The King found himself slightly unsure of what to do. With one of the escapees beckoning, he felt it altogether prudent to do something that would ingratiate himself with this band of damned and demons. Without a word he moved wraithlike towards the man, towards the battle. He saw a few of the guards lining up on the monstrous beast that mowed down rank upon rank, and, with a gleeful flash of his eyes, he danced forward, drawing the broken sword, and drove the blade through the back and up out of the chest of one guard, dropping the other with a quick drain from the head.

Another was tiptoeing towards the cybernetic fellow, and with a careful sprint--careful around the bodies! they might not be quite dead!--he delivered this man's head from his body with a brutal thwack. The King walked up beside his new compatriot, placing a hand upon his shoulder and delivering a boost of energy--to show his friendliness if nothing else--and then strode forward, cutting down another guard with a mutilating slash to the guts.

[color=lightblue]"So... what's your name?"[/color] The King asked, draining another guard and watching his bloodless face fall flat on the ground. His voice was grating and difficult to discern; he coughed as his hands burned brightly: [color=lightblue]"And where's the Key?"[/color]