The flames of the war camp at his back, casting shadows throughout the tent, Endovelicus sat and pondered. A tiny desk seemed to almost cower in front of his huge frame, its surface covered in sheaves of blank paper. Tentatively, gauntleted hand shaking, Endovelicus slowly maneuvered a quill to the paper and, with intense concentration, began to scratch out a letter.
He leaned back to admire his work. It was a good start. M was a good letter, sturdy and strong. Endovelicus allowed himself a small glow of pride, and started work on the next letter.
Two letters. A single word. This wasn’t so hard. His subordinates who told him to let them write the report were obviously just wanting to hog all the glory to themselves. KARZAK had demanded reports, and as his loyal general, it was an honor for Endovelicus to comply. Several scratches and false starts later, he had his first sentence.
“MY LORD KARZAK”
The Genocide General leaned back, satisfied with his work. Most battles are won with the first strike, and as first sentences go, this one was a masterful stroke. Steeling himself, he prepared to write the next letter. Steadying the paper with his left hand, and holding the quill with his right, he grabbed the inkwell with his other hand and carefully dipped the quill in it. Pausing for a moment, he pondered his next move.
“MY LORD KARZAK,
A tiny crack cut through the air as the quill snapped between Endovelicus’ gauntleted fingers. Seething with sudden rage, he managed to steady his fist and quench the flames that had burst into existence around it. As his attention wavered, with a horrible, slow inevitability, the inkwell fell from his hand and splattered across the note.
The small desk splintered under the force of Endovelicus’ fist, reduced to kindling which immediately set alight under the head radiating from his armor. Again and again, he pummeled the desk, all four arms moving like pistons and pounding the unfortunate furniture into dust.
Looming above its ruined remains, Endovelicus swept about dramatically, turning his back on the obliterated enemy. Surely writing reports was no job for a general of his stature. He would have one of his lieutenants take care of it immediately. A fine idea, as expected from a strategic genius like himself. Satisfied, but still annoyed, Endovelicus grabbed his weapons and set off to vent his anger.