"Morghur hears things," the Shadowgave suddenly said, the words sly and freakishly coy. "Morghur hears Malagor has powerful brayherd now. Has brought gors from far, far away. Many gors."
Malagor strained to not scream in frustration again, pride and instincts working together to demand violent recompense.
"Yes," the Despoiler of the Sacred snarled. "Malagor will shatter Empire, retake the forests forever, always. Great tide has Malagor brought forth."
Morghur stepped forward, leaving the outer layers of his legs behind as calcified cocoons of organic matter stuck into the ground. Each step regrew the skin and flesh again until it was nominally whole once more. By that point, their auras had begun to strain against one another, grinding, narrowing, spheres of presence and power flattening slightly along an invisible yet distinct border.
"Brayherd of Malagor, joined with brayherd of Morghur, should take Mage-Queen instead," Morghur said, the wet and slobbered whisper disgusting to the ear. "Have heard very strong, yes, join strength. Kill elves! Destroy Empire later."
The brayherd of Morghur cheered at those words, at least those that could. The chaos spawn only twitched and moaned when they had mouths.
"No," Malagor said flatly, causing the cheers to stop. "Elves stay in the cage they made. Empire pushes deeper into our forests every year!"
Morghur did not reply, just staring unblinking with eyes that melted like wax tears down his face before another pair grew anew into the sockets.
"Empire too strong now, getting too strong! New leader, Shining Uncloven, wields God-Hammer! Joining together again, making new human brayherd, not broken like before. Allies stronger with short-meat dwarfs!"
The faintest twitch could be seen as a pair of scabs on Morghur's cleaving limb grew wings and flew away, growing into three-foot wide ants with metal jaws.
"Malagor will crush Empire, will grow strong, can come crush elves and Queen then."