Overlords and Guardians; Age of Antagonism IC

Status
Not open for further replies.
Protectorate of the She-Wolf,
City of Blackgriffin...


The west gate was open, traffic pouring in and out of the city as the White Wolf paladins and their wolf mounts that gave them their name escorted the group called the 'Northernback Adventurers' to great gates. Waiting for them was Nadira who looked upon them with unblinking, glowing eyes, "You will be brought to the border, the Orcs you wrongfully attacked and were about to murder have already been set free yesterday. All of you, know this. Your group will be marked, travel through these lands again and break its laws... you will not be spared, I only gave you this warning once because you did not know better and in some... in my opinion, twisted way were thinking you were all doing the right thing." She raised her warhammer and gestured to the open gates, the paladins nodded and herded the adventurers out.

Their leader, his head wrapped in bandages snarled and turned, looking at Nadira, "You are a spawn of evil disguising yourself as some kind of holy champion! We know you for what you are and you will receive your judgment at the hands of the righteous! This I swear!"

She regarded the leader, raising a eyebrow and responded in a calm voice. "You are entitled to your own opinion sir, if the gods take offense at me, I am prepared to be judged by them if they so choose. Now begone, you have been given warning. Next time you or your group commits a offense I will not be so lenient." With that she turned and strode away, having no further interest in trading words with the man, perhaps she had made a mistake in releasing those orcs but he had no proof they had done any evil or crime so to stand by and do nothing would have meant to allow them to be murdered, plain and simple. She would never allow such a thing to happen, she had her principles and code to stood by.

"Well that could have gone better... or worse for that matter." Came a voice from her right, Karhn Fang moved beside Nadira as if he had been there from the start, the werewolf captain could be surprisingly lightfooted at times, then again she had been in thought and it seemed he could read her face as he shrugged and opened his mouth once more. "In my opinion you did well, don't hate orcs myself but don't have any love for them either. Before you came along the tribes that plagued these lands were the worst of the worst. Killing, slaving, they did it all and then you came and put a stop to it with fire and sword. Those orcs dserved what they got, that said. My people and you humans can also commit some pretty dark things for whatever reason, mostly out of greed and lust for power and you put those down in equal measure. Because that's the kind of person you are, delivering justice, to those who deserve it and not swing your hammer around wildly to those who are merely 'suspect' of being. I respect you for that, you are willing to spare what most consider inherently evil races if there is no proof that the members of such races have committed any criminal or 'evil' acts." He shrugged, "Some people might call you naive for that my lady, but me, I think it is one of the main reason we, the people, love you and support you."

She took that all in and nodded slowly, "Thank you Karhn, this is why I appreciate having you be in my inner circle, you speak your mind." She smiled, "And also know what to say to ease my troubled mind when I need it. I admit I was worried at first if I was committing a mistake, saving those orcs... but I am convinced that what i did was right, if I had let it happen, then I would have allowed murder in the streets of a city under my protection... laws are there for a reason and there will be no execution of any being within this protectorate without a just cause or reason for such a drastic form of punishment."

"Well said my lady, now then with that distraction dealt with, shall we proceed with what we were meant to do here?" Karhn asked, "Or shall we move on to the holds of Winter & Summer?"

"No, we shall proceed as planned, this... distraction as you put it, only convinced me that we should do as we were meant to do. We will show these people what it is what they are fighting for and that we seek for those willing to do the same and join us to make this dream a reality. A land united in peace and protected from those who wish to harm it, ready to defend its neighbours if they ask and require aid." The werewolf captain merely nodded and smiled, following the paladin to the center of the city.

*----------*

Moments later Nadira strode into a meeting chamber located at Blackgriffins Town Hall, smiling she inclined her head to the elderly patriarch standing up to meet her, "Governor Harrod, my apologies for the delay. Thank you for receiving me."

The patriarch of the city was smiling wide and placed his hands on Nadiras shoulderpads and inclined his own head, "It is good to see you my dear, what brings our guardian to the city? Besides stopping misguided adventurers for making a mistake, I must apologize for that, if any of the town guard were there they would have put a stop to it-"

"Please, old friend, no need to speak further of it. As for what brings me here. I know you said last time it is not required but I feel like I must, I request your permission to send heralds through your city speaking in my name, asking for recruits for the armed forces to keep up the defense of the realm. I would also like to use the city as a base of operations for a undefined amount of time."

Bobbing his head governor Harrod nodded, "I will summon some of the city heralds to deliver your words to the masses that our paladin protector is asking for souls to join her ranks. As for your second request, we are always happy to host you my lady, might I ask why?"

She turned to the large window looking out to the mountains at which base the city was located, staring at the closest, almost imagining she could see the shapes circling there that were inhabiting the crags and peaks that had given this city its name. "Griffons."

*----------*

At various spots in the city a herald appeared shouting to be heard over the clamour and other hubbub of noises that are part of a city. "Good folk of Blackgriffin I repeat hereby the words of Nadira the She-Wolf, protector of this realm, guardian and champion of all that is innocent and good!

To the husbands and wives, the sons and daughters, all those who call this realm home and are under its protection. You call me your protector, your guardian and I am honoured to be called this. But I do not do this alone, many of the people, your fellow men and women are part of the army that keeps these lands safe from the threats that may prey upon us all.

I call upon you all now, any who might have considered to join the ranks of these noble souls will have the opportunity to do so for the coming days. The only requirements are that you are of age per your race custom and traditions, that you are no older than 40 in human terms and that you know that by joining the ranks of the forces that protect these lands... you might be called upon to fight against bandits, marauders and other brigands... but also forces of darkness and true evil if they ever decide to invade these lands.

What is asked of you is no small matter, dedication, valour and service to your fellow people. All those in the Protectorate and even beyond our borders we are sworn to protect. We do not stand idle if people are in need. Do any stand idle if their neighbours house falls prey to flames? Or do you stride forward to help put it out and rebuild what is lost.

Those that join are among brothers and sisters, shared in common purpose and goal.

I thank you all for hearing my words and those that do not join will not be taken lightly, all of us do what we must to function in these lands and each has their role to play that makes them happy and feel fulfilled.

Those are the words Nadira the She-Wolf wanted to share with you all, any who are so inclined to heed them are welcome to seek out her paladins who are stationed at Town hall and the militia barracks near each city gate."

150 Polearm Infantry - human - 150 gold
50 Swordmen - human - 50 gold
50 axemen - human - 50 gold
200 Crossbowmen - human - 500 gold
40 Knights - human - 200 gold

60 Werewolves - 300 gold

20 Gardeners - Ogier - 200 gold
 
Ukluk Kobold Village; Continued


The tribesmen were terrified out of their minds as the wave of small creatures surged forwards, they may have been cavalry but numbers were a quality all of their own and they were caught without room against the village they'd come to pillage and the Goblin who lead them was the source of that terror the Chieftain saw, and the object of his vengeance.

And so knowing his true goal the Chieftain charged his steppe pony for the Goblin struggling to overcome that unnatural fear he felt in the bottom of his guts the little beast not even making an attempt to escape as his forced rushed forwards and began hacking his clansmen to pieces. "For Justice!" He screamed charging the Goblin before.... not six feet from him, the steppe pony reared and so deep was the Chieftains concentration that he was thrown as the pony bolted in abject terror, it would later be found several days walk away dead from terror and exhaustion.

The Chieftain lay dazed before getting back up and facing the Goblin King with hate searing through his veins like acid, in pain and humiliated, subject to unnatural terrors he prepared his blade to meet the Goblin Kings neck.

---

Kalahadrad drew both of his favoured blades and dismounted from his Spider as he saw the Chieftain move to face him. Let the man think he was going to have a fair fight. The truth was the fight would be anything but fair, even now Kalahadrad weaved his magic into the air lines of power invisible until their completion and Kalahadrad had work to do before he would consider it complete.

The Chieftain charged with scimitar swinging for Kalahadrad's head and he simply ducked under the blade his own blades making deep marks in the Chieftains flesh as he roared in pain beginning a sequence of offensive swings intended to disembowel and then impale his heart but Kalahadrad cast dirt into the humans eyes with one foot and assaulted with his own series of strikes, each one opening flesh.

It took another five minutes before the Chieftain dropped bleeding from over two dozen wounds each one carefully marked as an anchor point for the spell Kalahadrad had been crafting.

The small king completed the spell and the air flared into light as a net of flame and stone laid itself over the chieftains flesh, the lava flowing around his body and the Chieftain screamed anew. And yet he didn't die.

He felt something much more profound eat deep into his body, flay his soul alive. A mental directive and an irresistible geas, a curse. As much as he fought the directive he found himself bowing before this foul beast, celebrating as his own men were slain.

"I name thee Kursed. For that is what you are. Cursed to never love or be loved. Cursed to return to your village and slaughter its people in the name of Khaelesh. Cursed to forever praise my name to all you meet. Cursed to forever seek out those who would flock to my banner. But cursed to never remember these lands. You will live for a hundred days before the curse itself will consume you forever. Begone."

---​

Blightholm

As Kalahadrad and his forces made their way back to the Black Krag they had to pass through the city of Blightholm, Goblins, Kobolds and Skaven working side-by side as Harpies lived in their Aeries above all working. But as Kalahadrad approached the city a silence began to make its way over the place. As Kalahadrad made his way into the city the people of Blightholm moved from his path, some of the more daring reaching out hoping to touch their master, of course such impudence lead to a swift beating by the Goblins protecting Kalahadrad from being touched by such dirty peasants.

They advanced through the city and the whispers began as they headed for the main square.

Kalahadrad's troops began to spread throughout the city and herd people towards the main square where their master waited. Men, women and children of all four races forced before the soldiers into the square.

The Harpies flapped their wings and screamed obscenities at the troops and one tried to shit on them but was brought down with arrows. The Skaven and Goblins fell in obediently as the Kobolds grumbled at the treatment. And then they beheld Kalahadrad upon the main podium in the City square and all fell to their faces in obeisance their skins trying to meld with the stone.

None questioned their Overlord. None showed a shred of recalcitrance once they realised the significance of their presence. Kalahadrad had already begun to weave the magics he used regularly when picking up trash off of the streets for his army. Many of these would have been living on the streets and had nowhere to run when his soldiers began rounding up people for recruitment.

Laying the area with the power of a Shivering Whisper and Something in the Dark he preyed on the fears of his audience making them more receptive to his offer as he stood up.

"You have all been living in Blightholm for many years, for some of you perhaps even your whole lives. You have existed in servitude to me but that is no longer enough. Not a week ago a tribe of Barbarians attacked our farms and the village of Ukluk!" Kalahadrad roared and the people grovelled even more as the fear from his magic settled in over their bones.

"And so I come here. I have gathered you brave souls together here to ask, who of you is going to simply sit back when our brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons and daughters are under attack by the unwashed nomad savages of the plains!" He let the magic begin to very slowly subside, artificially cultivating courage in his people.

"Three meals a day, a place to sleep, the chance to travel, the right to loot and pillage! They are the benefits of joining my armies!" Kalahadrad continued. "They are the right of every soldier under my command!" His words now began to echo within their minds as they opened themselves more and more to him.

"No longer can we tolerate the incursion of those nomad scum! Scum that should serve us as slaves! Stand up if you will no longer stand for it!"

And with that. Most of the crowd rose to their feet.

"KAL A HAD RAD! KAL A HAD RAD!" They chanted his name and their master smiled as he allowed the last of his magic fade from their minds allowing them to find their courage again.

170 harpies, 340 goblins, 370 skaven and 290 kobolds
 
Last edited:
The Realm of the Gorgond Sanctuary,
The mine tunnels of Morian.

"Quick-slay! Slay-kill! All Dwarf-Things must die-die!" Came the squeaking and screaming voice of the skaven warlord who was sitting comfortable in the embrace of what appeared to be a giant mutated mass of muscles and flesh that might once have been a regular ratman. "Boneripper hurry-scurry!" The skaven snarled slamming his staff against the giant brutes head to make him walk faster to the scene of carnage, the Dwarf miners had been on the run for two days but the skaven had finally caught up to them, the smell of blood was filling the tunnel and made any skaven salivate with hunger.

Approaching the scene the warlord snarled and bashed some of the nearest skaven on the head who meekly bowed their heads, one of them scurrying for favour held up a rather large piece of dwarf liver. His reward was the warlord grabbing it quickly and then with a squeaking laugh order boneripper to smash his skull in, silently laughing still as he started gnawing on the meat.

The feast was interrupted however by the fearful shouting and squeaks of scouts that had gone ahead who were now scrambling on all fours as fast as they could yelling on the top of their lungs, "DWARF THINGS! MANY DWARF THINGS!"

Hundreds of armoured feet were marching over the rock floor, graybears bearing mighty hammers, younger clan warriors slamming the hafts of their axes against their shields as they marched with grim determination. The human crossbowmen and glamredhel archers following them with no less determination but the look in their eyes was not filled with the hatred many, if not all, of the dwarves possessed.

In the middle of the Dwarven throng, standing on a palanquin platform stood Thráin son of Náin his hand steadying a great tome on a pedestal in front of him as he read out loud, "-so plagued were they with the vile ratmen that they could not hold out, all were butchered, their need for vengeance their grudge against the vermin never to be quenched! We take their pain, their hatred and fulfill their need of vengeance!

The incursion of warlord Squeesk who collapsed the great Mithril mine of the clan Harkon, killing hundreds of miners, their deaths and the loss of Mithril earning the ratmen a grudge to be carried out by clan Harkon and all its trading partners!

Now lo and behold! The ratmen are here, killing our own of Morian! Would ye stand idle!?"

"NO!"

Came the angry denial out of two hundred dwarves, Thraín raised his mighty hammer and pointed it at the skaven horde which had quickly formed a solid mass of snarling ratkin on the tunnel floor and walls. "Well there they be! For your clan, for Gorgond! For our grudges! Charge!" With a roar the Dwarves charged, sprinting to eagerly smash and cleave in skulls of the vermin violating their tunnels.

The skaven warlord was observing it all, from a safe distance behind his troops, skittering and rubbing his claws together, foolish dwarf-things. They were no match for mighty skaven warlord and gray seer Thanquil! He raised his paws, a green glow tracing aroudn his fingers as he balled his claws and then suddenly spread them, at that same moment the tunnel ceiling started to shake and groan, part of the tunnel ceiling cracking open as large boulders rained down upon the charging Dwarves, crushing dozens in their charge. Laughing the skaven warlord looked upon the carnage he wrought and proceeded to bring more rocks down, apparently not caring that he might end up ruining the stability of the entire tunnel.

He squeaked in dismay when he saw the Dwarf held up high on a palanquin was channeling his own power to counter his earth shattering spell! He snarled as the ranks of Dwarves met skaven and the slaughter began, he was about to hurl more spells at the ranks of Dwarves when he turned, looking confused at a nearby tunnel wall, it was shaking, yet he had stopped his mighty spell so why was it shaking?

