"Report." A voice booms across a large throne room.
"One of them has died." A metallic voice says. He looks up. A mask made of metal. Eyes resembling those of winged eyeliner. "My Lord."
The booming voice laughed. "Good. Soon I'll be able to fly the skies once more." He says flapping his large wings.
"Anything else, my liege?"
"Yes, actually." He said getting up from his throne. "I grow impatient of your 'skill'. I recruited you because I felt you knew what you were doing." His black scales shimmered in the golden light of the torches.
"With all due respect, I do." The kneeling figure stands up, his hands behind his back and his back straight.
The Black Dragon lunges at him ending up a few feet in front of him. "Then why are they all alive?! You really are as pathetic as I thought you are. Just like the rest of your village." He said turning away from him. "Go now. Be faster. As far I I'm aware they have everything they need to make the arrows. And if you appreciate living, avoid The Green Dragon. She's too on love with herself."
"Yes, my Lord." The smaller figure bowed and vanished suddenly.
