A large, circular, decorative black marble table fitted to suit an entire council sat in the centre of a fair sized, dimly lit hall. Two figures had taken their seats; one, a man in flowing, black clerical robes holding a dark and strangely ominous-looking book in his hands. Long, flowing silver hair covered a large amount of his face, the rest concealled in an unworldly shadow. A distinct highlight of the being was the single, glowing eye peering out from the darkness in the side of his face that hair did not cover. He sat silently, hair moving gently on occasion in a non-present wind.
The other figure, several seats down, sat in an equal silence. Heavy-looking ebon armor adorned his frame, and a large, four-foot blade was sheathed and propped against the side of his black merble chair. His thick, dark cloak was draped over his seat but not detached from his shoulders. His face was visible; stern and solid, but not without hints of youth remaining. Those sensitive to it could tell that something of him was beyond a human. The many lesser-ranking no-name soldiers standing at attention in the background (or at least those that belonged to him) were more concentrated on his side of the room, either for protection or because the other guy creeped them out.
The long silence was broken by the disturbingly calm and level voice of the book-holding evil Priest. "It isn't very polite... not taking a seat at council."
A disembodied third voice spoke, to the further creeped-outness of the soldiers. "I am here. If I find the need to sit, I will sit. No sooner, or later. As it stands, the rest of the group has yet to arrive."
"It will not be long..." the armour-clad figure spoke. "Our objective may be spoken of then."