The king is dead.

Yaddag watches Impostor King die

The ten tiny canoes glided smoothly through the still, black water of Lake Baggrim under the concealing light of the moon Dosta, named for the ogres god, bearing a score of ogres and half breeds to the island home of the wizard Tobbor. A black haired youth with very human features glares at the shore from the lead canoe. His half-blood eyes turn the darkness of night into varying shades of heat and cold. He suppresses a smile as the shore comes close enough to confirm that no one patrolled there tonight.
The ogres paddle to the shore and slide out of the canoes quietly. The leader is satisfied that his threats of prolonged and magical torture have motivated his warriors to the proper execution of the first part the attack. He rushes to the cover of the closest bushes and brings out a leather tub as the rest of his party carries the canoes into the underbrush.
He takes out a rolled up piece of parchment and reads the ancient symbols. His voice whispers the harsh syllables as the symbols vanish from the parchment and his eyes become focused to magical level. The rest of party watch the bushes and deeper into the trees as their leader works his magic. The spell complete he scans the bushes, trees and finally the old narrow path leading into the heart of the island before scampering up the path quickly. The rest of the ogres and their ilk follow keeping their heads low and their feet quiet.
The leader hurried through the trees and underbrush following the path as fast as he dared. He brushed aside branches and leaves looking forward to when he could cut it all back. The wizard must be a fool to allow the trees and bushes to grow so big. The old mage must really be getting senile to let the path to get so overgrown. He cast aside such thoughts and redoubled his scanning of the way ahead. His sensitive ears let him know that the ogres followed about as quiet as he could hope. The road took a bend just as the trees thinned out allowing a view of the wizard’s home.
Grey walls of stone sat on a short, treeless hill with four towers at the corners like a small keep. A moment of anxiety gripped the leader’s heart that he resolved by looking back at the path and picking up his pace. The ogres faster and louder strides told him that they too had seen the keep and anticipated the gold that was promised to be behind the walls. The leader smiled evilly thinking of how many of them he expected to die taking the place and how few would seen any treasure at all. He would lead them to surprise the unsuspecting Tobbor and at the same time trip as many of the stupid ogres into his own trap.