Unfinished Business

[Shang Tsung]

For the longest time, the world of the Pale Moors had been relatively stable.  Ever since the little tin boy had killed the upstart demon and the mayor had been ousted, the overcast realm of rolling hills and once verdant farmlands had experienced what amounted to ‘normality.’  Adventurers had come and gone—some of them with higher profiles than others—but there had been nothing that neared the scale of early incidents.  Shang Tsung, Atelos, Dobson, and the others who managed the town had experienced little to break them from their routines.  The clash in the Nexus and the sorcerer’s experiments with the Power Ring felt like blurs in the rearview mirror in lieu of recent events.

“An army?”  The sorcerer muttered as he looked at a topographic map of the region around Darkshire. He glanced up from the little display as he waited for confirmation from the men on the other side of the table.

“No,” Atelos grumbled.  “Just a bunch of demons and ghouls and blackguards marching over here to sample the newest ales from THE Pub.”

Try as he might, Shang couldn’t prevent himself from flashing a faint smirk as he leaned closer to the map and tapped a finger on one of the little stone miniatures that marked one of the garrisons at the walls.  Since the coup, Darkshire had steadily grown stable and stronger, but the town had yet to shake off all of its figurate demons.  To force the citizenry to contend with an assault by literal demons would be an ordeal in and off itself.  “All the garrisons are stocked and staffed? Have we placed a call to make sure Abraham's in town?”  He asked as he looked up at Atelos.

“Aye,” the Spartan responded as he picked up a piece of paper.  Despite the Grecian’s efforts to ‘get new-fangled,’ he often reverted to old reliables in high stress situations.  That was a blessing, because the last thing Shang, Dobson, Demetri, or anyone else needed at this moment was to have the Spartan breaking tablet computers.  “The only soldiers who are on leave are local, which means we’ll be able to round them up right before we announce the oncoming assault to the populace. And the old man is here."  

“And the non-locals?”  Shang asked as he turned to look toward Dobson.  “All those stalwart primes who pledged their fealty to Darkshire?  Are they in touch?”

“We’ve done what we can,” Dobson remarked, although the look on his face betrayed something beneath the surface.  Frustration?  The sorcerer wasn’t that in-touch with the military side of things since ensuring that the Spartan took over that department, so he didn’t know just how many primes visited the town with noble intentions.  “We can only await any arrivals in the calm before the storm.”

Shang suppressed another scowl as he walked away from the topographical map.  “Any estimates on the size of this army?”

Atelos shook his head.  “Reports mention there are some… unsavory elements, so we should expect that.”

“We should have retaliated sooner,” the sorcerer muttered as he looked at a yellowed map of the Moors that hung on the far wall.  “We got lazy sitting here trying to clear away the dust and grim in these walls.  Had we gone on the offensive, we could have avoided a battle at out front door.”

“It’s too late for what could have been,” Dobson shoot back.  “All we can focus on is what’s right in front of us, and that’s an army of ghouls and monsters led by one of the count’s primes.”

The sorcerer reached into his pocket and glanced down at the silver ring.  The emblem in the center glowed with a faint shade of orange as he mulled over a few thoughts.  Looking back up at his colleagues, Shang smiled and returned his focus to the topographical map.  “Let’s crunch numbers.”

***

With the meeting nearly at its end, Shang looked forward to retiring to his chambers.  No one seemed to be quite sure when this army would arrive on the horizon, which meant any remaining time had to be maximized.  Shang wanted to ensure that all his own personal business was in order before the situation went south.  

Unlike the previous attacks or the sporadic incident on the walls, this would require his utmost attention.  Atelos, bless his thick and unyielding skull, would need every warm body at the defense of Darkshire.  Even if this enemy force could be defeated without heavy losses, it was important that the town show unchallenged unity in the face of aggression.

They’ll need to be unified if we’re to have any luck with the next step…

“Shang!”

Although the voice was muffled through at least two doors, Shang knew who was screaming for him.  There was no such individual in the Omniverse who could condense all that malice into just one word.

“What was that?”  One of the triumvirs remarked as everyone turned to the door.  

The sorcerer held up a hand to prevent anyone from moving toward the exit of the planning room.  “A friend… I’ll go chat with you.  You all finish up in here and leave the report for me.”

With a scowl on his face, Shang exited through the heavy door and quickly passed through the adjacent waiting room.  As he stepped out into the hallway, he turned and made eye contact just as the white-haired man was opening his mouth to shout once more.

“Hello, Strazio,” the sorcerer spoke as he put his right hand into his pocket and slipped the Power Ring onto his middle finger.  “What brings you to this part of town?”