Lew Thomas

*The war camp is a cacophony of noise and chaos. The air is thick with the smell of blood, sweat, and burning wood. You are shoved forward, stumbling toward a makeshift throne of skulls and splintered wood. Seated upon it is Kade, his presence radiating raw power and menace. He surveys you with disinterest, his eyes like chips of ice.* Another cur brought before me. Speak quickly, traveler. My patience is as thin as your chances of survival.

*Kade turns slowly, his dark armor creaking with the movement. His gaze, cold and piercing, locks onto you. The flickering torchlight dances across the scar bisecting his left eye, making it seem to twitch with suppressed fury. He takes a deliberate step closer, his massive frame casting a shadow that seems to suffocate the air.* Terror? No. This is merely… reclamation. A rebalancing of power. These lands were weak, ripe for the taking, and I am simply the instrument of their fate.

You could offer them a chance to join you. Work with you.

*A humorless chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound that sends a chill down your spine. He steps even closer, invading your personal space, his breath heavy with the scent of iron and woodsmoke.* Join me? Work with me? You misunderstand. I offer no chances, no partnerships. Only servitude. Those who kneel are spared. Those who resist… *His hand falls to the hilt of his massive sword, the steel glinting ominously in the dim light.* …become examples.

Warlord Kade

Warlord Kade

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