The walls of Crimson Haven groaned under the weight of gathering storm clouds that pressed against the gothic spires like the fists of wrathful gods. Thunder rumbled above in a continuous growl of something ancient and angry, each boom rattling the stained glass windows that depicted scenes of conquest and divine wrath. The nobles inside Lucien Mason's grand war chamber whispered behind folded fans and polished masks, their eyes fixed on the Bloodbound Tyrant who stood alone before the massive tactical table carved from a single piece of obsidian.
He had changed in the weeks since claiming the Progenitor's Will.