The answer came as part of the wall collapsed, revealing dwarves with pickaxes who made room for a leatherclad dwarf holding a axe who narrowed his eyes when he looked at the skaven. "Looks we found ourselves a party lads! The biggun is mine!" He shouted before letting loose with a warcry and charged at Boneripper, with more Dwarves pouring out the new tunnel behind him. "For Gorgond!" He shouted as he leaped with his axe held high.

The armies had collided and battle was joined...

*********************************
Aftermath
*********************************

Bits and pieces of skaven were tossed without ceremony on a pile, to be set ablaze by the dwarves holding torches and oil to drench the corpses with. Thraín had no eye on those proceedings however, he was walking alongside the rows of Dwarven dead, a scribe following in his footsteps. "Dalrok, son of Horgan. Yudia, daughter of Hemli. Ôrtant, son of-" Listing off each name to be transcribed to the rolls of the dead so their clans would know of their honourable deaths.

On a nearby rock, cleaning his axe, was Snorri Taskmaster, his wounds bandaged by Grimbold who was smoking his pipe. "We lost some of our best today." Snorri said, spitting at the head of the skaven warlord which he had cut off himself.

"The mines are secure once more at least, we found the tunnels they breached and have sealed them up." Came the reply from the Gorgond tunnel guide.

"Aye, there's that... and I guess most of us were distracted from todays..." He growls, "Anniversary."

"Aye... think he is glad of that too." Grimbold mentioned with his pipe at their liege and guardian who was still saying out names out loud. "Between you and me Snorri, I hope we will find out where that gobbo filth is hiding and march on him to cut off his head what he did to Gromnir... and still does."

Snorri's only reply was a grunt and a practice swing with his cleaned axe.

Casualties:
40 Axe Dwarves
70 Hammer Dwarves

Morian Mines cleared of Skaven
 
[BCOLOR=transparent]Northern Swamps - Lognom Plains[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]The Titan frowned, his eyes seeming to convey a retracted, desolate, misplacement, as if he were almost, in some fashion, completely absorbed in his ennui. His physiognomy was contorted into what could solely be described as a seemingly facile apathy. To place such a thing in earnest. He was, indubitably, and utterly lost in his what could be called boredom, though, such a term would be overtly simplistic. He had a multitude of operations to participate in, in fact, he should probably perform those operations instead, but, they didn't quite intrigue him, not in the same way that bloodshed did, and so, he was neglecting them, only temporarily, but, undeniably so, he was.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He sat in his chair, a sizable, but straight-forward ligneous chair. High backed of course, so as to accommodate for his colossal height. The chair's wood was dark, and certainly unalloyed in it's making, rather than a compound of woods. Further up was his meal, a large plate, made of a homogenous ligneous material, strewn with bones and a few pieces of meat, white and brown, likely the product of a bird, and the bones contributed to the evidence, a water-turkey was the most probable idea, due to the marshes in the immediate vicinity. He continued brooding for an incalculable amount of time, even doing so whenever his plate had long since faded into the hands of one of his many servants. Ordinarily, he wouldn't allow himself to remain idle this long, but he felt sheltered within the walls of his nigh impregnable fortification. Little to his knowledge however, one of his five Great Mines was being plundered, taken from him by the rampant rodents of the subterranean world.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Approximately One Hour Later;[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]A rider rushed through, his mighty steed's legs trembling underneath the overpowering stress of galloping forth at such tremendous immediacy and speed, especially with such a cumbersome load like a person to carry. The black coating of the stallions hide gleamed with perspiration, his mane, though indisputably majestic on another time, was far from it, matted against his side, further drenched. The rider quickly scatters down, his saunter bowlegged, the cause of which obvious by the blood stains along his breeches and the non-existent saddle upon the stallions top-line. The moredhel oscillating now, positioned externally of the moat as the draw-bridge begins it's descent, guided by unseen hands. Mere seconds after, two cyclopes emerge, directed by a minotaur by the name of Greshellec, carrying with him a poleaxe, though, easily the size of a halberd. "State your business." Rumbles the mighty voice of the minotaur, his poleaxe held threateningly, prepared to swing down upon the all too terrified moredhel as he wrestles to gather himself and further, retain his oscillations. "I..." He stops, swallowing to moisten his weather-ridden throat. "I travel...f..from southern mine..... It's been... Invaded..." He declares and his chin descends immediately, fearing punishment from the Minotaur for not stopping the attack. Rather than an assault, the minotaur waves his hand and the cyclopes wall parts. "Follow." The minotaur states and saunters past, his poleaxe now positioned onto his shoulder, adding to the beast-like swagger. The unnamed moredhel pursues, traipsing timidly behind, not yet convinced he was free of punishment.[/BCOLOR]


[BCOLOR=transparent]Eradicate’s Audience Chamber[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]A servant rushes into Eradicate's place of lounging, otherwise known as his dining room. The servant, a female this time humbly states the matter at hand of the Moredhel Rider, though, she knows not much of the situation and Eradicate stands, the emptiness fading from view, replaced with an all too apparent excitement at the idea of someone needing to see him. It was rare for anyone to have audience with him under unannounced conditions unless the situation was dire, which, this matter had best be of such urgency, else the rider suffer under his "Month-Long Demise." He grasps the handle of his halberd, of which hangs on a viewing rack as he simultaneously lifts up his helm, placing it over his head so as to provide coverage and complete his menacing form. He then pulls on his gloves and gauntlets before marching forth, out of his dining room and towards the Audience Chamber. "What news do you bring me." He asks, his deep, husky voice filling the chambers as he emerges from an unseen door, practicing a rigid, military march rather than a sauntering swagger. "The... The southern mine... It's been invaded..." The feeble Moredhel states quietly, staring to his knees the whole while, "Elaborate." The armored figure of Eradicate declares, sitting now upon his large, stone chair, identical in design to the wooden one within the lounge. The Moredhel hesitates, terror in his already fright encompassed gaze. "The.. The rat people, they came, a lot of them, I was told to b..beg for... beg for your assistance." The Moredhel states in a trembling voice, obviously ready to flee, however, knowing that such an action would be, well, bad for his health. "Leave." states the Titan, the still, unnamed moredhel following suit after a servant as Eradicate leans, considering the Scaven and their known tactics for the moment. He rests after deciding that a Scaven invasion would be high in number, but not thought out, nor fully equipped, short ranged, possibly a few with some sort of combative skill or at least the ability to wield a blade properly. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The Command[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]Eradicate relaxed now that the chamber had emptied and shut his eyes, concentrating on the features of one of his Moredhel captain, Vilex. “Prepare your troops to march to the Southern mines immediately. Take with you one-thousand pikes, two hundred repeaters, and twenty siege engineers, just in case.” He states, “I want you to use your, ‘Peek-A-Boo’ tactics. I am informed it is the Skaven-folk, so, prepare for tunnelers, use their numbers against them.” he states before shattering the link, not one to repeat himself. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He thinks for a moment, deciding who to send with her and shuts his eyes once more, a heavy sigh escaping Eradicate’s lungs as he calls forth the link between he and Gronacish. “Meet with Vilex and march to the southern mines immediately, take with you two-hundred infantry and one-hundred warg riders, though, do not enter the mines unless called upon, you will decimate all those who route. I wish to annihilate this attack as a sign to my power, so as to strike fear into those around me.” He states and severs the link, leaning back. This duo would work nicely, with Vilex’ cunning skill and leadership and Gronacish’ brutality. Surely this invasion would push his name much higher than it was at current.[/BCOLOR]


[BCOLOR=transparent]The March[/BCOLOR]​

[BCOLOR=transparent]With commands given, Vilex leaves her chambers, having been reading, though, she knew not to upset Eradicate, he was known for torturing those who were disobedient, and she wished not to take part in it. Vilex reaches the barracks of the Moredhel people and begins to yell, “Oi, all of ye, arise and enter formation!” She bellows in a surprising mighty voice for both a woman, and someone of her size. Her soldiers quickly scatter from their dwellings, each separate type of soldier scampering into their own separate battalions. “Now, I am in need of one-thousand pikes, now!” She bellows, “One-hundred repeaters, and twenty of you flimsy engineers!” She finishes, crossing her arms now as soldiers scatter in their platoons, only a single platoon emerging from the engineers. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Soon after, she has them march forth, bringing them through the gates, circling round the citadel, and moving towards the southern mine, to which Gronacish, having followed commands and carried them out, had agreed to meet her.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Gronacish had almost no trouble rousing his men, though, the wargs took coaxing, as always, thus, arriving took almost two hours more than Vilex, though, when they arrived, the battle would commence soon after.[/BCOLOR]
 
Last edited:
***
Rhogog - The Hell Fort in the Forest
***
A small field a day away from the fortress

It takes a while for the scouting parties to return, the Imps bringing word that something in the order of a thousand mercenaries were now encamped there and ready to move in days, a report that was more successful than the Succubi, of which only two returned to give word that there were priests in the mercenary camp capable of identifying them.

As one might expect of a force expecting to attack a hellscape. Fortunately the Black Axe has no difficulty raising the warriors expected.

He surveyed the warriors gathered before him, pacing back and fort in front of their ranks. All of them looked eager to spill blood and gain honor. To do battle was one of their ways of proving themselves after all.

"Ormi Seha das sukoren! Ormi Seha nu highte, ormi nohr nu highte! Orna hightenael naby manenour, ga ormi wakli jana!"[spoili]Our Mistress has spoken! For our Mistress we fight, for our honor we fight! Their troops may be many, but we are stronger!(lit. not weak)[/spoili]

With a roar from the troops, the Black Axe started marching, pikemen and warriors in front, while the crossbowmen followed behind.


They would march to just a day before reaching the mercenary army, and then intercept, and if possible, ambush them when they are marching towards the forest.

***
Yorst
***
Just before a large mercenary encampment.
To honor proven with blood and steel

The march was uneventful and quiet or so it seemed. Twelve days of uneventful march towards the town of Yorst before it came into sight. More obvious was the encampment nearly as large as the town with bonfires burning as night began to fall. Mercenaries of various races ate, drank and were merry as priests moved about their ranks giving blessings where they could.

They had stopped just before they would have been discovered by the army, the wardrums silent as they quietly made ready for the night. The Black Axe had already made his decision, and with only a few quiet worlds to a few of his underlings, made his intentions known.

They would stay low until the dead of night, and then charge the encampment silently. Once they had a good headstart, the wardrums would sound. A few of the orcs were already itching to take a few heads home.

And a few of the more enthusiastic orcs were what lead to the sudden problem they had. Getting too close too soon breaking ranks the mercenary camp's watch cried out. "ORCS!" the call went out and the camp broke into a hive of activity as the mercenaries tried to ready for battle.

Though surprise was ruined there was still time to secure victory as many of the mercenaries were still scrabbling for clothes, armour and weapons.

His perfect battle plan was ruined. He had it all planned out to take out at least half of those weaklings before they could react but for those damned young orcs. The Black Axe inhaled deeply before roaring out as only an Orc can. The signal to start the attack.

The wardrums started, a steady beating that could be heard even through the din of battle. The pikemen charged first, utilizing their longer reach to impale any opponents before they reached them, as the warriors weaved into combat, wielding both weapon and rage to kill.

The crossbowmen were spread out, picking off any targets they could find, while some of them were knocking over braziers and lighting things up with torches.

One of the warriors, screaming blue murder while actually murdering any enemies within reach, suddenly had glowing eyes, as a sweet voice whispered in his mind.

The pikemen and crossbows found it hard to fight during the night as the warriors engaged the enemy in even battle as those unready were dwindling in number as they got their weapons and armour ready. But the more mercenaries were ready the harder the battle was going to become. The mercenaries did have the advantage of numbers.

With a vicious roar the Black Axe tore through a few mercenaries, now thoroughly caught up in his bloodlust.

The warrior with the glowing eyes suddenly stopped fighting and started to spasming uncontrollably. A moment later light enveloped him, as his form changed into that of Asmodeus herself.

"Wakli jana, mi hightenael!"

She waded into battle herself, and though this body was weaker than hers, she could still put up a considerable fight. With a loud scream, she breathed a cone of flames through the enemy ranks.

With the warriors holding their own, the pikemen and archers started to work in tandem, the pikemen holding off attackers and the archers firing again at any target of opportunity.

The Pikes and Crossbowmen held their own as they advanced into the camp while the Warriors cleaved deeply into the enemy camp with roars of bloodlust as the enemies, ready or not fell before them. But more enemies were ready by the minute. Even so several hundred enemy mercenaries had been slain. Though forty pikemen had fallen and so had sixty of the crossbowmen to return fire from the enemy mercenaries.

Asmodeus breathed in again, firing off another cone of fire, before parrying an elvish swordsman's attack, and smashing his unprotected head into her knee. Another battle she had to take part in, all in the name of imposing Order to the land. Her wings unfurled from her back, materializing into existence by her will, and with one great beat, took off high into the air. With great speed she dived, impaling an archer with her sword and grabbed his bow and arrow before flying off.

The Black Axe was off to his own again, his shield and axe flying about like a whirlwind, his roar incoherent and loud. None of the people they had brought along dared to go near him to avoid being accidentally decapitated. The pile of bodies he left in his wake was testimony to that wisdom.

The warriors however seemed to do quite well for themselves, their ranks advancing even as the mercenaries started to come out of their initial surprise and prepared themselves. The pikemen and archers were starting to get into their strides as well, though they suffered a few losses.

Still undecided what to do, Asmodeus flew low again, firing off arrows as fast as she could aim.

Unfortunately for Asmodeus and the Black Axe the fortunes had turned, the enemy had regathered its strength and struck back hard. The near two score of warriors were slain in the redoubled assault as well as another fifty-seven pikemen only the crossbowmen avoiding the worst of it with only thirty being cut down. Even the Black Axe found himself pressed when a Werewolf in chainmail rejoined the assault against him and Asmodeus found her host peppered by arrows and was cast out, she was not going to be able to rejoin the assault before it was resolved.

He may not be as intelligent as the others, but he was still a commander, and as a commander he knew he had to get out while the situation was still controllable.

With another loud roar to signal the retreat, he broke off engagement with the werewolf. The drums took on another tone, upping the frequency of its tenor to every half beat, telling the others to retreat for the moment.

As quickly as the battle was joined, the orc army retreated.

As the Orcs and their allies under the Black Axe heard the order to retreat they fell back into the darkness with speed and precision managing at least to avoid further losses to themselves and bring down a dozen more enemies into the bargain.

The mercenaries meanwhile heeded the Priests orders to fall back and reinforce the camp. The Black Axe sees but for a moment a trio of riders bolt from the camp in the direction of one of the major cities.

Snarling, he continued on the retreat. There was nothing he could do about the riders for now. Let them come. Let them come and be struck down by orcish might.

***
Empty field by the forest, illuminated by the moon

The Black Axe only gave the signal to stop once he was certain they got away. It was time for the troops to catch their breath, recover and patch up what wounds they had. Almost as if the Mistress knew, he felt her enter his head and inquire about the battle. Sending her what information he could, she left his mind as he turned to his troops.

