A shadowy figure sat perched upon his throne. The room dark and smoky from the power practically dripping off of his forearms. His eyes glazed over from years of mindless slaughter. Images danced before him of the piles of broken bodies he had flung to the side as he progressed closer towards his goal. Each of their faces flashed before him as that lasting image, their minds flayed into oblivion.
"SIR, THE PLATE ONES APPROACH!" a voice called out.
"Thank you, minion, please turn your caps lock off now and only speak to me through /w. My, it is hard to find good NPCs these days," The Shadow uttered.
Outside of his chambers the distinct sound of metal shuffling and scraping against itself was increasing. The ground began to tremble as thousands of pounds worth of metal encased meat approached. The faces of the meat sullen and scarred from countless beatings endured. They held their weapons at their sides and ready, although they prayed they wouldn't be asked to draw them. Once they reached the courtyard they spread out in a semi-circle and all descended to their knees in front of the door.
A rustle arose from behind them. A last scrape of metal and their leader stepped from around the corner. He shouted, "I am Arthur, emissary for the Lord of Tanks. I would request you open the gates, I have a message for him!"
"Message for who?" called a voice from the one of the guard towers.
"What?" Arthur replied
"I think hes talking about HIM," came a voice from the other tower.
"I didn't ask you to think did I? I asked him who his message was for," Came the first guard.
"Well you don't have to get all fussed up about it, I'm merely trying to speed things up that's all."
"Um, excuse me." Arthur attempted a word.
"Oh, you mean just like you did the last time? The time when we all ended up in forced silence for a week? You thought that would probably be better did you?" the guard continued unphased by Arthur's interruption.
"I say! You told me that was probably a good idea before I tried it anyway and I remember enjoying the silence anyway," came the reply.
"Excuse me!"
"Well that is the last time I try to be supportive of your ideas."
"Supportive? You usually kick me quite harshly every time I even bring up any of my ideas."
"That's because I hate you"
"SILENCE!!" The roar of The Shadow's voice enough to shake the courtyard and everyone inside it to the core. "I thought our last discussion was enough, but I guess you will be returning to Furblog Camp for Manners."
"Sir is that you?" called Arthur hesitantly.
The doors to the sanctuary then began to open slowly, smoke flowing out over the courtyard and between the array of tanks. Emitting from the smoke was the stench of truth and fear, and as it surrounded the small troop it created beams of light through the cracks in the trees above them. A figure began to emerge from the black depths of the room beyond. The eyes first, glowing in the room like two stars shining in the night. These stars did not comfort though, the glare from these stars revealed the true darkness in one's soul. To look into them meant seeing the evil in one's self. Only one person had stared into these stars of darkness and remained unwavering, but that person was not Arthur.
"I am sorry to disturb you Sir, but My lord requests you join him for a round table in the main barracks." Arthur began. "Also he asked if you might come prepared to... Heal" The last word spoken with a hesitation of a man who knew its true repercussions.
The stars flared in the darkness as the Shadow drifted into the courtyard. His feet obscured by the smoke that poured from his robes. His robes hid what existed of his body, but they seemed to be sewn with the same dark thread that even his skin was created with. He was practically transparent, his figure seeming to drift between this reality and another. His breath condensing in air like a cold winter night he carefully uttered "What?"
As The Shadow enunciated the T erupted with power. In the minds of those present it was as if an explosion had detonated. Arthur saw each of his men flinch in unmistakable fear. Arthur spoke up, trying to seemed unshaken, "He said you should prepare for that possibility," a sharp flash from The Shadow's eyes, "Sir," Arthur quickly added.
After a few moments had passed, what seemed like hours to Arthur's entourage, The Shadow finally replied, "Interesting," and turned towards the depths of his antechamber. As the doors began to seal behind him he hissed his message. "Tell him TheKunkel shall attend."