On the hill just below the cottage of Damocles Belby, the descending mist hovers in between existence and not as spirit-like wisps that hauntingly begin to appear across the surrounding grounds. The Death Eaters stand in a circle with a single lantern set on the ground chasing away the darkness of the night. A burly, Death Eater folds his bulging arms over his chest and observes their surroundings. "I say, it's a trap. The night's too quiet," Seth grunted warily. "I bet that Auror's are lying in wait just yonder over in the woods," with an added emphasis by tilting his head pointedly in the direction of the woods.
A rugged, domineering featured, stout wizard snorts at Seth's words. Not as tall as his deceased brother Corban had been, but just as pale, Darith Yaxley pulls himself to his full height and stares down arrogantly at the burly wizard. "There are no Auror's present," Darith Yaxley conceitedly retorted. "Master's spy has confirmed that is indeed the case or do you question our master's wisdom?" Darith threatened as his blond hair pulled into a short ponytail shook at his rapid head movement as he leaned forward to a menacing glare down at the other wizard.
The burly, Death Eater grimaces, but Seth does not speak causing Darith Yaxley to drawback with a prideful sneer. Darith Yaxely opens his mouth to further humiliate Seth, when a tall wizard with a pointy chin and angry look brows murmurs, "Master is here."
Darith Yaxley bites back his tongue and withholds from speaking, while Seth nods his head with appreciativeness at Devante Nott. Devante Nott was not a nice man nor a very cunning wizard. But he was useful despite his perversions of dallying with younger witches of age including MUGGLE girls.
(And the sole reason as to why none of the purebloods had yet to betroth and wed any of their daughters to him. It was not that those that were inclined to selling off their daughters for wealth had suddenly grown a conscience, but rather the scandal of his open vile perversion known to all polite wizarding society or even worse a muggleborn bastard?! No, no, the public humiliation would be simply unbearable, they would never live it down! As such, not even the most terrible of pureblood families were not desperate enough to marry their daughters off to such a deviant wizard.)
The Death Eaters present fall silent as Lord Voldemort sweeps toward them with his now-familiar companion slithering at his side, Nagini. The rustle of more than a few robes is heard as Death Eaters step back or stifle a shudder at the appearance of the poisonous serpent that is as thick as a man's thigh.
Nagini's tongue flickers as she tastes the air and finds the scent of anxiousness and fear from the two-legged magical humans. "Weaklings," she hummed to her kin.
"Yes," Voldemort murmured to the serpent with a barely suppressed gleam of pleasure visibly seen in the depths of his crimson eyes. "They are all weaker than I." Nagini hissed with pride and a hint of smugness causing more than one Death Eater to shiver at the uncanny sound.
Voldemort comes to a halt in their midst with Nagini curling around his feet, her tongue flickering while her bright serpent eyes study the magical humans before her. Witches and Wizards, they were called. But she could not recall just how she knew that; she just simply knew. However, a part of whispered at her to remember, but she shoved those feelings aside. She had failed her kin before with the plump witch that looked and smelled of tasty frogs. She would not do so again for she could not bear to lose another, she simply could not. And though she did not know the reason as to why, she knew in her hearts of hearts that was the truth, and that was more than enough for her.
Voldemort's crimson serpent eyes roam over the crowd causing the weaker Death Eaters to hastily look away and bow, while those stronger did not meet fully meet his gaze. Among those are that of Gibbon, the widow Empusa Snyde, the scarred visage of McCann, and a surprising new member brought into the fold, and the yet-to-be-initiated, Damian Mulciber. The golden-haired handsome youth greatly resembled his father both in appearance and in cruelty.
Voldemort nods in approval as the golden-haired youth bows deeply, before Voldemort turns his gaze away and his eyes turn to his two most powerful Death Eaters, Antonin Dolohov, and Rodolophus Lestrange. Rodolophus Lestrange is the more demure out of the two as he at least bows his head to him, while Antonin Dolohov performs no such courtesy, and coldly gazes back at Voldemort.
Turning his gaze back to the shuffling Death Eaters like errant schoolchildren, Voldemort addresses his followers. "Tonight, on the night of the new moon, and with Hallows Eve nearly upon us, we gather together to consecrate this unholy night. We shall begin and announce our glorious reign with the destruction of Damocles Belby," he announced. "It is only the first step of many, but it is our glorious declaration of war against the Ministry of Magic and all those who oppose our righteous cause. We will right the wrongs doings that have been committed against wizarding society by the incompetent Ministry of Magic, and we will assure in the dawning of a new era led by those of us that possess the right to rule by the purity of blood."
The Death Eaters refrain from loudly cheering, but their expressions are entranced with awe and self-righteousness at Lord Voldemort's speech. In their minds, they sincerely agreed with that statement. They had been taught all their lives that it was their right to rule from birth for they were the select few, they were purebloods. They were of superior quality and completely different breed when in comparison to the filthy mudbloods. The mere thought of a pureblood witch lying with a filthy mudblood or even worse, a MUGGLE which offensive at the mere thought filled their mouths with bile. No, they must take action this very night to preserve the purity of their lineages!
Tragically, what many forget including those that followed him is that Lord Voldemort was a wizard, who had charmed all of Hogwarts including the purebloods in his house, and had swayed entire generations of purebloods to follow him. And even without his handsome looks, he is not without his persuasive charms. A cruel, evil wizard, a madman even, but power draws out the worst of humanity. And like moths to a flame, those hungering for power surrounded him even if they perished in the attempt much as did Icarus, who flew too close to the sun.