"Knaetor ormi!" [spoili]Victory is ours![/spoili]

The troops roared along with him.

"Orna wakli soven, ormi suhoi soven nu numenour koru!" [spoili]We have proven them weak, and we have proven ourselves strong through the slaughter of many![/spoili]

He gave on his speech, pointing out how they were strong, and how they had given the weaklings, the wakli another chance to fight them. Most of the orcs listened intently shouting out and roaring where appropriate, while some of them compared trophies against each other.

***
Rhogog - The Hell Fort in the Forest
***
The Overlord's Bath
She leaned back against the wall, relaxing in the hot water of her bath. Or perhaps it was more apt to call it a pool? It was certainly was very large, more than enough for her and Alena here. Asmodeus relaxed as Alena washed her hair, though her mind was still on the three riders that bolted off from the mercenary camp. She needed more information that was for sure. If the kingdom was moving she had better get as much info as possible. She sent out a message for both her imps and the lust demons. They were both very able to scout and gather information in their own ways. It was a bit hard to talk to the daemons directly, but she should manage. The lust daemons were hardest to talk to however, as they had a penchant to-

"Hey!"

The blonde haired succubus giggled as she jumped back out of reach of Asmodeus' swing. Damned breast grabbers.

Sighing, she sat back down in the bath as the lust daemon made herself comfortable in the bath as well, sitting uncomfortably close, as the flying imp she summoned arrived, tried to land and promptly skidded into a bucket. Asmodeus hoped sincerely they would be able to do this job properly.

Killed:
Aprox 350 of mercenaries
Casualties:
41 Warriors, 97 Pikemen, 90 Crossbows

Sent out all but a pair of the lust demons out into the nearest town to gather information and then spread out, naturally, to other villages and towns to learn about those.
40 flying imps scattered across the area to gain knowledge of the local topography, locations of villages, towns and anything else of interest.
Black Axe and 159 warriors, 103 pikemen and 110 crossbowmen regrouped and still alive.
 
Graim Sinercus
Lord of the Griffon-Riders

Peaks Eternal

As they advanced towards the peaks the Griffon scouts failed to discover anything of note except vast expanses of mountainous terrain and dead land. And Sinercus found himself going in circles for nearly six hours before it became completely apparent that the forester was completely lost and incapable of guiding them from the air.

Shouting to make himself heard over the wind, Sinercus asked the man if he could any indication to his home; they'd have to track the wolves by foot from there, it seemed.

Durrin sighed and pointed towards some smoke coming from the trees several miles away. "I think that be mah families camp."

Sinercus waved to the others behind him, and the fourteen griffon-riders made their way over to where Durrin had directed. Though the trek would be longer, it seemed they had little choice.

After they made their way to the camp Durrin seemed glad he'd gotten that much right until he noticed that one of the camp's elders was missing. "Wha happn?" He asked a woman of less than attractive appearance just unattractive enough to assume she was either his wife or sister... or knowing some of those foresters, possibly both.

"Yugun got taken by wolves like little Merd was." She cried into his shoulder. "Oh lord, please help us!" She bawled.

Damnit, Sinercus thought to himself. These wolves appear to be a threat after all. "We'll need to track them down. My men can fight and hunt, but they're no trackers. Durrin—" he said, turning to the man as he dismounted from his griffon. "Pick up the trail. We'll be right behind you."

Durrin seems to have trouble tracking them, shock or something else it was hard to say but despite his troubles he managed to pick it up inside of an hour.

Sinercus could sense that something was wrong however as they approached one fo the peaks and found mounds of human bones and the sounds that came from within a cave were familiar to Sinercus but he couldn't say how, the answer eluding him.

Thean had the griffon-riders fan out to either side, sticking close together along the cliffside and scanning for any trouble. Unlike Sinercus, all but Nessia remained mounted, allowing their steeds to handle their footing while they kept their arrows nocked.

As they approached what Sinercus could only assume to be the lair, he turned again to Durrin. "Mount up, and stay out of trouble." With a motion of his hand, he directed his personal mount to stay put unless it caught sight of danger—at which point it was expected to fly out of range, but remain in sight.

As for the others, Sinercus had them follow at a slow pace behind himself and Nessia. He wasn't yet certain whether he'd be slaying the beasts or subduing them with the tamer, but for now, it seemed best to approach with caution.

"Come," he said to Nessia, as he moved towards the cave-mouth. "The rest of you—block the entrance."

Sinercus, Nessia and his people managed to advance safely on the cave mouth and what Sinercus saw there would turn the stoutest heart to sadness. The wolves were clearly visible, though now chained to the wall of the cave and Sinercus saw clearly what the source of the problem was.

Deeper down into the cave a large bonfire was visible with almost thirty Ogres around it, though the detail was hard to tell it looked like several bodies were bobbing in a large cauldron as the Ogre Butcher worked on cooking the food.

Disgusting.

It appeared Sinercus was dealing with a problem greater than he had anticipated. With only ten men to his name, a fight against thirty ogres would bode well. He'd have to take advantage of his griffons to take them out—pick them off from above with arrows. Pulling Nessia close, he muttered some directions. "Tell the others to take off and circle above. We won't take out those ogres in a direct confrontation. I'll bring them outside." Looking back into the cave, he paused. "Ride with Thean. I'll have no use for you on the ground."

Nessia nodded curtly before slipping back and spreading the commands amongst the others. Just as Sinercus had expected, she chose not to take flight with the others, instead waiting to the side of the cave entrance to help with his escape, whether he wanted it or not.

With a low grumble of annoyance, Sinercus crept inside, doing his best to make his way stealthily to the wolves. He knew he had a way with animals, and with any luck, he might be able to keep the wolves calm enough to keep them from attacking him. Just in case, however, he made sure to crouch just out of reach of their chains while making small motions with his hands to attract their attention.

While Sinercus did manage to make entrance and even got close to the wolves but on getting their attention the wolves went absolutely bezerk howling and snapping against the cruel chains that bound them the blood flowing freely and their mouths frothing. The largest beast,a huge black alpha wolf looked at Sinercus with more intelligence... and hate.

A depthless hate.

It howled not but strained against its chain and Sinercus could see it beginning to work free from the walls as the Ogres turned to face the howling. The large butcher swinging a dismembered limb towards him. "GET HIM FOR THE POT!" The butcher roared as it lumbered over to a cleaver the size of a horse which it picked up as effortlessly as Sinercus might pick up a knife and fork.

Sinercus scrambled backwards, flinging himself towards the cave entrance. He really should have expected something like this—starved wolves weren't exactly the easiest beasts to reason with. With about as much gusto as he could muster, he screamed "Run!" to Nessia, and saw her move accordingly.

As the two of them fled from the cave as fast as they could, making their way towards where Durrin and the griffon were waiting, Thean prepared his archers for attack, ready to shoot anything big that came out. Shrakleer himself charged up his arrow with as much energy as he could muster, hoping to blast whatever came out first to impede the advance of the others.

The Ogres emerged from the cave in three distinct groups lead by the Wolves who began their pursuit of Sinercus and Nessia they rest looking out into the light. The riders surprised despite the forewarning failed to concentrate on any one target and simply peppered one of the groups two of their number falling. Nessia stumbled as she fell back and found herself the target of one group of Ogres.

The third group however raised crossbows the size of small ballistae and opened fire on the Griffons. One of the griffons and it's unfortunate rider found itself poleaxed by three of the small tree-sized bolts and plummeted from the skies to smack into the ground, if it wasn't dead it was soon to be.

Thean had the riders spread out and concentrate fire on the ogres wielding the crossbows, while Shrakleer focused his aim on the ogres approaching Nessia.

Sinercus, having seen Nessia, rushed back towards her, ready to fight for her survival. Nessia herself rose to her feet and drew her sword, backing away from the ogres and on the defensive, hoping to dodge any attacks they might make. Though her small size in comparison made her an easy target, she hoped at least that the big brutes would have difficulty facing her more than one at a time without getting in her way.

The wolves had Sinercus's scent now and we're going to let him go as they intercepted him from reaching Nessia and herded him off, fortunately not of their all too powerful bites were able to land and do any serious damage but regardless Sinercus was not going to be able to respond to anyone directly so long as the wolves were overwhelming them. Fortunately

Shrakleer was able to put down a pair of Ogres and Nessia was holding off the rest herself lucky that their bulk kept the last eight from approaching her on their own as she slit one from throat to belly.

The rest of the riders were at least fortunate enough to avoid any more impalements on the plus sized crossbows. And a certain confidence was felt over their chances... until the Butcher literally belched a trio of skulls streaming blood into the face of one rider which tore him to pieces panicking the griffon mount sending it winging straight back for the stables it came from.

The wolves all over him, Sinercus didn't have enough space to properly utilize his sword—not that it'd do much use in such an animalistic fight. Instead, he'd have to rely on his powerful fists to beat his way through. With a heave, he pushed one wolf off of him and pulled a knife from his belt, pouncing on another. Attempting to wrap himself around it, he'd grapple the beast until he could get a firm enough grip to slit its throat, all the while trying to shove off the other wolves so determined to maraud him.

It had been years since he'd been in this much danger. And frankly, he wasn't relishing it.

Seeing that Nessia, while certainly capable, wasn't going to be able to hold off all these ogres herself, he decided it was time for something a little reckless. Pulling his sword from his scabbard, he had his griffon dive down towards the ogres in the rear of the group, while he prepared himself to leap from the back of his mount and skewer the damned things himself.

Thean too saw that the fight was not to be won from the air. With two of his eight riders already down, the risk of casualty was still just as great while on the defensive as it could be on the attack. "Griffon-riders!" he called out, raising his arm to punctuate the command. "DIVE! The remaining riders dived down towards the crossbow-wielding ogres, ready t pummel them with their fierce mounts. Unlike Shrakleer, however, they had every intention of staying firmly seated on their mounts, making sure to keep themselves properly strapped in as they fired down at the fast approaching enemy.

Thean himself made for the great butcher with his dive. He had his men to avenge.

Sinercus felt jaws settle into his shoulder and rip down hard as the Alpha Wolf finally got a line on him while around them the battle turned with the Griffon riders turning on the Ogres with power and precision it doesn't take the powerful beasts long at all to help finish off the Ogres while Thean beheaded the Butcher.

The remainder of the Wolves saw what was happening and bolted for the woods as their masters were ripped apart.

Gripping his shoulder in pain, Sinercus rose shakedly to his feet. As the others got their bearings, apparently without any further loss, all he could think of were the men who had died today.

Glancing around, he saw a large form lying in the dirt. He knew it to be the first of the griffons to be struck. Rushing over, he placed his hands on both its body and that of its rider, attempting to determine if they was any shread of life left in them.

Meanwhile, Thean collected a couple of the riders, who promptly took flight again to chase the wolves and shoot them down, if they hadn't already escaped reach.

Thean's pursuit came to an abrupt end when pursuing the pack through a ravine he lost sight of the Alpha of the pack and it was already too late, the beast had succeeded to scramble up some scree and leap for Thean on the Griffin, while the Griffon succeeded in catching the Wolf he was not so successful at stopping the wolf getting ahold of Thean. Griffon, Thean and the Alpha plummeted into the ravine before the Griffon succeeded in winging free, without his rider, Thean and the wolf plummeted into the ravine the former managing to get on top of the wolf just before they slammed into the river at the bottom. Thean struggled, legs broken on impact before his Griffon, loyal as ever, managed to fish him from the river. The rest of his men, concerned at his fall, had lost the rest of the pack in the scramble to try and save Thean.

Rising to his feet, seething inside, Sinercus brooded over his failure. Two men dead. Men he'd practically raised to fight at his side. And against a force of only thirty.

But for now, he still had a job to do.

Nursing his shoulder as best he could, he whistled, summoning his griffon to his side. With Durrin in tow, it gently lifted its master onto its back before continuing on towards the cave entrance where it had all begun.

Wiping the blood from her blade, Nessia saw where Sinercus was headed. "C'mon," she said to Shrakleer, and the two of them joined the others atop their own griffon. Hopefully there would be nothing left to kill inside.

Entering the cave highlighted the true horror of the situation. Indeed. It was Durrins scream of utter despair that brought it to true light. His son laying there on a butchers table in pieces with some of them missing, suspiciously floating in the cauldron. The old man that had been taken could be seen roped to a spit ready to get placed over the fire still crying his eyes out at the horrors he'd seen.

Inside a cage a number of other humans and a pair of elves were chained up. And visible in another area of the cave a number of large chests were laid amongst thirty or so bedrolls.... under which a couple of ogre children were cowering in terror.

Turning to Shrakleer, he flicked his head in Durrin's direction. "Get him out, now." What the hell was I thinking, bringing the man in here?

As Shrakleer directed the grief-stricken father outside, Sinercus and Nessia set about freeing the prisoners. He was thankful that only a child had died—it could have been far worse, and frankly, children were far more easily replaceable than full-grown workers. With a brief second of eye contact, Nessia too directed those who'd been bound within outside, leaving Sinercus and his griffon to deal with the ogre children.

How was he to handle the situation? These creatures would grow to become the monsters that were their parents. They had likely already developed a taste for human flesh, who was to say they wouldn't try again? But at the same time, they were children, and he couldn't very well slaughter them when they were so defenseless.

Dismounting again from his steed, and grimacing at the jerk it caused his wound, he approached the cowering infants. Of course, he made sure not to get too close, lest they see him as a threat, but he also didn't want to loom over them on the back of a fierce griffon.

Knowing that the decision he was about to bestow upon them was likely far too great for their age, he also had little choice. "Young ones, I give you a choice. Those who were once family to you have now been slain. The mountains of the Eternal Peaks extend some distance—those who wish shall be escorted to our borders to find shelter outside our lands. However, I offer something more. You may return with my men and live among us; we will raise you as our own, and should you prove loyal, live among us." Peering sternly into their eyes, he continued. "Each may make his own choice. Those who wish for a new life, stand forth and come with me."

The young scramble back from Sinercus, one wielding the arm of some poor victim as a club and the other pulling a blade from beneath a bed-mat. "Go-way murd-er!" One said blubbering with tears in its eyes.

With a sigh, Sinercus returns to his griffon. "So be it."

As he left the cave entrance, he looked around for Thean. With his spirits dropping even further, he caught sight of the state of his loyal ally. This day was getting worse by the second.
Instead, he gave the orders to some of his griffon-riders, led now by Shrakleer. They were to tie up the remaining ogre children—any who resisted with weapons were to be knocked out cold. Once all of this was sorted out, he'd have some bread brought over and give them the same offer one more time before abandonning them somewhere past their border for whatever fate the future might hold for them.

For now, he went to see to Thean.

The man was certainly not in any kind of good condition, and though he tried maintain some dignity amidst the groaning and sharp in-takes of breath, Sinercus was well aware that the man was in great pain. Placing his hands on the elf's broken legs, he concentrated his magic into mending the bone.

