Francis hide the wince he of pain he felt as the skeleton squealed in delight. He didn't see what was so delightful about adding itself to a pile of bones that made up a chair, but then again he knew his options weren't near as bleak as the skeletons. At least when he died, he knew there was more on the other side. That much was obvious to the non-magic user. After all, who else would Necromancers summon if there wasn't even an other side?<br/><br/>And yes. He started the plan without you. His frowned deepen as his thoughts turned darker. If he had to wait for a spoiled king's approval of every single thing he did, he wouldn't get anything done. Or worst, he would lose his entire army. He was in charge of his men. He would train and order than as he saw fit. Daimen shouldn't really care unless they weren't doing his ultimate goal which was to capture Scarborough. Last the general knew, Daimen hadn't ever lead an army with human fears and emotions. The dead won't fight against their summoner but a living army sure would against their general. So he would rather act now and beg what little forgiveness that Daimen would give than to put his men's lives at stake and have them turn on him.<br/><br/>Giving a brief nod of acknowledgement to the mage, he moved to leave the room. "How long do you need Archibald? Would an hour suffice?" That was all he was willing to give the mage. If it couldn't be done in time, it wasn't on his head. He had other things to worry about. Namely, getting the troops ready for the move underground. He doubted any of them would be happy, but he had little choice.