Inside the mind

A lord of death and darkness sits at his ornate oak desk of death.

"Still, we have failed. When will it come? Will it come? Are we cursed forever? TELL ME! TELL ME!"

The old shadowpriest stamps his fists at his desk uncrontrotably. He looks around, eyes of hatred and hunger.

"WILL WE HAVE TO TAKE IT ALL!?"

He grasps his wine glass, looking around, extreme with caution. His eyes a mixture of fear and anger. he lowers his gaze to the works of surounding servants.

He hides his face in his palms in the darkness of his study.

"What will come forth?" Glancing around.

He consumes an idea.

"And so it shall."

He trials off in endless thoughts.

In the flying Necropolis of Zeramas:Windrunner Hold, three chained Forsaken are seen waiting for trial. One of them, a plated armor warrior wanders off into the limits of his confinement. restless.

Thoughs haunt his used to servitude mind, in a desperate spiral of confusion and resolutions.

"Blasphemy...

three of the most loyal men the Royal House has ever had, accused of treachery by the real traitor...

i shall go down in a blaze for my allegiance if i have to, and protect her Majesty until the very end...

executed i might be, but...

I shall have the traitor's head before the end... "

((


And somewhere, Mona is chanting...
"Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn..."

- Sorry...I had to...))