boombox
ImTired
A little Afterburner seemed to deliver something to the Monarch, as if in an haste.
Melkor enters the meeting room again, as if nothing happened.
"Excuse me for my short absence."
"Excuse me for my short absence."
"Oh wait."
"Oh wait."
The Dark Lord snaps his finger, the orcs blinks a couple times as if awakening from a trance.
"You can leave us."
"...Okay... Boss..."
The orc leaves the room, very confused to say the least.
"Alright, I'm afraid some very urgent matters are pressing, so I would like to make a short-term deal we could extend later. I want about 500.000 kg of Bratwurst. In exchange I provide you enough dark mithril, that's what I call this alloy, to fully arm 700 soldiers. This would include armor and weapons. And some extra for your own projects. What do you say?"
