All seemed quiet in the grey, still throne room. No light came into the dull area, and alone in the room, sitting on a half shattered throne, sat Seadin Deadroot in black matte armor. He sat leisurely slumping in the massive but broken chair as he played with the small pure white quill that clashed with the melancholy setting, and he thought of the series of the events that had lead him here, to this. Within a matter of seconds his old life, his old lie of a life, had been changed, or reborn, into something greater, and now he sat as the leader of the true cause, the cause of true peace! He thought of the power he felt as the inadequate "holy" magic gave way to his enlightened dark magic. When he could connect as a medium, enacting as the thing that brought forth monsters, to the world of utter peace, the world of nothingness! For he knew, now, that peace could only exist if nothing at all did. He had his plan.
Suddenly, interrupting his pensive mood, Vussrix, a towering eight-foot tall heavily armored demon, came striding into the ruin throne room with eight or so undead. A small smile came to Seadin's face as he thought of his undead, although the helmet he uses to dehumanize himself hid it, for these are not the zombies that came before Seadin. Zombies were sluggish and had the mind dumber than the dullest dog, and they were used by common dark mages for basic protection. Seadin's undead were sentient and had the minds of some men, even if they were the dullest of men but smarter than simpletons, and so his undead, unlike zombies, could wear armor, wield weapons, and stay in formations, however he could never trust an undead to lead undead. Even the way Seadin brought the undead back was astronomically different than that of a necromancer that was, himself, a tear to the void. To make a zombie with dark magic, you had to have a body in perfect condition and all bodily functions intact, making zombies rare and easy to kill or in other words useless, but Seadin just opened an opening to the void and a lost soul fled into the body, looking for anyway back to the realm of existence. Since the body was driven by pure soul, they could suffer any injury possible and keep fighting as long as their head was not liberated from their body, and he also found he could raise the dead in massive quantities, raising his army. However, he needed leadership for his dumb horde, so he submitted demons, at first with the help of Vussrix but then on his own, to become his officers and generals. It took no time to slaughter the elves and orcs of the farthest reaches of the north to gain his numbers. At least three-thousand orc corpses ready to fight, and about two thousand elves the same, lead by his forty or so demons.
"Lord," Vussrix's voice was low and deep, like two massive stones coarsely rubbing across one another, "the demons under you grown anxious, what is our next step?"
Seadin thought, but to his audience he looked emotionless with his unmoving armor. The undead are stronger than an alive being because the lack of inhibitors, but he has seen nothing stronger than an orc undead.
"It is simple, we will consume all of Orcis and their people. We will grow in number and strength to destroy the realms and bring peace!" Seadin's voice was empty and low, almost as if the void itself whispered. "Prepare to move the legion."