The healing energy works but only poorly setting the bones, it'd take more castings later on to do more, or allow him to mostly heal on his own. Hopefully they would not have to break to re-set the bones.

With the battle now over and Thean tended to as best he could, Sinercus looked back upon the carnage, ready to complete the grim tasks post-mortem. Two men had given their lives today, and for Sinercus that was two too many.
 
The Forbidden Reach, Laekuria

Jean Bartholdt, servant of her master Arlaw Grellok, lead her forces northwards. They were her personal guard, most devoted followers, and those bound by blood directly to her. She had never been one for baggage trains believing in her visions to guide her where she needed as such her and each of her 100 followers had only what they could carry. The sun was now well into the west hovering high over the mountains but they still had sunlight before setting camp would be needed and she would gain as many kilometers on her journey as she could before then. The dark one to the north awaited her and she would bring them back to her master.

As the ... pilgrimage... passed through the rocky foothills Jean finds herself drawn towards a path leading up into the mountains in a northerly direction. A powerful presence many days march to come lay ahead optimistically but Jean felt that it could even been a couple months away her gift uncertain as they advanced into the mountains.

Soon enough the sun was low enough that Jean would be forced to find somewhere to camp for the night. Surrounded by black shale and unhealthy looking trees Jean gave the order to set camp about them. Some were directed to cut down the trees about them for firewood, got the night at least they would sleep and prepare to travel in the morning. A watch was set and Jean set her tent at the center of camp taking time to reflect and meditate on her visions.

Jean's visions are dark and brooding oppressive in the extreme, almost a subconscious call. Certain that she is on the right path Jean knows that she must advance higher into the mountains.

Though as the night ended Jean awoke from her meditations and visions to find her followers in restless sleep, and three of them missing leaving only the belongings they had carried with them as evidence they had even existed.

When confronted on what happened to those who vanished the ones on watch seemed to have a glassy look in their eyes and began to speak of the whispers in the crags, and while they can't seem to describe anything that went awry as she questioned them their stories began to synchronise perfectly towards the end.

"The whispers told us to go on. Go into the blackness. But the blackness came into us and whispered words of..." their next words were illegible, no tongue that Jean had ever come across, but deep and menacing, it was then that she noticed that they'd literally torn their mouths and tongues to even attempt to verbalise the words.

The words were strange, their reactions stranger, and the way the words tore at their mouths. There was power here, more than her followers could possibly handle. Jean knew in her heart there was horrific power here now beyond what most mortals could comprehend to cause such damage.

As camp broke Jean took a central point and called out to her followers, "I compel no man or woman to follow me from this point forth. My visions are my own and what awaits on this path is death for any who follow me no. I cannot order you to leave but I will do nothing to compel you to stay, returning to Arlaw is your own choice, not mine," She cried out these words to her followers before turning to the path once more. No matter what dangers were there for her she knew her god would guide her. She was protected by divinity directly and so no trial but one of flesh could stop her now for her strength in her faith would dispel all others. Failure was to be hers and hers alone.

As she pushed on most of her followers decided to continue with her. Though Jean could not tell whether they were compelled by loyalty to her, or something further ahead.

They continued onwards for another eleven days guided by Jean's senses higher and higher into the mountains the landscape ever worse. And now camping out for the night it seemed ever more oppressive than ever, the foul stink in the air almost enough to gag on now and again.

Taking away the clothe from her mouth she used to block the noxious smell of the land to take a drink from her canteen. She almost wanted to spit the water out to better wash the taste from her mouth but knew each drop in time be needed and stomached it savoring the cleaner feel of her mouth now. Those who had been injured or weakened on their trek where being grouped together not far from her tent and being overseen by fellow followers. On the rising sun she would send them back to the fortress with a handful of others to care for them, their bodies had failed them on this trek even if their faith had not. They were getting closer to her goal, what was driving her forward had be nearing. Even if it did take months she would find it. With that thought she made sure the guards were set once more to look over the camp before retiring to her tent.

As the night settled in howling began to be heard and there was no thought of sleep as they seemed to come closer and closer, and suddenly the screaming began as one of the sentries was grasped between the jaws of a pair of wolf-like beasts the size of horses that tore it in two with a single twist, and behind it three more charged into the camp.

Though without most of her armor as Jean saw what was happening she bellowed out to her followers, "To arms, to arms, formations. Beasts attack."

Her own axe already in hand she charged towards the first beast moving through her warriors as they gathered weapons and found comrades to stand with. To the first on which she laid eyes she charged her axe aimed to crush it's spine in a single blow, the usual weak point of such large creatures. The wolf like beast was too fast and gone from beneath her blow.

The battle was joined and it seemed surprise and the paralysing howls were utterly crippling Jean's followers, more than a dozen of her followers were torn apart in as many moments as they inflicted little more than superficial wounds upon the Omega Wolves. These were great monsters, there could be no doubt to this as destruction was wrought on her ranks. The death brought thoughts of the Wyld Hunt and the Omega Wolves that lead from the van of it.

Not to be so easily dissuaded Jean was if anything dedicated and pursued her target even as it struck at more of her followers, "Form up, infantry square, do not get isolated!" She continued to howl out commands even as the wolves howled cries of their own. She would not let them take down her followers or force her from her goal. She would strike down any beast which attempted to stop her and these titanic wolves would be no exception to that.

The element of surprise and Jean's swift words taking control of the situation her people performed much better, while another half dozen were killed one of the great Omega Wolves was brought down as swords and spear pierced it's hide overwhelmed by the numbers about it while it's death howl invigorating both sides.

Indicating the now fallen wolf she carried on to her followers, "Look how they bleed, look how they die. These beasts may be powerful but are yet that. Drive on, hold your formations, kill them and show your might amongst your brothers!"

Jean herself did not falter in her action as she followed her own words to charge at the nearest wolf. With her axe she came at the beast once more hoping to end it swiftly with a single strike.

The beast seemed little troubled by the attempt to kill it as it and the four surviving Omega Wolves savaged the front line another ten followers dead in their wake, but another Wolf fell beneath the concentrated attacks and blood began to pool.

Then without explanation the Omega Wolves pulled back and vanished into the shadows. The last sight of them being their baleful red eyes watching the camp before vanishing.

Looking over the carnage the wolves had wreaked on her forces she knew that they may take losses but was surprised by what they had found. These were beings of myth and legend, as well as only the beginning. It seemed she would likely lose more followers before her task was done but it was one which must be completed. Orders were given to tend to any wounded and prepare to send them back to the fortress in the morning. In the meantime all but those on watch were to get what rest they could yet, the wolves as well were to be skinned of their furs with those sent back to the fortress as a sign of what they had encountered alongside the tales. In the morning she would set out once again.


-----------------------------------------------

Fortress of Grellok, Haerrell Savannah, Laekuria

In Arlaw's central audience chamber, about the central map which showed Arlaw's territory as well as surrounding lands was Lord Arlaw Grellok as well as his captains and associates of note. The only personages missing were the pirate captain Heathrough, Ponthos Hollodose of the Red Lancers, and Jean Bartholdt the dark seer. It would have taken too long for the pirate to arrive and at the moment Ponthos was away on orders to raid the nearby town of Brackendown.

Looking about the table which included the trader Ikraam and the bandit Thook alongside his various captains Arlaw began to lay out what he had begun thus far, "I have ordered a flyer sent to Tomsheim to meet with the lord of the city and request we meet. I do not know much about this man, Tiny Tom. I suspect he rules through direct might which should make for easy dealings but I will need to know anything you have about this city and it's ruler. The intent is to damage the city and our own forces as little as possible. If we can slay the lord and take his city we will do it, if we can subvert them and turn his men against him we will do it, if we can get him to join our cause in any way without decimating our own arm and razing the city to the ground that is the method we will take so I am open to all these possibilities. I lack only knowledge for now."

Moving around the table he spoke all eyes on him he trailed a claw from Tomsheim to Black Bart's Retreat, "This is an easier target, a city of chaos, weak, without power. A dozen humans, gnolls, kobolds, and harpies have been sent to this city under various guises. Around fifty members total of my forces have been dispatched there to gather information and establish contacts for now. In such a city I have no doubt greed rules first and foremost with power always right at it's heels. We will seize the city with low losses and low damage to the city itself when the time comes all we need is to learn first of it's weaknesses."

With that he looked up from the map, "So that is our immediate goal for now, these two cities will spread our power immensely into more prosperous regions, what news do you bring me," his eyes scanned across the assembled faces though the only one to speak was the caravaneer Ikraam who always had a too wide smile, "I bear little news but some all the same. Someone launched a major raid recently and is coming back with a long baggage train of loot now. It is large enough that most traders in the region have caught wind of it, at Baysus Sound most of the valuables will be sold off in a grand bazaar. I know not who did the attack or what specifically is carried though likely a myriad of goods."

Arlaw looked away and made a minor growl in the back of his throat as he thought, he would want to be at that bazaar but it risked intersecting with plans to meet with Tiny Tom, plans were not going exactly as he wanted but such a bazaar gave him a chance to increase his presence. "I will make plans to travel with you Ikraam, I see much potential at such a bazaar and it will cheapen your own cost of hiring men while ensuring protection." Striding, pacing for a few moments he looked again to focus on the map of his territory and that in it's immediate surroundings before sitting down at the head of the table, "So then, if there is truly so little news about tell me what is known of Tiny Tom and Tomsheim."

At this it was Thook to speak first, "Tiny Tom is a bastard, and niggardly with his taxes. He demands tribute from all the clans and his men are all too quick to enforce it taking their price with steel more often than needed. He ain't a fair one to deal with the deals always on his side of the table and you just accept it."

A vicious smile spread on Arlaw's lips revealing teeth meant for tearing flesh, this was something he could use. If the bandits of his lands were unhappy with the way they were treated and given how the banits ruled the land this was already a weakness that could be exploited, "Spread word amongst the bandit clans that Arlaw seeks loyalty, and find out how much loyalty a drop in their tributes buys. Keep this away from Tiny Tom though he does not need to know of such plotting. Should he fail to accept any potential offering we will simply starve him of gold, food, and manpower"

Ikraam gave a minor shrug, "Little is known of Tiny Tom, those who pry are killed. He claims to be able to press a vast horde into the field of over a hundred thousand men."

At this Darius Meradin snorted, "A hundred thousand mewlings farmers, give me a thousand mounted knights and I will break the back of such an army."

From across the table Ikraam eyed the knight but as Arlaw said nothing said nothing he instead returned to speaking clearly disliking the interruption, "That said, he claims a vast horde but the real danger is a more known quantity, to an extent. A heavily armored minotaur that no man seems to have ever mustered the courage to face. He is truly terrifying to look upon and a clear source of power," At this Arlaw nodded, the minotaur was something he would need to look into as the hand of another power or perhaps real power, maybe even just as he appeared and a powerful warrior with little ambition, "I can offer little else though, I can have a map drawn up of the market district but little else of use."

Sitting back Arlaw growled again in the back of his throat, he had too little to go on, he felt blind as though on a hunt with no scouts. "I have further plans but there is little enough that can be done for now, Thook, you will speak to those who will hear you, bring more to me and I will reward you of course. Ikraam, I have warriors who will be returning from a raid soon enough, when that happens I will give you first choice upon what was seized then I wish for us to head to this bazaar. In the mean time," Arlaw stood once more, placing a claw upon the map tracing the river which ran through his lands to the lake, "This river could prove a superb source of revenue for the transport of valuables. That is why we must take it, spread word through all channels I look for river pirates of any worth and ambition. In the meantime, construction will begin of my own fleet of vessels to ply this route, keeping it safe for my own shipping and force all others to pay for that same right. We must bring eyes on us and consolidate power in all forms on us."

-----------------------------------------------​
Brackendown, South of Haerrell Savannah, Laekuria

Ponthos Hollodose, once a knight in the Drahakan Empire left due to the evil of the land and in his attempts to fix it fell to it more thoroughly than any of his brethren. Leading a cadre of his own blood forged knightly order sworn through his blood to their lord, another 300 horsemen from the savannah along with 100 harpies flying above and 200 kobolds marching along with them. Though he did not share his blood directly with them through their lord all men and women in the field. For two weeks they had marched and on the previous night as they set camp the forward flyers and reported they were finally at their destination.

The sun was slowly rising in the sky as he rode his horse flanked by knights all around into the town. Men came out of their homes cautiously, many with naked steel, ready to fight and defend their lands and their families from the the horsemen who rode about the edges of their town and strode in with impunity. Eventually one man, older than most, wielding a spear, shield, and old battered arm came forward, "Can I help you sir knight?" Despite the honorifics there was now hint of submission in the man's voice. He thought himself an equal to the ears of Ponthos.

Not even removing his helmet he looked down on the man a few meters away and spoke, "I come in the name of my lord, Arlaw Grellok, from the savannah to the north of these lands. He has sent me to offer you a chance to serve under him directly. To feed his armies with your harvest, add to his army with your men, and bask in the knowledge that you serve the greatest leader. All that is asked is you provide what the resources requested and admit your submission to him."

The response of the man was as simple as it was finite, "No."

For a moment Ponthos sat there upon his horse, neither side acting to attack when finally Ponthos spoke, "A pity," with that he charged, lance brought to the ready the old man who spoke attempted to avoid it and bring his spear in to strike the horse but while there was a clear age difference Ponthos had years of combat experience on his foe with his lance catching the man under the right shoulder and nearly severing the arm. Continuing on Ponthos reseated his lance and struck another man, this one though got his shield though the light wood failed to halt the momentum of the strike and instead it glanced upwards striking the man in the collarbone breaking the lance and slaying the young fighter.

His lance broken Ponthos tosses it aside and swiftly dismounts as he draws his large two handed sword just as a pair of young fighters in leather armor come at him. Even with numbers they stand no match the first pair of blows easily parried aside and Ponthos striking down one then another. The kobolds were amongst the villagers now surprising and killing with impunity while harpies descended from the skies on easy prey. Cutting a swathe through the under trained and under equipped townsmen who could not even hope to make any kind of formation with the surprise of the kobold, speed of the cavalry, and ability for the harpies to strike from anywhere. It was a doomed fight the long before it began, still a handful of old men were at the town square attempting to rally some kind of defense even as arrows from horse archers cut down those who tried to rush to them. Slamming his blade into the belly of another young fol who stood before him Ponthos continued his inexorable march. There was only a few townsmen in the center anymore and the focus was now clearly on the old men as minor fights occurred through the village as the men tried to protect their women from the warriors of Arlaw.

Cutting down another pair of men who tried to rush him at last he broke into the old men, he was upon them before they could react severing the head of one from his shoulders while another tried to strike at Arlaw with a blade easily cast aside with a strike from Ponthos's gauntlet. He then reciprocated to the older man by slamming his gauntleted fist into his face and feeling much of it give way. This left only the horribly wounded man who Ponthos had spoken to upon entering the town in front of him. He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead received only cold steel pressing clean through his face and into his spine behind it. The time for words had passed when he had uttered only a single one to doom his people.

