The warships had surprisingly halted just beyond the range of the allied artillery. The largest of them, glowing faintly in the twilight with a sinister feel, drifted to the forefront. From its lower deck, a smaller vessel descended, carrying a single figure.
The envoy was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and metal. Its hollow eyes glowed with an unnatural light, missing a nose even with all its flesh, and its voice, amplified by some unseen mechanism, carried across the battlefield.
"You stand against the will of the supreme Lord Mortis," the envoy intoned. "Your resistance is futile. Surrender now, and you may yet be used for something better."
Some of the allied leaders exchanged glances, the tension thick as the envoy's words hung in the air. King Aldric stepped forward, his massive frame exuding defiance, his every movement brimming with raw power.
"Surrender?" Aldric repeated, his voice laced with disdain. "He dares demand surrender from us?"
