She is the first to arrive, his carrion queen - she takes her rightful place beside him, and his gargantuan head dips in a nod of greeting. She speaks, and the warmaster schools his face into neutrality. He does not want the unicorn scum anywhere near the upper echelon of the Regime's ranks, but this society is about compromise, and the blind beast is...useful, if nothing else. "Very well," he rumbles. On your head be it. Morir is the next to arrive, but Tyradon does not ackowledge him - is there any point, when he is blind?

An equine mare follows, and a stab of relief soars through the hellion at the fact there is at least one pureblood in the ranks. She speaks her name, and the stallion nods his affirmation - he does not give his own name, intending to wait until all have arrived. Moniz arrives next, and he looks automatically for her dragon - to his astonishment, he sees but a wingless lizard, and a brow lifts in shock. In his mind, Cynder chuckles - she knew full well that no dragon hid in the mare's egg, but declined to mention the fact. Tyradon almost grimaces, and vows to scold the war-dragon for her secrecy once this meeting is through. His eyes ghost over a unicorn mare - eurgh - and to a young equine stallion, who refers to Confutatis as his mother. Perhaps this is the one she told him about, the son of a warmaster.

There are two noticeable absences; his own son, Farkas, and Cyrus, the other racist equine he had recruited. It is a damned shame, but there is little time to wait - the night grows older, and they can delay no longer. "Greetings, everyone. I am Tyradon, and this is Cynder." The emerald dragoness blows a smoke ring, which rises to the stone roof of the Rotunda and disappears into the frigid night air. The pair glance to Confutatis, giving her an opportunity to say her and Mongrel's own names, should any here not know her. "Our Regime grows by the day, but we need more. Go to the Threshold, find those who seek power and persuade them to join our cause. If they refuse, take by force." It is far more advantageous to have members willing to aid them with blood and steel rather than captives waiting to slip a knife between the ribs, but with enough persuasion the beast has confidence that even the most devout anti-Regime individual can be turned to their cause.

It is either be with them, or against them.

"We intend to take every herd in Helovia as our own, but we need to start somewhere. Once we claim one land, we can build properly - we simply need to identify which herd is the weakest, and strike." Now was the opportune time to take their first land - the herds were still recovering after the darkness, still finding their feet. It was as though the gods had handed them the perfect chance to stake their claim. "Identify members from the herds and earn their trust. Find out whatever information you can - herd numbers, predominant species, details on their most prized warriors." He looks slyly to Confutatis, wondering if she is thinking the same as he - find out each herd's best-trained warriors, and take them out of commission. "Be subtle, though. We do not want to give any information away about our plans. If you need to actually join the herd to earn their trust, then do so - find like-minded individuals and see if you can sway them to our cause." He looks around the gathered individuals, a motley crew of varying sizes and shapes. "I want each of you to tell me which areas you excel in - do you prefer to fight, to spy, to kill?" Farkas' disappearance means they are short a spy, which is a damned shame. He falls silent, looking to his demon queen to see if she has anything to add.