Looking about he saw a scarce handful of his own fallen while easily dozens if not hundreds of men were dead. There were perhaps a few men still trying to fight but it was done, harpies flew in the air to ensure none could even attempt to flee while women were being herded into the town square marched over the bodies of dead sons, brothers, and husbands. The looting was beginning in full force, soon every living and item of value in the town would be assembled and marched north. It had not be a great battle as Ponthos had hoped but it had been something to take the edge off the warrior's lust for blood.

Town Casualties:
All adult males dead
400 Adult Female Enslaved, human, elf, and dwarf
200 Children Enslaved
50 Eders Enslaved

Ponthos casualties:
10 Horse Archers
15 Dark Cavalry
45 Kobold Raiders
15 Harpy Raiders

Loot:
Valuables worth approximately 1499 gold
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Scarazar/Wall Border
GLOBAL EVENT 1 BEGINS!
^Post Soundtrack​

lJpeHNq.jpg


The sun began to go down over the horizon as the guards of the Wall stood at bored attention with the occasional archer shooting at something that might have been a target. The cold crisp air of the evening began to roll in with the fog and halflight the temperature dropping with the absence of the sun in the sky and the lamplighters began to make their rounds along the wall lighting the lamps, lanterns and bonfires that kept wall lit of a night.

It took them a little while to realise that the light level wasn't dipping appropriately with the descent of the sun. It took them only a moment longer to realise that it seemed as if the horizon was on fire. Another dozen heartbeats before sentries began running for the signal fires and heavy alarm bells strung along the wall. The alarms began to toll and the fires began bellowing out the red smoke as sentries tossed packets of powder wrapped in paper into the flames of the signal fires. They saw little at first before the marching legions began to come into view their black chain and plate armour of the legionnaires marked with the symbols of their legion.

The commander of this section of the wall, one General Pritus Cain felt the fear in his guts as he recognised the standards of no less than a hundred Legions. And worse. He saw for the first time vast beasts as tall as a siege engine with armoured heads and three vast horns the size of battering rams with vast siege engines on great howdah's on their back, behind them great hunched Giants moved directing the movements of forces in accordance with the requirements of the unseen commanders of the vast host.

It took an hour for the forces to fully move into sight. Wyverns haunted the skies with Harpies and the forefront of the host appeared to be made up of Orcish legions behind which Legions of humans marched with precision and skill. It almost escaped notice alltogether, the thousands of dead marching at the front soundless and bearing armour and weapons with glowing empty eye sockets.

Scarazar.

Pritus had known it at the very first. But it was still hard to believe that the nightmare beyond the wall had finally mobilised again and in such force. Siege Engines and beasts of war marched and he had but ten thousand to hold this stretch of the wall.


-----------------

The Imperator of the Scarazaran people watched from the scrying pool as the first of his hundred armies made contact with the enemy. The first wave in an all out assault on his enemies across the continent. Ten million fighting men and beasts surging forth like a tide to take his enemies unawares. Eighty of the armies to assault the nation of Wall and its vast edifice that had so challenged him.

He watched without emotion as another infant was dragged screaming from its mother to be sacrificed to the scrying pool, its mother beaming with religious ecstasy that her child was chosen of the Emperor for sacrifice.

Nine of the armies moved to storm the Peaks Eternal and another nine marched for Elucidar while the last two headed for the Last Retreat. A storm of death intended to bring swift end to his enemies. To please Khaelesh!

In a moment of orgiastic reverence for the god he served he took his axe and removed the head of the black priest who had just removed the infants ability to cry anymore letting the priests blood mingle with that of the scrying pool. No priest of Khaelesh ever made the mistake of believing that his rank prevented him from falling into the sights and being sacrificed. Especially those that worked close with the Emperor. None lasted long in his majesties presence and he practically glowed with the favour of Khaelesh so none dared ever question him.

The Trigasaurs moved with their siege engines into place as the Scar Giants directed his forces under telepathic direction from the generals who served his pleasure.

The war for the continent had begun.

And as the first war-shot left his weapons of war the Emperor of Scarazar, Aeshlan the Vile could already feel the taste of blood in his mouth. Unaware of the sight of the priests and supplicants fleeing as in his baresark state he began to feed on the corpses of the infants sacrificed for his scrying pool.



-----------------

The Peaks Eternal

The people began to flee as the Scarazaran armies began their surge into the mountains the brave folk of the nation unused to such naked raw displays of force instead of the subtle sallies they had become used to over the centuries. The Legionnaires moved as a great wave forcing their way past steadholds that had resisted the efforts of single legions before.

The Trigasaurs of the Scarazaran forces allowing no town or village to hold them back in their advance. Unprepared the Scarazaran forces succeeded in taking a dozen villages and almost as many towns before they reached the first city and resistance began to be felt again.



-----------------

Elucidar

Elucidar was not caught unawares, their polite diplomatic contact keeping them aware of the Scarazaran buildup through the use of spies and information brokers. But even so it could not have imagined the sheer level of force that had begun to descend upon it and messengers emerged as a flood heading for the boats to beg Greenholm and Solfsheim for aid not even bothering to try the Peaks Eternal knowing on an instinctive level that they too had just begun to feel the hammering assault of the Black Empire.

Forces began to flood towards the Scarazaran border to bolster lines of defence wavering and falling thin as Scarazaran monstrosities break the greatest points of resistances.



-----------------

The Last Retreat

The Last Retreat found itself assailed by the smallest of the Scarazaran forces, but also suffered the greatest under the onslaught. A nation of refugees from the Black Empires depths of depravity, aggression and raw acts of purest evil the people of the Last Retreat had little will to face the horrors again. And so as it struggled to put together enough forces to fight the tide it found that much of what they could gather was only all too likely to flee when the Scarazaran troops turned up on the Horizon.

Only those who can remember the days it was called Ynamor had the spines to stand up agains the Scarazaran aggressors. But without significant aid they too would soon fall and the Last Retreat would truly prove to be the last for those who called it home.
 
The Border between the Forbidden Reach and Pil'lage
Global Event 2 Begins!


OrcArmyGorgoroth.jpg

The city of Abandonhope had seen and survived the horrors that periodically are unleashed from the border with the Forbidden Reach, but had been spared the worst, the wild clans and tribes that infested the reach only sending raiding parties to harass the ramshackle villages and towns whose peoples were trying to make a simple living in this godforsaken nation they called allegiance to. In fact, contrary to the name their city was given the inhabitants were not as somber as most natives to Pil'lage, it had been generations since a warlord had united the wild clans of the Reach to attack their city or some wild monster had rampaged the region. So when one of the great bells of a watchtower began ringing loudly nobody was surprised or afraid, raiding parties were spotted almost weekly. People stopped and started to take notice however when the bells kept ringing and one could almost hear and feel the panic of some of the guards as some of the bells were just being run non-stop, the guard pulling the cord seemingly not stopping.

The more courageous citizens climbed the walls that were barely standing up from neglect beheld a sight that had many not believe their eyes or wet themselves with fright. What they saw was no mere raiding party, the lands were black as far as the eye could and now they could feel the tremors under their feet as thousands upon thousands of feet were set into motion with purpose. The black orcs of the Forbidden Reach had always been seperate wild clans with no unifying leader and yet now it seemed as if all the clans had poured out from the mountains. Abandonhope held it's breath as the column of black approached their walls, some families gathering what they could and escaped during the night, those that remained mustered what courage they had and manned the walls.

The following day the column of Black Orcs... marched straight past the city, heading not deeper into Pil'lage but away, towards the Lognom Plains and the Naedan Kingdom. Observers on the towers reporting that they had seen countless orc women and children among the thousands of orcs as well. It had not looked like an army on the march, instead it had something very familiar.

It took only a moment for the people of Pil'lage who witnessed the enormous orc column what it reminded them off.

Refugees, a mass exodus fleeing something terrible...

-----------------​

Autocracy of Rahn

For a number of days several mines had not been heard from, it was not strange a wild beast or even a wild monster from the Forbidden Reach often came over the border or was even found in a new tunnel and could wreak havoc stopping a mines production. But twelve mines at the same time, this was unheard off and the Autocracy of Rahn began marshaling and founding a force to investigate and clear the suspects infestation of monsters of the mines near the city of Garghon. On the eve the force was to leave great fissures opened within the city, several buildings collapsed into black voids that appeared in the ground and with the sound of mad laughter and howls that send fear in the most courageous of men came forth beings, monsters unlike any that had been witnessed before.

They looked like warped abominations of men, elves, orcs, ogres and who knew how many others. Their numbers were without count and within a single night, the city of Garghon burned, it's population put to the sword and others dragged kicking and screaming into the dark tunnels this new threat had come from. A corruption of the land itself spreading forth with the arrival of these beasts.

It was doubtful this horde would stop at just one city...

-----------------
Laekuria

The city-states were laws onto themselves so when refugees came from the west the gates were closed at first then some of the city lords and councils were told just how many refugees were at their gates and finally relented promising food to those who told them what was going on, the first who told them were hanged for lying when they told about things that were too ludicrous. But as others kept repeating the same tale it forced the lords to believes the refugees and hear them out. Strange flashes of light, like lightning bolts that appeared while there were no clouds out, some claiming they saw the bolts 'fly' over their homes at the edge of their town or city before it curved and impacted on the ground. A shape of metal and flame glowing with unnatural light appearing in the blink of an eye at each spot a bolt impacted on the ground.

Each metal shape holding a sphere, almost like a bubble of soap in which a black glowing orb could be seen. One refugee claimed to have witnessed two henchmen of a local lord getting too close and were... destroyed by the metal thing of smoke and flame, using magical beams of red lightning, one refugee a former apprentice of a mage claimed his master believed the metal monster to be a golem. The metal constructs or golems never stayed long letting go of their spheres in the middle of the city and vanished in another flash of light that created a lightning bolt which shot up in the sky without a further trace.

The soap bubbles had floated in the middle of the air and some brave souls who had fled and touched it before they had packed their meager belongings said it had shocked them.

At the first night the bubbles flashed and simply vanished, leaving only the night-black glowing orbs that were within. Unleashed from the confines of the spheres a aura was felt, striking fear in all who looked upon it, as if the glowing orb had a hatred of all things living. Those few who touched it in a foolish attempt to somehow remove it. Died. Their flesh withering as if years passed, none dared to venture near the orbs after those examples.

Still none of their lords would send riders out, each city-state keeping to themselves and dealing with their own problems after all, some claiming it was the work from their rivals of other cities. The first refugees who had fled on the second day feared it was something dark from the Forbidden Reach... those people were the smart ones.

Three nights after the arrival of the strange flashes of night and the orbs of night-black the dead came pouring out of the Forbidden reach, hordes of zombies, but with no necromancer in sight who controlled them. Vast hordes of thousands marched, slowly but with purpose, straight to the nearest city-state with a glowing black orb. On the fourth night the dead in the graveyards, marked and unmarked in and around the cities rose up from their graves to hunt down the living.

The last refugees to arrive spoke of their cities now being lost and with no idea if the Walking Dead would stop there.

-----------------​

The Spire Kingdoms, Vale, Drahakan Empire and Oro...

Four different nations but a single event happened in all four, a large bolt of lightning flying high in the skies, unnoticed but by a few, those who saw it thinking they were mistaken or seeing it as a dark omen. Impacting, landing almost in a secluded area of each nation, revealing three metal shapes of shadow and flame, baleful glowing red eyes looking over where they had appeared.

Each turning to face a separate direction and began to march, staying away from any signs of civilization but paused only to stop near a area lush with plant life and nearby water supply to produce seeds from hidden compartments on their metal bodies, dark, twisted looking things which almost looked like they should not be able to pop open to let anything grow. And yet hours after they were planted the first signs of something new growing burst forth from the ground.

Some were vines, almost tentacle like that spread and seemed alive when something of flesh and blood touched them, ensnaring it, crushing and tearing animals apart that were caught.

Other seeds seemed to form large trees, sprouting limbs of gnarled wood that stirred to live when they matured, the wood almost like it was burned and with the groan cultivated of eons of pain and suffering these dark treemen came alive. Along with bloated, monstrous looking forms of questionable feminine form that might have been dryads once in a distant past. Together these dark treemen and dryads ventured forth from their spawning grounds, looking for flesh and blood to feast upon.

The things that planted the seeds went unnoticed, a few killing a lone hunter or forester who accidentally stumbled upon one, their task done they retreated into the wilds to watch.

To observe.
 
Last edited by a moderator:

The Mine: Part 1

The Arrival

The commander of the Moredhel, Vilex arrived to the agreed location, not too close to the mines, in case a standing army had formed, but not so far off that her view of it would be limited by eye. Of course, with her telescope, she could see it well enough, and what she saw did not surprise her. The rodent people were known for staying beneath the ground, though, she was not sure if her lack of seeing anyone was good or bad. If she had seen an army, it would undoubtedly be very bad, because that would mean there were far too many, but, simultaneously, her lack of seeing enemies put her on edge, she didn't like not knowing what she was up against. Which, was humorous to say the least as she used similar tactics to defeat a foe. She looks to the sun and then back down again, deciding that the fact the sun would rise by the time the invasion began would be beneficial to Gronacish, of whom, was flanking her currently.

The large Orc stepped free of his Warg and marched off towards the Moredhel commander, a person who he never much liked, but similarly, he never hated. He just despised her tactics. "What say you?" he questions the Moredhel. "I say we have about a three day siege ahead of us, at most." She states, "I am going to send in a handful of scouts and march up my troops, you, spread your own out, I want every one of these rodents to be decapitated and held upon spikes, all shall know not to trifle with our Master." She states and Gronacish, a man of few words nodded, relaying the orders as Vilex sent out a group of ten Pike-men into the mine.

The Pike-men entered the mine without too much concern hoping the close confines would allow them to hold off an attack if it came long enough to fall back.

Little did they know how wrong they were. Entering one of the wider passages they looked around, torches lit most of the passages and there were signs they were still being worked before suddenly a dozen of the rat-men appeared lead by one wearing thick robes and a strange mask.

"DIE DIE!" It roared and cast an object. The leader of the pike-men had just long enough to notice it was some sort of glass sphere before it landed amongst them and shattered. As it shattered half the pike-men fled back from it as a vile smoke poured out. Those too slow began to choke and gag before vomiting blood and falling down dead. The Pike-men bolted for the mine entrance, not pursued by the Rat-men.... for now.

As the five remaining pike-men emerged, scrambling and choking, one of them even vomiting, they rushed to Commander Vilex, panting and struggling for their breath, "Oi, I command a position of attention, now, get there!" She shouted angrily, to which a lone man responded, the rest suffering to much to stand, "What happened?" She growls, staring down the Moredhel pike-men, "T..Thayre was only a few of em, but, they had this round ball, and when the glass cracked, there was this smokey stuff, and it made us choke, and die." he says in broken English. Vilex waved a hand, a dismissal as she backed away and placed a hand over her brow, looking around as she thought.

