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The mid-day had passed with Lilith pacing along the far end of that small wooden dock in her bare feet for an hour or more. Every now and then she would turn and catch the eye of a curious fisherman who no doubt wondered why she was there in the first place, seeing as how she wasn't fishing. Lilith was often quick with a disarming remark. "I'm waiting for the fish to give up." She would say with a smile. On more than one occasion the fisherman would try and spark up a conversation, but soon the gnome would make it perfectly clear that she was far to mentally occupied to converse.

She was in a predicament. No job. No pay. No money. No shelter. No food. The pressure was slowly starting to mount on her shoulders. More than anything though she was getting concerned that if she didn't find something soon she would have to resort to doing something desperate and likely illegal. The title of Warlock was still settling around her shoulders like a new cloak that just didn't feel right. She still felt very "green" and new, as if she knew just enough to make herself dangerous. Deadly even. Yet not enough to get away with whatever dastardly deed she could concoct.

Dastardly deed... Her mind jumped back to an almost distant memory. The memory of how her whole new life was started. Genevra. Matron Stoneheartd would know. She was wise and spoke honestly. Plainly. She could... Lilith stopped in her tracks.

She heads an organization of record keepers! She could give me a job! I've heard tales about those that work for her get to travel all over the world recording ancient histories, working along side archaeologists uncovering secrets of the past, I could... Her mind raced, pulling together different pieces, formulating a plan. I could pitch myself to her as a traveling scribe! I could travel from one place to another to make copies of records, perform research, deliver sensitive documents. Fel I could just be an errand gnome and that would work fine for me!

The raven-haired gnome found her pack sitting on the stone path near the dock. She slipped on her shoes and began pulling together inscriptions she had been working on. She had a few scrolls of lesser enchants she had been duplicating for practice on her own time. Further more she had been studying demonic script and runes. These were all talents she could present to Genevra while making her case.

Lilith slung the pack over her shoulders and set off toward the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind to find Genevra and The Conclave... or was it Her Convlave? Maybe it was just "Conclave". No matters, she was off to land her a rather perfect job!

An hour later, after searching through the Cathedral District and asking several people...

Lilith was off once again to Northshire Abbey! Where she was reassured Matron Genevra and her Conclave would be found.

The Dark Master would be pleased, in the end.

For the moment however, had he been watching her this past week he might be having second thoughts. That possibility weighed heavily in the back of Lilith's mind. If he were truly displeased, who knows how she might be made to suffer. Fear gripped her as her feet padded along the forest trail through Elwynn. She glanced back over a shoulder just in case, but really what good would peeking nervously over her shoulder do her. If The Dark Master wanted her dead she would be dead. Gone. Vanished. Never seen again.

Poof.

He had his ways. She forced herself to remember those ways and how much she desired to know them. That awful power he commanded. She wanted that power. Wanted it bad enough to seek him out. To commit herself without a second thought. Part of her was glad she hadn't given it a second thought, but the other part wished she had. She was having reservations about it all. Reservations over the one life. A single innocent life. To progress further on her path she must take that life, and to be honest she doubted that she could. It was one thing to witness the death and suffering of others. She had learned that it was quite another to be the progenitor of that pain. To be the one that took that life. Snuffed it out. Ended it.

In her time wandering Stormwind as a vagrant, trying to put her life back together, she had the fortune of keeping company with unsavory people. She overheard more than a few conversations about illegal happenings. The term "red in the ledger" was used more than once, and for some reason it stuck with her. Red in my ledger. She really didn't have any, aside from the sundry small animals but those were casualties of studies and experiments. Never for enjoyment or recreation. No, her ledger was still fairly clean.

So she wondered. How much red am I willing to put in my ledger? All for the sake of power.

Lilith wandered through Elwynn back toward Darkshire by way of the three corners tower. Her meeting with Genevra had gone better than expected. Matron Stoneheardt hired her on the spot. It was a simple entry level position as nothing more than a gofer, but the raven-haired gnome was content. She had a job and a new feeling of purpose, at least on the surface. Deep inside however she knew that at some point she had lost her motivation. It had been a long time since she had last seen her Grim Master.

Could he have forgotten about her? She wanted desperately to say no, but she faltered. She hadn't even summoned her imp in a few days and the few fire lessens he was teaching her were falling by the wayside. Strangely enough the Black Grimoire still never left her side, her thoughts just seldom turned to it. In the past few days it had become nothing more than a weight in her satchel.

Her momentum had stalled at some point, and now her wheels were spinning. She needed to find a way to regain her traction and fast.

