-Satyrquaze's personal lab, unknown location, somewhere underground-
The air was musty with the dust of old books and candle wax. It was well past 03:00 as the pan-like creature went over his notes again for the seventh time. Rage crossed his face as he slammed his fist down upon an ancient oak desk and shattered it into chips and flinders.
He swore a dozen curses in long dead languages as his wrist-bracelets began to glow. He instinctively sought to regain his composure as millennia of using the alien bands had taught him.
When he was finally comfortable with his level of control he picked up his notes and several old tomes from the floor. His mind reeled at the possibilities:
Impossible, no one has seen another satyr in over two decades and I've been wasting my time fighting other people's battles. I'm probably the oldest creature alive and here I have been until just recently part of the common rank-and-file of the Vine Villains. I have wasted my time. Have I allowed my race to go extinct? What if I am the last of my kind?
He squatted down on his haunches, staring at the scattered wood splinters his ancient eyes fell upon an open book. On its old pages it depicted a colossal tree which supports the heavens, thereby connecting the heavens, the earth, and, through its roots, the underground… The World Tree. The creature's eyes flashed as they read one phrase:
For the first time in several hours the Satyr-creature let out a terrible laughter which almost seemed to shake the very earth under him.