"Alright, listen here, I need 10 groups of 20 repeaters and 30 pike-men to separate, the rest here will be reserves. Is that understood!?" She calls out to her troops, to which quickly assemble and prepare for another invasion. "Three teams, forward, keep the repeaters in the middle, to prevent flanking." She finishes as her troops march forth, prepared to enter the horrid underworld of which their lives will likely come to a close.

The first team advanced into the mines heart full of fear, fear made worse when they came to the cross-passages and they saw the blood from their fallen comrades, but the bodies and rat-men were gone. They knew behind them the other groups were advancing and chose the left hand corridor advancing deeper into the mines before emerging in a cavern that had been carved out where a wealthy vein had once been. It was then from the dark that the Ratmen struck. Glass globes exploding amongst the troops and rat-men wearing heavy masks and robes running in with stabbing blades and piercing spears to eviscerate the team. Screams rang out through the corridors as the assault tore them apart, for every rat-man they killed two seemingly took its place until finally there was nothing left of the first group but meat and broken Armour.

Meanwhile the second team had advanced down the center corridor and found they too were under assault within minutes, Rat-men seemingly pouring from the walls killing and stabbing far too effectively before they retreated into the trio of corridors leaving the second group, down to only 8 Repeaters and 11 Pike-men to decide what to do next. At least spared the fate of the poisoned wind globes.

The third team had taken the right hand corridor and found themselves advancing past a cavern with a pool of foetid water their attack came these Rat-men frothing at the mouth and charging with globes in hand, the repeaters cut down half of them before battle was joined and half of the vanguard of pikes were killed by the gas before the attack ended and half of the Skaven retreated further into the mine.

The second and third teams halted after the rodent's assaults ended, following the peek-a-boo tactics Vilex had beaten into them. The command was given and a pike-men from each group was set to the entrance, calling for reinforcements, the fact that group a was not present could mean only two things, they had not been attacked, or, they were dead, and Vilex was a cautious commander.

Vilex sighed, shaking her head as she listened to the two pike-men speak, "Send forth 20 pike-men to each group, then I want another 2 groups to follow through, and join up with the halted groups. As for group A. I have a bad feeling, send forth 100 of our free pikes, as well as another group, hopefully that will hold them off or bolster their defenses when an attack does come." She says and crosses her arms, relaxing and trying to think of future tactics, wary of the gas they spoke of, "Actually... Can you wrap your mouths in cloth, and hide your faces, in case it goes through the skin." She says to the men before they march forth. She was all too wary, this seemed even more dangerous than she originally believed, and not a single rat had surfaced. Three days might sound hopeful by now.

As Groups B and C were reinforced they proceeded once forwards and resisted the Skaven attempts to slow them down. Bolstered their courage returned and they cut apart the rat-men like wheat before the scythe losing few of their numbers to clumsy assaults.

Meanwhile the new 'group a' advanced left towards the Cavern that their last unit had been slaughtered, though now there were still the bodies of the original group remaining. And despite the reinforcement of the group with 100 extra pikes it was destroyed even more thoroughly than the first as the poisoned wind globes fell amongst them and the rat-men moved in to slaughter the group, a single survivor, a Repeater wielding Moredhel named Uvannon fled the assault as he saw a pair of huge mutated rat-men that looked as if they had more in common with ogres tore into the forces. It wasn't long before the screaming stopped and silence reined once more in the cavern.

Vilex saw the men emerge and was pleased to see three this time, something she had not expected to occur in earnest. The men arrived, elated by their victories, except for the young male from group A, who identified himself as Uvannon, bringing forth tidings of horrific news. "I will be with you in a moment, Uvannon." She states, taking a few seconds to recall the name. "Group B & C will receive an additional fifty repeaters each, to bolster them once more. Now go." She says, watching the men rush off after her commands, gladdened they don't have to enter group A.

"Uvannon" Vilex calls, waving a finger to herself now, "Come here." she calls out, staring at Uvannon with a curious gaze, "What. Did you see." She asks in a slow, demanding tone. "W..Well, you see... There, there were a lot of them, throwing these... These glass balls, filled with smoke, a lot of people died... I didn't... I didn't see any dead rats though..." He says, seeming confused before continuing, "There... There were also really big rats.. Like.. Ogre sized... They were gigantic..." he states, fear apparent in his eyes, "What were the rats with the globes wearing?" She asks, referring to face masks. "Cloaks and weird masks...." he responds and she nods, "Alright, well, here is the good news, I have an idea. The bad, you're going back in." She says, her eyes twinkling with malice. "Send forth two groups to A, have the repeaters stay at the entrance of the tunnel, and the pike-men enter, keep the repeaters out of range. Am I heard?" She asks and the Moredhel, shaking with fear nods, "O..Okay." He says and joins with the forming two groups as they march to the mine's entrance.

The groups allocated to A moved in nervously fearfully, as the Repeaters waited at the entrance and the Pikes moved forwards a weakened and depleted Skaven Force charges once more, but this time no more globes are cast only the pair of Rat-Ogres and a hundred or so Skaven that were cut down by the expeditionary force before the scattered survivors fell back into the tunnel only a handful of Moredhel casualties in return.
Group B advances into a heavy cavern and finds itself under a constant onslaught by hundreds of the rat-men becoming a pitched battle that lasted too long, and at the end only a handful of the group remained, but every one of the rat-men were dead beneath blades or crossbow bolts.


Group C meanwhile found itself in a cavern with a crevasse running both ways across its center, a pair of wooden bridges spanning the chasm as Skaven launched projectiles from slings and some of the poisoned wind globes as group C responded with Crossbow bolts as the Pikes moved to hold the bridges. A pitched battle that saw few casualties on either side so far.

As soon as the rats from tunnel A had fallen, the men began to shout in victory and their fears were hushed immediately by their victory. They sent out a man as did group B, however, group C's man was late, the commander of the group had obviously been under stress. Vilex awaited, seeming calmer now as she listened to each story. She dismissed Group A's representative with a bolster of 50 pike-men. Next was Group B, of which was harmed quite a bit received another group with 50 extra pike-men, and then relayed the strategy that group A had taken. Group C was given another 100 pike-men, under instruction of separating pikes from repeaters so as to let their range go to use.

"Gronacish!" She calls and the Orc stares, "What?" He answers, "I want you to send in your wargs after the men return, kill anything left alive." She states and the Orc smiles and nods, "Will do." He states.

The battle rages as Group C fought with the Skaven hard, the slaughter on both sides approaching a turning point when the rat-men deployed something. The noise and light roared like thunder, the flash of its brightness burned Skaven and the Moredhel were prepared to celebrate their victory... when the cavern caved in all around them.

Meanwhile group B fought hard against the rat-men pushing them back to some sort of central chamber, vast and wide the could still see the riches in the walls to be mined. But also they saw too a tunnel leading deeper into the world, a tunnel that Skaven were busy at work moving to protect, twenty of their vast Rat Ogres and hundreds of Skaven preparing to turn back their attackers as Group A3 slaughtered their opponents and entered the cavern near group B.

Vilex stood as she heard the thunderous noises of the cavern and saw the dust rise from the entrance, "Whoa now, that's a lot of dust, what the hell happened?" She asks, looking at her engineers for answers, "Perhaps a collapse?" One inquires and she nods, "Makes sense." She replies as Group A3'ss representative, followed by group B's rush out eagerly, though, they stand at attention, staring ahead, though, obviously bursting with energy. "Representative A3, speak." She says and the male starts, "We decimated our foes, but, now we're in a chamber, and there are a LOT of them, coming from a tunnel, group B is the same." he says and she nods, "Alright, what about C?" She asks and group B's representative steps forth, "The shaft collapsed, no survivors." He says and she nods.

"Alright, I want all my engineers to make balistas, large screens, and small screens, further, I want it to be layered. Balistas, repeaters, large screens, pike-men, small screens, pike-men. Do not, I repeat, do not move forward until you are sure they are all in the hole, from there, we will devise a plan to stop the advances." She says, sighing now that she knows things will be tricky, and then, on after thought, "Actually... Only send in another 200 pike-men and 10 siege engineers, I have a bad feeling, Scavens are known for tunneling." She says and the armies move.

The Siege Engines seemed to do little in the close confines of the cave, solid aim was impossible with the swarming rat-men moving all about attempting to reinforce the tunnel from which they'd entered mine. Even so the slaughter of Skaven was heavy and half them and their beasts were cut down while forty of the pike-men were cut down with another twenty repeaters falling to the onslaught.

As the men emerge and go to speak to Vilex she smiles, "Alright, good, go back." She says, "And, tell the siege engineers to come out. They have no worth." She says in a disappointed tone as the men leave and the engineers emerge. "I changed my mind, send in 100 pikes to each entry." She says suddenly, having an epiphany of sorts, smiling as the men march forth, three hundred of them.

The move was punctuated by violence as the Skaven began to fight like the cornered rats they were hurling themselves at Group A and B while those Pikes that had taken over operating the balistas tried to keep their shots aimed at Rat Ogres which were slaughtered out of hand. But still the cost against the groups was high.

Ninety of the Pikes were cut down with two dozen Repeaters falling as well, though many more Skaven perished as well the cost was high and the rat-men were desperate.

Vilex watched the men emerge with a frown, "Why are they not dead?" She asks and tilts her head, "B..Because they're getting more violent..." One man replies, "Then get more violent, don't come out until they're dead or you actually need reinforcements, send in the other 300 men too, invade and slaughter, I want all of them dead." She shouts and the men run off as she grumbles angrily.

Despite the Skaven fanaticism their numbers were simply depleted too far by the battle to resist the moredhel long and were ground beneath the heels of their attackers slaughtered without mercy. A dozen or so managed to flee into the tunnel emerging from the floor one looking fairly important by it's headdress and strange mask.

As the representatives emerged, looking elated with excitement "They're dead!" They shout and Vilex stands, waving a hand at the Orc, Gronacish, who sends in his Warg riders whilst the infantry waits outside. "I am going in. Assemble and be ready to leave." She says and begins to march to the entry, bringing with her 2 siege engineers and two pike-men.

Upon arrival, she tells the engineers to surround the hole with screens and further back, balistas, so as to destroy any Scaven who attempted to exit. "Now, what shall we do about this hole?" She questions and the soldier, Uvannon speaks up, "Perhaps we should search it, we saw some of the rodents escape down there, including one with a mask and headdress.'He states and Vilex smiles at the young Moredhel, "Hm hm, fetch me Gronacish, tell him I have a job for him." She states happily. Seeking out whatever it was they were protecting.

End Results:
Pike-men Sent:1000
Pike-men Alive: 496
-
Crossbow Repeaters Sent: 200
Crossbow Repeaters Alive: 199
-
All Orcs Lived
-
Mine Re-captured

 
Eren Felise
The City of Vemise, Elucidar

It would come as no surprise that the town's walls had been closed, the gates sealed and silence except for the barking of dogs in the morning came to be heard. Not to mention the tell-tale signs of smoke rising from behind the walls, Eren could even recognise the smell of burning pitch.

The Dwarves of Tsiehrednug were clearly a proud folk and intended to make Eren bleed should she attempt to force the matter. The town's brewers were making a killing on this morning.

It's not as though I expected anything else, Eren thought as the sight greeted her and her forces. Frustrated, she ordered her soldiers to start cutting down trees for ladders and rams. She wasn't sure how well they'd do with making ladders - that a town this small would have walls hadn't been expected when she set out - but rams were simple enough.

Meanwhile, while the swordsmen worked, she ordered her two hundred archers to move forward and begin riddling the town with shafts. Calling up a brisk wind at their backs, she hoped their arrows would be able to reach over the walls without forcing her archers to be in equally reachable range from the dwarves.

Regretfully Eren realises that she underestimated these dwarves badly when a ballista bolt stabbed out from a firing slit in the wall and impaled three of the archers, though she was rewarded with a couple of screams from behind the wall these dwarves just didn't seem like they were giving up.

A strange war machine appeared on the walls with a Dwarf pedalling some mechanism and... it began throwing axes at her people before a lucky shot from one of the archers manages to pierce the eyeslit of the helmet the dwarf was wearing leaving him slumped on the machine before another dwarf, taking a great big draught of the mug in his hand replaced him.

Dwarves! She seethed. Dwarves and their machines, dwarves and their drinks, dwarves and their stubbornness!. With a piercing scream far too loud for natural means, she mounted her horse and began moving towards the town. Letting the wind drop, she called for her soldiers to move forward with what rams and ladders they had constructed. The knights, however, she ordered to hold back until the gates had been broken.

Sparks and streaks of lightning began running up and down her spear as she raised it into the air, calling down a tornado upon the axe-throwing machine. They were not the only one with unexpected capabilities, after all.

The tornado rips down and tears the axe throwing machine apart as well as a good section of the wall and gate it had protected. "MUST BE THA TIM OF THA MUNTH EH BOYS!" A Dwarven voice roared drunkenly.

But still, the dwarves abandoned the walls as the troops began to assault the walls. It seemed that several hundred dwarves were holding the town and the towns womenfolk and children had been ushered towards a small, stout, keep at the centre of town.

Her swordsmen pulled ahead as her horse was forced to slowly pick it's way over the rubble of the ruined wall. A glance behind showed her knights moving forward now that the way was clear. But as her horse stumbled once again, she cursed and leapt off to continue on foot. A passing soldier stopped as Eren grabbed his arm. "Go tell the archers to move up onto the walls," she ordered before sending him back.

The stone buildings wouldn't be prone to burning, so she settled for telling her men to kill those that opposed her. Which at this point, was the entire town. She imagine those soldiers that were out of hearing range were already off killing and butchering anyway, caught up in the bloodlust of battle. I should've brought Shireen, Eren mused. Her captain would have reveled in this kind of thing, and had been getting angsty lately from being cooped up. But when she had set out, she had still harboured ideas of the town accepting her demands.

As she walked down the street towards the keep, a door to her right burst open as a pair of armed dwarves came at her. "Time ta die, ya bleedin' whore!" One shouted, clearly drunk. He brought down his axe in a slow overhead blow, which she deflected easily enough, the blade skittering along her forearm without drawing blood. As he stopped, dumbfounded, Eren lashed out with her spear and cut across both his eyes. While he screamed, the other attacker came in with a much more direct side swing. His eyes lacked the inebriated glaze that the other's had held, and Eren only just managed to get her spear up in time, the blow sending her backwards.

The butt of her spear caught the dwarf in the jaw as she retaliated, distracting him long enough for her to spin the weapon around and impale him through the lungs. Leaving the two of them to succumb to their wounds, she gathered a few of her soldiers to stay with her in case more dwarves had a similar idea as she continued towards the keep.

Eren's greater numbers were coming to bear painfully as they cut apart the dwarven defenders but eventually the survivors were all bound up in the keep firing crossbows out through firing slits and throwing rocks from the safety of the top parapet though the archers on the walls were taking their opportunities to kill those. It seemed the dwarves were intent on a slow siege however.

