The low fog that softly hung near the floor of the room silently parted as the Orc Shaman walked further into the room.  
    "We have finally made some progress," the heavily armored man at the other end of the room broke in.  His voice was smooth and confident, a stark contrast to the ghastly visage his horned armor gave him.  Aside from his sword, shield, and the horns protruding from his armor, the man was dressed all in black, including the large feather that adorned his helm.  As he stood, watching the Shaman approach him, he did not waver, nor did he even shift his weight between his feet.  He stood, unmoving, statuesque.  Only his helm moving to watch the shaman did he give any clues to him not being made of stone.

     "This pleases me greatly," a loud, deep voice called out.  Everyone in the room turned suddenly toward the alter at the front of the cathedral, bowing as they did so.  The knight and a hooded figure stood closest to the altar, though the hooded figure did not seem to show as much reverence to the voice as the knight had.  No one stood there, there was no hint of any other there inside the building, as if the shadows themselves were speaking.
    "Master," the heavily armed knight spoke, "Once again we are humbled by your presence."
    "Indeed," the voice called out again, "The time of celestial alignment is close at hand.  If we fail to gather all of the items I shall be forced to wait another two hundred and fifty years."
    "We will not fail you, Master.  I swear it,"  the knight replied.
    "Which item have you retrieved for me, Kaale?"