![Image](http://i52.photobucket.com/albums/g3/Baals_Baby/Lucain/CustomKodaiMale44.gif)
Light from the waning moon filtered in through the cracked and broken panels of stained glass, dappling the floor of the ancient cathedral with hazy pools of color. Even though it was a few hours to sunrise, everything in this dismal place seemed shrouded in darkness except for the patterned floor, over which clacked the stone-worn claws of an odd sort of Lucain. He was completely furless, covered with a sickly grey-green skin marred by strange scars that seemed to form complex patterns. Gold bands were wrapped around his wrists and neck, and the symbol of the Triumvirate hung from both his ear and the gold neck band. Slowly, he paced the rows of damaged pews and the area before the altar, occasionally glancing up towards the light.
How long... How long has it been...?
The Lucain came to a pause at the altar, lowering his head and sniffing at scents long ingrained there, now ingrained in his memory. It was the only way to remember... Everyone else had gone, but he had remained, bound here by the powers of that priest, forced to serve and protect the cathedral until his ending... whenever that may be. This existence was a long and lonely one...