My student is faltering, the dark feather clad man in the deepest recesses of the Slaughtered Lamb mused to himself. Here he was watching, from behind the trick wall, and with the accoutrements of his workshop around him, he sat in his padded armchair, and watched. To his demonic accomplices, each spread across the room doing allotted tasks and paying heed to the figure in the chair.

To the observers, he was a man, shrouded in magics and permanently emanating a copious amount of heat, the overflow of Fel energy seeped from him. The magics he commanded were potent and plentiful, in fact, he had done what few, if any other Warlocks could dream of. Yet he sat, idly kicking a leg as his mind saw other horizons, his eyes across the world, hundreds of them, each one hidden and waiting, following and monitoring. One of these, was set to follow his student, the unseen eye of Kilrogg trailing her every move.

Tyvian Reinheart frowned as Lilith plodded along, once full of ambition and bravery, now aimless and hesitant. "Perhaps the stress is too much to bear, or the will not solidified enough." The gnome he currently saw before him, he found disgusting. Another weak willed student who did not have the drive, the all important vision of what the rewards to gain were. The end would justify the means, and any student unwilling to push themselves, would stagnate and rot. A blight upon his kind, a risk and a liability to not only himself, but his entire coven. Something would have to be done, and the Fel Grandmaster believed he had a lesson in mind, one of choice and willpower.

Severing the sight to the eye, he gazed around the room, each of his demonic Legion stopped and looked back at him as he smiled. "After all, a Warlock without the will, finds themselves prey to the forces they should be master."

Lilith stopped along the road for a rest. She was nearing the logging camp and it was already high noon. If she didn't pick up the pace she would be forced to either spend the night with a bunch of smelly, loud, uncouth loggers, or brave the dark Duskwood at night.

Strange, she thought to herself as she dropped her heavy satchel by a tree just off the road. Not long ago I was plotting and planning all sorts of mischief. I was named a Warlock by my Dark Master... her thoughts drifted a moment before she came back to her current thought. I was even beginning to feel oddly comfortable in such a dark and foreboding place. Now the thought of treading back into those woods unsettles me. She wouldn't say it, she wouldn't even think it, but the truth was that she was afraid.

She rubbed the shoulder where he bag hung. Odd. I don't remember it being that heavy when I left. A thought occurred to her and she reverently opened the satchel. She looked up and down the road a moment and listened to make sure she would be alone before slowly pulling out the wrapped book. Stepping around the tree so she was in part hidden to the road, she sat down and unwrapped the tome.

It's black cover fashioned of a curious leather was hot to the touch, almost burning. She puzzled down at it a moment, then gingerly pulled open the cover with two fingers. She proceeded the same, turning each page with care. The entire Black Grimoire emanated an incredible heat. As she leafed through the pages she thought for a moment that it might suddenly burst into flames. This was all too strange. She needed a clue as to what she was dealing with and at that moment she had but one source.

Lilith covered the tome with the white linen wrap and snatched up her satchel, heading deeper into the forest. Not too far off the road she found a secluded glen where she was safe enough to work her conjuring. That it had been a while was evident in her hesitations. She ultimately erased and redrew her imps summoning circle three times before she was certain it was correct. She spoke the words and conjured the forces. In a bright flash of fire her impish minion appeared at the center of the circle.

The small creature crossed his arms and glared slightly up at the raven-haired gnome. Lilith attempted to glare back. "Well?"

The imp responded in a like tone, full of sarcasm and disdain. "Well what?"

"Help me out here! I need to know what I am dealing with!"

"Help you out! Do you know how long it has been since you've called on me? Hmmm?! I paced and paced and paced, running over designs and schemes in my head, preparing for the next time you summoned me so I could teach you more Glorious secrets of the mysterious Fel.... and what? You forget about me." The imp harrumphed and folded his arms, pouting. "You abandon me to suffer all manner of ridicule and slight from all the other imps. Those self same imps who were once jealous of me!... now they only scorn and ridicule because..." The imp averted his gaze and quieted.

"Because why?" Lilith asked, completely disinterested in this little melodrama.

"Because YOU..." his gaze filled with ire and disgust, jabbing a long clawed finger at her through the air. "YOU falter! You are WEAK!"

His honesty caught her off guard. For a moment she felt completely exposed. The imp continued. "That's right! You forget that we are bonded, you and I. I know your thoughts and if would listen then you would know mine. You prattle about, hemming and hawing over the life of one single innocent boy when you miss the grander picture!"

"Enough Chomat." She averted her eyes.

"No!" The imp hopped closer. "You need to hear this. You're non-comitment and indecision is putting you in the gravest of dangers."

"I know." She muttered.

"No, you don't. You can't know. If you did then you wouldn't be..."

"I do know." She said sharply glaring at the imp. Her eyes welling with tears. Chomat paused and took a step back.

