The Horned King

Everything was going according to plan for the Horned King; he'd sent his servants (including that imbecilic, cretinous little goblin, Creeper) to capture the young princess of Llyr, Eilonwy, so that he may get one step closer to seizing the colossal might of the Black Cauldron's powers, with an army of eternally undead soldiers at his beck and call - his Cauldron Born would exist upon this mortal plane to dominate these living beings, rendering them to their knees to act at his mercy.

All he needed was her bauble and perhaps a method of acquiring the location of the fated Cauldron. He would send as many men as necessary to achieve this goal, even the Gwythaints if need be, for as long as it took to gain the upper hand. It mattered not; he was a patient man.

Up to a point.

Creeper abruptly barged into the throne room of his castle, cackling as he tugged a writhing cloth sack behind him, proudly declaring that he himself had captured the princess.

The Horned King heavily doubted that claim, but still merely waved a bony hand to command Creeper to untie the sack. Once he did, the king's decaying, skeletal jaw set into a nondescript look of... perplexed bemusement.

"...This is not who I ordered you to capture." he uttered in his raspy voice, in an attempt to withhold his frustration.

The goblin's baffled gaze flicked between the captive and his master, until it struck him. "W-wha? But they look like-"

"Use your eyes, you bumbling fool. Do they look anything alike?" the Horned King interjected pointedly.

Creeper gave them a brief, uncertain onceover. "Eh... from a distance?"

...

The Horned King's dark, sunken eyes shone in an ominous red, which evoked a frightened yelp from Creeper, who immediately recoiled like the trembling coward he was.

"Go. Return with the princess, or there will be consequences." he ordered in a snarl.

"Y-Yes, sire!" Creeper rapidly exclaimed. "Sh-shall I, ah, throw this one in the dungeon? Execute them, sire?"

He was half-tempted to say 'yes' and be done with it.

However. They looked to be... equally as knowledgeable as his intended target.

After a moment's contemplation, the rutilant leer in his eyes dimmed. "...Leave them here. I may have some use for them."

Creeper quickly nodded once more, taking a few stumbling steps back. "Yes, sire! A-As you wish, sire!"

And with that, the impotent little goblin quickly scampered off, leaving the door to slam shut with an echoing thud... and leaving the Horned King with his unplanned guest.

They looked suitably unnerved - clueless, even, as if they were in a daze after being swept up into these affairs, knelt down on their knees with their wrists tied.

Good. The king admired an... impressionable mind.

"Steady yourself, young one." he told them, holding up his hand once again. "I must ask that you pardon my minion's incompetence; his mental aptitude tends to operate on a... 'pick and choose' basis, depending on the task at hand."

He then slowly pushed himself up to his feet, stepping down from his throne and ambling over to them, his emaciated frame only serving to emphasize his inherently menacing presence to them.

"As I mentioned, you are most definitely not who I am currently looking for. However..." he led on, observing their appearance - their posture, the way they look, the way they act... "...by no means would I dismiss the opportunity to turn away a potential... disciple - one who could serve to reap the almighty rewards the Black Cauldron will provide me. Us. And to mortals as a whole, the scourge they may be."

They were still noticeably apprehensive, not that he had much issue with that, but he could not allow them to maintain this feeble, weak-willed demeanor of theirs if they were to become part of his plans - he already had plenty of that around Creeper.

So, in a rare display of inquisitive fascination, he knelt down on one knee to their bound, restrained level, their eyes 'meeting' his own sunken gaze within the hollows of his skull.

"Speak. What is your name, mortal?" he beckoned.