Well fed, and completely aggrivated, I went to the heart of the city. I'd make them bleed by making it burn... all of it. Every last part of it would be in flames when I was done, everything that they had built, and all that they'd worked for.

I walked at a rapid pace, my hands shoved into my pockets, and glowering at everything from behind strands of sandy hair that fell into my face. Reaching the Prince's favorite haunt, I decided that this would be the first to go. It was a local pub, one of those snazzier places than I hung about in my mortal life, and stock full of my former colliges. I went on in, ignoring the doorman, and simply shoving him aside. I ran to the bar, pulling out a few bottles of whatever liquor was there, and began to hurl them about. A few mortals got smacked with them, and several people were already shouting "Stop him." But I wasn't done, not by far. I drenched the bartop, and simply attacked any who attempted to get in my way. By the time I struck the match there were already seven dead- little mortals who attempted to control me. Idiots...

I tossed the match over my shoulder, sending the place into flames. I was careful to see that it spread, and not to get caught in it myself, and then ran out the back. I didn't doubt that word would wander within a matter of minutes, and I had no intentions of sticking around to see to whom it spread. Besides, I still had several phases of my plan to execute; I couldn't be interrupted so early in the game... My work had only just begun.