"Oh. Are you going to weep?" He mocked. "Are you going to cry little gnomie?"

"Don't ever call me that." She glared harder.

"Call you what? Little? or Gnomie?" Lilith clenched her fists as a sudden flash of anger clouded her mind. She fought herself from striking out at the imp.

"Chomat. I only need your help with this one thing, then you can leave if it pains you so...." The imp cut her off.

"That's just it though! I don't ever want to leave! I want to stay right here with you." The imp clenched his eyes and strained, looking as if he were willing something to happen. Then it did. Chomat forcibly projected a thought into Lilith's mind. It hit her hard, spinning her world for a moment and causing her to stumble back against a tree. "You see?" The imp held out his hands. "If you weren't faltering then I wouldn't have had to push my thoughts at you like that. Disorienting isn't it? Instead you would have simply understood the idea I just drilled into your head." He tapped the side of his skull with a long finger.

Lilith shook her own head, clearing it. "Alright. I understand. You want to stay, you can stay. But you can't remain as you are."

Chomat bounced like a child and clapped. "Ooo! A disguise! I love disguises!"

Lilith held up a finger. "But first, help me understand why this book is emanating heat."

Chomat considered her and then the book for a long moment. Arms folded, holding his chin in one hand, tracing a finger along his upper lip. "Very well." he muttered. "I suppose we have to start somewhere, but as long as we get you back on track then anywhere is better than none. Show me the tome."

Lilith sat and unwrapped the Black Grimoire. The imp drew near and stood over it, looking along one side and then along another. He held his hand out over the cover, close but not touching. "Hmmm.... Yes." He hissed. Lilith quirked an eyebrow.

"What? What is it?"

The imp gazed down his long nose at her, his eyes half shut. "It seems to be hot." Lilith sharply pulled the hat off her head and made to swat at the imp, but he bounded back just out of her reach.

"I know it's hot you imp! I want to know why!"

Chomat shrugged. "How am I suppose to know? You didn't create it. I didn't create it. It's the product of the Grim one. That's all I can really tell you." Lilith sat back against the tree with a sigh.

"You're useless to me, Imp."

"And so far you're not much better, Warlock." The imp mocked. "After all, he's YOUR master. Not mine. You should know his mind better than most."

Lilith chewed on her lower lip for a moment. Know his mind. She rolled the thought over for a long moment. "Do you suppose he's been watching me? Do you suppose he knows that I've been faltering?"

"You once said that you could feel his gaze upon you, even when you slept. Has that changed?"

Lilith shrugged. "I've begun to feel like maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I so desperately wanted to belong, wanted to follow someone powerful, that created an illusion. Maybe..."

The imp gasped covering his mouth. He mumbled through his fingers. "Don't you say it. Don't you ever say it. Don't you even think it. Uttering such words, even in passing, might call down such retribution...." Chomat shuddered. Lilith apathetically shrugged and looked down at the book in her lap. The imp tapped his bottom lip, watching her closely. Grave concern drew his features down.

"My mymymy. That boy really got to you. The very notion of..." his hand worked idly in the air. "It really shut you down." Chomat sighed heavily. "I was afraid of this. I so desperately didn't want to believe it." The imp waddled over and plopped down beside Lilith, thrusting his legs out and wiggling his toes. He leaned back against the tree. "You're stuck my dear. Stuck spinning in place like a child's top."

"I know it." She muttered grimly. "It's just so unjust. It's not right. How can I take the one precious thing from that boy and use it for my own gain?"

"Ahh.." Chomat rolled his head toward her. "But you knew this from the beginning young warlock. You knew that the path you'd tread would be wrought with selfishness and suspicion. Oh sure. Lilith the enchanter, Lilith the school student, Lilith who is now a Conclave gofer, that Lilith has friends and family. A job. A career. Hopes and dreams. Noble aspirations." Lilith nodded as she listened, glanced to the side at the imps silly wiggling toes.

"At some point you will have to choose. Which Lilith will you be? This Lilith? The one with a life that is spinning out of control. Or the other Lilith. The young warlock who takes control. The one with the power."

"But at the cost of..." The imp cut her off.

"Yesss." he hissed. "Even at the cost of..." He left it unsaid. "At the cost of a dozen. A hundred. Thousands. Even if you have to set the kingdom itself a blaze, no cost is too great for the power which you seek. But first you have to WANT to seek it." The imp stood.

"So I suppose that is the real question here. Do you really want that power?"

Lilith gazed into the distant woods. A branch waved and suddenly she remembered that she was on a delivery. "Oh no! The light is fading," she started to gather her things. "and I need to be getting to Darkshire."

"Oh Darkshire!" Chomat bounced and clapped, suddenly deviated from the serious conversation like a child. "Such a lovely place! I will come too."

