**Kan Slaar sighed. Essentially, he was bored. The Lord of the land of the dead, purgatory to some, home to others, was simply bored. Something over a year ago vast numbers of the souls residing here had been taken back to Velmaneth. Sure it was a bit crowded, and sure, their deaths hadn't been entirely fair. I mean, the Gods do as the Gods want...
But now the Hopewastes were, for want of a better analogy, quiet as the grave. This was helped in no small part by the fact that not a single new soul had entered this place in... 3 months? Too long.
Kan Slaar rose from his throne and paced. His magic flowed outward, sensing the world around him. Boredom was all very well and good but there was something else at play here.
As the Vampire looked to the planes above, something below stirred. Distracted by his aimless viewing of Velmaneth through the power of his own magiks, Kan Slaar was oblivious to the shadowy, demonic figure that literally pushed its way through the solid stone ground.
Seeing the black robed figure transfixed on some distant vision, the creature took it's cue, and dashed towards the exit to Kan Slaar's mausoleum.
The sudden movement caught his eye however, and the Lord of the Hopewastes snapped out of his trance just fast enough to ensnare the intruder with tendrils of dark power. He drew it closer to him, inspecting it as it twisted and squirmed in the grasp of his magic.**
"What are you and why are you here?"
**His voice was laden with curiosity. This form of demon was unknown to him. The creature stilled itself, bringing what could be it's face to view Kan Slaar. But it remained silent.**
"Where are you from?"
**The creature strained again against it's bindings, which drew gradually tighter and tighter until with a crack, a vital... thing within it's form broke. As what passes for life left it, a single sound issued forth from within it's twisted body.**
**Eyes widening, Kan Slaar let the creature drop to the floor and paced with some speed to the entrance to his home. Raised above the ground as it was, it lent good view to the bare fields of decay below, their twisted trees sprouting from the lifeless and pale land.
Here and there the lighter shades were punctuated by dark, moving figures. Demons.
Reaching his power downwards the Vampire sensed what he feared. A weakening. The Hopewastes was losing it's strength, and that which lay sealed away in deeper, darker places than even here, sought to find the light. Turning back to his mausoleum, Kan Slaar had just one word to say.**
Where the dead live on (dead characters only)
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Saga 2015 will be entirely celebrating and drinking with nothing bad happening and no bad guys showing up at all ever
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