Serana
The cosmos was full of wonder. The night sky contained a multitude of lights, each a world separated by an endless void cast in their shadow. This ‘Shadow Realm’ contained infinite possibilities, and the promise of fel power the likes of which only the Allfather spoken of by the fallen Archons had ever been claimed to match. Demons and horrors that had never been seen before came from this place at the calling of sorcerers, and nearly consumed Athla in Serana’s youth.
Even as a little girl her heart called out to the darkness in longing for its glory. Even now her lifeless heart thirsted for the novel splendor of the Shadow Realm. Once she had avenged her people and conquered her world Serana decided to indulge that childhood desire, and sought new worlds to savor and murder. In each she left behind an empire, the way cleared by the dead for the elves of Athla to establish their colonies.
But, something was different this time. Serana always experienced a period of shadow sickness after making the sojourn between worlds, in which her vast power was lessened as she discovered the metaphysical rules of the new world. It was a matter soon corrected, and her conquest began soon after as scheduled.
This accursed world was somehow different. The typical shadow sickness did not take hold - or rather, it did not manifest in the same manner as before. Rather than rediscover everything from basics, she felt… whole. And yet, something was limiting her as well. She attempted immediately to call the dead of the strange, towering city of cement and glass into her thrall so that she might drown this world in bodies, and was rebuffed.
This world was unique. This world was… dare she say it, a challenge? Serana’s hands closed into fists, her skin momentarily splitting while black lightning danced between the cracks. How irritating.
No matter, this would only delay the end. She was an elf - a Harbinger of Death. She had eternity to conquer the slow way if that was what the situation called for. With that said, she ventured forth into the city on the blackened husk of a unicorn so that she might survey the field in style. She was accompanied by a dozen damned souls who floated through the walls of the nearby buildings, feasting upon the blood and souls of the impoverished slumbering humans who infested the alleys between them. Another dozen of her finest elven guardsmen marched silently in formation by her side through the streets. In the shadow of her bleak tower of Sur Carys she rode block by block, announcing without words her sovereign rule.