Lilith looked him over. "Not like that you're not." Chomat glanced around the woods. In the distance he spied a black house cat creeping through grass, hot on the trail of an unsuspecting mouse. The imp caught her gaze and then glanced over at the cat. The two exchanged a quiet conversation of gazes before the imp waved her off dismissively. He turned to the cat and hissed.

"Here kitty kitty kitty."

As the evening fell in Elwynn the night was sure to follow closely behind. Lilith decided not to brave the dark Duskwoods and instead put up with the foul creatures at Eastvale Logging Camp.

The little sweet looking raven-haired gnome walked into the camp followed closely by her new companion, a black feline familiar with oddly green eyes. Eyes that were constantly calculating and filled with mischief. She called him Salem.

There they stayed for the night.

The grass smoked for no apparent reason in the night. A wide swath that burst into flames before a swirling gateway appeared. Stepping through it, Grim raised his hand to beckon his Wrathguard, Arixadath to follow him. Diminishing behind him, the gateway began to close, growing smaller and smaller until nothing was left save the burned ground from which he had emerged, tendrils of smoke wafting still.

Elwynn, it was so tranquil at night. So quietly calm, so long as the Defias remnants kept their distance. The Warlock and his servant strode along until they came to the edges of the camp. The camp he could sense his grimoire was located.

"She needs to learn, either through herself, or through me. If she doesn't, the future "Imp Queen" will never see the dawn of her crowning day."

With a raised hand, already cut and bleeding, a whispered curse, he felt his grimoire seal shut, the pages fusing bound until not a seam was left. The whispers coming from behind the bone mask were harsh and foreign, the man's fingers curled around the magic that connected him to his creation. "We waited, Arix, we watched." The large Wrathguard nodded and growled, thrusting the pair of felsteel axes it wielded into the earth before crossing its arms. "Bring it to me. Bring me the imp, the success of the student. The lesson shall begin."

Arixadath, growled low, "As you command, I serve." Before the hulking fel monster lumbered off towards the camp, powerful muscles flexing in anticipation. Leaving behind a shadowed man, waiting in the night for what would transpire at the culmination of his lesson.

"Will I have a student by the end, or just a disappointing memory?"

Lilith was fortunate. Aside from Eastvales few permanent residents and a handful of migrant workers, the logging camp was largely empty for the time being.

Martial Haggard was a large and rough looking individual, but sort of man with a heart of gold. Especially when you have gold coin to offer. The kind rather harmless appearing raven-haired gnome caught him at a good time as he had plenty of space in his large house to accommodate her since the seasonal loggers were yet to arrive. The kind Mr. Haggard locked the home up tight and climbed the stairs to his own quarters, leaving Lilith downstairs alone on a bed near the hearth.

It was a typical cool night in Elwynn and the so the hearth was glowed with a soft warm fire. The gnome had situated herself atop the covers. Her newest companion, the black cat she called Salem who in fact was her minion Imp Chomat masquerading as a harmless cat, stretched out in the space near the foot of the bed. The pair spoke not a word, each on their way to an easy sleep.

Their calm was shattered by the heavy rapping at the homes' thick wooden chamber door. It jarred Lilith awake. Her eyes popped open and she glanced around the room not daring to sit up just yet. She hoped it had just been a dream or her imagination. The heavy rapping came a second time. Three solid thunks. The kind that reverberated through the solid log walls of the spacious home. It wasn't a dream.

Lilith sat straight up. Salem lay still stretched out across the bed, but his ears were flagged and green eyes fixated on the door far across the room. The gnome moved cautiously on her hands and knees across the bed and whispered.

“What is it?” She tried not to betray the growing tension of the knot in her stomach. The black cat whispered back in familiar voice that spoke the esoteric language of the demons.

“<Nothing good.>”

Mr. Haggard yelled from the landing above. “Yes! Yes! Hold your horses! I'm coming!” Heavy heels pounding each descending step. A darkness wholly different from the dark of night flooded the room bringing with it a thick cloak of dread. Martial Haggard's descent stopped. Salem's back hunched, hair standing on end. Lilith's stomach twisted and she gripped the sheets.

In that moment of anticipation time stood still.

Lilith and Salem stared past the soft glow of the hearth through the darkness of the room at the main chamber door. It was a thick and heavy door. Solid as a tree stump. Bound with thick iron bands and held into its jam with iron fasteners. It was built purposefully solid to keep out not only the cold but Defias bandits that once laid claim to the forest. Like the rest of the home, the main door was a solid structure that had withstood the test of time.

The pair huddled atop the bed, watching and listening. Silently Lilith hoped that whatever it was would knock again. Then maybe it would prove to just be another logger arriving late at night. Just another logger.

