It was not long after his meeting with the being inside the stone that Shaige's followers had finished excavating the rubble and repairing the tunnel. Crude wooden supports held up the tons of stone above; for now they would hold, but the keeper's dislike of such improvisations would mean that more thorough and permanent reparations would be necessary. Still, now was not the time. The spirit did not let his thoughts stray far from the Klug. Fangir and Soran were informed that the time was coming, so they hastily saw about preparing the army.

Shaige, meanwhile, retreated to his dungeon heart. In the corner of the tiled chamber was a mound of near two dozen slain humans. Their blood was old and stagnant, as evidenced by how the sickening smell of death and decay permeated the room. Still, the Keeper required blood to be spilled into the unholy fountain that was his dungeon heart. Without blood magic, the keeper would be nothing; his powers gone and his soul exiled to the spirit realm. So it was unsettling to have a mere twenty rotting men in place of hundreds of live prisoners, still pure and filled with vigorous blood.

That was one of the reasons that the attack could not wait. The other was that Shaige was keen to see the power that the Destruction Catalyst had promised, and in truth some sense correctly told the wraith that the voices inside the artifact were impatient and would not wait. So it was that the wraith found himself rushing into what was a bold, premature, and dangerous assault. The Mutig tribesmen could provide some details. They also knew that their foes numbered in the thousands, and that their Loas were wiser and powerful enough to actually speak. The Klug village was barely fortified; the women and children hid in some grand temple while the met fought off their enemies in open combat, rather than cowered behind walls.

With a snap of his fingers, Shaige reduced the twenty corpses before him to dust. Their flesh dried, cracked, and finally turned to mere powder as every drop of moisture was magically pulled out and sucked into Shaige's font of blood. Even the skeletons were reduced to dust, as the bones splintered into thousands of pieces so that the blood in the marrow could burst forth. Shaige now had an inordinate amount of blood in his fountain. It was vile and old, yet it was not worthless. Shaige was rejuvenated and strengthened; he now felt in his prime. That would not last. With each spell and passing hour, the blood magic would dwindle. Time was of the essence.

The Keeper left to inspect the army that he had amassed over the past month. There were a hundred zealots, master soldiers that could hardly be considered human at this point. They wore full plate armor, black suits heavy beyond description and thick enough to stop arrows and swords. Despite that, they could march for a day without stopping and in battle they moved utterly unhindered. Though they could have wielded claymores in each hand, they favored to use normal weaponry in the form of swords, pikes, and tower shields. Their magically augmented strength gave them to ability to swing such implements with terrifying speed and force. All the remaining spellcasters, a mere thirty thirty, would accompany their archdruid and chieftain Fangir. To supplement the druids and heavy infantry, Fangir was bringing along a hundred human bowmen, half of the remaining tribesmen. The other hundred would remain in the dungeon, defending it and continuing to work.

There were also three and a half hundred pain elementals that had been rounded up. Summoning them was easy, especially with so many souls readily trapped in Shaige's fountain of blood, so Soran had swelled their ranks considerably over the past few days. The pain elementals were instinctive and difficult to control, driven wild by the ghostly flames that tormented them. Sepulchral wailing accompanied them wherever they went, and their titian orange glow easily gave away their presence. Still, with the ability to drain the life of those that they touched and savagely explode in order to cripple or slay any nearby enemies, they were the best suited to handling the full strength of any defenders.

There were now sixteen shadow beasts, as well. One would have to remain at the dungeon, as losing the last of them would render Shaige unable to summon more without extreme difficultly. Of the remaining fifteen, five would serve as the wraith's bodyguard and the other ten as scouts. And then, of course, the army would have Ifrit, Fangir, Soran, and Shaige himself, all of whom were formidable in their own right. The Tormenter was still on a task of his own, somewhere keeping an eye on the Crusaders' outposts to the south. Ifrit would be closer and far easier to locate, so the wraith would afford the time to locate the rogue being. The Tormenter would not accompany the army, as he on the other hand would be difficult to locate, and his work was best continued.

An abundance of supplies was not needed. The soldiers each brought their weapons and armor, and only carried enough food and drink to last two days at best. Aside from that, there were only two things: torches made from simply coating sticks in tar, and an inordinate amount of chains and shackles. When the battle was over, the Mutig intended to put the village to the torch and enslave its inhabitants. Shaige did not protest; the village was distant and of no tactical value, and prisoners were needed for both labor and blood.

