Somewhere...the abyss

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Hunter

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His eyes opened slowly to meet the the ardent stride of the hunter before him. Even after the passing ages, in all the plotting, planning, and calculating, one of his greatest prides was the creation of his hunters. Their lithe and graceful forms, rippling with powerful tendons beneath their feline forms, honed through untold millennium into perfect tools of subtlety, intrigue, and assassination. He had already sensed what his servant was about to inform him of, but discipline had to be maintained. Discipline, such an odd word for children of the abyss, but The Hunter was no ordinary child, nor were his creations.

"My lord, your hunters wish to inform you that the events upon the prime worlds you once took such interest in, are displaying the signs you commanded be watched for." With an unspoken command, the receipt of information was confirmed and the servant departed the cavernous, brooding throne room of The Dark Hunter. Already, across the vast distances of the planes, he could feel a tingling in his being. A familiar tinge, all too familiar. One that he had not felt since the great wars that raged across those prime worlds of Tenaria and Ayenee countless ages ago. He could sense the nascent presence of that double eged sword, eternal enemy and ally, self proclaimed hidden lord, and all around planar thorn in his side, returning.

It was the folly of mortals to play with those things that they could never comprehend. Yet the pleasure, the chaos, was such a sweet nectar, that even the riskiest of odds seemed worth it. Much could not be gained without risk, so long as the rule of one could be maintained:the rule of number one, himself. It had kept him alive through the battles against the bastardized angelic incarnations of his own kin, against self proclaimed deities, and even overgods themselves. Through all this he had managed to survive, and increase his wealth of knowledge and power. Now it would be time to once again enter the fray.

With that, in the stolid silence of his throne room, he stood and walked, mighty frame melding once again into the guise of the traveler. With a crackle of purplish eldrich energies from his fingertips, a tear in the planes was opened, and through he stepped. The Hunter was returning to the game.
 
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