"Two of our prison camps have been attacked in the past few days. Both Wardens have been defeated. We believe it to be the work of the Paria Empire, sir."
A low grumble escaped behind a green skull mask.
"For what reason are they attacking us? We have done nothing to warrant their aggression. No. Where are they getting the spare manpower to deal with us?"
"We aren't sure, sir. However, there is no pattern in their attacks yet. They are seemingly being attacked at random."
"Bastards. Looks like we can't let our guard down anymore. Tell the others to keep a high alert for anything that may look suspicious. I'll be in my office for the time being trying to get a hold of a nearby outpost."
The servant nodded his head and rushed out of the room. The Warden sighed and walked over to a strange metallic-looking handle. He pressed it to his ear and spoke to it quietly.
"Blood runs new. Bodies grow old. All hail Zalo."
A voice began speaking from the other line.
"Warden."
