Message #67373

[Jay117]

"Now then!" Miles assumed his chair and smiled widely, staring down the other three men in the room. "We do have business matters to attend to. Yes, yes, you harbor no ill will to the rest of the world, and you desire to have world peace as much as the next man, but unfortunately, those other men don't own your soul. We do." Those last words escaped like a satanic hiss, as Giratina assumed control of Miles body. His voice changed, his eyes turned pitch black, but his smile, oh that smile, that was unchanged.

"Apostle. Olympia's forces, do they stand ready at arms?" The hooded man simply nodded, his eyes still fixed on the tiles beneath him. "Chieftain, I assume Bonehollow's has it's forces prepared as always? Given that you barbarians are always at each other's throats." Again, just a nod. "A you, jarl of Tortuga. The warships are armed?"

"Yes m'lord. But do you truly beli-" Blood spilled from the jarl's mouth. He looked down at the kitchen knife embedded in his throat and back at Mile's black eyes.

"Tsk tsk... I didn't give you permission to speak. Let alone give me your opinion. No, no, you won't die. It's not your jugular. Just your larynx. You'll never speak again, but then again, that's not such a bad thing. I still need you as my puppet in Tortuga."

Miles stood up and proceeded to leave the room. "That's all! Back to your mundane existence. You'll know when we proceed."