• A lone figure stands in the window of a dilapidated tower. His face is hidden in the shadow of his hood. His eyes give an angry red glow as he glowers at the world. His torn clothes reveal the darkness that has crept out from his heart, and now covers his skin in the black of night. From behind him glides a dragon, its dark scales seeming to absorb all light, only to have it released through its gleaming red eyes. It lands on the ledge created by the window, stone crumbling away under its weight. The fire breather lets out a small growl, smoke escaping between clenched, predatory teeth. One gloved hand reaches out and strokes the small reptile gently, "Yes.. I know. We will have our time, but we must be patient. Timing is as important as power. Striking when the enemy is expecting it is futile." The dark figure walks away from the window, the dragon flying up and landing on his shoulder. The man picks up a large golden sword, "We must strike when they have become placid, sure of themselves and their safety. Only then can we win, and slay those who scorned us." Holding the blade up to his face, he speaks a word. Instantly, the sword busts into flame, exciting the dark dragon. The evil creature leaps from the Sorcerer's shoulder to circle his head, hissing evilly. The man lowers the sword, and looks back out the window, "Only then, will we have our vengeance."