From the darkness beneath his cloak he watched them. All of them, running futile errands, basking in their self-absorbed greatness, failing with their every waking breath.
He looked to the skies and almost laughed, his hatred was great and the suffering he will inflict will be greater yet. There was still much to do, many things to adapt to and keep an eye on. One wrong move could ruin centuries of planning. A smile crawled across his face like a fat worm. He relished this, getting his hands dirty, feeling the sense of danger, the fear of his prey, he lived for it, needed it. It would almost be disappointing when it all ended, almost.
His eyes refocused on the goal at hand as he regained his composure and gazed at the helpless adventurers who had no clue what they had stumbled into.