Eren cursed. All this stonework; it was her own fault for not bringing siege engineers. She had not expected this much from a small town. A slow siege would be the only way to break the, but she couldn't afford to spend even more time out this far from Vemise. Not with her defiance of Scarazar so fresh on hand.

Calling her knights to her, she began to lay out her plan. "I have already spent eight days on this nonsense," she began, "and in that time I still have my people to rule. I can't sit around for this siege. I'll be returning to Vemise immediately, and will send you some engineers to help break these dwarves. Until then, keep the archers on the walls and the rest out of crossbow range of the keep."

As her knights nodded and set out to spread her orders, Eren found her horse and left the town behind her. Once a hill left it out of sight, she stopped and concentrated on the air in front of her. Small sparks of lightning began rising from the ground around her and rolling towards her, coalescing into crackling balls around her hands. Then, she reached out, and the air began to twist around her hands. Until finally, with a pull, she tore it asunder, and through the tear could be seen her cast iron throne. "Good to be home," she muttered, and stepped through.

For some time Eren didn't hear anything although word of the Scarazaran invasion had most certainly reached her ears. Indeed it wasn't until a bunch of Scarazaran Slaves showed up dressed as messengers missing tongues and fingers carrying a hamper behind them arrived that she heard anything of her forces conducting the assault on the Dwarven keep.

It wasn't until the hamper was opened and the heads of all the forces she had left there to prosecute the attack were looking out at her their genitals now occupying their mouths and the sign of Khaelesh branded into the flesh of their freshly shaven heads. The one slave still possessed of a tongue stared at Eren as if at an insect.

"My master bids you welcome. His response to your act of hospitality against us will arrive soon enough."
 
The Domain of Ravens

The return journey was uneventful as the servant of Khaelesh left this plane after handing the shard to her the strange influence that had governed the actions of her servants and nearly herself simply vanished only traces remained that from the looks of on the faces of her people when they were all rejoined would have a lasting impact on the memory of what had transpired. Thankfully none of her people had apparently suffered the fate of some of the others that had been caught in it's effects. She recalled seeing the mangled corpses and the crying, insane driven centaur over them as he kept trying to copulate with the mangled remains.

The one memento she took with her from that meeting was wrapped in cloth in a satchel of her horse, she could almost hear it whispering i she concentrated on it, though it might have been a simple trick of her mind, making her hear things when there was no sound. Still it was apparently a artifact of some kind, that would grant a boon of Khaelesh, she was not that happy with it to be honest and was contemplating ways to get rid of the thing. She had been considering breaking it right there and then, telling the handmaiden of Khaelesh to just bugger off but had ignored the thought, crossing a servant of any god was simply that needed more than a days worth of thought.

But that was days ago and they had entered her domain once more, they would have traveled faster if she had used a gateway, like she had done to bring herself and her people to border of her realm but it had been years, it almost felt like decades really, that she had simply traveled, on horseback from one destination to the next. Of course the weather was not something she relished, her traveling clothes were soaked from rain and splatters of mud and other filth of nature were present. Her traveling companions were much the same in appearance. Her Moredhel captains and confidants idly trying to wring out the most soaked parts of their clothing while the driders seemed to hardly take notice o the weather conditions or what their appearance was.

They approached one of the gates of their destination, Gennevë stared up at the gate seeing the telltale signs of Moredhel repeater crossbows peering out. Their small party of seven was a unusual sight to be sure, four cloaked individuals with three drider matriarchs was rather odd as they got closer they were halted by a mix guard of human and moredhel, the guard officer a human male approached cautiously a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger. "State your name, home of origin and your business to the city of Hemoacre stranger."

For a moment she was stunned, she had thought that up close he might have recognized her but it seemed her appearance, rain-soaked and muddy obscured more than she thought, she started chuckling, lightly amused at first before she laughed out loud with mirth, shaking her head and laughing a little bit more as the officer snarled, perhaps thinking he was being mocked. She raised her hand to stall him as he began opening his mouth, perhaps to order his people to take her and her party prisoner or open fire, she had no intention of finding out as she reached for the hood of her traveling cloak and pulled it back, revealing her head and face fully. "My name is Gennevë, Mistress of Ravens and I hail from Raven Perch in the city of Sanguinus. As for my purpose here, I feel it is time to collect the tithe of flesh from this city, since it falls under my protection after all." She smiled wide seeing first the look of wonder on the guard captains face and then see it turn into a pale mask of horror as he realized to whom he had been speaking and in what tone. She chuckled once more and shook her head, amused as she continued, "No need to apologize guard captain, you were merely doing your duty and I expect you to continue doing so. I require one of your men to escort myself and my party to the city council hall."

Seeing the guard captain bowing and turning on his heels sharply to carry out her request kept the smile on her ace, being on the road like simple travelers has it's adventure but being back in the comforts of civilization, not to mention to be around people who obeyed and treated her like the Mistress of Ravens was something she had missed dearly out there in the wilds.

______________________________________________________
Study of Lord Ernst, lord steward of Hemoacre.
______________________________________________________

"Is it that time already? Truly?" The aging lord Ernst looked at the calendar a shivering hand straightening his glasses. "Well I suppose it is, my apologies mistress, of course your right to the tithe of flesh is recognize, my apologies for not making any preparations."

Gennevë, refreshed and fed with a good meal, courtesy of the kitchen staff in service to the elderly lord steward of this coastal city. "It is quite alright, I actually was near these parts due to an other errand over the border, I simply figured it would speed things along if I were to come in person and to visit a dear old friend naturally."

A weak smile appeared on the older mans face and he nodded before wincing and coughing, pressing a handkerchief to his mouth till the coughing bout ended, she noticed to red spots on the cloth but said nothing as the lord steward took a brief breather, "Old age, har, I suppose some would congratulate me for not succumbing to sickness or a blade as they had said I would in my youth, sometimes I wish I had died young, especially these last few years." He shook his head and looked at the Mistress of Ravens, "Are... are my daughters well?"

She smiled warmly, reaching out to lace her hand on his and giving it a light, comforting squeeze. "Your daughters are fine young women my friend, they serve me well still." She let go of his hand and leaned back. "I really could not have asked for two better handmaidens to serve me so dutifully."

"You are kind to them my lady, the git you gave them." He coughed again and chuckled wryly. "At times I wish I would have been blessed as such, though... I think it is better I was not, they would have died if you had not blessed them like you did." He reached for a pen and started scribbling something down, a few minutes later he reached for a small bell and rang it. Moments later a servant came in to which the lord steward handed the parchment he had been writing on. "A proclamation to be read out loud at the busiest corners of the city boy, the Mistress of Ravens is asking for those to pay the tithe of flesh and join the ranks of the Dead Soon To Be." He said solemnly and with almost a hint of reverence.

The servant widened his eyes and stared at the woman in the chair opposite the ornate desk of his master, Gennevë just smirked, amused by the wonder she saw in his eyes. Bowing to his lord quickly he took the parchment and then bowed to Gennevë. "What is already dead never truly dies." He murmured.

So the priests in this city were at least doing their jobs from the way the boy uttered those words were her thoughts as she kept smiling and inclined her head graciously. "And what lives will certainly die." She answered him in return. At a cough of the lord steward the servant jumped bowed once more and hurried out of the room to carry out his task, "It has been a while since I personally visited this city, is it not. Your boy there seemed quite surprised and shocked to see me."

The lord steward chuckled, "I suppose so my lady, last time you were here I did not require that cane to move."

Smiling she stood up and took said cane to hand it to the lord steward as he came to his feet, offering him her arm so they could walk together. "You look quite dapper with your cane my lord, a flash of the past of a handsome lord I once knew as he selfishly offered his daughters to be my handmaidens. But let's return to your home since you offered me your hospitality, in a few days I will head out, back home at the head of the tithe of flesh."

He patted her arm and smiled, "So you will, do remember your old friend my lady, you may have your secrets and powers but I think even you can always use a loyal friend, at least for the time that is left for me." They spend the rest of their walk to the lord stewards home in silence, Gennevë already thinking on what was required for the days ahead.

______________________________________________________
Some time later...
The Tithe of Flesh has gathered.
______________________________________________________

As time passed it indeed seemed the city of hemoacre had not been graced by her presence in recent memory so when the proclamation came to collect the Tithe of flesh that Gennevë, the Mistress of Ravens, herself was present most questioned it. She held a series of public appearances however, always flanked by her trusted Moredhel Aides under the protecting watch of Arachna and the 2 drider matriarchs, the sight of the three massive driders perhaps even gaining more attention that Gennevë herself.

Together with Deathwalker they also held a grand service in the great Cathedral, praising the Dead God and again mentioning the Tithe of flesh for the Dead Who Will Be, asking any of the faithful to join and take up arms in the service of Gennevë and by extension the Dead God who made sure to grant those worthy to the hallowed halls of the dead, naturally.

Sure enough volunteers poured in, those who were deemed suitable were given a signing fee and those that did not send home due to sickness and in some cases because they were far too young and were told to return in a number of years to enlist in the Dead Legions.

At the day of their departure Gennevë was at the head of the several hundred strong Tithe of Flesh, smiling as she saw Deathwalker intoning a chant of the departed among the new recruits to help them accept in their role as part of the Dead Who Will Be. The crowds that had gathered was part relatives and part those curious to see this procession leave their city.

She turned to Sasha, Serena and Arachna who like her were part of the head column, nodding to each of them as she rose up in her saddle raising her arm. "We march for Sanguinus! We march for home!" And with that she led her horse out of the gate, followed by her commanders and the the booted feet and hooves of the hundreds that followed, making a long column to traverse the lands back to her home.​
 
Fortress of Grellok, Haerrell Savannah, Laekuria

Marching in triumph they came with Ponthos Hollodose clad in steel at the head, flyers had been sent ahead to let it be known of the victory. It was not a tremendous victory but it was the first that had been in too long. Many of those who had not been chosen to go lined the outer walls to watch the approach and were not disappointed by the sight. Almost the entirety of the force sent out had returned and as the forward most cavalry approached the main gate of the fortress behind them trailing out could be seen hundreds of hooded slaves bound together and guarded by outriders and kobolds. There was some cheering and hooting seeing the loot as it was clearly predominantly female slaves though many horses could be seen weighed down with items of worth.

In the central courtyard on a raised platform sat or stoof Arlaw along with his captains save for Jean who was away on her pilgrimage, Ponthos who only now was returning, and Striga who as Ponthos road up to the platform flitted down beside Arlaw from amongst a group of her harpies. "A shame, it seems no men of appropriate age were captured," Striga looked over the slaves as though they were butchered meat to be assessed only for how they may be consumed as she walked around the platform wings now bent behind her.

"No doubt they fought to the death, a feeble attempt but an understandable one," Nodding to Ponthos while speaking sidelong to Striga he beckoned the warrior up to the platform, "When a man such as Ponthos arrives at your home it is unlikely he comes with good intentions. I myself was wary of him from the moment I saw him and am thankful for my lack of trust at the time."

At this Striga scoffed while she continued to stride about passing behind Arlaw continuing to watch the slaves who were now being assembled in rows and organized tearing apart families to properly categorize the loot. Before Striga could continue though Ponthos approached Arlaw taking from a satchel a roll of papers, "Lord, I wrote some of my travels and what I encountered.

Taking the roll from him Arlaw handed it off almost immediately to Komeodis who would no doubt scrounge every bit of information from them and perhaps add to the map. For now though Arlaw had a single concern, "What were your losses?"

At this the marks of triumph disappeared from Ponthos's face, "Twenty-five riders, forty-five kobolds, and fifteen harpies."

At this Arlaw growled in the back of his throat and bared his teeth, "I did not expect you to encounter a cadre of mercenaries along the way Ponthos," the sarcasm dripped vehemently from Arlaw's words.

"I offer no apologies, they clearly had skill with resisting raiders in the past and as we did not take them by surprise they had time to prepare," Ponthos was not cowed by his lord's words and met his stare blinking slowly as he locked eyes.

There was truth to what was said, he had in the past taken much land by simply marching up and ordering all to bow. With his attention elsewhere and his warriors needing to go without him they could not count on the same successes. The same mistake would not be repeated, his voice was a deep growl as he spoke, "Then we will not make the same mistake again. An empire is not built by merely winning, next time."

At the mention of a next time a malicious smile spread across the lips of Ponthos, "When is next time, my lord?" Greater deference had returned to his voice now as he spoke to Arlaw.

"Soon, I want to spread word of a bounty of slaves here, we will give time revelrie and to let flesh merchants head this way. We then strike out in all directions," almost all the captains were now clearly listening intently as Arlaw began to speak of his new plans, "It will not be a single simple raid. We will grow no power from that, all of us will go forth leading a force of our own and either combine to strike at larger targets or individually at smaller targets. We will sweep the lands of those who do not serve me and bring them here in chains. In time this will draw me enemies, large ones powerful ones with their armies at the ready. They will be butchered on the open fields about my fortress and then we will go to their homes and claim it for my own." Tightly all around him now were his captains claws, fangs, and blades ready. This was what united them here, this hot blood, the one beating heart of greed and domination.

Dropping down from the platform he walked down the rows of female slaves to were the elf women were tied together sitting on the ground, he grabbed one and harshly pulled her up to her feet though she struggled to keep her balance and only remained standing due to the grip Arlaw held on her. With one hand he held her while with the other he inspected her forcing her head this way and that. With golden hair, pale skin, and emerald eyes she was the most appealing of the slaves, "I think I like you slave, we will see if you can bear me a son." Hearing these words she simply went limp and began crying. Letting her fall to the ground he signalled to a female human and gnoll who had been beside the stage before and as they hurried forward he began to walk away, "Prepare her for tonight for I celebrate myself," with that done he then gave his last order, "Relieve the watches today and tonight, those who wish to go into the city as well, all are relieved this day for celebration, let the revelrie commence!"


-----------------------------------------------

Sitting about the grand map again the captains had been assembled alongside Arlaw though now they had others, a handful of humans, representatives of the many refugees from the north who were streaming away. Arlaw himself was leaning forward in his chair looking intently at the man who stood apart from the others. He had been with the latest and apparently last group of refugees for no more had been sighted and if what was told was true then no more could be expected. "So, you saw nothing but undead. Nothing directing them and they only seemed to be trying to go further into the city and killed anyone they encountered," Arlaw was giving the man no leniency with his plight and had kept the questioning harsh and continuous.

"Yes... my lord. The only direction to them seemed to be that they were heading to where the lightning had struck before." The man was clearly unnerved and seemed to be almost dead on his feet, but Arlaw had to know everything he could and sadly almost no information that made much sense was out. Strange bolts of lightning and then undead rising and overwhelming is mass numbers with no necromancer in sight. No controller in sight and the sheer volumes spoken of. Arlaw exhaled slowly while he thought, flyers had already been sent to cities to shelter the refugees but keep track of them and keep them in one place if possible. These refugees could be problematic, killing or enslaving them was possible. "Uhm, my lord, when will we be free to leave?"

