[WP] "Lord of Darkness, King of Death. It's strange to be defied, when you have control over the demise of your subjects."

...

From the great throne of stone slabs, Rodrick of the Blackened Sword sat in total stillness beneath the glow of the great portal that rose behind him. A brilliant shade of white etched about the great rounded borders, displaying foreign lands and distant impossible places; each one shadowed and glimmered along that massive expanse. It was as if there stood a great doorway, long since made impassable behind layered protections and seals of magic barely visible to the eyes.

For all those who came atop the many steps of the Eastern Tower and witnessed this scene, many figures might let awe overtake them to bow at Rodrick's feet. His powerful form radiated intense strength, his armor seemed to suck the very life from the air around him, and his gaze could cower any unfortunate enough to fall beneath it. Some foolish and rare few might even think the man within this great Black Armor a King: An Emperor. Those of ambition and ignorance might even mistake him for the Lord of Darkness himself: The Great Immortal Mage.

Beyond his inability to die, however, Rodrick was none of those things.

Not a King, not a Lord, not capable of controlling the vast powers of reality and mana upon his will. He was nothing more than a fading soul and a traitor. He did not sit upon the throne as a true King might, to watch over his lands and kingdom.

He sat upon this throne solely because of the horrible glowing gateway which rose up behind it. A gatekeeper, doomed to a more terrible fate than death itself for his own transgressions.

"Hello again, Rodrick."

The voice spoke, cruel and filled with malice as it reached out to the mind before it, unhindered by the absence of sound. Words, should they even be considered such, pulsed like blood in his skull- pressure building where a heart had long since ceased its activities.

"My Lord." Rodrick's voice rasped out aloud to the empty room, speech pried from lungs that sounded as if they'd long since been filled with broken glass, and dust. "It has been some time since you've spoken."

"Time passes strangely in this place... these places." The portal seemed to shimmer, then fade. As if force and powers stirred deep beneath its surface, and the images shown were nothing more than the reflection of a mirror's edge. "But I grow closer to discerning its secrets, second by second."

"There are no doubts in my mind." Rodrick murmured agreement, but he did not rise, nor turn his helm to watch the cast ripples along the great expanse behind him. In his bones, he could feel the truth, and he knew this was not the time in which he awaited. Instead, his gaze followed the reflections passed along the polished floor, runes that lurked upon such stone almost seeming to drink the light in, hungrily gnawing at the ethereal substance it cast. "Have you a request for me?"

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"A request, you ask?" The seizing fit of rage throbbed in the far distant corners of Rodrick's mind, a reaction and temper held at bay only by immeasurably distance and uncounted layers of defense. "No request today my humble slave, only a promise. Same as always."

"So you say, my lord."

The silence stretched, distant and powerful force of anger fading into the ever-stretching realm of the portal's glow. Somehow, despite all the mages still beneath Rodrick's control within the Spire, their promises and careful work: The man seemed to grow closer by the day. Sometimes by the hour.

"Tell me, Rodrick. What has become of the armies?" The anger faded to curiosity, a pondering series of thoughts not quite conveyed to Rodrick's mind, but intentions passed along all the same as they continued. "I remember gathering their excess, those Orcish hordes and the Goblin clans to repel the next Eastern crusade. I find myself wondering what has become of them."

"Of both the Southern and Northern forces, they have all been repelled my lord. Heavy losses are recorded on both sides." He could do little to hide the truth from the force which seeked it, but Rodrick held his tongue until the last instant- in which his mind itself might break against the demand that pressed it. "The Doterra's Holy Armies approach further by the day, despite their casualties."

"Hmm..." The voice paused, considering. "Your doing, I suppose? Setting my mighty empire to ruin with what little freedom you've been given in my absence? It is a simple matter to rebuild such trivialities."

"No, my Lord. The Ancient Dragon has shown himself, rallied Eastern Armies in your... travels." Rodrick's hollow words floated and echoed amidst the stone and glass around him, empty room of tower settled to a dim quiet. Not even the great winds of such height could slip their way inside. "With that strength assisting them, Doterra's warriors are more powerful than even you might have imagined."

"Somehow, I doubt that." The voice almost seemed to growl, vibrations of displeasure rattling withing Rodrick's mind. "You on the other hand... As one long since fabled to be a Lord of Darkness, a King of Death... It's strange to be defied by one such as yourself Rodrick. A simple warrior, a long since fallen foe turned slave... Perhaps I should have expected it. Most undead lose every trace of their free-will by the second century in my service. You've clung on much longer than most."

"I have no illusions to the consequences, my Lord." Rodrick replied, his armor and body still upon the great stone seat. "This is but a failure that has not yet ended, only prolonged."

"Ah... then you do understand. Truly, did you really believe that you could kill me? That the little Mage who threw me here might actually have done the deep himself?" The voice seemed to laugh, cackling like lightning strikes in a far-off storm. "I would have expected you, of all those who serve me, to know better."

"The opportunity was one that might only come once in a lifetime." The silence stretched, "A very long lifetime."

"Remember my promise Rodrick." The sensation of the pressing mind seemed to draw off, fading into yet another far-off and distant place beyond the veil. Rodrick listened to the odd murmurings of magics and powers beyond his control as they passed along the link which held him. The very same that fixed his soul to this horrid and undying flesh and armor against the tests of time. Still, the distant voice echoed there, slipping farther and farther along into the twilight of nothing and everything- of worlds and planes beyond ordinary comprehension.

"Remember that I will return, and for this betrayal: You will suffer."

Then the voice was gone, and Rodrick was once again alone beneath the light of the portal.