A figure emerged from the haze, each step leaving the ground blackened and rotting. His armor was a grotesque carapace of writhing brown, mouths gaping open, gnashing at the air like starving dogs. In his grip, a massive scythe spun in a lazy circle, gleaming with the promise of ruin. He leveled it at the one before him, tone disturbingly calm against the horror of his form.
“We’re both demons,” Vorvain said, a crooked smile twisting across his face, hungry and unending. “So why waste time fighting? Come closer… let me savor your essence as I devour you.”
The figure opposite him chuckled, the sound like fire cracking in a forge. His demon-draconic armor shimmered with black scales veined in molten red, flames crawling across him like a second skin. The wind tore through his black hair, s
