Axxye eyed the smirking Myrddraal from the shadows, who folded up his proclamation and let out what sounded like the constipated mew of a kitten. He rolled his eyes, disgusted. Ironic, that Axxye himself was hidden from the eyeless gaze of those who commanded the very shadows themselves.
Suddenly, giggling to himself with merciless glee as he flung flames at a sniveling trolloc whelp, turning the young juvenile into a pile of ash and sizzling bone, Axxye righted himself and regained his composure.
"The Myrddraal have become disrespectful, and they will learn their place. They believe themselves above the Chosen? How irritating. How quickly they forget that the Great Lord rewards strength. I am obviously the strongest," he mused to himself as he stepped into a vertical line that split the air and formed into a rectangular doorway.