Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26245872-20141027213346/@comment-29458028-20141028102548

(Don't forget Raydin's evil, evil bitch sister...)

Sylarys smiled as she drank the blood and soul of the thirteenth victim. The plan was going swimmingly well. She had meditated and practiced her dark arts to the point where she could practice no more, or the energy she held would have been too great for her body to handle. A single sweep of her hand could call down a rain of fire that would make Alduin proud.

Over fifteen years, thousands of people vanished from the entire continent. Most of them ended up as part of Sylarys, their souls fueling her infernal magic. She had played both sides. On one hand, she carried out Molag Bal's bidding, on the other, she traded the souls she absorbed with the ideal masters.

(I guess we all know what happens if Sylarys gets killed and the souls are released.)