Vaelthor/Vincent
And then, one night, like lightning ripping the abyss open, the chance we'd been waiting for finally struck.
It was during Krelth's so-called grand feast to honor our traditions. A celebration, at least that's what he wanted everyone to believe. But it wasn't about tradition, or generosity, or honoring anyone but himself. No—this was nothing more than a shrine to his ego. Every golden cup brimming with wine, every dripping slab of roasted meat, every jewel-studded banner hanging from the black stone walls screamed the same message: look at me, look at how powerful I am.