There would be no third attempt. The door creaked as pressure upon it increased from the outside. The wood moaned and soon the iron bands and hinges began to cry under the strain. Something on the other side was pressing its way in.

Salem glanced up at Lilith with glowing green eyes. Fel energy. The glance told her it was something huge. Something not of this realm. Lilith suddenly remembered, The Black Grimoire! She pulled her satchel close and freed tome, wildly freeing the black book from the white linen. She paused as she gripped its entirety with a hand on both sides. The book was cool to the touch. Earlier that day it had been burning, emanating with a profound heat. The gnome turned the book on its spine to crack it open. What she discovered caused her heart to sink into her stomach.

"The book..." she muttered aloud in utter disbelief. "It's sealed."

The pressure exerted against the door mounted. Tensions grew against the door and within the room showing no sign of stopping. The black cat Salem was the first to break. He scurried off the bed and under it with a panic. On instinct Lilith shielded her face with her arms.

The tension finally broke. Iron hinges popped and the thick heavy iron bound wooden door came crashing in, skidding a short distance across the floor. The light of the moon and the distant camp mixed, flooding in through the doorway, silhouetting a huge figure. It dipped its head low and twisted sideways, but even so the massive figure pressed against the door frame as it pushed itself inside blocking out the ambient light from outside.

It took one long stride into the room and stood its full height. Purple flesh pulled tight over hardened musculature. Its chest laid bare, its waist girded with wicked plated armor. Its broad shoulders were clad with similar plated spaulders each bearing a pair of long vicious blades that themselves looked as though they could barely be heaved by the burliest of men. The huge creature's head donned an all encompassing helmet. It also bore a long tall singular devilish blade. The armor was of a make unlike anything Lilith had ever seen, and she guessed that like the creature it was not of this realm.

It was the very essence of a nightmare made flesh, and fixed her in its dominating gaze.

The world around her was dark. Her body numb. Flickers of light drew her attention. Reality slowly pulled her back from the void.

Pain also returned to her numb body. Her limbs flinched. Fingers and toes gradually working. She was still alive. nothing serious broken. The raven-haired gnome had to force open one eye at a time. The fresh scent of grass filled her lungs and she realized she was face down.

Where was she?
What had happened?

Gritting her teeth against the deep aches and pains she lifted her head just enough to turn it toward the flickering light in the darkness. The log home of Mr. Haggard. It was where she had bedded down for the night. One complete wall of the home along with part of the roof was aflame. Twisting paths scorched into the green grass still burned. Their yellow flames licked up against the bark of several nearby trees. It was an unnatural fire. An imp's fire.

Now she remembered....

Mere moments ago a huge creature, a wrathful demon, broke down Mr. Haggard's door and demanded she turn over her imp. Her attempts to stall, play dumb and double talk to confuse the creature all failed. In fact they only served to further conjure the massive thing's ire.

Salem, the black cat, darted out from beneath the bed and danced circles around the huge creatures feet. He did well to evade the lumbering demon's attempts to grab him for a time. It would have even been humorous had the palpable threat of imminent death not loomed over her as it did. Soon the demons' prowess won out. With a single well coordinated kick Salem was sent hurling out the wide open door, stopping with a hard thud against a tree and disappearing amongst some bushes.

The beast strode outside and Lilith followed.

She couldn't be certain what exactly had happened at that point.

She was in a state of panic following the creature outside while trying to understand what was happening. At the same time she struggled to formulate a successful escape plan. The guise of Salem had been expelled and her Imp Chomat now raced through much of the logging camp with that behemoth of a demon in tow, doing well to evade every attempt at capture.

The Imp's thoughts rang loudly in her mind as their mental connection suddenly opened. At first she fought to make sense of it all. Chomat clearly knew exactly what this creature was and he was trying to communicate a plan of attack while evading capture.

Lilith pressed herself up to her knees trying hard not to groan.

Once they understood each other, she and her Imp began to fight back. The more aggressively she pressed the harder the imp worked, which in turn the pair began to channel more fel energies. Chomat soon began to glow with flames tinted green and yellow. In passing the imp caused a bush to combust and so Lilith decided to try and lead the fight away from the camp.

Lilith sat back on her heels and straightened her aching back, remembering.

Channeling what seemed like so much fel energy for her suddenly made so many esoteric things she had studied over the months finally fall into place. The dark arts were beginning to make more sense. It took a crisis like this to make her understand the portion of power she did actually hold as well as how to tap that reservoir. She dug deep and conjured her fel magics to rip the very shadows from the night. She concentrated them into a single powerful bolt of energy. She then attacked hurling them often and viciously at the creature.

