The Dark Mage stepped into Greenland. The only place in the Tundra that could be mistaken for the Plains, Greenland was a single square mile of space. The land was dominated by a large fortress, Pilliat, and home to varying wildlife. Rabbits, deer, wolves, foxes, walrus, puffins, and the odd mammoth. The mage crushed blooming flowers beneath his boot, not taking his eyes off of Pilliat. Steam rose from the mage's hands.
Arthur Hannigann was the self-proclaimed ruler of the Tundra. Arrogant and a coward, Arthur saw neither in himself. He saw a noble hero, as most with the former qualities do. Today, he was having his portrait done. as the artist flawlessly brushed Arthur's facial features, the Dark Mage walked in. Arthur's eyes diverted to the mage, and raised his finger. The artist stopped painting, as Arthur got up. He walked to the Dark Mage, who stood three inches taller than Arthur's six feet.
"What happened? Why are you here?" Arthur asked, obviously worried by the Dark Mage's sudden appearance.
"He is to return."
"He? Wait, the- the Sh-"
"Yes. An agent is within those who are to unwittingly do the deed."
"Then why are you here?"
"Greenland sits on undecided land. Tell me Arthur, are you with us, or against us?"
"I've been an ally of the League for years. Why should I stop now?"
"You have supplied us with armor, weaponry, and troopers, but you have also helped the other Men. So decide now Arthur, are you with us, or against us?"
"I don't suppose theirs any other option?"
"No. There is not," the mage said through tightly clenched teeth.
"Then I am with you. Now then, you'll have to excuse me. I have a portrait to finish!"
The artist rolled his eyes as Arthur threw his cape behind him.