boombox
Melkor's eyes seem to sparkle in a dark orange light, like a little flame. He frowns.
"Excuse me, something out of my control has happened. Don't worry, I have a solution ready."
Melkor gets up from his chair and snaps his finger. A disoriented orc now sits where he sat before.
"Wait a second, this ain't the pub, and what am I wearing?"
"This is a conference room, Lurz. You're wearing a suit because you'll have to negotiate with important people. Don't worry, I'll be helping you."
"Wait, wha..."
Melkor quickly puts his hand against the uruk's face, whose eyes now seem to glow in the same peculiar way as his master's.
"His mind is now alligned with mine, which means..."
"...I can control what he says, and hear what he hears."
The orc blinked for a moment with some minor confusion. He doesn't seem remember what he just said.
"Good, I hope to be back soon."
And in a flash of dark flames, the Elder King just vanishes.
"I would rather start with trade first. I've heard Germans have a good production of Bratwurst, am I correct?"
