(OT)

 

Ka-Thrall climbed the stairs atop his mammoth warbeast to the open terrace above. Feeling the humid night air lay against his hot flesh he sneered at the surouding forest. He would burn it to the ground but it would not stay alight despite thier hottest efforts. .

 

A half crecent of moon shone brightly thru the few thin clouds giving him a clear visage of the velvet tree tops below.

With cat-like vision his one eye surveyed the waves of troops around him.

 

The steady drone of crushing limbs upon soft loam reached his ears. Astral Trolls, thick bodied dwarves, deadly kreen, powerful Muls,  immense half giants, fleet footed elves, savage Hell-orcs, conquered slaves, the growing  legion of walking carrion dead, and all manners of un-natural beasts from a number of lower planes made the body of the swelling ranks.

The Weremacht had supplied them with enough force to repel any resistance sent by her enemies to stop them.

 

The impossibly long train of mauraders filled his hardened heart with an anxious pang as he watched them level another settlement with the efficiency of army ants. Consuming everything and leaving no flesh alive they didn't slow thier caustic march.

As soon as the last rite was uttered by the necromancer bands the bones of the dead squatters rose to fall in behind the Horde joining the shambling remains of all the others they had destroyed previously on this continent.

 

Soon He would set his engine of war on yet another enemy. But this time it would be a matter of importance. Amagato was involved with these villagers. Finally he would see the old mans face crushed under his spike-nailed boot. The thought nearly aroused him causing him to hurry thier considerable progress progress.

 

 

Unconcerned he rose from the rough staircase, The Trolls of the Astral worlds do not have the power or intellect that I command Warchief. Holding up the inverted talisman its lead construction reflected no light making it appear as a dead slug of metal in the form of a reversed holy symbol.

 

With a practiced movement the Warlock  unfurled a scroll from apparently thin air. Slowly shifting to and fro on the back of the walking warbeast the Necro-priest begins to read the words from the dull-orange flesh scroll.

His words call the lightning and wind as the sharp syllables raise in pitch and tempo. His voice becomes a revolving scream as he calls up a tempests gale from the calm sky.

The air answers with a carpet of black-green clouds that leave just enough opening for the moons illumination to touch upon the trembling scroll.

The leather parchment in ravensclaws hand bursts into red flame but it does not consume the paper nor his flesh

 

Ka-Thralls laughter pierces the stinging hail as the many tornadoes begin to form and lower to the ground...

---

 

...far away in the fields outside of Elm shaded village the dry grass bends in the suddenly stronger wind.

 

Amagato strains to notice any change in the horizon but detects nothing.

 

Trusting his instincts that somthing is abrew He whispers to his allies the free winds of the four origins and hears of the disturbance in thier Chi confirming his fears.

 

The old man reaches into  his oversized sleeve and pulls the polished steel bead from its interior. Looking at it long and thoughtfully he decides to take his chances. He has carried this tool of the enemy for man years not knowing its exact nature.

 

Raising a vertcle hand above his head he brings it down into his waiting palm shattering the bead. The plume of explosive force takes him by surprise as it sends a gyser of blue electricity a mile into the air.

 

High above it shatters the sky in the form of a flowing umbrella of crystalline light before it dissapates into a blanket of glimmering dust tah falls back to the earth as sparkling blue snow. But upon reaching the grass it fades into nothingness.

 

Again he invited them with whispers, Come old friends. I suspect an end is near. but what will the new beginning hold I wonder?

 

Issuing a shrill chattering Toshi barrels into a deep pocket while Lockheed hovers behind his ear speking in a burt of bird like whistles.