Lord Malak of Darkwood stood by a long operating table at the edge of a large pit in one of the rooms of his laboratory, leaning over the body of a naked young woman who had been clamped down to the table. The room was dark, and the Warlock's eyes glowed an eerie green color as he worked on the woman strapped to the blood-covered metal table. Occasionally, a large shadow would move restlessly from beneath in the pit into which her blood drained. Malak was wearing a sleek black apron over his robes, meant to catch blood as it splashed whenever he made one of his cuts. The woman was alive, and conscious, her lips had been sealed together to stifle her screaming and her body twitched in pain every couple of seconds.<br/><br/>Malak smiled as his current subject twisted and writhed in the chair, reacting so well to every stroke of his instruments, his scalpels, his needles, his dark magic burning every nerve she had while slowly restoring her flesh in an unbelievably painful way, he kept her alive the entire time. . Malak had removed the girl's limbs and regrown them several times in the last couple hours and used his powerful magic to mute her screams of pain, having grown bored of them hours ago. The girl's eyes were empty, her spirit broken after hours of long torture. Malak had been attempting to learn how to instill the ability of regeneration into his creatures, but after three hours of experimentation, after cutting out her heart and replacing it with a stone, then putting it back in place when that didn't work... really, now he was just having fun.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"Now, now sweetheart, it is almost over"</span>Malak's grin never faded. He had effectively ruined the girl's life, and of course would end it in favor of a new test subject very, very soon.<br/><br/>While much of the castle had not been altered in much any way by Lord Vayne's soldiers, save for some decorations being outfitted with the king's insignia and colors, Malak's lab had undergone a radical change. The warlock had moved various items and apparatus from his real lab in his home region, giving the entire area the feeling and look of a cross between a Library, torture chamber, and crypt, coupled with Malak's own aura and the smell of blood and old books made the place very unpleasant for most. The siren's knock went unnoticed by the Warlock, too deep in his experiment to pay attention to outside distractions, however, it did not go completely unnoticed, Black ears perked and a furry body moved away from the door, trotting down the hall to Malak as he worked.<br/><br/>Malak's fun was interrupted by the sound of a deep, growling voice from behind him, speaking one word to get the warlock's attention.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#008000">"LordMaster..."</span><br/><br/>Malak looked up from his experiment, much to the relief of the woman who lie on the table, his smile breaking for a moment, his head turned to his familiar and he spoke.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"What is it Fenrir? I am busy." </span><br/><br/>Malak turned around from his victim and looked slightly down, he knew the voice, and where to look to note where his favorite familiar was standing. Fenrir was a wolf, a gigantic wolf large had jet black fur and green eyes almost as luminous as the one he referred to as "Lordmaster" . Fenrir was Malak's alpha wolf, the leader of his beloved pups and his most loyal servant. Darkwood wolves were more impressive specimens than the wolves of other countries, generations of taint exposure left them much more aggressive and intelligent enough to speak in a crude way.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#008000">â??Intruder is at the door, Smells not human, voice is womanâ?</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"Hm, I wonder who it could be?â?</span>Malak spoke to himself, turning back to his victim<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">â??I must be being summoned, oh how I despise having to end such funâ?</span>Malak was used to not recieving visitors all that often. Few in the Dark army were brave enough to approach his lab, as it's owner had gained quite the terrifying reputation. It was actually fitting, as many vanished inside and never came out of the place, and the thick black oak door did an insufficient job at muffling the screams of those being experimented on inside the lab. Malak's own aura tended to leak out as well, bathing passerby in an icy cold fear that seemed to linger as well.<br/><br/>Malak leaned in close to the girl, gazing into her terror-filled eyes and stroked her cheek with a bloody glove, a wicked smile spreading across his face, his teeth showing a fang or two.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"Goodbye dear, I had so much fun with you, it is so hard to say goodbye"</span>Malak's harmless little smile changed to a sneer and he cackled before violently kicking a small lever below the operation table, causing it to suddenly tilt back. Malak watched the woman's eyes widen as her body slid down the table and fell into the shadows of the pit. As soon as the 'thump' could be heard, the shadows that had been moving around in the pit surged inward, and Malak turned to the exit of the laboratory, removing the blood-spattered apron and throwing it onto a nearby table, straightening his robes before he walked to the exit. Malak turned towards Fenrir briefly before walking to the door.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">â??Go ahead and join your brethren in the feast, I have no more need for that oneâ?</span>. Malak walked back into the hallway that lead outside, approaching the door and examining it before reaching for the handle.<br/><br/>Malak gripped the handle of the large black oak door and pulled, opening it a tiny bit, before peering through the crack in the door. Outside was Aneolis, the Siren. The Siren's physical beauty was almost overwhelming, and her nature and cruelty were equally admirable, she was not to be underestimated at all. Malak swung the door open shortly afterward, presenting himself fully to the Siren and correcting his robe's edges.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"Good Evening, Madame Aneolis, you look lovely as always..."</span>The good evening was a formality, truthfully, Malak had no idea what time it really was, and the eclipse did often make telling the time difficult. Malak's eyes scanned over the female briefly before he closed them and swung the door open all the way, stepping out of the doorway almost cautiously.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"It is good to see you again, I was just feeding my pups"</span>Malak lifted a hand to his chin, the experiment fresh in his mind.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">"Sooo... Has our benevolent king summoned us?"</span>Malak began, stepping out the doorway, a little curious as to the reason for the Sirenâ??s visit<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bf00">â??Or is this social visit?â?</span>Malak cocked his head to the side curiously, he rarely ever got company, and his place was an absolute mess too. Malak made a mental note to talk to the Siren later about the healing potion thing. Malak's luminous green eyes remained fixed on her silvers. The male was not wearing his hood, he felt no reason to, and in the low light outside his lab his eyes literally glowed in the dim light, reflecting his great magic power, and his corruption. Malak offered the female a polite smile, awaiting her answer.