He awoke with a start. Sweat clung to his chest, gleaming from him in the low lantern light like that of a madman. Throm rolled out of his bed, the cold contact of his bare feet upon the floor bringing him to full awareness. His tides of rage ebbed as did the most vivid of details of his dream, leaving a hollow chill to run it's course through his very core being. Walking slowly through the door of the bathroom which ran adjacent to his chambers, Throm breathed a soft word and dipped his hands into the cool water which now gurgled from a silver basin. Bringing the water to his face, he sighed as it ran down his cheeks as if washing away the harsh realization of the dream. "My list of enemies grows larger these days..." he muttered to himself. Throm returned to his chambers, reaching into his wardrobe to pull a loose black shirt about his torso. Stepping into a pair of equally black pants, he gazed out of the window judging the time to be late of night by the looks of the total lack of sunlight in the sky. Throm considered the possibility of notifying Sanria as he threw his cloak about his shoulders. He shook his head at once, chasing such thoughts from his head. It was early, and it would only serve to worry her further. No...he would handle this now and then inform Sanria in short order once Emalia was fine. After all, though the daughter of Sanria was no longer officially within the ranks of the Crimson Guardians, Throm had always felt it's members bound by far more than formality. As such, if Emalia or Colin were in danger he would see to it that such a danger were put to rest. Not to mention the fact that he would not watch another plague run rampant across the Realms. A brief flash of anger shot through him at the thought of Grobnak using a living being...one carrying a child no less as a vessel for his insane plots. And within that brief flash he desired no less than to unleash hell upon the Jihad Compound. To put an end to the latent threat that had plagued the Great Realms for so long. Slowly his demeanor calmed, and only then...when the red had faded from his vision, did he allow himself to think freely. No...he in fact would go to the Jihad Compound, but only to retrieve the Black Makou which Grobnak had originally used to infect Emalia. Tonight there would be no vengeance...such wasn't his style. Tonight he would be nothing more than a whisper upon a dark breeze.
The rain pattered lightly upon the ground, soothing even Throm's nerves after the traumatic message he had been given. In the near distance, he could spot the lights of the Jihad Compound. They were dim, though easily spotted among the darkness of the night. Deciding that a simple spell of concealment would not suffice, he instead took a deep breath and concentrated. Concentrated on nothing short of the removal of his being from reality itself. At once he was enveloped in a warm feeling that seemed to eject him into all directions at the same time. Opening his eyes, the world now appeared black and white. Devoid of color he knew now that he was no longer a participant, but now a spectator within the world he called home. Raising a hand in the direction of the Jihad Compound, Throm willed time itself to slow down...or was it him who would live faster? Regardless, he allowed the deep breath to escape his mouth as the rain drops suddenly began falling as if someone had suddenly cut the throttle threefold. He looked to the tip of his hand where the rain fell straight through what would have been flesh...were he a member of linear existance. In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the two guards who stood to either side of the entrance to the grove in which lay the headquarters of the Jihad. He had observed these guards before on routine surveillance excursions. Tonight was different though. Not just due to the fact that the insubstantial world about him had all of a sudden slowed to a crawl. The mannerisms in which the guards went about their ways were different tonight. One sat nearby the other one, seemingly locked in conversation. Thinking no more of it, Throm brushed past the two, finding himself at the downward entrance into the Compound. Flitting around a passing Jenovese, Throm soon found himself inside the large lab of the Jihad, looking upon a huge vat filled with a black substance which seemed to move of it's own accord. He reached down and filled two vials from a spout at the bottom of the vat.
"One for you...one for me. Time to find out exactly what this stuff does." he whispered to himself.
Quickly he moved towards the exit of the Compound, pausing only once near a statue of a Rok demon bearing the likeness of Grobnak. The one who had started this all.
"You raving fool....what have you done now?"
