Morpheus has sent word to Garduk this day that he had made contact with another tribe, the Dwarven Luchirup and their leader Beeri Bawl.
As I was told of the news I ran through all the scenarios I had been planning for. Luckily, I had much information about the Luchirup and I had something planned for this very moment.
I went very still in my chair unmoving, as the messenger looked on with increasing concern and curiosity. I then started twitching muscles in my face at random and clenching and unclenching my fists.
My Lord, are you well? asked the messenger.
SILENCE! I roared, in a voice I hoped was different to my own and jumped and started pacing the room. DEFY ME WILL YOU BEERI BAWL. I THOUGHT I HAD ALREADY DEALT WITH YOU BUT THIS TIME I WILL MAKE SURE OF MY WORK. DESTROY THEM ALL. DESTROY THEM ALL.
I put all my anger into the performance, every word was spat out with a grimace and a scream. I must be convincing here or it will all be for nothing. After I finished I then sat back down and shook my head as if recovering from a blow. I looked blankly at the messenger as if unawares of what had happened.
He just paused, nodded and said Yes, my lord. And headed quickly towards the door, was I imagining an added spring to his step, a bit more respect in his words and extra urgency to his pace. The potential benefits of my ploy working were huge so maybe I was imagining it but already I felt hopeful I would be able to fool the information out of the Illians that In was sure they were withholding from me.
All at once the struggle to gain control of my mind was not for show. The presence hiding within suddenly exerted all of its will against mine. I was not prepared for such an attempt as it had been dormant for so long and it was easily able to gain temporary control. As the messenger was going out the door, I again spoke but this time truly not with words of my own making.
IF YOU FIND MY GOLEM, RETURN HIM HERE. I CAN ALWAYS PUT A PUPPET TO GOOD USE.
It then withdrew into the depths of my sub-conscious, laughing maniacally to itself. The messenger stood rooted to the spot, obviously unsure as to what had just happened. Slightly stunned myself and drained from both the real and pretend performances, I waved him on his way.
All of a sudden there was no doubt as to who I was sharing my mind with. Mulcarn, the fallen God of Ice, has returned.
What am I to do?