The Demon King sat on his steed overlooking his forces camped along the plains before him, his brow furrowed and he clutched at his chest, his vision swimming and the face of another from filling his thoughts. He dismounted and walked to the tent that was being set up for him, his aides already inside including his General. “Taginnoth is dead.” He said in a deep gravelly voice, very much different from the one he used to entice the crowd earlier.
“How?” His General replied, unsure how the King could know this.
“One of my other son’s killed him. But not to take over, the child is running scared.” The Demon King explained. “This changes my plans, I can’t rely on them to strike, some are weak and I need strength to hold what we take.”
The General swallowed hard, he knew the order. It would mean the King was sending out his most trusted elements once more. “Summon my Death Knights. I want Castle Blackhill and its surrounding lands converted for war.” The King said, “And find the one that killed my trusted son and end him.” He added, with venom.