His musings interrupted Arlaw looked at the man who took a step back. Pushing back from the table and standing up Arlaw looked him up and down before responding, "You and every single living being which comes through my gates are allowed in. That said, you enter my lands and you understand it is indeed MY land. If you choose to serve me and serve well then you will be rewarded, your families cared for, and guaranteed a better life than you could expect from the other city states who would see you as a burden. If you do not choose to serve me, then I cannot guarantee your safety and you would not be free to live in these lands under my control. I have heard the other city states are hanging refugees alreay though," The man gulped and took another step back and Arlaw gave him a predatory grin, "I will give you time to think on it, now get out of here and spread the word of the offer."

As soon as the refugees were herded from the room Arlaw began to laugh, it was a full open mouthed laugh, the horrific blood freezing laugh of the gnolls that turned the hearts of their enemies weak and haunted the nightmares of their enemies. "This is superb, perfect. Mindless hordes descend from the mountain just to our north. An enemy with tactics is a dead enemy," Looking about his captains he began barking orders, "The planned raiders will never be, send flyers and riders out across this country to every city-state. Send word I have a way to stop these monsters and require the resources of as many cities as possible to do so. Veroes, go north with as many strong backs as you can, dig a trench deep enough that should a man fall in he would break his legs and cover as long a tract of land as you can, that will then the numbers. Darius, assemble the siege engineers, all of them and begin plans for field siege weapons, catapults and trebuchets which can be pulled or pushed. I know such weapons exist and i want to know when we can begin constructing them. Kuklo, pitch, oil, tar, flammable liquids or ways to light solids on fire and launch them I want to know how much we have and if we can get more swiftly. Erskana, I want horse archers to head north and scout the undead, take arrows they can light on fire, see if that aids to bring them down against normal or broadhead arrows. Striga I wish harpies to try the same, I want to see if these undead lack the ability to strike at range if so I want harpies and horse archers to harry them and bring down as many as they can. We will annihilate this zombie army and take an entire nation is a single stroke with this. If all works as it should, this will be what brings us to greatness."

-----------------

It had been only a few days since the refugees had stopped arriving and now over 200 had been assembled in the training yard in ranks now bruised and blooded. These were the ones who had volunteered to serve Arlaw through combat and join the ranks of his army. Today was the day they joined their lord through blood having fought one another to become the sergeants of their respective squadron. Despite the mock fights being non-lethal each warrior bore many wounds for no warrior could lead his brothers if he had never borne a wound and so it was ensured that each had bled freely particularly if they were to lead those around them even if it meant facing many at once in combat.

Standing surrounded by the new recruits Arlaw brought his hands up, "Before you may have been warriors, soldiers, mercenaries, killers, fighters. In the past you may have been many things, or even nothing. You have never before been joined in blood as you will be now. Now, turn to your brothers about you now and embrace let your blood flow to him and his blood flow to you. Some hesitantly, others not, each squadron of men that had been formed now embraced as a knife was brought out. To each new sergeant a blade was handed, with a fresh blade he slashed his forearm before handing the knife on. Each warrior slashed their forearm with the same blade in their squadron before grasping their sergeant's forearm and letting their fresh blood from a fresh blade mix. Each warrior would be tied to each other through their own blood and the blood of their sergeant. With each warrior bound in their squadron each blade was brought now to Arlaw who one at a time slashed his own forearms one time after another, "See now how you are bound as brothers in blood you will all be bound to me in blood through your brothers!" To each new sergeant he grasped their forearms letting his blood mix with theirs fully, "Feel my blood and through it feel my heart. Be bound across a thousand warriors through me, let my passion, my hate, my fury, my love. Let everything I feel be felt, these are now your brothers but through me this is your family, your life. You are all one with each other through me, we are a future through unity, one heart, one goal. Now go forth and celebrate with your brothers who you are now bound to and know that none can be closer than those you have shared blood with today."

20 axemen, 30 swordsmen, 60 archers and 50 dark cavalry
40 Gnoll Warriors and 10 Polearm Gnolls
 
***
Rhogog - The Hell Fort in the Forest
***
A meeting room with a long table. Asmodeus sat at one end, surveying her servants.
"AHAHAHA~ How many people did he lose?" The fetching drow male laughed again to himself. "Bet Orthir won't dare to show his face for at least a month."

"Silence Ianur! Any losses to the Mistress' forces is naught to laugh about." The girl, who barely reached up to Ianur's chin, snapped at him. Turning to Asmodeus, Eltea adopted a much more cheery tone, a genuine smile lighting her face. "Don't worry Mistress. I will make sure those losses won't hinder our progress in any way."

"..we're not here to discuss this... are we?" The third member in the room, Ueniee, mentioned that fact nonchalantly, trimming her nails with a rather sharp looking curved knife.

Asmodeus looked at the letter, her expression betraying none of the worry she was feeling. The letter from one of her more outstanding villagers, plus what she could confirm from listening to various people around her area of influence, detailed some rather strange happenings near them.

"Mi lopé, we now stand at a strange point of our journey to our goals. There are.... there are strange things happening all across the borders near the Reach. Furthermore, it seemed to be advancing and expanding its influence. Given our proximity to the border, we are very much in risk of whatever is causing this. Eltea!"

"Yes, Mistress!" The elation Eltea felt could plainly be seen on her face. "I'll do anything you want me to. Anything."

Trying to ignore the way Eltea said anything, Asmodeus continued. "You are to stay here with me with a hundred Warg riders. Keep them on the alert so we could respond quickly to any crisis. Ianur!"

"Yes, yes, my Mistress." Ianur put up his boots on the table, leaning back against his chair. "No need to shout."

"Take all of the demon soldiers plus 300 from each of the orc division. And Ueniee?"

"Yes, Mistress? Are there people to be tortured?" The Knight of Diamond's expression changed little, but Asmodeus could already smell her lust. Diamonds did like torturing people after all. Even her lover was into that sort of thing, though he preferred to be on the receiving end.

"Not now. But prepare to scramble some troops if the drums sound. With that, all of you are dismissed."

With a solemn salute, the all of them exited the room. Ianur went off with a strapping young drow, locking lips but for a second with him, while Ueniee presumably went back to the dungeon for her fun.​

***
Black Axe's camp
***
"Yes, mi Seha, I will do so."

He sat down again, sharpening his axe. So he and his troops were to entrench themselves here and intercept the incoming mercenary army, while waiting for reinforcement from Clubs. Black Axe hoped to meet the werewolf again, where he could fight him in one on one combat. Hopefully he and his army could hold out long enough for reinforcements to come. Standing up to his full height of 7 feet, he started roaring out orders, starting the soldiers on entrenching their current position. It was a good bet the army would come by this route, and if they didn't, the entrenched position would double as a base of operations where they could launch raids on the incoming army's supply lines and other targets of oportunity.
 
Zehi'n the Desert General:

The Land of Zara-Heart of the Desert: Introduction

Zara, a dry, mountainous land in the Autocracy of Rahn. The caked floors of the Fallen Pass, a long, wide area of canyon, were home to an unusual sight. A mounted man, dressed as any knight in shining armor would, heavy armor, helmet, and a lance at the ready, staring down at his opponent. The other man was a camel riding elf, Anoredhel to be exact, dressed in a much more modest outfit, leather armor for protection and a spear with an unusual point to it.

Suddenly, they charged at each other with full fury, each intent at hitting the other with their polearm of choice. Just as the two were just about to hit each other, the elf dodged just a bit to the side with his camel and sent his spear horizontally. The human was blindsided, missing entirely and being punted to the ground.

The elf made his camel come to a standstill, before removing his helmet, revealing his face, a youthful face with black hair and green eyes. The human gets up, revealing his face as well, with brown hair and blue eyes, then walks over to the elf and comments "Encindal, I don't think you get how this jousting thing works, you're not supposed to dodge to the side!" Encindal gives a cocky grin back and says "Oh Harad, you know I'm not one for these fancy rules. The forces of evil certainly aren't going to charge in a straight line!" He then laughed "You'd better remember that if we get into a real fight!"

Just a few feet from the pass, laid a magnificent sight. A large cathedral stood tall in the midst of the desert, the Heart of the Desert. Surrounded by a wall, it protected the many people residing within; they were of many different races and from all walks of life, yet they all treated each other with respect. It was a prototype for the society the Guardian hoped to create. On the top of one of the balconies, a Naga stood, looking quite beautiful by most standards, black hair, blue eyes, and a green snake like body. Behind her, a dwarf in full plate stood, chomping down on some beef jerky, he was a short man, brown eyes, brown hair, and a long beard.

He turned his head towards the Naga "Seems Encindal's giving him a hard time again. I can practically see Harad's face turning red from here." The naga then replied "Yes Legnar...I'll never understand those two. They should be training, not engaging in fisticuffs." This elicited a laugh from the dwarf "I don't know what you mean, this IS their training!"

Then an Ogier climbed up the steps behind them. She was a fetching lady, by Ogier standards, having braids for her red hair. Her green eyes saw what the commotion was about, then she said "Oh not again...Intami, can you call them for lunch?"

Intami said nary a word, instead she grabbed a piece of parchment, wrote down some words, wrapped it around an arrow, and shot it towards the two. In just a few seconds, the arrow hit the rock wall of the canyon, upon which Harad unfurled it, and read it aloud "If you two are done spanking with each other, food is ready. Please do keep fighting though, I do enjoy having extra portions!" The paladin crumpled the note, threw it away, and motioned for Encindal to follow him to the cathedral.

At the mess hall, a large contingent of men and women were served small plates of food. It wasn't much of a feast, but at the same time it was not a particularly tight ration either. At the far end of the room sat a large man in full turquoise armor, his helmet gazing across the room. It was Zehi'n, the Desert General, a Guardian of relatively small renown at the time. He wasn't eating right that second, as he preferred to wait until everyone else ate before retiring to his private chambers. Beside him was a gruff looking man, but wearing a simple white robe and sandals. He sipped his tea, before saying "Sir, it's quite a fine meal, why don't you enjoy it with the rest?"

"Allan" he replied "you know I cannot do that. I must keep this illusion up, for the good of everyone." Zehi'n resumed his vigil, but Allan kept nagging him "You can't keep up the illusion forever, better to do it sooner when you can control it rather than later when you cannot..." Mildly irritated, Zehi'n muttered an order to the chef to prepare his meal, then retired to his room

"I don't think I'll ever understand that cub." he said, before returning to his meal.
=========
The Land of Zara-Heart of the Desert: Beginnings

Later that day, Zehi'n was found reading books in his library. As of yet, he did not have much of a plan for how exactly to spread his fame. He would have to make a name for himself soon, but none of the current options seemed that appealing. Invading Laekuria or the Joakan Empire was out of the question, and taking down their raiding parties might make the impending invasion to Rahn come sooner than later. No, he needed an enemy that had little chance of retaliating, yet would cause his name to be known.

It was then that the courier dropped off the Eternal Tribune, the local newspaper for the land of Zara. The courier then said "I think you will find it interesting today. The people down south think they're being invaded."

"You do not believe they are?" Zehi'n said.

"Nah, Rahn has too many troubles already, if we were the victims of another invasion I'd start thinking the gods lazy!" the courier replied.

Zehi'n shrugged off the reply, this particular courier was well known as a bit of a firebrand, and he knew better than to stir up some contention. Dismissing the courier, he read the paper to see what the issue was in full detail. They horrified him, people being dragged down into the earth, an army coming for everyone. At the same time though, he saw an opportunity.

It was at this time that Allan came in. "I heard some rather distressing news, the---oh, looks like you already know."

"Yes, I do." Zehi'n said, folding the paper and placing it on the desk. "I want an immediate response to this threat."

"Certainly, but I don't think we can pull it off..." Allan said with a bit of unease.

Zehi'n then looked at him with a glance that probably would have been that of anger if his face was not concealed. "And what do you expect me to do? Lie down and hope the problem takes care of itself?!"

Allan put his hands up and said "Now now, that's not what I meant. I mean that our forces alone will not be sufficient. However, if we do some recruiting along the way, then not only will people flock to your cause, but you'll also gain a good relationship with the Legion."

Zehi'n cooled down a bit, smiled, then said "Good. I want you to send a messenger to the high priests, see if the gods have any input on this mess. In the meantime, I'll write a letter to the King of the Autocracy, and see if he cannot spare a few soldiers from the legion to combat this menace. As for you, I would like you to call down all the men into the Cathedral. I wish to give a speech before marching."

Allan was about to leave, when he was stopped by Zehi'n. "Wait a second" he said "now that I think on it, it may be necessary to close this gap, but I know of no way to do so? How would you recommend proceeding." Allan thought for a moment, then said "Actually, I think I may have an idea. Make sure you bring the catapults with us when we march."

"...Excellent idea." Zehi'n replied "Do you have anything else to add?"

"No Sir. I'll get started on it right away." Allan said, before bowing and moving to get everyone gathered together.
 
[spoili]A short fluffy post. Nothing important to the plot to be found here, just moving the characters along.[/spoili]

Graim Sinercus
Lord of the Griffon-Riders

Peaks Eternal
Iolaus, Coelum Vigil

Thirty-two warriors stood at attention upon a steep tower looming over the highest branches of Sinercus's Keep. Alongside them were thirty-one loyal griffon mounts, and a couple civilians, weeping.

The top of this stone tower was flat and without parapets, taking the form of a large circle. Those gathered stood side-by-side along the circumference of this circle, facing in. At the center has been erected a large funeral pyre, composed of equal measure dry wood and wet. Three bodies had been lain upon the pyre. Two men, clad in elaborate armour in the colours of marigold and goldenrod and made of a softer metal than would be ever used in battle. One man's face was open to the world, his eyes gazing unseeing at the sky above him and his red hair cascading across the wood beneath him; the other, who had been disfigured in battle, bore an equally elaborate helmet, with a jagged visor and a thin slit for his eyes. Both were on their backs, with their arms lain over their chests, gripping a bronze arrow. The third body was that of a powerful griffon. Surrounding the three were arranged various flowers and gifts, hand-picked

These were the three lives taken at the conflict with the ogres, and the time had come to honour their sacrifice.

Raising his hand to call the civilians to silence, Sinercus took a small barrel of oil, uncorked it, and poured it over the bodies of his comrades. Stepping back, he then allowed Thean to come forth. With his legs still in need of healing, though assured that he would suffer no permanent damage in the long run, Thean required the support of one of his troops—a woman named Gladha—to stand. She was at his left, holding him up with his shoulder, and he bore a torch in his right hand. Hesitating at the edge of the pyre, too proud for tears, he cast the flame onto the corpses before returning to join the circle.

The fire did not take long to spread over the wood, and quickly began to consume all that was left within it. The wet wood released a great pillar of smoke, signal to all below to mourn.

Those gathered remained atop the tower, waiting the few hours it took for the flame to die down and the heap to become naught but ash, blowing out into the mountains with the wind.​
 
Status
Not open for further replies.