Terrible Revenge
To live as Druchii was never safe. At the best of times, you were a floating battleship-- invulnerable to direct attacks, but still so easily sunk by one well placed act of sabotage. At its worst, it was to be a guppy surrounded by chum in a shark infested ocean-- sans the purity of necessary cruelty, instead choking in sadism.
But these days... these days made even the most arrogant among the Druchii afraid, and long for the worst days.
For Malekith Raged.
He was a fearsome lord even when relaxed, and at the black-hearted brooding that passed for peace in his benighted mind; but his rages were all-together more terrible. To be in his sights was to be unsafe, whether the lowliest slave or highest lord of Naggarond; power blocs more ancient and terrible than the kingdoms of man were simply torn asunder as their linchpins were slain.
But that might be preferable to what waited before the Dark Elven leaders assembled before their dark King that day.
For Malekith plotted, and not the cold plots of an evil lord, but the foul things of a Witch-King.
"Morathi, dead. Tullaris, slain. Hellebron, rent apart by magic. Four of the Black Arks, destroyed. And each by the lesser races-- the cowardly Asrai, the filthy humans, and the inane Lizardmen. There was a time when those cowardly fools would not have dared stand against us-- but they lack, now, the wisdom to fear.
Thus, I tell you now: we will remind them. We will salt their fields; we will burn their lands; we will plunder their cities. And they have sewn the seeds of their own destruction.
Hence from this day forth I tell you: Find me the kin of the quicklings who have my servants slain, and you will be rewarded."