Wands could do wonders. Hah, that was kind of catchy! Namfoodle daydreamed as he stared at his newly depleted wand of reanimation he had received as a gift when he left the tutoring of the old lich. He tossed it over his shoulder, onto the busy dirt path. He was sitting on a cushioned silk chair and was actually being carried towards his old home by a team of four skeletons who held the chair aloft. Magic was truly the most powerful art in the world, he though. To Namfoodle's surprise the skeleton-propelled silken chair was a smooth ride. He had dozed off once or twice as the undead marched for now approaching citadel. His staff was over was resting on his shoulder, clutched to by his right hand. Oneshoe looked down at the skeletons with an arrogant smile, and then surveyed the crowd of evil beings marching along the paved road. Lesser filth. It dismayed him to see how desperate the queen realy was. Oh well, he'd make everyone jealous when he got back. Friends, foes, relatives. No one would expect the slow Namfoodle to infact be a potent sorcerer of the dark powers. He took his wikeskin from his belt and took a long drink. He looked up at the tip of his ash staff, at the purple purple tied securely to its tip. Namfoodle rolled his eyes at what was in his opinion an unnattractive color. He looked up again, they approached the gate. The skeletons began to disintegrate into dust as they got closer.

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Namfoodle entered the audience hall with a pyrotechnics show of sorts. He invoked a demon-pact, and was enveloped in hellfire. Oneshoe winced slightly at the draining effect it had on him, but first impressions were very important. He cleared his throat and announced himself over the flames surrounding him and the voices.

"I, Namfoodle, Wielder of Hellish Powers, have returned home! Behold, Oneshoe clan, my mentors, I have become greater than any of you could have imagined! Tremble, my old rivals, for I may not be as easy to duel as I once was!"

He laughed as walked for a seat on the edge of an arrangement of seats for distinguished magicias of the citadel. Namfoodle dismissed the hellfire shield as he went. The seat he took had a "reserved" card placed on it, but he didn't care. He sweeped it off the seat, onto the floor. Then Namfoodle pulled the purple ribbon from his staff and tossed it casually to the floor, and stared ahead with a distant smirk, listening to the manbegin what Namfoodle assumed would be a long speech.

__________________
When a new day reaches dawn,
I feel it's worth the wait,
But I tumble and I fall,
I'm up against my fate.

When the barricades come down,
I'll build them up again,
When I'm just about to drown,
I still don't know the end.