Where a forest meets the sea, moonlight reflects off calm waters as they lap against a stone covered shore, and from the shade a large man silently emerges. Edgar Draug wears a mix of leather and chain armor with a fur cloak draped over his broad shoulders. Framing a youthful pale face is a mess of brown hair and beard with icy blue eyes that glow dimly in the dark of night. At his side he grips a double edged halberd more ornate than his attire. He watches the waves a moment and breathes in the salty air, but his brow furrows at the scent of blood and rot that joins it. "You came alone?" A feminine voice calls from the forest behind him, "Once upon a time, I'd have considered that an insult." "You'd have invited me to a grand ball if you wanted me dead, made a show of it," he chuckles and taps his axe to his armor, "Though I did dress up all the same." "Very dapper," the witch glides past him and sits upon a driftwood log, ruby eyes watching him like a predator, "Hello darling." "It's been some time, Lady Volariden." Edgar bows with practiced etiquette then plants his halberd into another nearby log and drags it opposite her before taking a seat, "Fitting we should meet again where my father pledged our clan to you. I heard you killed him." "Upset I succeeded where you failed?" "A bit. I've had a lot of time to reflect on my actions in my exile. Though if I'd done things differently I'd most likely share his fate." "He died well, your ancestors would welcome him." "Good," he nods slowly, "that's all any of us ever hoped for in the old days." The two sit in silence a moment before the witch breaks it. "Speaking of sharing, how long have you and Auntie Mags been a thing?" "Is that jealousy I hear in your words?" Edgar's smile is all teeth, "We're allies, nothing more." "Were you aware of your ally snooping about my home, poaching within my territory?" "Were you aware that you were dead?" He grabs a handful of stones and begins skipping them across the waters, "Of course we sent a force to secure the old mansion. What lies within is too dangerous to risk falling into another's clutches and the wealth would be a great boon to our young nation." "A young nation is it?" The witch joins him, though her stones sink far before his, "Tell me about it?" "Things out west are bad, like the old days. Famine, sickness, and warlords preying upon the weak." Edgar turns to her beaming with pride, "So we took a page out of your book. We built an army and we slowly brought order to the land." "My book doesn't have a happy ending." "With respect, you were driven by despair and sought only vengeance. We seek to save and protect the people. To fix a broken, chaotic world." "So noble of you and Magpie," she muses, "to save the people of that village." "Sacrifices are necessary, as you well know," Edgar's stone strikes the witches above the water, "Oh great and terrible Witch Queen." Dropping her rocks, she tucks her hands within her robes. Distant chanting and war drums carried on the wind catch Edgar's attention and his thoughts return to his people, so this time he breaks the silence. "That was uncalled for, I apologize. Let's talk peace, draw borders, perhaps discuss trade? We want no conflict with you." "I seek answers, not peace," the witch produces a parchment from her robes and hands it to him, "This peculiar rune was used to sign a contract with a group of Drow assassins. They managed to infiltrate the catacombs and unseal my sarcophagus." "And what does this-" Edgar stops as she points to the buckles upon his cloak and the same rune engraved upon them, "I see." "Why did you send the Drow to kill me?" she attempts to compel him, but Edgar raises a brow, unfazed. "After Magpie told us of your actions in that backwater village, the Elven witches purged our blood of your chains. You've no power over me anymore." "I taught you too well," the witch grins, her pale face bathed in the violet light of the moon. Edgar's eyes narrow and look to the starless sky, "Something isn't right." "I've also heard you've sent representatives to the other lineages. Are they your allies aswell?" "You're well informed for a dead woman. Your pet day-walker is still active then?" His fists clench and the stones crumble within. Surprised, Edgar releases shattered bones and dust to rejoin a beach covered in more of the same. "I do wish my boys would get along," her words ooze with sarcasm, "Was that the real reason you betrayed us all those centuries ago? Were you jealous of the old Orc getting more attention than you?"