The spring breeze tugged at the drapes of the Bishops official chambers, a fact that he was eternally grateful for. The dense walls of the ecclesiarch held the heat so any respite was welcome. His visitors all seemed utterly unaffected by the seasonal warmth. First Blade Shareef Bin Ommar, leader of the Kalemic forces in A’thael, Shard Legate Vargon and Marshal Rudael felt no discomfort and the Bishop felt envious of their cool calm demeanour.
“What news from your masters assailing the d’rough?” The sweating clergyman sipped watered wine and mopped his brow with a silken kerchief.
Vargon stood as did the angel. Neither suited for human sized chairs, Rudael due to his etheric wings and the golem due to his sheer bulk and weight.
The augmented one bowed his crimson hood. “The fey stronghold designated – NIGHTEYE, still is under the possession of its defenders the sub species d’rough and its allies sub species Li..”
“Yes, yes thankyou.” The Bishop was well used to the fact heavy speech of the lesser augmented officers. He was eager to complete this meeting and retire to his meditation pool. “Blessed Archon?”
Rudael did not look at the Bishop as he spoke. Instead he gazed out of the window, his Ubernatural sight fixed upon a small finch industriously making its nest in the eaves of a tower across the grand square. “There are several holds now missing, noble Bishop. The Occultus have been busy. We will try…”
The bishop slammed a palm down upon his desk. “Do! Don’t try! Do, or by the gods I will…”
“Do what, Bishop?” Iron hard the seraphs voice was laced with chained wrath. “Do what? Remember your place, and take not the pantheons name in vain human. WE are bound to you by the gods WORD. But NEVER presume to threaten us. Never.”