The campaign table laid out ahead of her. Various symbols representing the demonic incursions her forces had summoned were in place across the map of the nation. Some pockets of resistance were marked, with a high concentration north of The Wall, but it was obvious they didn’t have the numbers. They would be crushed, as they had been so many times before, but it would be the last time it would be necessary. Once the Great Plan was complete, they wouldn’t have to consider opposition ever again. Her Dark Mistress would soon walk among them again.
An evil smirk crossed her face, as it often did when she thought of the power they were able to wield against the masses.
“Primus Inter Pares?” The pair of dark-cloaked guards uncrossed their force halberds as a portly man in an expensive-looking suit looked on, a hopeful look sitting between his expansive jowls.
She took a deep breath. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
“It’s just… you said you wanted to know the minute we had the Holy relics.”
Her eyes widened. “You have them?”
The man’s jowls jiggled with happiness. “Oh, yes. It really wasn’t too difficult. Just a matter of a bribe in the right place, and hiring a work crew to repair some potholes nearby. They needed to wait for it to rain, so nobody would see them pop over the fence to the mausoleum , so they were back here within three days.”
“Nobody questioned the presence of the work crew? We haven’t sent one of those out for years.”
“I think the people were too happy at the idea of the road being fixed to think about it, My Lady.”
“Very good. Dismissed.” She turned back to the table, relocating the iron-clad female figure armed with, of all things, a handbag, from the model of the mausoleum to the parliament building.
Yes. Everything was coming into alignment for the return of her Dark Mistress, and darkness would soon envelop the nation.