The turret became busier than ever, since the war was declared. There were many things to do, thousands of gods to train. The Great Impaler became the embodiment of as busy as a beaver. He was at the archery range, showing the gods in training how a perfect shot, through the head can be shot. One of the Third Battalion came to him, he bowed, "My Lord," he called to his attention.
"Hmm," Zander hummed as he pulled the drawstrings of the bow.
"The king is here, and requests your presence."
Zander released the arrow, it flew with incredible speed before it struck the target it was aimed for. Its head flew off. The warriors were sure amazed, their lord never seized to amaze them.
Zander handed the bow to a nearby warrior, "Practice till you get it right." He ordered them
"Yes, my lord!" The warriors chorused.
The Great Impaler nodded before he left to see the King. He met him just outside the turret.
