He had made it. The theatre of the Grand Council was just beyond this pass, he was in the clear now. The deadly wastelands behind him and the safest stronghold in the world was before him. His entire command had given their lives to get him here, just barely allowing him to escape death. He quickened his pace and was almost running down the path in his euphoria which caused him to miss hearing the silence that was ahead of him. His euphoria started to fade and wariness seeped in when he saw the end of the pass and heard the silence. 500,500 people made a lot of sound, even when sleeping, why was there silence, where was the gatekeeper. He started to run to the end of the pass, something was wrong, he saw it ass soon as he broke out of the pass. Dead. The entire council, 500 members and a thousand guards per each one lay slaughtered in their seats. He was too late, the Great Nations would fall, unaware of their approaching doom. He turned towards the speakers stand and felt a chill go down his spine. There stood a man, with cold, hard eyes binding him to the spot. An army of men and monsters stood behind him, some gigantic and lumbering, others sleek and viperish. He knew he was dead the moment he saw the man, felt the power in his gaze and saw the small smirk that pulled at his mouth. High General Malcor's last thought was of his son, orphaned at six years old, soon to be raised in a world ruled by evil. A single tear rolled down the general's face as he thought of his son, he the cold eyes and cursed them to a eternity of torture as he felt the sharp pain and was enveloped in darkness, as one of the monsters tore into him. "Malx, I'm sorry". And so ended the life of High General Malcor.