Role

Chapter 3

Amidst Urog's decent into senility and obscurity, he has uncovered a plot
against him. In his younger days he would have noticed such an act almost
instantly, but this day it was the incompetence of his Council that gave them
away:

It was dusk within the Palace, and the aging Emperor's eyelids hung heavily
as battle plans were detailed for raiding the Fortress of Light. His eyes
scanned the crowded Throne Room dismally, gazing over the Shadow Lord, Shanta,
the newly-named High Priest, Izuaki, the War Master, Ceiekelak, and the Dread
Lord pro tempore, Teranoth. Before him and his council stood legions of
armed men and women, Oathed men and women ready to give their lives for his
cause. As the plans droned on and the Emperor fell in and out of sleep, he
was jostled awake by a sharp, tingling pain along his right arm. His tattoo
had begun to flare and he snapped back to awareness quickly. So quickly that
he just barely noticed the Shadow Lord placing a scroll into the hands of a
cloaked messenger who promptly slinked away. Sensing dissent, he excused
himself promptly and began stalking the cloaked figure.

The trail did not last long. He found the messenger huddled asleep before the
gates of Asgaard. A swift spike-toed kick to the face ensured that none this
messenger would not be returning to the Shadow Lord, and a precursory search
showed the Emperor what he had expected to see: a plot to be overthrown.
Urog rose with a snarl, and snuck back into the Palace clutching a bloody
straight razor named 'Answer to Dissent.'

Chapter 1: The Shadow Lord's Humiliation.

A faint buzzing from a nearby nest droned through the chasm of the tiny throne
room. Below the throne led a black marble staircase into a chamber of catacombs
of the great Hornet, Khasotholas. Knelt before the staircase, deep in prayer,
the Shadow Lord flinched suddenly as a large, chainmail-clad gauntlet was
placed on her shoulder.

"We's need ta talk."

"Can it wait? I'm praying to my Lord" replied the indignant Shadow Lord.

The Emperor trudged forward without so much as a glance and knelt next to
Shanta in prayer.

"Fine. We's pray first. Great Lord Khasot'olas, grant Me the strength ta judge
this 'ere wort'less no-good back-stabbin' surface wretch o' a wench." came the
tired, heavy drawl of the thief.

The Shadow Lord jumped to her feet in surprise, wide-eyed with her mouth
hanging as she uttered a single, pained whimper in protest. The realization
of what had occured dawned on her then and there, as had the sensation of pain
from deep inside her back.

Urog retracted a bloody straight razor named 'Answer to Dissent' with satisfaction.
"One down. T'ree ta go."