The Year 1543 B.R.

ROSS LORIANT PACED within the dining room of his manor, his footsteps echoing against the bare stone walls. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, illuminating the only furniture adorning the room: a worn wooden table and five chairs, one at the head and two on either side. His brothers, whom would have his answer for him, would soon fill four of those chairs.

As the sound of murmuring voices approached, Loriant quickly became still, his eyes filled with excitement, if his brothers agreed; the prospects would be infinite for him. The power would be his. He stared at the two tall metal doors, anxiously waiting, yet conjuring up an air of nonchalance. Four men entered the room; all had light blonde hair and pale eyes, similar to their eldest brother, Loriant. Quick greetings ensued, each bowing in turn to his feet before walking confidently over to their respective chairs and sitting, waiting for Loriant to join them. He treaded over to his chair at the head, and all eyes turned towards him as he spoke first.

"My brothers, I have called you to hear your thoughts on this matter. What conclusion have you come to?" Loriant's voice rang through out the hall; he stood patiently, anticipating their response. The four glanced at each other a silent confirmation. Then Loriant's youngest brother, Jordan, nodded and turned back to him.

"We agree, My Lord, we are all willing." Jordan spoke. Loriant smiled internally as he heard himself being addressed like that. His excitement grew at the prospect that soon everyone would know him by that name. "Though the journey will be dangerous, we consent. We will join you to the Mountain of Atrumvorago . If what you say is true, Santana will be under our rule in a few short years."

All four nodded; the prospect of such power quickly emerged on their faces. Loriant smiled at their naivety.
"Thank you, my brothers. Power and greatness will surely come out of this. I will take my leave now. I must prepare…" Loriant worked hard to control the emotion on his face. It was not in his best interest to reveal himself now. He was having a hard time resisting the urge to laugh, to jump, but he kept his face as solemn as he could and left the chamber. The four brothers quickly fell into harsh whispers as they considered what they were about to do.

The door slammed shut behind Loriant, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, bouncing off the bare walls. He strode quickly; his shoulders straight and erect, a smirk making its way onto his face. Every line of his sharp features showed malice. It then traveled into his light blue eyes. Klepsydra, a stealer of time -- that is what he would call himself. His smirk grew at this self-proclamation. He was close, he could taste the total control, the power, the dominance, and all he needed to do was to get his brothers there. What idiots they were. Four was more than needed to be sacrificed. He really could have done it with just one, but he would not have been the one and only ruler if his brothers shared in the fame. He was to be the only person to know the secret to everlasting life. And only with immortality can he hope to rule Santana all of eternity.

The Year 1603 B.R.

A battlefield stood below him. Blood covered the dirt and grass. Cries of pain and triumph rose from both parties, traveling to his ears: a welcome sound. His elf warriors fought, close to victory as the remaining humans dwindled and fell. The elves had joined his side quickly, for they loved to side with power. How could one resist a leader who could not be killed?

A young elf ran to the base of the hill that Ross Loriant stood on, overlooking the battlefield. The elf's golden hair shone under his metal helmet, his eyes betraying what little innocence he had left before he reached manhood. It was an interesting sight, really, to see these men that possessed beauty that human women could only hope to achieve. The elf called up to him.

"The village has surrendered, My Lord!" Loriant scanned the landscape and squinted towards a white flag held by a young man. A grin emerged on his sharp features.

"Surrender or not they stood against me. Kill every man in uniform, leave no one alive! I want the message to be heard. Anyone who dares to defy me shall be slaughtered!"

The young elf sprinted away as soon when Loriant finished. He soon saw the effects of his words, a battle cry rose from his army and a great frenzy of panic could be seen from the survivors. The men yelled and the women cried, clutching their children who could not understand the actions he had just ordered upon them.

Any twinge of guilt he could of felt was lost in his sheer excitement of seeing his orders and commands being followed. Santana was quickly falling under his rule, and no one was powerful enough to match him.