Assault on Darkshire [Staging]

[Skeletor]

The Warlock considered Kerrigan’s proposal, pondering the ramifications of adding some of her forces to his own. He couldn’t deny that having her tunnel focused brood could be extremely useful should their plan be spotted too early. He did not know exactly how well he could trust Kerrigan’s forces, they were allies in the attack, but Kerrigan’s disdain for the warlock was barely hidden behind her piercing yellowed eyes. He did not think that she was so confident in their abilities that she would risk a betrayal amidst the fight itself, but he couldn’t be certain from her tone. If the Zerglings she offered did betray him, he would be facing them almost entirely on his own; he doubted that Illidan’s monstrosities would understand what was happening or care enough to get involved. It occurred to Skeletor for perhaps the first time that none of the forces he would be leading owed him any sort of personal loyalty. Only Panthor had his best interests in mind…

Skeletor turned back to face the Queen of Blades, “I will take them!” he declared shortly, “If you could see your way to lending me some of those explosive ones as well, we can make a bit of a dent in Darkshire’s day… and their walls.”

Kerrigan response was as difficult to read as always, “I don’t see a problem with that, but make sure the banelings know where the wall is, If we want to bring the towers of Darkshire down, then they will have to detonate close to the surface.”

Skeletor nodded, “Good! One other thing. I want you to take Panthor with you. He won’t be much help in a tunnel, and I’d like to think he’s near you if… something were to happen.” This gesture was little more than a deterrent, and Kerrigan was quite clearly aware of it. Skeletor was less than certain that the large cat would be enough to defeat the Zerg queen on his own, but he might prove enough of a factor to prevent her from trying to do anything troublesome while the battle was still underway.

Kerrigan’s eyes flashed and she turned and strode away without saying anything further. She was certainly not one accustomed to having commands given back to her. Skeletor chuckled to himself, and went back to the construction of his Doom-drill. The thing was larger than he had first remembered, and the scintillating rainbow bubble was proving quite taxing to keep in existence. Skeletor grunted, grinding his teeth as the metal vehicle slowly began to solidify within the orb.

Eventually, finally, the Doom-drill sat before him, its polished steel a stark contrast to the decrepit courtyard of Poenari castle. Skeletor grinned, leaning heavily on his Havoc staff. Darkshire, and their Ro-man would pay for their treatment of him. None could deny Skeletor forever, and there would be nothing within Darkshire’s walls that could possibly stand up to his power.