"Who is it?!" yelled a voice from behind the ever-so-gigantic door, the entrance, basically, the two men in front clearing their voices as they expeditiously fixed themselves - rubbing their trousers straight, that is.
Two men, one old and the other young, stood in place of the cramped patio of the small site, both the individuals looking around as they firmly paused and stood for another statement to be yelled out. They huffed, watching the ever-so-bright glow from the lanterns constantly leave the dim and vague place.
"It is us," answered the old man, snickering a bit. A canny and sly smirk was present on his face, the individual then looking behind him as he gazed at the younger man standing back, nodding as he did so.
"The chief and his companion, Chul, that is," muttered the young man, groaning a bit. "Dear sire, we had come for an exciting purpose, I tell you."
Truly, that answer and statement were all that was decisive and necessary for the man behind the entrance to open the door, his head peeking out of the entryway. He then smiled a bit, pushing the entrance wider open.
"Folks," called the man, clapping his hands multiple times, driving the attention of the individuals in the site closer to him. "The chief and his companion had arrived."
Each Were then stood up, bowing in accordance, deference, and respect, the room then rather peaceful and quiescent. The site, not only was it full of individuals, Weres, that is, it was also full of armors, torches, and weapons - crossbows, daggers, maces, swords, and whatnot - that each hung on the room's four walls.
"How is everyone doing?" asked the chief, tilting his head as a small smirk appeared on his face. "Is everyone doing and feeling alright?"
"Yes, master," answered a Were, bowing in enthusiasm and honor. "We are doing and feeling great - the best, even."
"Very good," murmured the chief, giggling. "That enthusiasm of yours is truly needed, I tell all of you. We need to feel the best and the most confident as we excute our plan, alright? Our victory relies on us, after all."
Each Were then nodded, each of them then murmuring small "I understand"s and "Yes"s. They looked up, gazing upon the chief, who still had an affectionate expression on his face. Though each Were in the rather secluded site considered this expression of the chief very much eccentric and peculiar, they still believed that it was an expression of a true leader, though it may seem like the opposite.
"I do hope that each one of you remembers what we're here for, hm?" chimed the chief, smiling.
"To crush the royal family and bring this kingdom back to peace," growled a Were, his mouth twitching in anger and displeasure. "We do remember, master. We all do remember the flagrant mistakes the royal family had done - to our relationship with the humans, and to us, in general."
"Correct," beamed the chief, both of his hands resting on top of him abdomen. He brought his head back up, a solemn smile seen and visible. "And, I truly believe, that the perfect time for the war we have been planning for for a very long time have come, finally."
How did the chief gather this much people - soldiers, I must say - to fight for him and his belief, may you ask? It was quite easy and effortless of him - all that he did was to fill the minds of these people with ill-advised lies and foolish rumours, after all.
"What do we do now, sir?" asked Chul, gazing at his so-called master with much curiosity, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and excitement - they were about to fight, nonetheless. "Now that we had informed them, that is."
"We wait, Chul," answered the chief, smiling ever-so-affectionately. "We wait for the most fitting opportunity - the perfect time, even. We have to be patient, my dear boy - if, we actually want to win this battle, that is."
'Now that everything I had planned is going very much smoothly, onto the path I had drew for it, I assure all of you - Jeon Ji-hoo and whatnot - that I will win this battle, for sure,' proclaimed Chief Lee, smirking ever-so-slightly. He had narrowed his gaze, his eyes darkening, as if all the mischief he grasped was recognized, finally. 'I will win this war.'