Echoes sounded in the great throne room, thick cob webs draped elegantly from suites of armor long fallen into disrepair their owners once so grand now faded to dust. Tattered banners hung from every arching pillar leading to a black dais upon which sat a throne made of a dark stone its surface carved into the likeness of twining dragons their fangs bared in snarling grimaces their inlaid eyes glittering red. Upon the throne sat a skeletal king his royal head unbowed even in death his sightless gaze peered into eternity. Like a window opening, a breath of air passed from long decayed lips, like a light being turned on, Shadows lengthened their forms melding into the skeletal king folding into one another. His pale bones grew dark like that of the darkened throne, his body became blurred as the shadows inhabited the king’s body then in a shuddering breathe the skeletal king’s chest rose and fell, blue orbs of fire blossomed into the dead kings eyes burning an ethereal blue, the skeletal king rose his bones clacking together as he moved for the first time in a millennia, he stood beneath a ray of pale moonlight as flesh melded itself onto his bones, the king spoke his voice rumbling with dark promise“Rise my knights, follow me, once more, for the time of awakening has come our Lord has called us to make war upon this weak world all hail the dead God.” The silent coats of armor turned falling to their knees in prostration. As one a multitude of voices echoed the kings proclamation “all hail the dead God!!” The remade king stood before his assembled troops “go now and raise your brethren, for all the demons of this world shall hear their kings cry and rise up to take this world for their own.” In a thunderous racket the dead knights rose their armor clanking against itself. As the knights filed from the throne room the king turned to the throne glowed an evanescent blue reflecting the flames in the dead kings eyes. The shadow king brushed his fingers across the cold surface tracing the runes inlaid upon its arms, in loud voice the king called forth his blade its steel running liquid as he grasped its hilt he spoke a word of power and the blade turned frosty white emanating power, the king smiled a chilling smile as he whispered his blades name “Drethral” the blade shimmered in his hand as if in response to its masters summons, the king sat upon his throne staring out at his kingdom of shadows “so it begins, come to me oh Servants and let us dance once more for our puppet masters.” A thinly grotesque smile flickered across the Dead kings pale lips. As the echoes reverberated through the great throne room, the darkness seemed to thicken and the air grew colder. The cobwebs draped elegantly from the fallen suits of armor, and the tattered banners hung limply from the arching pillars, giving the space a haunting and eerie feel.But as the shadows lengthened and the skeletal king rose, there was a sense of anticipation, a sense of dark promise in the air. The dead king’s voice rumbled with power, and the blue orbs of fire that blazed in his eyes burned with an ethereal intensity.As he spoke, his words carried a sense of authority, a sense of power that could not be ignored. And as his knights rose and fell to their knees in prostration, the world seemed to shift, as though something dark and sinister had been unleashed.The king’s blade, Drethral, shimmered in his hand, emanating a frosty white light that reflected the flames in his eyes. And as he sat upon his throne, surveying his kingdom of shadows, there was a sense of malevolence in his smile.The dead king knew that the time of awakening had come, and he was ready to make war upon the weak world that lay before him. He would call forth his army of the undead, and they would rise up to take this world for their own.There was a sense of both fear and excitement in the air, as though the world was on the cusp of something great and terrible. The dead king’s words echoed in the minds of his followers, promising power and glory, but also darkness and death.And so, as the king sat upon his throne, Drethral gleaming in his hand, there was a sense of anticipation, a sense of waiting for what was to come. The world would never be the same, and the darkness that had been unleashed would never be contained.As the dead king sat upon his throne, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames, there was a sense of something dark and powerful building within him. The world around him seemed to shrink away, and he was left alone with his thoughts and his memories.He remembered a time long ago, when he had been a living king, ruling over a vast and powerful kingdom. But that time was gone now, replaced by something new and terrible.The dead king felt a sense of regret, a sense of sadness at what he had become. He had once been a man, with hopes and dreams and ambitions. But now he was nothing more than a puppet of the dark gods, a servant of their will.But even as he felt the weight of his past, the dead king also felt a sense of determination. He knew that he had a duty to fulfill, a purpose to serve. He would lead his army of the undead, and they would conquer the world in the name of the dead gods. And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of duty, the dead king rose from his throne, Drethral