"Lord, we will recapture them" Luthien licked his lips with a tongue that was suddenly dry. He knelt quickly, head bowed to hide his fear. "Angels are not so easily caught." The malignant voice rustled like autumn leaves on cobbles. "Your successor has already been chosen." A cowled figure emerged from the sepulchre, gnarled fingers traced a pattern in the air. A lightning ball crackled into existence over the guardmaster's head. "Your time is over" Luthien prostrated himself and wailed as the globe engulfed him, charring the life from his form before evaporating. What was left collapsed, smoking, to the flagstones.