EXT. RUINS, MAKESHIFT CAMP – SUNRISE
A shattered ruin offers shade. The sky is blue, but dusty, as if printed on old parchment.
Thrukna and Phira'ag sit near a GHASTLY-GREEN FIRE, its flames licking upward like sickly seaweed.
A SAND PIXIE flits too close to the fire. It instantly contracts frostbite, SCREAMS a single, prolonged death throe, then collapses, shattering into green dust. Its tiny soul evaporates.
Phira'ag lies with his head raised, eyes reflecting the ghastly flame.
_
PHIRA'AG
You know, Mistress, one could argue that the prey we're hunting is the most vital ingredient in the resurrection ritual.
_
Thrukna sharpens a knife, her composure as stiff as ice.
_
THRUKNA
One could. What of it?
_
PHIRA'AG
(in earnest) Catching a single mandrake won't be easy, let alone six. Upon his return, Lord Obsidious is bound to reward our success. Wouldn't you agree?
_
She doesn't reply, just steadily whets the blade.
_
PHIRA'AG (CONT'D)
(sheepish) W-what would you ask for?
_
THRUKNA
(stern) The privilege of serving the one true dark lord in a single lifetime is reward enough.
_
Phira'ag watches her, hopeful anyway.
_
THRUKNA (CONT'D)
(sighs) But, on the rare chance a choice were given, I would ask for no greater privilege than watching him consume Abbelix's soul… (laughs) … the soul of a soul eater.
_
A beat.
She turns, studying Phira'ag.
_
THRUKNA (CONT'D)
And what of you, my pet? What would you have Our Lord gift you?
_
Phira'ag's pierced ears twitch. His gaze drifts, unfocusing.
A flash of fantasy: Thrukna draped in a scarlet bridal dress, holding a bouquet of black roses. Phira'ag sits beside her as something more than a beast, her spouse-to-be. White roses wreath his neck.
OBSIDIOUS presides over their union, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Beige, priestly attire contrasts with his obsidian skin.
The three of them are on a spotlighted dais. The backdrop is pitch black.
_
DAYDREAM OBSIDIOUS
(baritone) Do you, loyal steed, take this orc to be your lawfully wedded wife?
_
DAYDREAM PHIRA'AG
(proud) I do.
_
DAYDREAM OBSIDIOUS
And do you, faithful shamaness, take this hellhound to be your lawfully wedded husband?
_
DAYDREAM THRUKNA
(overwhelmed) I do.
_
DAYDREAM OBSIDIOUS
Then I pronounce you married. You may seal your forbidden union with a kiss.
_
DISEMBODIED VOICE
Tongue-fuck eachother's throats.
_
Daydream Phira'ag gulps.
Daydream Thrukna grabs her husband's head, brings his maw to her lips. Contact is imminent before…
Phira'ag blinks the daydream away.
_
PHIRA'AG
Yes, Mistress. Watching our lord consume that blasphemous soul… that would be the perfect reward.
_
Thrukna nods, satisfied. She settles back.
Phira'ag lowers his head, feigning languor, hiding the ache in his heart.
The ghastly fire crackles.
CUT TO:
