Far above the gnome city of Popsprocket, hovering the infamous form of the flying dracolich fortress, a sight which struck fear into the hearts of all who beheld it. All but one. From hundreds of feet in the air, he could see her, hacking through skeleton after skeleton of his army. Even when he shut his eyes, he could still sense her presence in the city below. Her aura was a distinct one, and every time he sensed it, it filled him with maddening furry. Why was it that every time their paths cross he felt nothing but complete and utter loathing?
Hate. It had been a long time since he had could say he truly despised someone. Hatred was an emotion only humans were capable of expressing, and it had been a long time since he'd been anything close to human. In general, he had very little opinion of the citizens of Lore. He considered them ants at his feet, unseen and insignificant. She, on the other hand, was a fly, and one who was particularly troublesome to swat.
Was it because she was the only one with any hope of defeating him? No. Over the years she had undoubtedly gotten stronger, but he was still far out of her league. Challenging him would be suicide, and it would only be a matter of time before the master gave him the order to strike her down.
Perhaps it was the fact the she reminded him of himself. Long ago, before his pact with darkness. He was once King Alteon's greatest knight, and closest ally. Together they defeated King Slugwrath and won the kingdom, he won the hand of a beautiful maiden and a reputation as a formidable swordsman. But when it came time to fight the most important battle, he was defeated.
After that, everything became so trivial. The Kingdom, the people, even those he once called allies suddenly became quite insignificant to him. The only thing that mattered was the fine line between victory and defeat. Being rid of her would be to destroy the small piece of his former self that remained, underneath the darkness that now consumed him.
