The King's metal sabatons clanked against the ancient stone floor of the great hall. The ambient smelled of pipe smoke and dank firewood. The once great war room had fallen to crumbling ruins thanks to the war. Not a single chiseler nor mason in the land remained in the realm of the living to repair the great columns which had fallen to ruin years ago.
Tension hung in the air as the last rulers of the unconquered world sat, staring at each other, conversing only when necessary. Some looked at old enemies, others at new allies, all of them united under a common banner to face a common foe.
"You are late, Leon." Piped up a low voice from amongst the crowd, huddled around the stone sand table.
"My apologies, Grand Duke Darby," Replied the King, as he approached the table. "Delays tend to happen when one's entire escort is torn to shreds."
Some other voices grumbled and fussed at Leon's retort as many eyes returned to the sand table. A bit of bickering began to break out at the far reaches of the table. Someone's sword began to slip from their scabbard.
A previously silence leader stood up from one of the stone seats with a loud scrape, breaking the tension. "Majesties, if I may continue before even more of our forces are squashed? May I remind all parties here present that we are all allies until this all blows over, whether we enjoy so or not."
"And what do you bring to this flimsy alliance, King Edward of Yoran? A hundred- nay, a dozen or so men?" Blasted back Darby, gripping onto the sand table as he jolted out to meet Edward's gaze. "Your capital was completely sacked less than a month ago! The last of your old guard were practically demolished while trying to bolster the city gate, were they not? The travellers even tell you died!"
"Perhaps that is true," He said, shooting him a glance that could kill a man. "But I am not the coward which abandoned the bulk of his peasantry in a trading city to be burned alive whilst he fled. Can you say the same, 'Duke' Darby?"
"You question my position, Yoranian?"
"I question nothing, for you are certainly Grand Duke Darby.."
He sat back down with his finishing words and a long smirk across his face. "...of Nothing."
"Insolet swineherd! You forget your place, Yoranian varlot!"
The Duke paced towards the far ends of the room, towards a withered throne of stone at the very end of the war room.
"I have more than a dozen cohorts of the best trained men-at-arms in the world at my fingertips. I could have every last King, Duke, Lord, Count, Sultan, Chief, and Archon in this hall killed in a matter of minutes. Every last one of you; all beneath the boot of my Dutchy. All beneath me."
And at that moment, he did that which no man in their right mind would have ever done: he sat on the stone throne.
For a moment there was awe. A sense of surrealness was felt by every ruler in the room.
And then a voice boomed far from the sand table, a lone figure that cast a long shadow over the rulers long enough:
"YOU DARE?"
A figure emerged from the shadows; a massive hulk of a man, clad in dented and worn steel armor, measuring nearly half as tall as the columns of the room. A single green eye and an eyepatch stared a sour look at Darby. Scraping at his feet, a longsword nearly as big as a man.
"In all of my six hundred and twenty two years of existence, never have I met a man as unworthy as you to lead." He said as he pierced his sword into the stone floor in front of Darby, cutting it through like butter. "And yet YOU of all here present, decide to desecrate what was once his with your vile nature?"
Leon held a gentle hand to his shoulder. "Felix.."
The enraged Prince looked down at the outsider King with his single eye, and with a tame hand pushed him aside.
"As for the rest of you; for shame." He spat bitterly. "The forces of the side world tear apart through us all like wolf to sheep, and you all squabble as hens to a fistful of feed? For shame, indeed!"
With a single strong hand, he then grabbed Darby by the head and tossed him, sending him hurling against the sand table. "Twelve cohorts, a hundred cohorts! No matter the men, you are no Emperor!"
The rulers stood there silent, their heads hung low in dissapointment. The only sound that could be heard was Darby attempting to shake off sand and Edward scratch his eye. Leon and Edward stood firm as they observed Felix gently polish the throne with part of his gamberson before standing next to it, his head hung high and duty-bound.
There was a small rumble outside, shaking the ceiling of the room before it ceased as soon as it started.
"So what is our plan?" Asked a ruler.
Felix fixed himself in a more comfortable manner, sitting down next to the throne. "Hmm. No men. No territory. No weapons. No supplies... and no other choice."
He dug into the pockets beneath his loose plate armor, pulling out a small cylinder of green powder.
"This, here, is our final resort."
The rulers looked up. "Is that..?"
"Yes. Chronolapillus. The only pillula of its properties in existence." He said, holding it up ever so gently. "There is just enough to send one of us back... back before the war."
"How far back?" Piped up one.
"Its unknown. It could be a couple of minutes..it could be centuries." He said quietly as he gently placed the cylinder on a armrest of the throne. "We must choose a man among us."
"Well it can't be you!" Announced the Duke. "We know you! You'll simply try to save your father and leave us all to die!"
"Well, if we're pointing out faults, you couldn't hit the side of a castle with your sword, Darby of Nothing." Replied the Prince, sending the Duke slunking back into his seat. "Anyone else?"
"If I may, your grace," Answered Leon, "King Edward could easily handle the diplomatics of it, and perhaps even prevent the division."
The rulers seemed to all collectively nod in agreement at the prospect.
"Ah, you flatter me, Leon." Responded Edward, giving him a pat on the back. "It shall be me then."
"Very well.." Acknowledged Felix, as he picked up the small capsule and begun to stretch his gauntlet, when a voice interrupted.
"HALT! " Boomed Darby, sword drawn. The rulers responded with their own armaments.
"Traitor!" He yelled as he sliced Edwards back, before he himself was cut to ribbons by the hall of rulers. Leon could only stand by horrified as Felix retreated to defend the pillula.
As the allies begun to sheath their arms, wondering what had taken over the man in a mix of confusion and anger, there was a final whisper from Darby;
"Look. Look you fools."
In utter amazement, the body of Edward begun to dissolve into a mess of tar and bones, tainting the until then pure hall.
"A mummer!"
"But how?! How did we not notice?!"
"Dirty spy!"
Felix's eyes widened at the horrid realization. "They know!"
There was a sudden loud bash as the great stone gates were turned to sand by their majikmen, and the guards at the gates were squashed by golems and torn to ribbons by the other horrid troupe of abominations.
There was not a seconds hesitation as Felix did what had to be done.
He tossed the pillula to Leon.
Instantly and against his own will, he was enveloped in a cloud of geen dust as the cylinder shattered against his forehead. The King then dissapeared from the doomed hall as the rulers fell one by one.
Felix raised his sword as he charged into the fray.
