Excerpt: The Mystic Rifts (Working title)

Prologue

He looked down upon the foggy city from the top of a large office building. He smirked coldly as he turned from the sight and began to pace back and forth atop the building. This will all be mine, he thought to himself, allowing himself a small chuckle. But first, I must take care of these impotent fools who brought me here.
He walked over to the edge of the building, standing next to the ancient, corroded gargoyle statue. He looked at the office building across the street, its offices seemingly lit at random. A few men and women typed at their desks, and a secretary walked out of her office towards the stairs.
He watched for a moment, bemused at their ignorance of the coming chaos, and then clenched both hands together in a twisted, carnal symbol. He muttered a few guttural syllables under his breath, and then it began. Burning coals of anger built up in the pit of his stomach, threatening to burn through him and drop to the ground. Instead, they worked up through his torso and into his arms. They manifested themselves in the palms of his hands. A searing ball of infernal fire formed, and he tensed. His eyes grew red and he raised his hands to eye level. Unleashing a shout of pure fury, the fireball flew from his hands.
Its trail seared across the street, flash-boiling the fog. It hit the building and passed through several walls before exploding. The entire building was quickly aflame. The screams of the employees echoed through out the city as a siren started up somewhere. He smirked again, his breath somewhat ragged from the spell. You do not know the hell you have brought upon yourselves. But you shall soon learn.
He turned from the inferno, and walked across the building. At that moment, the door to the roof was smashed open. Several security guards from the floors below ran out, guns drawn. “Don’t move! We will shoot!” one shouted, gun raised and poised for fight. He said nothing. He looked at them all, for a moment, then continued walking. “This is your last warning! Put your hands up!” another shouted. He ignored them.
A gun was fired. Before Anything else could happen, he rolled and unsheathed the sword strapped to his back. Many guns were firing now. He dodged, weaved, hacked, and slashed his way through the security guards until all but one were slain. The man dropped his gun and held up his hands in a plea for mercy. “How did this happen? Why?” The man said, crying out of fear for his life. “It’s something that you cannot understand,” he replied, and slashed the security guard from groin to chin. The man gargled for a moment, blood bubbling at his throat, then collapsed, dead.
He wiped his sword blade on his cloak and sheathed it. He looked back towards the building, which was a shell of its former self. Many of the top floors had collapsed, and some people were on the sidewalk, fleeing the flame. There was a crunch behind him. He turned and saw the gargantuan shadow that was feasting on the corpses. He walked over and stroked the nose of the beast.
“Soon, my beloved steed,” he murmured. “Soon, all shall know the wrath of Krund!” He leapt onto the back of his steed and it flew into the air, casting its black shadow upon the flames.