Sitting in the cool of the night, the warmth of the distant fires just touching her, Lilith drew in a deep breath remembering how she felt possessed. She realized that moment that she had edged the precipice of losing herself to the madness of the fel. Battered, beaten, and exhausted as she was, she also realized that she had loved it. Kneeling in the grass shrouded by the night as she was, she had never felt more alive.

In the end it wasn't enough. The demon was more powerful than she could have ever realized. Her efforts were impressive by her own standards, but the demon shrugged her off with ease. At one point she had even managed to conjure her most potent agonizing curse. She had hoped to at cripple it long enough so she and her imp could at least flee. It merely caused the demon to sneeze violently. In that momentary break in the chaos the demon fix her in its deadly gaze again.

That is when it all must have gone wrong.

Lilith pulled her legs out straight and slumped forward, holding her head in her hands. Everything had gone wrong.

Chomat was successfully avoiding the demon while keeping its attention. Lilith's attacks only managed to annoy. Enough was enough when she tried to apply her curse of weakness and the enormous beast turned on her. Chomat came to his master's rescue. When he did, the demon easily captured the imp. Prize in hand, the demon immediately forgot about the relative annoyance that the gnome presented. It turned from Lilith and departed back into the woods.

Lilith had to get up. She needed to find her imp. She needed answers. Why was it after only her imp? Why here? Why now?

Lilith leaned over to press herself up but a searing pain ripped through her left arm. It surged up through her shoulder piercing into her head. This time she couldn't help but cry out. Tears welled in her eyes. She clasped her right hand over her mouth. Fighting through the searing pain she lifted up her left arm and blinked away the tears to better examine it.

Black charred flesh coated the arm, the worst of it in the shape of a hand grasping her forearm. The dark ghastly shape reminded the battered gnome of her final deed.

As the demon carried away her imp, Chomat called out to her. In hindsight the imp had manipulated her emotions as it knew it could. Her last effort was to run up beside the lumbering beast and grab hold of her imp's arm, as if she could ever pull Chomat from its grip.

She seized the imps forearm and it seized her's. On contact the imp surged with fel power. Looking back it seemed like a final desperate act. In that moment the pain was so unbearable that she didn't understand the imp's thoughts. Once it let go of her and she of it, Lilith collapsed where she now sat in the grass and lost consciousness.

As she examined the charred pattern wrapping her left arm the pain seemed to suddenly subside, but only enough to allow her to concentrate. There was a greater purpose to the burns her imp left her, confident that her imp did not disfigure her without good cause.

Suddenly, she became acutely aware of the gathering woodsmen rushing to help snuff out the flames before any serious damage could be done. She knew that soon the fires would be snuffed, and afterward many would be seeking the cause of the fires. They'd be turning to her with certain questions. Lilith wanted to, no, needed to avoid those questions, knowing that they would not like the answers. She was exposed, vulnerable, and in no shape to whip up a convincing lie. There was simply no way of knowing how many saw the encounter. How many of those just saw a gnome in the fray and how many of them saw that it was her?

Pushing that matter aside she struggled to her feet and put her back to the fires of the logging camp. Bloodied, battered, burnt, exhausted and nearly broken the raven-haired gnome limped into the dark forests of Elwynn. She sought her escape in the same darkness as the demon, following the path of the nightmare that abducted her Imp.

Cradling her badly charred arm close to her, Lilith mustered her courage. If she could find her imp and somehow recover it, then perhaps this night wouldn't be a total disaster.

The dark of night suited him, the black robe and feathered figure standing in the darkness for no discernible reason. He was waiting, a darker shadow, in the night, unmoving as he waited, staring off into the direction of the logging camp. Watching and waiting for his servant to return, successful as he knew, as he had seen.

At least something had occurred, she didn't lay down and cower, she mastered her fear and used it. Desperation is as good a motivator as any. As Tyvian continued to muse, he would occasionally extend a hand out into the night, and with a flash, be draining what little life essence there was from passing fauna. Can't have enough life essence after all.

Arixadath could be heard before he was seen emerging from the gloom of night, the thudding footsteps of his clawed feet on the forest earth preceded his arrival. In his grip, struggling to avoid suffocation from the large, powerful hand around it's throat, the imp flared fiery feet and hands, writhing to escape. The Wrathguard sneered down at the lesser demon, parts of his purple flesh still scarred and singed from the Gnome's magics had assaulted him.

Chomat, the Imp, continued to struggle in Arix's grasp as the elder master Warlock studied it. A small, simple imp, nothing too noteworthy about it. A deep bond, but that was to be expected. Tyvian finally strode forward to place the pitch black hood, and bone mask closer to Chomat.

"Tell me, Chomat. You are the only reason my student can be considered a practitioner of the Fel arts. A Warlock, now, why does she falter? Is it you? Are you inhibiting her progress?"

