The Final Question

[Thaal Sinestro]

The strange man stood before Grobdum, his words slow, smooth and calm. And yet, there was a madness at the center of his stillness, he had been push so hard and so far that he had reached a pinnacle of sorts, like driving so far into the hurricane that you have reached the eye of the storm. It was from there, from that point where they were pulled in so many directions that they stood motionless, that they would decide which wind would carry them.

“Does I like war?” Grobdum asked the man. “Choppin’ is all dat I is, all dat I do.” He held up his claw, without even a flash of magic sputtering forth. “Dat’s wot magic is. Wiffout a good WAAAGH!, dere ain’t no magic.”

His expression changed from a despondence to one of fury, “Dat’s wot everythin’ is! You fight, you fight against you, you fight against dem; you fight! Everyting is da fight.” Staring up to the scientist, he shrugged, “Wot else dere?”