It had been too long. Far too long. Such an immense gap it seemed from this perspective, although, in reality, it was actually only about a month or so. Perhaps two months? It was hard to determine. Nevertheless, there was an alarm bell of sorts going off in his head. If neon signs had existed, then chances are there would have been a flashing pink one that said "KILL" with a neat buzzing sound, flashing on and off.

Driving Tithdaeron mad, was the sense of this sign, (although he didn't actually see one) and so he plotted his course of action. Hunger had taken hold of his soul, of his very consciousness, overriding his normally prevailing outer shell. The beast within that had been held back and starved would no longer have the imprisonment it was subjected too. And with that, it lost it's mind.

A strange feeling worked its way from his fingertips to his toes, and with small, subtle jerks, a strange smile crept across his lips. Backing into a nearby alleyway, the chaos elemental brought his hands to his head and cradled it, giggling subtlety as the grin slowly became a scowl. Then, his eyes, focusing, narrowing pupils like that of a mountain lion peered out of the darkness onto the street. All that sweat meat walking about. Elven meat, the most delicious kind. There! Ripe for the taking! So take it he did.

With an animal growl the hunter leapt from his position and tackled an unsuspecting passerby, who protested immediately. [color=yellow]"OOF! Hey! Get off me! What are you doing with that? No! Stop! Gau-"[/colors] the elven woman's sentence was cut short as the blade of a katar entered her throat to block the words escaping. Others look in the direction of the happening and were frightened and shocked by what they saw. It appeared as though a werewolf like being had slayed this person! They ran just like the prey they were.

Confusion entered their hearts as another was tackled by the speedy predator, this one with a neck snapped and a punctured lung for a quick but painful death. It wouldn't be long before the city guard showed up with their famed archers, and then the real fun would start. The simple thought of this caused a maniacal laugh to bubble up inside of the insane mage, until it echoed down the streets and filled the air with a sickening mood.

(I rather hope you don't mind my return)

It had been months past that the one-eyed demon known as Lance had last been to the city of the elves hidden within the forest, but there was certainly a good enough reason for that. His last trip here...wasn't exactly pleasant, as he'd long since lost the ability to hide his jet-black, somewhat dragon-like wings and tail, and his eye had reverted to red with a slitted pupil, thus making it more than obvious what he was. Granted, it made him look rather like a half-demon, but nonetheless he was clearly at least part demon, and the elves, as such, didn't want him anywhere near their city, trying to help them or not.

Yet here he was, unintentionally returned to the wooden gates that lay welcomingly open, surprisingly devoid of the normal archer guards, for reasons that quickly made themselves clear.

Cries rang out from somewhat further into the city, cries filled with fear and panic, cries that normally came when someone had just been killed in front of other people. Considering his options, whether to help the elves that openly hated him or leave them to avoid trouble that would doubtless arise from their hatred, he remembered that he was in the Keepers, and had in effect taken an oath to help others regardless of the price. That was, in fact, what he usually did with his life, but he still didn't like to get himself into a bad situation, which was exactly what was about to happen.

Slipping a clawed glove onto his right hand and drawing his black katana in his left, he rushed off in the direction that he could detect the most volume from the cries, finding in a cleared-off space what seemed to be a werewolf, laughing maniacally as one elven woman lie dead at its feet, punctured through the throat, while another had had their neck snapped and chest pierced.

Something about the thing, he found, felt...somewhat familiar. But that didn't matter right now, what counted was that it clearly had to be stopped.

"Not sure who or what you are..." he said, pointing his katana at the beast and letting his left side mostly face it, so that he could keep it within his sights, "but this mindless killing has to stop."