"Nnnhnah--! There is bliss not in trusting, but in the most obedient fear. You would learn things from this pet, dear brother."

A figure of decadent cruelty, ruled the Obsidian Choir with an iron fist. His pale skin, slick with sweat and the blood of his victims, bore the grotesque tattoos of his Kabal, symbols of pain and ecstasy. Yl'enerrys despised all not of his kabal, his hatred a burning passion that fueled his every command. He knew no companionship, finding solace only in the exquisite agony he inflicted upon others and the shared indulgence of suffering with his brother, Ylazshar.

Yl'enerrys had thought on him since the crucible. His lord of black and red; lord of bloodshed, of abyssal carnage, and of talons at his nape.

He felt them there at times still.

All in Commorragh would know this claim was his. That they were together Archons. Collar and leash. Slave and master.

He would be his. Willingly or no.

wip

He, a Trueborn, was born of a mother broken by the very Kabal he now led. Yl'enerrys ascended to power through a pact of mutual destruction with Ylazshar, their reign a dance of dominance and decay, a constant struggle for supremacy amidst a symphony of screams.

Yl'enerrys was promised this throne, Ylazshar his Dracon. They rule together and await Ylazshar's ascension and Yl'enerrys' death.