clutched in his hand. He stepped out of the throne room, into the darkness of his kingdom of shadows, and raised his voice in a powerful summons.The dead rose from their graves, their bones rattling as they shambled forward to join their king. They were the army of the undead, the servants of the dark gods, and they would do whatever it takes to conquer the world.As they marched forward, their footsteps echoing in the silence, the dead king felt a sense of both pride and despair. He had become something terrible, something beyond redemption. But he was also a king, a leader of his people, and he would do whatever it takes to serve their will.And so, with a heavy heart and a determined spirit, the dead king led his army of the undead forward, towards a future that was both glorious and terrible.The army of the undead marched forward, their footsteps echoing through the darkness as they moved towards their ultimate goal. The dead king led them, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination, his sword Drethral held high.As they walked, the king felt a sense of both excitement and dread. He knew that what lay ahead would be a challenge unlike any other, a battle that would test his army’s strength and resolve to the limit.But he was ready. He had spent centuries preparing for this moment, gathering his army and honing their skills. He had sacrificed much to get here, and he was not about to let it all go to waste.The dead king’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of battle. His army had encountered resistance, and the king knew that he must act quickly if he was to turn the tide in his favor.With a roar, the king charged forward, Drethral flashing in the darkness as he cut through the enemy ranks. His army followed him, their bones rattling as they swung their weapons and unleashed their dark powers upon their foes.The battle was fierce and brutal, with both sides fighting with all their might. But the dead king and his army were determined, fueled by their desire to serve their dark gods and claim victory over their enemies.And in the end, it was the army of the undead that emerged victorious. The enemy fell before them, their bodies broken and their spirits shattered.As the dead king surveyed the battlefield, he felt a sense of both satisfaction and sadness. He had won the battle, but at what cost? The world was now a darker and more dangerous place, and the dead king knew that there would be more battles to come.But he also knew that he had a duty to fulfill, a purpose to serve. He would lead his army of the undead, and they would conquer the world in the name of the dead gods.forward, his army following in his wake. They had won the battle, but the war was far from over.The dead king knew that there were still those who would oppose him, those who would fight against his army of the undead. But he was not afraid. He had already faced many challenges, and he was ready for whatever lay ahead.As they marched, the dead king felt a sense of both dread and excitement. He knew that what lay ahead would be difficult, but he was determined to see it through. He would conquer this world, and he would do it in the name of his dark gods.And so, with a heavy heart and a fierce determination, the dead king led his army of the undead forward, towards a future that was both glorious and terrifying. The world would never be the same, and the darkness that had been unleashed would never be contained.But the dead king did not care. He was a servant of the dark gods, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty. The world would tremble at his feet, and the dead would rise to do his bidding. The dead king marched forward, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. He was a servant of the dark gods, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty.As he moved forward, his army of the undead following in his wake, the dead king felt a sense of both power and despair. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, that he was leading his army down a dark and dangerous path.But he did not care. He had been chosen by the dark gods, and he would serve them until the end of time. The world would tremble at his feet, and the dead would rise to do his bidding.The dead king’s heart was heavy with the weight of his duty. He had sacrificed much to get here, and he knew that there would be many more sacrifices to come.But he was not afraid. He was a king, a leader of his people, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty.As he moved forward, the dead king felt a sense of both anticipation and dread. He knew that the world would never be the same, that the darkness that he had unleashed would never be contained.But he did not care. He was a servant of the dark gods, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty.And so, with a heavy heart and a fierce determination, the dead king marched forward, towards a future that was both glorious and terrifying. The world would tremble at his feet, and the dead would rise to do his bidding.And in the end, there would be only darkness. The dead king knew this, but he did not care. He was a servant of the dark gods, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty. In the end, there would be only darkness.

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