In a plane beyond the physical, a council of gods has gathered around an ethereal round table. Their bodies, neither flesh nor souls, floated above their seats as clouds of varied smoke. Some more bright than the others, some carrying a hue of malice and the others a pinkish blush–it was hard to differentiate one from the other, and yet, having been around each other for so long, their voice alone was enough to carry their conversation forward.
"I knew this plan was as scrappy as it gets, but who the hell listens to me!" Screaming through his raging smoke cloud, Valcan–the god of wraths and dragons let his dissent be known.
"And you had a better idea, I'm guessing?" Jestrus retorted, his voice carrying the same hint of sarcasm as ever.
