drakkvonlego
LoR - Commands
The halls of the temple were filled with the crimson robes of the Order and the dark platemail of Dragon Knights. Every monk bowed in respect to the figure on the throne dominating the far wall, while the knights stood in the alcoves at attention. Drakk, in his dark robes,, sat in pride as he gazed upon his warrior monks. Commander Trask, dressed in the finest of the Queen’s armor and carrying his powerful magic sword, stood near the throne in conversation with Drakk.
“I have spilled much blood in the name of those lost in the purge. And your Queen has paid well. My time on the mainland has been very satisfying.”
“Well I’m glad you're satisfied.” The commander responded. “Meanwhile our Queen barely has any foothold left!”
Anger flashed across Drakk’s face. “Careful Trask. These orders from your Queen state that I now command your soldiers.” A smug look replaced the anger on Drakk’s face. “Another satisfying reward from the Queen.”
“Yes sir,” he replied. A seasoned soldier, Trask respected and obeyed orders.
“That is why I have decided to further commit my forces to her cause. I shall return to the Northland with the Order at my back. The drunken barbarians will fall like saplings before a storm.”
Drakk turned to his zealots, led by the most skilled killer he had ever met (and a close personal friend of course) Solomon the Changeling. These men needed no words of encouragement, no hand holding like the weak mainlanders. Simply an order from their master and they obeyed with silent fervour.
“The time has come. We make for Garheim.”
LoR - Commands
The halls of the temple were filled with the crimson robes of the Order and the dark platemail of Dragon Knights. Every monk bowed in respect to the figure on the throne dominating the far wall, while the knights stood in the alcoves at attention. Drakk, in his dark robes,, sat in pride as he gazed upon his warrior monks. Commander Trask, dressed in the finest of the Queen’s armor and carrying his powerful magic sword, stood near the throne in conversation with Drakk.
“I have spilled much blood in the name of those lost in the purge. And your Queen has paid well. My time on the mainland has been very satisfying.”
“Well I’m glad you're satisfied.” The commander responded. “Meanwhile our Queen barely has any foothold left!”
Anger flashed across Drakk’s face. “Careful Trask. These orders from your Queen state that I now command your soldiers.” A smug look replaced the anger on Drakk’s face. “Another satisfying reward from the Queen.”
“Yes sir,” he replied. A seasoned soldier, Trask respected and obeyed orders.
“That is why I have decided to further commit my forces to her cause. I shall return to the Northland with the Order at my back. The drunken barbarians will fall like saplings before a storm.”
Drakk turned to his zealots, led by the most skilled killer he had ever met (and a close personal friend of course) Solomon the Changeling. These men needed no words of encouragement, no hand holding like the weak mainlanders. Simply an order from their master and they obeyed with silent fervour.
“The time has come. We make for Garheim.”