Livouf Takar had garnered energy for a week, waiting for this moment.  He
began to chant the ritual words of forming upon the distant, empty,
desert sands.

'Alayeh, mista
 Masanith, tenari
 Begah, kina
 Oleh, arrih.'

The air began to shimmer, and slowly a huge, dark castle formed.  Carved
of solid obsidian, the edges razor sharp and coated in poison, it rose.
Covered in malign, fire spitting gargoyles, massive weapons of war, and
three Lights of Judgement, it formed.

Its massive central spire was formed from the frozen black corpses of the
burned citizens of Jidoor and Doma, the plague-ridden, decaying bodies of
Marandan men and women.  Atop it was a massive skull of an ancient
dragon, its onyx eyes still glowing with evil.  Within the hollow cranium
of the monster's head stood a throne of skulls.  The skulls of children.
The exploits of Amarik Machevi.  The Magi who became Livouf Takar.

The castle was manned with demons from the Other World.  Twisted forms,
shimmering balls of black light, horned humans, and animated corpses.
Here would be his seat of power to look down upon this hated world.  From
that throne, he would burn the world which imprisoned him for over 1000
years.

The castle floated hundreds of feet into the air, powered by dark
spirits, until it could be seen for miles around, a dark blotch in a blue
sky.

"Beware, petty humans of Earth.  Your hour has come."