Krug stared at the empty space above the forge-pit. The violet flames of his faith suddenly felt entirely too warm. He turned on his heel and walked swiftly off the stone balcony. He needed quiet.
Iron-Scale followed close behind him. The metallic Inquisitor's heavy tail dragged across the stone floor. The blade of his scythe scraped against the wall. He looked entirely rattled.
They stepped into a dark, quiet corridor away from the roaring furnaces and the profoundly confused murmurs of the crowd.
"This is a test," Iron-Scale hissed. He paced back and forth in the shadows, his metal claws clicking frantically against the stone. "It has to be a test of our resolve. I am the shadow of the Void. I execute the enemies of the Lord. How am I supposed to... court someone?"
Krug crossed his arms, hiding his trembling hands inside his deep robes. "The Lord does not give fake tests. It is a direct divine mandate. We are required to breed."