Speaking low and with an almost, visceral undertone, Tyvian turned his back on the pair of demons, to peer back into the direction that his student was. "Chomat. If I utterly destroy you, would she care? Would she weep? Or would she realize her folly, and remember that first lesson..."

"Power, always has a price."
Turning back to Chomat, bits of dark magic began to swirl around the man's fingers as he advanced on the Imp. "Call her to you. This will not be an easy lesson."

The glow of the fires were dimming, giving way to darkness.

Lilith rested her back against a tree. She glanced back toward the Eastvale Logging Camp a moment, catching her breath. Either the loggers were successfully snuffing the flames, or she was so deep into the forest that the night swallowed the distant flickers of light.

It was a rather gradual climb uphill. Had she not felt as though she'd been tossed about like a demon's plaything she would already be at lake's shore, just over the crest of the rise. Taking a few deep measured breaths to calm her racing heart, the raven-haired gnome pressed off the tree with her right arm and continued her progress forward.

A few steps later a dark image pierced her mind mixed with raw emotions. She stumbled forward landing atop her left arm that had been so badly burnt. Pain seared throughout and she muffled a cry, pressing her face into the moist green grass. Despite her pain the grass was cool, soft, and smelt pleasant. An island of comfort amidst her growing agony.

The image: Darkness. A figure. Rage. No, fear. Both. Everything swirled in her head as those same emotions clawed their way inside to fill her. She panted under the stress. After a moment she recognized what it was. Chomat. Her imp called out to her. He's panicked, but why? If he were slain she could simply summon him back into this realm. The imp surely knew the same, so why the panic? This isn't good. This whole thing wasn't good. It was crazy. The attack back at Eastvale felt completely random. Somewhere within she knew it couldn't be. None of it made any sense.

Lilith gritted her teeth, stifling the chaos and confusion ripping through her head. Almost there, was all she could communicate to her imp. She abruptly closed off her end of the bond the two shared. Chomat's shear panic caused her to anguish, fogging her thoughts. She had no choice but to cut him off, but not before she could pinpoint his location. She knew exactly where the imp was being held now, and she was close.

She pressed forward. With each step she reached deeper within, drawing to the surface whatever power she could from that darker place within herself, not knowing what she might find when she arrived. It wasn't much power, but it may just be enough.

It would have to be enough.

The moon light glimmered off the lake waters like so many diamonds. The pale light barely illuminated the shores before they were lost to the darkness of night, swallowed by Elwynn Forest.

Wild animals of all sorts prowled the shadows of day, but at night these roamed freely. Most notably the wolves of Elwynn. At night these reigned supreme, roaming the dark forests among their packs. Part of Lilith hoped she could avoid such creatures tonight. Another part of her would rather deal with a pack of wolves. Tonight there were worse things about. Tonight this forest was no place to be.

Lilith would soon realize, in a moment's hindsight, that she should have known. She should have seen this coming. Instead she had blinded herself, hoping if she ignored the matter long enough that a solution would some how magically appear to her.

What a fool she had been. There was no hiding from it. No hiding from Him. There never had been. There never will be.

Cresting the rise the gnome stepped out of the treeline toward the lake. Down the shoreline she knew Chomat, her imp, would be held by that fiendish beast. That much she expected.

Just outside the darkness of the forest was the behemoth. A nightmare turned flesh. An enormous demon bathed in moonlight. He stood tall, broad and stoic as if he had just been chiseled from a slab of fel tainted marble. The moonlight glinted off the long wicked blades affixed to his armor. A pair of beady eyes glowered back at her from deep beneath its all encompassing helmet as it held her imp. Its grip firm around Chomat's neck. The mere sight of the demon invoked a powerful intimidation that could stir a palpable fear within the hearts of the bravest men... and yet what stopped this gnome cold in her tracks stood off to the demons' side, well hidden within the darkness of Elwynn.

Most would have missed Him. She didn't. She couldn't. Standing still as death the darkness clung to him as though he belonged to it. Perhaps it belonged to him. What she could see was little more than a phantom, but even so she felt the bone mask beneath that dark hood fixing her in its glare. Searching her.
Studying.
Measuring.

Would she be found wanting?

Her heart dropped as she moved cautiously closer. That palpable fear stirred within but it came not from the demon. As if by instinct she gripped hold of what little bit of dark power she could conjure within. She stopped, leaving a respectable distance between them, turned from the demon and faced the grim darkness while cradling her badly burnt arm close. She struggled down to one knee and spoke a hushed greeting through gritted teeth and tightened jaw as not to grimace under the pain from her multitude of injuries. To the darkness she inclined her head.

"Master."

