Chapter Two - Preparatives
"All the original Head Order members are dead, even those of the second and third generation, only I remain, and Tratpan, who was my shadow and my crow eyes since we met, I rely upon him the main responsability of keeping all you still followers of the Dragon Spirit, and ITs son, Fenrir, united and genuine. For the military part, Flynntaggart will be the highest authority regarding ranks and discipline. Between both, working together, Black Dragon Clan and Fenrir Fangs will now evolve and adapt. For my part, Ive listened the Dragons call, and Im leaving on a journey which will take me to the last answers we all need to understand."
VoraX´ helmet and mask were laying on the oak table, the silence reigning on the meeting room was dense and almost touchable, as a heavy tapestry wrapping everybody present. All members were present, even the newests, after a previous, short meeting with the Elite. Most of them have never seen VoraX face without his coverture, his pale skin, his blonde beard, his right green eye crossed by a dragon tattoo, and a serie of arcane symbols tattoed on his head. His gestures were tought, his gaze determined, but somehow, he was presenting a sutile new air, as if a bit more condescendant, an almost unperceptible gentility.
TR knew VoraX from a very long time, he never could achieve to keep the excesively rigorous rythm required to step near the Archlords side, but he once told him that Fenrir chosed him to reveal himself as the Dragon´s son, and so he was treated with more trust than most grunts. Not able to get rid from the sensation of lost, he dared to ask permission to talk.
"Yes Pat"
"I...is it possible to follow you, sir?"
"I already selected a team, agents with low profile but very hard working, they worke only for me and have managed to keep my resources abundant, it is not my intention to cripple this organization any further taking more good agents on a doubtful travel that may very probably end with a lonely death to all participants. Even though, it could be handy to take a couple of witness with me, ready to get back to the core clan and inform of my progress...or decease. Postulants must first ask permission to your new highest authorities, Flinn and Tratpan may each chose a volunteer to join me."
A wave of raw enthusiasm rushed the crowd of young dragons.
With a respectful coyness, Crazyhobo asked permission to talk.
"Yes Hobo"
"With all due respect, my Archlord, I was wondering...back at the outpost, you challenged the Moderators with a nuclear dispositive linked to your heartbeats...may I ask...if its not much daring...was it..."
"Yes and no, one of three Interesting´s material legacies is, indeed, a nuclear mini dispositive, and it is indeed inside my armour, but I would not condamn the existance of the Black dragons at the mercy of my own life. It must be triggered at will, but Im sure Admin´s scanners detected the potential danger"
Most dragons couldnt dissimulate the awe before the revelation, their Archlord could chose to explode...as an atomic bomb...
"Yes, Im The Atomic Archlord, if you want"
The Elite ironically smiled, they already knew the sporadic and random, black, twisted acid humour of VoraX, but most others dont, and amazed thinking "He made a JOKE!!!"
"My team is already at the deck arranging the preparatives, I part tomorrow, with the two witnesses. That, for a part, will be all for now. Tonight I will meditate and rest here, for the last time, inviting the Dragon to come to me, and I will let him use myself as a channel, for a straight message from HIM, through me, to all of you. Until then, I salute you, my dragons. Dea Drakonum Spiritum Obscuritatis"
"FOR THE GLORY" echoed all the voices at the unison.