On and unknown planet in the depths of space, a dark clothed figure walked silently through the halls of his bleak and foreboding fortress. Its clinical metal walls revealing nothing of what lay outside, he paused briefly to look over his shoulder where his two guards followed. They were as dark as he, encased in powered armor of a color as dark as the blackest knight each carrying a huge plasma cannon so large no mortal man could hope to even lift it yet alone fire.<br/><br/>However these were not mortal men, they were his Death Guards, long dead corpses animated by dark rituals and given sentience. They were utterly loyal and would die for him in a heartbeat, they never retreated and never surrendered.<br/><br/>Satisfied that they were following he continued on his way towards the council hall. Today would be interesting, the latest attacks on the pentagon states had not gone well, two of his ancients were slain in battle. Today would be the first time their replacements had attended a meeting of the council. He looked forward to it immensely, he always enjoyed the infighting between them, the intrigues and backstabbing were a welcome diversion from more pressing matters. When one had lived as long as he you learned to take pleasure in any distraction you could find.<br/><br/>As he entered the hall he look around, at the obsidian black table in the middle already the most senior of his ancients sat bickering, each sitting before the banner of their house that hung from the shadowed walls. He silently made his way over to his seat upon his throne crafted from the bones of some ancient creature that was long extinct that sat upon the dais that looked down upon the council floor.<br/><br/>The ancients already present bowed and groveled before him, each seeking to catch his eye, but he was bored with them, they were the oldest and he had grown tired with all but a few of them. His mind was on the fresh meat that would soon be arriving.