"You know, we're not guessers, so when it's a good time for you people, stick with straightforward languages," Robert remarked. And as he left the tower, the Witch muttered back:
"If only it were so simple."
As she watched the reincarnations make their way out, Captain Snahl asked, "Are we really going to let them slip away?"
She patted him on the head. "We don't necessarily need them on our side right now. We just need them to stay out of our way. They'll be on our side when the time comes." The Witch leaned on the railing to gaze into the abyss below. She could not see to the bottom, despite the wide breadth of the tower. Somewhere down there was a door, a gateway to the Void sealed shut with the blood of untold millions. What would happen if the number of Voidspawn exceeded the number of souls used to seal them? What would happen if the world wasn't ready?
"Captain Snahl."
"Yes, milady?"
"Smile for me, would you?"
Snahl offered a toothy grin. "Sure boss."
His smile, though monstrous, seemed heartfelt. Grounded at the sight of it, the Witch heaved a long sigh and made herself smile back. "Thank you, Snahl. Here is your next mission: check every tomb on this floor and make sure no one else is primed to awaken. A light on the panel will turn red when one or more coffins unseals, so all you need to do is glance at it. We don't want any more incidents like this to happen again."
"Yes Your Majesty!"
As they scampered off to perform their duties, she opened a channel on all comms.
"The reincarnations have awakened. Do not fight them. Let them pass."
A semblance of peace had fallen over the city as the last of the resistance was either killed or taken into captivity. And Melvin was not happy about it. Goblins kept trampling all over the captain's grass, and he knew, he knew, there would be hell to pay if it wasn't properly punished. He'd managed to scare(?) off the first wave of attackers, but by the second wave, he'd turned into a human carpet and got dogpiled by (he could have sworn was) the whole entire invasion force. They'd apparently decided he was worth something.
So there he was, all tied up and seated next to his midget friend, while hundreds of scary-looking goblin death-knights milled about picking through the debris.
"Quite the puckered pickle we're in, wouldn't you say, Mr. Midget?" he murmured to Chatak. "The damn things have probably flattened the captain's lawn by now. Man, he's gonna be so pissed. I can't decide whether to be worried for him or the goblins. What do you think?"
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