Clouds hang heavy in the sky, fat with rain and black againced the setting sun. The clouds where so thick, the approaching storm so desolate it seemed as though as those last rays died away the sun would never reappeared. The atmosphere was so oppressive so enveloping it did not seem natural. Animals hid on a day like this. The clouds trapped the heat of the dieing sun, it seemed like it would be quite a storm if only the heavens would open. It would not be long before the storm finally broke. Until the lightning fell to earth and rain fell like hammers. The world needed a storm right now. To wash away the blood.
Bellow was one animal that was not hiding from the coming storm. Two figures where stood atop the ancient tower that stood tall and proud, framed againced the sinking sun. From the roof of the tower Tilorn looked down on the grasslands that spread out in every direction and smiled as a wave of darkness ran over it in a black tide as the sun faded away. He did not dislike waiting. It gave him a chance to think things over. All to often he would rush in with out thinking. He found it hard to control his impulses, although he never really made an attempt. Now was a chance to truly think about what was to come. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was going to be good. It was not often that Tilorn would answer the call from another but it was Annihilate. The only person Tilorn actually respected. If Annihilate wished to speak to him then it would undoubtedly be important and important meant death, murder, killing and torture.
Below Tilorn the second figure struggled. He was bounded with lengths of rope, hands behind his back, tied to his feet. The man was hog tied like some animal. His mouth stuffed with a rag and blind folded. As the wind picked up the man moaned. In the gently fading light purple lines and black ovals could be seen on the man’s face along with dried blood. He groaned again. This time Tilorns 'impulse' took hold. He lashed around and sent a kick flying into the mans gut. His muffled scream brought a smile to Tilorns twisted mussel. The man struggled againced his bonds but he could do nothing but sit and take the punishment. Tilorn bent down and placed a hand on the back of the mans head.
"I can't understand you, its a perfect day to die. The gods have even kicked up a storm for you. Although it may well be to wash away your blood from this world... and believe me there is going to a lot of it." His teeth flashed. Gore stained and horribly decrepit. The man reeled from the words and smell in equal measure. Tilorn let out a sigh. He rammed the mans face into the tilled roof. He held it down for a few seconds watching the blood trickle from his nose and down the tiles. He let go and the man shuddered. He turned away. He would coat this tower in the mans blood... it would be a symbol. A symbol to show that this humble location had played a part in the coming events. Or that was the way Tilorns twisted perspective saw it.
He strode to the edge of the tower. He stood an inch from the sheer edge. His dull eyes spotted a shape out on the grasslands. It would be Annihilate. Tilorn spread his huge leathery wings wide. Annihilate probably knew where Tilorn was but there was no mistaking his figure silhouetted the sky.
As the maelstrom mounted on the horizon with its dark and heavy clouds billowing menacingly overhead a singular figure appeared in the distance. He was alone, and shrouded in the tightly wrapped shadows that comprised the far-away tree line, but what beasts lay hidden in wait upon the grasslands kept a wide berth from the man. His eyes darted out, left and right, taking in a large picture of his surroundings, and an itching hand stood ready to draw his blade from its hip-mounted sheath. Had he been another random traveler he may not have gotten so lucky with the predators, but this man was on an important mission, and his progress would not be halted by any creature. There was no fear in his eyes, which caused fear to the very monsters that derived their strength from the trepidation of passer-biers, and in turn sent them away with their tails tucked between their legs – a sight that was quite gratifying to this man.
Annihilate grinned beneath his mask. Upon the top of the tower, slightly distorted against the hazy background, he could see a familiar pair of wings. He assumed Tilorn had received his message, and that meant he at least had a fighting chance of recruiting the half-breed into his plan. Anni needed the man’s ability to lead his troops into battle or else he would have to change his plans somewhat. It would be a hindrance if his offer were to be refused, and he would have to go back to square one, but he had to take that risk.
The closer Anni came to the tower the more of its structure he could make out, while from the top of the tower Tilorn would’ve began to see, quite easily, that this crimson-clad warrior was his old comrade. Finally, at the base of the tower, he found the entrance, and pierced its dark depths like a blade. He quickly ascended the tower, carefully judging his movement and his surroundings should some enemy be present. Beneath his cloak his hand carefully stroked the hilt of his weapon, wishing to find some use for it before the night was over. However, if there were any treasure hunters within the forgotten relic of a tower they had either been killed, or had left. Anni was hoping more for the former than of the latter. Still, he climbed, and finally came to a set of steps leading upwards to the ancient tower’s zenith.
His body emerged from beneath the darkness, his cowl pulled low, but his face clearly visible. Inky tendrils of black hair swayed lazily before his face, a mask carved of bone in the likeness of a skull covered the upper portion of his face, yet his eyes burned within the white sockets with volcanic fury. Beneath the crimson and gold shroud that covered the rest of his form there was but darkness, but a faint stirring hinted at the life within. Annihilate moved slowly, seeming to grow larger with every step, and with a chaotic aura surrounding him. He approach Tilorn slowly, and stopped within five paces.
“Well,” he said lowly, his voice rolling like the distant thunder off of the blade of a sword, “It’s been too long, but you look no worse for wear.” Anni looked around at the two men who lay on the floor of the aerie. He laughed, grinning devilishly to himself, “Some things never change.”