Death Sends His Regards
Fat Face watched the court from his perch by the Golden Emperors throne. Only once before in his time as the Emperors fool had he seen so many of the elites gathered in one place, and that had been for the birth of the crown prince. Now the great Dwarven thanes, Elven nobles, and even the chiefs of his people, the Halfling clans, were here to see the human ambassador. He had to cover his mouth to stop from laughing out loud at that. Humans didn't have ambassadors, they were little more than the monsters that huddled in the swamps, jungles and deserts of the south. They'd lost their right to be considered civilized almost 500 years ago when the civilized races cast them down.
The human knelt down in supplication to the Emperor. He was unarmed of course, dressed in coarse cotton clothes, little better than a farmer, several large barrels were at his back, tribute to the court. The guards had checked the barrels for magic, and found nothing other than a simple rune to keep the contents fresh. Fat Face hoped they held wine.
“You should be on your face human,” the Emperor said.
Rising to his feet, the human dared to look the Emperor in the eyes. “I knelt as a courtesy, anything more than that will not happen.”
Fat Face almost fell from his perch in shock while a murmur ran through the court. How dare the human rise without being leave, and worse yet to speak with such insolence. The Emperor would make the human scream for that.
“It seems that your centuries in the wastelands haven't improved your manners. Lets get this over with,” the Emperor said, clearly bored with all of this, “what is the message your leaders wish to give my court.”
“We are declaring war on your empire,” the human said.
The murmurs became a roar. Some of the court laughed at the insanity of the human, others demanded his head, a few asked if this was an elaborate joke.
“Really? You humans believe you can defeat the empire?” The Emperor asked.
The human nodded. “Humans, Orcs, Goblins and the Centaur, our armies are already marching on your borders.”
“My father was too kind letting your species live. We really should have done the world a favour and cast you down along with your gods. What do you think your primitive, godless armies can accomplish?”
The human didn't answer immediately, he turned and lifted the lid from one of the barrels, revealing a grainy, black powder. “You destroyed the old gods. The gods of humanity, Orc, Goblin and Centaurs were too weak to face yours. So we found a new god, one far stronger than your own.”
Now the court and the Emperor laughed, Fat Face laughed so hard he fell to the floor. The Gods of the Elves, Dwarves and Halflings had ripped the weak and divided gods apart, taking their powers to forge mighty weapons. The Emperor and the Gods would make the monsters scream for mercy before they died.
The human waited for the laughter to die down, a small smile on his lips. When there was silence, he spoke, his voice cold and hard. “Our new god is Death, he sends his regards.”
A single spark fell from the humans hand, hitting the black powder. The magical wards, both personal wards and the far more powerful ones built into the room itself, flared to life. They didn't help.
The small match set off the gunpowder in the first barrel, causing it to explode, the four other large barrels erupted a second later. The wards were set to absorb magic, not a natural explosion. The nails and bits of jagged metal mixed into the gunpowder only added to the carnage.
Fat Face survived by virtue of being on the floor. Burned, battered and holding his intestines in his hands, the fool stared at the court. A few of the lesser nobles were alive and standing, protected by the ranks of higher nobles who had taken the brunt of the blast. A few particularly hardy members of court that had been closer to the explosion screamed or groaned in agony.
His eyes went to the throne, it had fallen, the Golden Emperor, Protector of the Civilized World, the most powerful mortal in existence, lay broken and burned on top of it.