The Queen's Servants opened the door to the barracks rather rudely. They easily ignored the confusion they caused to the soldiers, it was none of their concern. What was their concern was following their Queen's commands. They were told to bring her finest soldiers to her. The one these servants searched for was known as Drexel, or Blood Hunter if one knew him by reputation only. He was easy to spot. All one had to do was search for the one who had a chain and Katar Blade on his person. They found him cleaning his blades.

"Drexel of Blood." said one of the servants. "The Queen summons you. Come with us."

Drexel Put the cloth down and looked at the servants. 

"What does the Queen want with me? I am but a low-ranking soldier."

"It matters not. The Queen has summoned you, so you must go to her. Or do you plan to defy the Prophet?"

Drexel stood up. He did not wish to disobey the one he trusts to overthrow the gods.

"I was only wondering aloud. I will go to her."

The servants turned to walk back, and Drexel followed. It was quite a way to the throne room where the Queen waited, so one servant decided to enlighten him a bit.

"We were ordered to bring the finest soldiers to her." said the servant. "Your achievements were notable, and your name is known to others in the army."

"I made a few traps and killed enemies. Any soldier can do that."

"But you spilled quite a bit of blood during your assignments. I heard that you returned from an assignment completely covered in it."

Drexel was silent. He didn't want to speak of irrelevant things. He only really obtained his reputation because he fought the way he knew best. By impairing his opponents. It just so happened that their bleeding weakened them enough for him to kill them. The "Hunter" part of his title came from his chasing. In his mind, if enemies were to escape, then any knowledge they had would make the next battle more difficult. It was logical. Although he didn't care much for his reputation, it never meant that he didn't relish the blood he spilled in every battle. He loved to smell the metallic scent before it soaks into the ground, and the taste of blood was nothing foreign to him. It was not bliss, but it was nice whenever he had the chance to appreciate that feeling of delight.

As they neared the chamber, the servants opened the door and bowed to their Queen. Drexel kneeled before her, and would not come up until she gives the command. The Queen, Bellatrix. The Prophet of Vahara who will take the place of the gods, and usher in the age of Mortals.