He's late but not really. Kingpin has been in the Valley since the war started, wreaking havoc on the unfortunate souls of the Gates that followed blindly to the wolves. He’s enjoyed himself, can’t say he hasn’t, the soiled silvered coat is enough to vouch for that. Their bodies proved as gentle and soft as their souls, bending almost too easily, too quickly to his will. They broke, beneath him, around him, they broke though they were broken long before they came here.
Kingpin doesn’t mind being blood stained, it brings out his eyes, don’t you think?
For a moment he stares hard into the ever changing landscape of the Chamber, first fire, then earth, then ice. The world around him is at odds, it is chaos and destruction, it is beautiful. He stares forever long, as though he is trying to pierce the very borders with his bloody eyes. It’s wishful thinking for the untraited stallion, though he is stocky and muscled he is unremarkable, he is without aid in this fight but that doesn’t stop him. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t the most intelligent of beasts, maybe it was inherited, both of his parents were sorely mad after all.
When looks do not kill, Kingpin enters the Chamber, hell bent on attacking the biggest and newest thing to catch his gaze. A giant, walking octopus, or it was sort of an octopus- the bottom half was anyway. The silvered boy knew nothing of kraken’s so he could only chalk the creature up to what he knew, and to him this was an overgrown cephalopod. Clearly he is outmatched, out-magicked, clearly he does not think this charge through. For really, what could a little horse do to a towering monstrosity big enough to easily defeat a herd of him?
The nearest tentacle receives a mighty headbutt (he would like to think), though Kingpin does not account for the way the pliable surface gives, his head sinking in several inches throwing him off balance. Had the thing even felt that? Did it hurt? Well if anything maybe he had grabbed it’s attention and he would have a real fight on his hands.
K I N G P I N
kill them all
Hai nish - feel free to disease this poor bastard or what have you- outcome should be death