He’d not succeeded that night, but he was no fool. He knew what he was up against in the old woman. There were many others not as strong, who would easily succumb to his promises and they were not so far away. The birdsong irritated him; the light slanting through the trees blinded him. He’d rest now and allow those of his legions who worked by day to do his bidding. He belonged to the night and would need to gather strength for the task ahead. For he was about to do something he’d not done in centuries; he was about to take on human form.
Death Cry, The Dark One