Assault on Darkshire [Staging]

[Illidan Stormrage]

Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living showed deference to the night elf, though such pantomime was easy to see through after his years suffering traitors and overly ambitious officers in his own army in Outland. The way his voice creaked over certain words, the pauses in his sentences, they were all dead giveaways that this was, at best, an alliance of convenience, and likely temporary. Plus, not many beings that exuded power like the desiccated mummy obeyed another unless it was in their best interests.

Still, less intelligent beings would simply outwardly declare their independence and lack of intention to follow hierarchy. This bandaged ... human, perhaps, held the wits about him to bend the knee, if only for show. That at least earned Illidan's respect.

"Excellent," the night elf said to Mumm-Ra's response. "I've no doubt the strength I sense in you will greatly bolster the war effort." He directed a hand upwards. "These wraiths will be our main attacking force." Turning around, Illidan motioned to the small number of Count Dracula's forces that had arrived to assist. Werewolves, necromancers, reanimated dead, demons ... possibly sent by Regis and Clawfang on the expedition for more soldiers, or just creatures that wandered in over the foggy plains. "These others will support; there isn't enough of their number to lead the charge."

Mumm-Ra nodded as his glowing eyes surveyed their forces.

A purple panther, reminding Illidan of his own people's mounts the nightsabers, bounded past them. Archimonde, his black tentacles flailing, chased after it. Before the kaldorei had a chance to muse on the situation, another undead figure came into view. A cloak covered his body save his skull, devoid of flesh and eyes. It gripped a staff tightly in one hand, a ram's skull placed atop it. The top of a pearl or glass orb could be seen behind the adornment.

Dark magics pulsed through the skull-man's body. Another warlock or necromancer, but one with great experience, perhaps even better than Regis. Unfortunately, having eyes and skin absent from its face meant reading its intentions without telepathy would prove ineffectual.

"Which of you has the rage of a storm?" the creature rasped, voice high and almost comical if it hadn't issued from a skinless face. "Who dares summon the Master of Evil?"

Mumm-Ra gave the new conscription an odd look, and Illidan couldn't decide if the mummy was disgusted by the bold proclamation or amused by it.

"I am Lord Illidan Stormrage," the kaldorei said, his voice hard. Where Mumm-Ra had the good sense to follow when a leader made themselves known, this one may not be so wise. "I am the leader of this campaign to eradicate Darkshire, and you best remember that." Who dares summon the Master of Evil? What a pretentious and downright dangerous way to introduce themselves to someone such as Stormrage. 

Illidan swallowed down his irritation, more concerned with victory than pride at the present moment. He motioned to the first officer to join his expedition. "This is Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living." The night elf made sure to include the honorific at the end, since the papery skinned undead had included it in his introduction for a reason, and there was no reason to besmirch those that came willingly to fight under his banner. "And who are you? You've yet to introduce yourself."

Other than as the 'Master of Evil,' he thought privately.