...and there it was. That moment of hindsight.

Kneeling before Grim, the Dark Master....

Each moment passed beneath the gaze of that bone mask stretched into an eternity for the gnome. The time for supposition had passed. Her sentencing would commence and soon the grim master would pass judgment and the punishment dolled out.

The aura of fear was oppressive. Beneath its weight Lilith strangely found a perverse sense of clarity with the Dark One looming over her. She held onto what dark power she could muster, little as it may be. If He judged her life worthless then she would die on her feet as a Warlock, not on the ground as a worm.

Everything in toll, it was the silence that had always unnerved her. Not a word, not a sound, nor so much as a gesture was uttered between them. But the moments of eternal silence were soon broken.

Distant sounds of twisting limbs, bending branches and snapping twigs came from the darkened forest. Something was coming. The sounds quickly grew louder. It was coming fast. From beneath the dark bushes and undergrowth Lilith's satchel broke free from the foliage and slid into the moonlight. The raven-haired gnome flinched at seeing it suddenly appear, being drug out of the darkness as if hauled by an unseen tether. Staring at it she hesitated a breath, thinking to glance up at the Dark Master but instead she fixed her gaze upon her simple book satchel.

Its woven exterior was smeared with mud and stained with grass and soil from being pulled across the ground by ethereal forces. Beneath the stains she noticed black marks as if it had been touched by fire. Fire. Lilith's face burned with shame as she realized what was still within the satchel.

The Black Grimoire. The very tome of dark arts given to her by the Dark Master himself! In the commotion of the demon's attack she had left it behind, wrapped in white linen, within this very satchel. Abandoned. It would seem that her circle of failure was now complete. She had allowed herself to stagnate, allowing weakness to fester within such that she was unable to adequately defend herself, her imp, or protect the secrets entrusted to her within the Black Grimoire. She had become utterly helpless.

She felt at the precipice in that moment, ready to accept her fate.

The satchel shifted. Something jostled within. Lilith watched on as an intense heat very suddenly emanated from the bag, so intense that what was inside burnt its way out without hardly igniting a flame. In the charred remains of her book satchel the Black Grimoire sat whole and unspoiled. It shifted across the ground almost as if under its own accord, coming to a stop in front of her and flopped open, pages fluttering.

The book opened. Lilith thought. How can that be? Only earlier it was sealed... The thought continued in her mind until she made the connection. This was the Dark Master's book. It obeyed his command. Heat often radiates from the master himself, similar to the heat that the book radiated just before its pages sealed. After a few more moments of silent contemplation, Lilith finally glanced up into the darkness.

Little more than a bone white mask could be seen hanging within the dark mass, its bleached scowl muted by the night. The eternal gaze fixed upon her. He sealed the book. It obeys His command. The Dark Master sent his own demon out to harass his student and take captive her imp.

Why? Her nimble gnomish mind sprang into gear, racing through all possible variables.
He could have had his demon kill me outright if I had failed him so completely.
He could have killed me himself in my sleep and spared the spectacle of me lighting the logging camp practically ablaze. No one would have ever known our connection.
So if I'm not dead now...

Lilith glanced down at the book. She was right. The tome laid open before her to a particular page. A page He intended her to see. A faint hope that perhaps all was not yet lost swirled to life. Her large gnomish eye widened as they scanned the two adjoining pages.

Lines crisscrossed, circles formed and connected, various other geometric patterns emerged and interconnected forming familiar ritualistic patterns of the Dark Arts. Runes appeared within and without the diagrams. Words were being revealed before her eyes as if she were witnessing everything being scrawled across each page for the first time. The grip she had maintained on that little bit of dark power within aided her understanding. It opened up doors and reveal pathways previously unknown to her, and as she had read she comprehended.

The full weight of understanding fell heavily upon her. When all had been revealed, and after a moment of intense scrutiny, Lilith sat back on her heels. She shivered.

It is true. Her mind fell silent. Nothing but her own words speaking truth rang within. I have failed him.

Indeed, it was true. Lilith had failed in nearly the worst way possible for a warlock of her station, save treachery. Her mind reeled back to the beginning. That long single conversation they held as He escorted her from one of Genevra's Sermons. They walked the long path to the Slaughtered Lamb. He had probed her even then, revealing harsh truths and simple but dire lessons to be learned as a test of her mettle. She had passed his tests then. In many ways this was the same test, and she had set herself up for failure.

“A warlock seeks to command the power of the Abyss,” She uttered barely above a whisper. Glancing over the knowledge of the Dark Grimoire she recalled these lessons. Her gaze fell into the void between the lines as she continued.

“... to bend it to their will. In turn the Abyss will attempt to bend the warlock to its will, thus slowly corrupting them.”