Annbitar, the shrouded, wakeful since the first of the tomb alarms, effortlessly hovered amidst the shadows of an enemy's so-called "strong point," a term humans used for their pitiful constructs. Rather than concerning himself with the trifling assignments assigned by the overlords, Annbitar, in his infinite wisdom, conveniently delegated them to subordinates while shamelessly basking in the glory. His existence was an endless array of self-made challenges, which he promptly conquered, albeit nothing of significant consequence, all to vex the feeble humans.
The stronghold in question had been rumored to be manned by a skeleton crew. A mere skirmish, it seemed. How few soldiers would it take to break their spirit? What, you ask, was his grand strategy?
Such trivialities are beneath notice now, for some imbecilic, wretched warden chose to meet his untimely demise. Despite the warden's unsavory track record, this newfound excuse granted Annbitar the divine right to initiate a siege. Finally, he could relish in the command of a cohort of warriors, as opposed to the motley rabble he had previously commandeered.
As a superfluous bonus, a Skorpekh lord and his band of destroyers decided to tag along, and the keystone of this force was none other than a Doomsday Ark. The wall would remain unbreached without it, and Annbitar had no intention of wandering through the labyrinthine human manufactorium to locate the known back entrance. If only that inept royal warden had executed his duties properly and disposed of the accursed human constructs. Alas, such matters were now irrelevant.
The inaugural salvo from the Ark was poised to be unleashed at any moment.
Any moment now...
...
This is becoming utterly preposterous.
To compound the absurdity, a wretched human strolled casually around the corner. It cast a disdainful gaze upon Annbitar, then glanced at the bottle in its hand, and back to Annbitar. Muttering incoherently, it lifted the drink to its mouth, but alas, Annbitar's staff impaled the wretched creature. The human appeared perplexed, and at this close range, its wrinkles and a few remaining tufts of shiny hair were painfully evident. An inconsequential piece of metal dangled from its neck, bearing the word "harri-." Almost as if sensing the important character developing moment, the long-awaited volley from the Ark finally descended.
