The Dark One stood frozen, staring at the three trench coats posing atop a folded shell of a Halfling. The Dark One shouted with a half-enraged, half-disgusted tone

“Wha- what is the meaning of this!?”

Cotton, a long tan single-breasted trench coat, replied confidently.

“This is the end of your reign, old man!”

“Yeah, old man!” Echoed Cashmere, a medium length double breasted trench coat. “Tell him Linen!”

Linen appeared from behind Cotton, revealing himself to be a meek grey Pea Coat rather than a true trench coat himself. His sleeves shuddered as he looked upon The Dark One. In his best heroic voice, he proclaimed:

“It’s over Dark One! The prophecy shall come to pass!”

“The prophecy?” The Dark One regained his composure. He chuckled to himself. “Lumis!” He shouted, manifesting a brilliant light to illuminate the walls of the room and display his vast collection of intricate tapestries.

“Foolish halflin- trench coat…s? Foolish Heroes! This is every prophecy I have ever received! My rise to power, the war on the Alderam kingdom, even the attempted coup led by my former lover, and the only prophecy yet to be fulfilled is my ascension to immortality. How you managed to even make it this far without that knowledge is beyond me.” He strode to his throne and sat down. “I’ll admit, you gave me quite the shock with that halfling stunt, it was impressively repulsive to be honest. Alas, it’s time you three depart.” He grimaced and began chanting.

Cotton called the trench coats to action:

“Cashmere, protection! Linen, counter-spell!”

Cashmere cast a barrier spell around the trio, allowing Cotton to lead a forward charge. Linen followed in back whilst chanting an incantation, summoning an array of ethereal purple spikes above them.

The Dark One finished his chanting, and flicked his wrist in a gesture towards the textile trio. Immediately, a massive fireball consumed the roof and barreled down at them. To the Dark One’s surprise the array of spikes summoned by the little Pea Coat, Linen, swirled violently into the fireball. Both spells dissipated harmlessly as a result, and moonbeams shone down through the fiery hole left in the ceiling.

“What?”

The Dark One looked at the scene before him and felt it was oddly familiar. His mind flashed with hundred of memories as he mindlessly cast a torrent of spells, confident that at least one spell would break the invader’s defenses. He came to a realization.

“The prophecy?”

Cotton, Linen and Cashmere struggled as they fended off the torrent of offensive magic. Nonetheless they pushed ever forward towards the Dark One.

“The prophecy…”

The Dark One recalled the tapestry of his last remaining unfulfilled prophecy. Red background with gold stitching. The scene depicted the Dark One sat on his throne, the throne room roofless and engulfed in flames. Sat in his throne surrounded by gore, the Dark One consumed a garment as two others watched in horror, arms stretched upwards.

“It can’t be!” He exclaimed.

The Dark One ceased his fire, bellowing “Stop!” The textile trio stopped in their tracks, feet from the throne. He laughed uproariously, declaring “You FOOLS! ‘The Prophecy shall come to pass’ indeed! He threw an arm out and gripped the collar of Cotton. Pulling the trench coat closer to himself he saw Linen and Cashmere throw their arms into the air. The Dark One opened his mouth wide, and Cotton stuffed their sleeve into his throat. His confusion grew upon hearing the other two shout “Yippee!” “We did it!”

The Dark One stopped halfway through consuming the sleeve of the coat. His eyes widened and he glanced at the tapestry once more, illuminated by firelight. The throne was surrounded in gore. He felt the arm of the coat begin to grip something within him, and pull.

Cotton shouted “We got him boys!” And began the process of hollowing out the Dark Lord’s body. “We’re gonna be the Dark One!”