At late morning the army departed, numbering just over six hundred if one counted the pain elementals and the officers. The pain elementals traveled by flight, staying well above the treeline and out of sight. The shadow beasts easily negotiated the forest, and so the ten scouts forayed ahead and off to the side of the main army. 
If there were any Klug scouts of warbands, they would be smelled by the shadow beasts, and almsot certainly meet a grisly death before they could return to warn their kin. The rest followed a few of the Mutig tribesmen that had once been pathfinders, before the tribe lost their village and retreated below the ground. The men had to traverse narrow game trails, cross streams, and maneuver the occasional rocky bluff. As such, an organized march was impossible, the few hundred men simply followed in single file most of the way. There was a long march ahead. It was hardly more than a league as the birds flew, yet the foreboding forest and rugged terrain did nothing to expedite the journey, so it would be dusk by the time they neared the enemy tribe.

Meanwhile, Shaige was not accompanying the army, but rather he searched his own domain for Ifrit. The beast was hardly subtle and seemingly showed a blatant disregard for going unseen, though in fairness it would be close to impossible for a creature of his size to avoid leaving an obvious trail. It was easy for the keeper to find the Mutig's ruined village and pick up Ifrit's trail from there. Taking a moment to examine the rogue being's work both at the village and at the small clearing, the wraith was not disappointed. When the keeper at last did find Ifrit, his arrival was announced by a sharp scent of blood and the reek of death. Such vile smells always accompanied the shadow beasts, and five of the things were bounding behind their master as his bodyguard.

[i]"You have done well, but hunting those rats was little more than a diversion for you. Now we will see how you fare in a real battle. My minions already move to attack an enemy village. You will accompany me during the attack."[/i] With that, the wraith turned and began a hasty journey towards the Klug village. The army had left an hour ago and had in the opposite direction, so it would take a brisk pace converge with them.

______________________

William did not need to open his eyes. The screams and bestial roars were enough to tell the scout that the others were slain. Now he just had to look out for himself, not that he had tried to save them. The guilt was already hitting him, a heavy, sinking feeling in his chest. He tried to keep a clear mind, reminding himself that he was hidden. If he remained in the tree for long enough, the monster would leave and he come down. 

But after many minutes, he still heard heavy footsteps from below. He didn't understand until he heard a heavy, ragged panting from below-no, the sound was sniffing. The scout opened his eyes, and saw the monster below, alarmingly close. Even through the leaves and branches and from fifty feet above, William could see that Ifrit was huge and beyond terrifying. The look confirmed the man's worst fear, the beast had smelled him and was trying to find its prey. From down there the thing couldn't reach him and it didn't look like it could climb. Not that any of that mattered, since it was easily big enough to simply knock down the whole tree. He muttered a few words to Caldor, praying for his life.

A hundred thoughts rushed through the scout's mind at once. He knew what to do. Pulling out his dagger, he began to saw off a few sticks from the branch he sat upon. The sawing sound seemed alarmingly loud to William, but with every footstep of the beast causing the ground to shudder, it didn't hear. A few moments later, William held the twigs in his hand. He threw it away from the tree as hard as he could. It crashed into a mound of leaves a hundred yards away. The rustling was heard by the monster, and it bounded to the source. It only took an instant before the ravenous thing was there, circling around in search for its prey. William hurled another stick, which landed farther behind Ifrit and broke with a sharp snap. The beast, seemingly confused, whirled around. Then, the scout jumped. 

He narrowly made it onto a large branch of the nearest tree. He clambered around the trunk to a branch on the other side, and jumped again. In this way, he moved from tree to tree, praying to Unda that the light rustling above would blend in with the tune of leaves swaying in the wind. After traveling some distance in this way, William heard a frustrated roar in the distance. The beast had seemingly gave up. Or perhaps it was just trying to trick its prey into coming out of its hiding place. Te scout remained cowering in a tree for the rest of the day, long after Ifrit had left.

[hider=Attacking Army]
[u]Forces:[/u] 100 Mutig tribesmen (bowmen), 30 Mutig druids, 350 pain elementals, 100 zealots, 15 shadow beasts (10 scouts, 5 bodyguards to Shaige), Fangir the archdruid, Soran the imp construct (and his 9 imps), Ifrit the rogue being, and Shaige.
[/u]Supplies:[/u] Weapons, armor, arrows, and torches. Vast amounts of chains and shackles. Enough food and drink for another day and a half at best.[/hider]