordes of abyssal creatures. When they returned, they donned full armour and banished their weapons; all made of the finest crystal. Their tactics were impressive: Raazik watched, somewhat bemused, as he noticed several squadrons of Elven warriors and archers, tackling the larger demons as a unit. Many demons fell, bursting into flames and their ashes blowing away in the gentle breeze. Unfortunately for the elves, Raazik was able to continuously recall the slain demons from the Infernal Dimensions, each time their flesh burned with more agony, their souls more tortured. The elves fought valiantly nonetheless, but there was only so long that the brave Serenists could subdue the regenerating forces. Confident in a sure Zarosian victory, Raazik burst into purple flames and vanished from sight. 

Moment later, a similar inferno erupted in a clearing deeper into the forest. It seemed as though Lord Arweinydd, his Serenist equivalent, was travelling to consult his Goddess; however, the Faceless One had intercepted his journey. "Going somewhere?" he hissed, smirking playfully beneath his mask, though it was somehow evident in his voice. 

"What are you doing here, Mahjarrat?" the Elf Lord demanded, his voice flooded with both peace and hatred simultaneously. "My people have done you no wrong! Leave these lands!" he barked. Raazik was once more bemused. The loyalty of the Elf Lord was intriguing - he seemed to be as loyal to the elves as he was their Goddess. Why was a being blessed with such power so noble? He could tell that Arweinydd had been enraged by the slaughter of his people, but he somehow managed to maintain a stern and collected stance, and had yet to make a move against the Mahjarrat. Raazik opted not to give the elf the satisfaction of answers; apparently, it would be his pleasure to deal the first blow.

Pointing his staff at the elf, he unleashed a torrent of purple light towards the Serenist general, who merely ducked out of the way, and within seconds fired a flurry of crystal arrows in Raazik's direction. The Mahjarrat seethed in anger, raising his arms and being engulfed in energy that deflected the projectiles. This routine was repeated again and again, each side dealing a series of attacks from a distance whilst avoiding and deflecting their opponents with ease. Raazik scowled, he was done playing games. Bursting into flames and reappearing immediately before Arweinydd, he cornered the elf against a nearby tree. Acting quickly, he plunged the sharp end of his staff in the elf's direction, who just managed to dodge the surely fatal blow, causing the staff to become embedded in the tree. Raazik was unfazed by the inconvenience; he could fight with his hands. 

Without his staff, however, his spells lacked focus and direction. Bursts of wild magick surged in all directions as the Faceless One unleashed attack after attack, their random and explosive nature becoming increasingly difficult for Arweinydd to avoid. However, due to a series of lucky moves on behalf of the elf, Raazik was tackled to the ground and left vulnerable to attack. The two looked each other in the eye for a brief moment as Arweinydd drew back his bow, aiming a powerful crystal arrow at the Mahjarrat, who was on the brink of accepting his fate in servitude of Lord Zaros. Yet, as the arrow was released, the Mahjarrat screamed out in pain and erupted into a burst of energy, vanishing on the spot. The arrow soared through the space he had been, joining Raazik's staff as it collided with the trunk of the tree. 

Millennia passed on Gielinor, though it had seemed even longer to Lord Raazik, who had existed only in the abyssal plane, where time does not flow as it does in the normal realm of existence. And now, here he was… Back in Gielinor once more, and with a new motive. Having spent so long in its masters hands, the staff would surely contain a lot of the Faceless One's ambient power. Raazik knew he was not welcome in the West, but that had not stopped him before. Noting the position of the moon in the sky, he rose from his throne. It was time to check on Daeyal and the potion.