The peddler was pulling odd things from his pack, extolling each as he laid them down – one shoe that changed colors, a knife carved from wood, a mummified bird. “And this,” he said, pulling a 1 foot square box of stone out of his pack, “is all the friends you will ever need.” He opened it up, showing the carved stone statues of warriors inside. He took one out and stood it on the ground, where it changed to flesh and blood, stretched, then pulled the sword from its sheath and saluted them with it. “An army in your pocket! For a mere thousand gold! A bargain!”
The High King is dead. He died on a quest to find the stolen Crown of Destiny. As he died, he activated the ability on his armor, Fly To The Four Winds, which randomly transported his sword, Cut-Steel, and his shield, The Shield of Hope, to far-off places so they would not be taken by his foes.
A fantasy version of the Klan, where it's "Grand Wizard" really is a mage, and a dangerous one at that. Instead of hating blacks most of all, they hate non humans most of all (although they are no friends of black people either and certainly don't let them join.)