In the gloomy hall of a private chamber in castle Plaphorius, Titanis Clore lay on a red silk cushion surrounded by four stunning female vampires whose faces flickered in the candlelight. The beauties engaged in the most passionate love, their caresses exciting both Titanis and themselves. Their bare skin was ghostly white, and though they were wrapped in a rapturous embrace, their intertwined limbs brought them no warmth at all. Warmth was not what they sought, however, and their nuzzling soon turned into blood lust. In their excitement, they grew fangs and their eyes flushed crimson. Titanis was enamored, wrapped in bodies, but as he laid another kiss on the amber beauty by his side, he was suddenly hit with a vision; he saw in his mind the death of Jengon Crump.
He felt a surge of uneasy anger flood through him. He knew this was the great Makoor's way of summoning him to appear before him, so he pulled away from the kiss and got to his feet. "The master is calling me," said Titanis. "I must go at once." The women pleaded with him to stay, but Titanis pushed their hungry faces away. "There is no time for this anymore! The master requests my presence!".
Outside, he took the pathway that led to the river. Bobbing gently in the night air was a waiting vessel bound for Mount Drone. On the boat were a number of Droge creatures that chattered with one another, dangling their legs over the edge of the vessel. With oars in hand, they awaited their commands from the senior Drogust, who strode around with a whip in hand, knowing the ridiculous Droges would slack off if not prodded and beaten. Since the Droges were notoriously lazy, they often "forgot" to show up for work. The Drogusts would break a Droge's knees if he didn't arrive to work, which may have explained why the Droges lounged about in trees, pulling themselves around with their arms, feeding off roots and fallen branches. For sport, they poked one another's blistered bottoms with splinters. To keep their teeth sharpened, they gnawed on tree stumps, shaving them down in parts so that it appeared to be the work of termites. Titanis Clore stepped into the boat and took a seat in the middle. The Droges tittered, their hot eyes glinting madly in the light. They knew not to approach Titanis or any vampire. They paddled the boat along the quiet channel. The still waters were dark, but the moon and torches gave off sufficient light. The Droges were sluggish, but they rowed. The first to grow tired would be thrown overboard. And there was nothing more terrifying to a Droge than water. Their kind could not swim and sank like stones. Indeed, if they looked over the side, they might see one of their own, face down in the water. "Paddle faster!" Titanis shouted to no effect.
The commanding Drogust snapped his whip in the air. "Stop your rowing!" he growled. "You!" He pointed to the nearest Droge. "That's it for you." He lifted the creature by the neck and flung him into the water. The Droges watched him squealing, struggling to stay afloat.
"Now move your lazy asses!" yelled the Drogust. The boat began to cut through the water more quickly. Titanis Clore said nothing. He was filled with sorrow over the loss of his companion, Jengon Crump. He looked to the moon and felt a chill fall over him. He would have to face the great Makoor. The ship entered the channel where waters flowed from the great mountain. The cave walls were ablaze with torches; their glow flickered over the lithe waves. They rowed through a narrow passageway that led directly into the heart of the mountain. The water was speckled with the pale fur of Droge corpses, more and more as they neared the mountain. The creatures joined in an eerie symphony of twittering noises as they grew closer. "That's enough out of you," yelled the Drogust. All the little bulbous eyes turned on him and for the moment the Droges were unusually silent.