The massive rat, wearing a cloak of black bat-wings and a helm crowned with the horns of some monster insect, paces past you. You stiffen and shrink back slightly, against the unyielding bodies of the recruits in position behind you. As if smelling a slightly abnormal amount of fear, The Warlord suddenly stops.
"You there, rat," He growls, motioning at you with his left hand, the other idly swishing his tail. "Step forward." He presses a coil of his whip-like tail up against your throat, hindering your breathing even as he transfixes you with his eye. "Ever been in a battle before, worm? Think I could use you in my army?" He growls. " You don't look like much-But how 'bout the rest of you lot, eh?" He nods at the greater bulk of vermin assembled behind and around you.
Several of the larger, more ferocious looking specimens begin to nod enthusiastically. "You all look like you'ves notched your blades more'n a few times. Like you could handle yourselves ina scrap. Well, we'll soon see about that, me cullies. -DEFEND YOURSELVES!" Without warning, he crashes into you, knocking you over and staggering over fully half a dozen other vermin. Winded, you instinctively roll out of the way as Cluny lays about with his tail at any target in reach, pounding with his impressive fists, even biting and clawing when opportunity arises. Rats and weasels, stoats and ferrets, cry out and scramble ineffectually to get out of the way, too disorientated to offer resistance of any real sort.
The God of War stops his rampage after only a few brief moments, standing in the center of his downed would-be soldiers. He doesn't have a mark on him, cape hardly even ruffled, but most of the vermin in his near vicinity lie curled on the ground, nursing torn ears and badly bruised bodies. Those farther out simply stare at him in awe, not moving in case they should incite another show of his ferocity. "Just as I thought." He spits scornfully at a hulking weasel squirming in the mud at his feet, occupied in alternately pawing at his battered jaw and flogged back. "You're all rotten. Worthless. Incapable altogether of harming even a single, unarmed foe. But I can make you better. You are mine 'tilI death and beyond if I wish it. -But I can turn you into an army of the greatest warriors ever seen in this land, or any other! Foes will tremble at your name, and gold and slaves beyond imagination shall be yours. All you desire- all you could desire- shall be yours. That is, if you remember your Master...WHO DO YOU SERVE?!"
Any vermin not groaning on the ground don't hesitate. They know the only answer, as if they'd been through it all before. With the way death worked around here, maybe they had.
"Cluny! Cluny! Cluny the Scourge!"
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