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The hooded man quietly stalked his prey, a mission not for profit or fame, nor for sport but for something entirely different. His target was not whom he was stalking, though someone far more important to him. The figure in front of him was merely an unknowing guide to where the hooded man needed to go. As he silently followed he began to think about the information he had gathered. Stories and legends about the sinister rants and ravages of those who were of half blood. Though they were not of the halflings such as the half-elves, or dwarves and such. No, half blood that was far more foul, and yet almost pure. Tainted blood of the half-demon.
The stories only spoke of one of such a creature. They seemed to have forgotten that for every one of something, there's usually a second. The other parts of the legends and stories spoke of where one might find this half-blood. Within the woods upon the land that has been found, and kept. The building nothing more than a crypt of the once holy building it was before, and shadows that danced and moved about, swallowing the unfortunate saps who managed to get too close. The hooded man merely smiled at these stories, for he could sense the underlying truth within them. Those who told of this merely thought them stories and legends, they merely lacked the intelligence to know where and what to look for.
Soon the stalked shadow arrived to their destination, and the hooded man now only had one silent debate. Should he continue to follow his prey into the building, or should be "cordially" introduce himself? Though he was rather postive he'd be able to come in undetected, he was always partial to making big statements. As the doors to the building opened he stopped, having decided to make a big impression. Slowly he removed his hood, his short dark brown hair streak with blonde shifting slightly before being brushed down. The hooded man stood merely 5'11'' with Hazel colored eyes and light brown skin. An enigma of sorts, his face and eyes belied his nature. Unlike his older brother, he was the more calculative of the two, though his patience had its limits.
After all, he did share the same blood as the other.
The man stood there at the doors looking about, catching the movements all around him. They knew he was here, and he smiled as he cleared his throat.
With a booming voice, of which almost belittled his size he yelled "From the Darkest pits of Hell i call to my brother of the half blood! I call the Out from hiding by one name alone! I call out RAGE!"
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Frostt Bloodstorm
"If you want peace, prepare for War"
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