Chapter: 3

Deep in the Temple of Shadows a dark vortex opened from thin air. Out stepped the red hooded man wearing a white mask, with his first step from the vortex he staggered, falling over on his hands he took several deep breaths. After a moment he stood up letting out a low growl.

He was weak, the ritual hadn't fully returned his power, what he had was used during the confrontation with the hero. He took several more deep breathes and pondered what his next course of action would be.

The man needed to prepare, the state the world was in would never allow him in their good graces. He would have to find other ways to bend it to it's knees.

Walking back to the Temple's library, the man sat down to rest. While deep in thought, he began to tap his finger across the table's hard surface. Minutes later, he could feel some of his power return. Reaching his hand forward he pointed it down towards the floor, a small spark shot from a single fingertip and settled slowly onto the ground. In an instant the spark enlarged to form a new vortex that split off into many more, covering the floor in a blanket of darkness.

From each vortex a large stone hand sprouted upward, it grabbed onto the edge of the floor and pulled itself out. The creatures emerging from the black holes stood tall with a hunched back. They were fully covered in stone armor, decorated in rust colored designs, the helm of the armor were of a snarling jackal. Each creature held a long double bladed staff that glowed with an eerie red mist.

At first, while they emerged, they snarled in anger. Feeling the presence of someone, they prepared to attack, but as soon as they laid eyes on the masked man they immediately halted and knelt before him.

The man stood over them, looking from creature to creature.

"Minions, it has been many years since your master has called for you. The world around us has changed, the heroes are gone, their guild is destroyed, and the people are weak. Now it is time for me to take back Albion, you will be my instruments of death and devastation." Loud approving grunts are all the Minions replied with as they awaited orders from their master.

"Search this decrepit temple for dark artifacts, salvage all you can and bring it back to me." He pointed towards the exit of the chamber and, without hesitation, the Minions marched out, separated into smaller groups and entered the other chambers.

The masked man sat down again, continuing his earlier tapping against the table. He needed a plan. With no sword or ancient gate, he did not know how he would conquer Albion. Even at his full power, victory was not absolute. There was only no record of more heroes, that was no definite that there weren't others. Possible children of the hero he had just killed, or even long lost descendants that knew nothing of their power. He had made the mistake of ignoring the notion a long time ago, he wouldn't make it again.

A deep sigh came from the man, he knew what he would have to do, but he didn't like it. He needed to bring back the Court, with their combined power, no hero would stand against him.

The man reached down to his chest and pulled off one of the masks latched onto it. It was almost identical to his own, but the differences were easily visible. The chin of the mask was larger and more broad. Long red triangles lined near one eye, small purple symbols decorated the other side. The most notable feature was near the mouth of the mask. A large frown was stitched across it from one side to the other.

He looked at the mask, the empty eyes looked back. The man let out another, longer, sigh.

"Oh Knight, you strong single-minded fool. Only the right blood will work for you, but whose blood is that?" Just then a passage from a book he had read earlier formed in his mind. He quickly placed the mask on the table and reached for the book. It was the biography of the hero he killed, flipping through the pages he found what he was looking for.

'And so, with the defeat of Lucien's soldier and the death of the Abbot, Sparrow had accomplished his goal and recruited the first hero. The hero of Strength, Hannah, now being known as Hammer. Though she did not look like much, with her trusted hammer in her hands she could destroy any obstacle in her way with great power.'

After reading the passage, the man closed the book and set it down with the others. He grabbed the mask and placed it back on his chest.

"An acceptable candidate, don't worry brother you will soon be back to the waking world. But before then, other preparations must be made to ensure everything plays out in my favor."

A/N: Chapter is a lot shorter then the others but they'll get bigger and hopefully better. If you've enjoyed everything so far make a review, need some motivation juice pumping to help get this stuff made faster.