"With our blood and our steel, we will pave the road to our future!"
Orion stood on a high dais, his Deathly Soul-Reaper form radiating a palpable menace. He drew the king's sword, Doomscourge, from his hip. Its blade erupted in reddish-gold flames, a miniature sun that captured the gaze of every follower and slave arrayed before him.
"We will tear our way into the higher planes of this Abyss. We will conquer its people, take their lands, enslave their children, and feast on their resources!"
He pointed the flaming sword to the sky, his final war cry before shattering the dimensional walls. The words—conquer, plunder, take, enslave, feast—were a litany of brutal ambition, a poison that seeped into the minds of his followers, stoking the fires of their greed and desperation.
