Argus woke up from a pleasant dream of absolute power, cranky and irritated. Now that he was up, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until the day was over. He was not capable of napping unless he had not slept the previous night and he refused to be someone who considered sleeping a hobby. 

He got out of bed and looked at the iron bands around his wrists. They were marked with magical symbols and could only be opened by an extremely well-guarded key. The whole point of them was to further sap his powers since destroying his soul gave him more powerful magical powers than normal. Right now, he would have to make all sorts of gestures and chant the right the words to restore a corpse to a pitiful half-life. Back in the day, he could simply look at a graveyard and will the inhabitants to rise and they would, even deceptively life-like until they took some new wear and tear. 

He sighed, if he wanted this thing off, he might need help. He hated working with others, especially since his downfall had been caused by such. If it weren't for these pesky bindings and the dampening magic of this wretched prison, he would simply wait for a rebellious mage to be put down and then go through the proper ritual to program the individual to rise later and be his agent on the outside and his avatar in the land.

That had been a favorite of his, reanimating the corpse of a hero and then modifying it into a monster clad in pitch black plate. Why, it wasn't until he overran a certain kingdom that his existence was actually known.

So, he put a surprisingly charming smile on his face (not too cheerful though, that would annoy more than appeal) and went to look for allies. Knowing that people were most vulnerable to attachment while eating, he went to the mess hall to have breakfast and see if anyone else was willing to cooperate and take some risks.