Kilune frowned at the dust that the horses kicked up as they walked by. She was in agreement with Keith, it was rude to just gallop by with no reguard to those on foot near them. She glanced to Keith and grinned chuckling at his remark.

"Keep up? My dear human, you forget I am of elf blood. The chances of you leaving me behind are very slim. Darest I even suggest that you keep up with me.." She held one hand out and whispered something in elvish. The sound would be too low to understand her clearly, though the dirt that had plastered them would lift from their bodies and float off beside them before harmlessly dropping to the ground. "You're welcome, Commander."

As they walked, Kilune adjusted her armor slightly. She slid a band around her right arm back into place and tightened the clasp on it. Stormy eyes settled on Keith. "What is our first destination?"

Draxis looked down from his mount at a shade spy. “Milord, Azarth and his drake armies have intentions of marching through the Elvenwood as a quick means to reach the Armanian Capital. What word shall I send to my brothers among the drakes?” The shade spoke as it materialized into existence. “Tell them to do nothing, we shall hurry our efforts here and accelerate the inferno. The drakes and their king will be pleased that we have cleared the path for them and that we shall be the unstoppable spearhead that drives before them, routing the enemies before Azarth can claim his victory. He thinks that he will get to claim the land that I will rend. He has never been so wrong. Go, Shade, go and tell your brothers in darkness to keep on their path and follow the drakes here. All they will see is soot and ash and the wheel tracks of my death machines.” Draxis spoke to the spy and looked ahead to the already blazing forest before him, not much of it was burning yet, as the forest was very vast, but still, a large portion that was in front of him was already being turned to ash. “Send our ghouls to tear down the trees, send the abominations as well, send our might to rip the forest from their roots and use that wood to construct a battering ram for the elf kingdom. We will use their precious trees to batter down their doors and show them how weak and pitiful they are.” Draxis told one of his commanders, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames that devoured the trees. Moments later the sound of axe and claw striking wood could be heard and the falling of trees and cracking of timber polluted the air. “What a surprise for Razgar and Azarth this will be… and that Yeti and his band of savages… They will know the true might of the Legions of Felwind and know that we are to be feared greatly.” He spoke as a evil smile spread across his lips from under his helmet.

Not long into the siege did Draxis hear, and see beautiful arrowheads flying at him and his troops. “Ahh so they’ve noticed, it’s about time that my actions have been seen. Release the Lichhounds, send them after the elf scum.” He spoke as he nodded to the beast masters in front of him. Each master held several different horrid beasts at their commands, and each one was positioned in such a way that they would be protected under the cover of the meatwagons. A foul roar was heard as the evil dogs ran though the hordes of undead, crashing into the flaming forest. Minutes later the agonizing screams of the elves could be heard and the yelps of injured hounds accompanied by them. A few moments of these screams passed when suddenly they became closer, as if the orcs were pressing forward, when in truth, they were screaming and running into the legions on fire. It appeared that the Bone Wyvern Riders had been providing air support for the hounds as the foul and wretched roars resumed and the crunching of bones could be heard everywhere as the hounds set in for their meals. “Let the ghouls go now, the abominations can handle the building of the battering rams.” Draxis motioned to the commander once again and looked to his Dethsworn. “Once the main front has been vanquished, we will ride in my comrades… and we will be like a sweeping death, claiming their lives for the Bone Stitchers to resurrect their pale and putrid forms to join our ranks.” The chaos of the battle ensued and the shrieks for help reached all the ears of his army, sending them into a frenzied charge towards the forest to hack the elves limb from limb. The calls of the undead ringing out into the nightly mists.

Villith hated the fact she and her people had not been tasked with destroying the elves. The dark elves had long possessed an enmity towards their arrogant brethren. She had been sent to watch Draxis, not necessarily to interfere in what he was doing, but at least one dark elf had to be present to witness the rapacious destruction of the heartwoods and the slaughter of their kin.

Villith liked the way this Draxis operated. Her own people often made use of their fallen slaves as expendable foot soldiers but this was something else. Their own slaves warriors were little more than groaning zombies lurching towards the enemy. This Draxis somehow managed to instill his undead warriors with martial prowess, ranks holding aloft shields as they advanced and providing cover for those behind.

Unfortunately their opponents were elves. All the fancy columns and formal lines would be near useless once they broached the treeline. Battle formations didn't work well in underbrush and uneven terrain. The flames being dropped into forests by the wyverns was more a worry as far as Villeth was concerned. The desiccated flesh of the undead did not deal well with fire. Then there were the siege carts, how would they get through the forest? Villith was interested in seeing that.

"The attack goes well Draxis," Villith hailed the undead lord by name. Sure as there were devils in the nine hells she wasn't going to refer to him as a superior. "However, the deeper you enter the heartwood, the more resistance you will face."

Villith was a tall, lean elven sorceress but even with her height she had to look up at the hulking eldritch form of the ancient undead king. Beneath long lilac coloured tresses her pale white eyes, lacking pupil or iris, looked him over. Yes, he certainly looked a formidable combatant and Villith was certain she wouldn't want to engage him, not with her long slender limbs and lack of armour.

Draxis stared down at Villith and smiled once again to himself. “Ahh one of the mysterious Dark Elves. Your kind holds a loathing for these highborns. I’m assuming you’ve come to join in the siege with orders from Razgar, you you come alone to seek your own special revenge.” He spoke down to the woman from his mount. She was fair, and beautiful, for a mortal being, and reminded him of his days as a mortal himself. He would be glad to have her in this fight, for she seemed competent and had an air of magic around her. “A sorceress? I can smell it on you. I have plans to batter my way through these forests. My beasts and creatures are tearing down the very trees that your enemies so enjoy and we are using them as weapons against them. My brothers in arms are not mere soldiers. The elves cannot stop the seething tide that is the restless walk of the dead; we know not pain nor hunger nor sleep. We know not what death means any longer and only long to taste destruction. My brethren cannot be slain by their blades, not anymore… Not now that my master has shielded us from them. As we speak, Baphomet, my great lich lord, is covering us in his dark mists and shielding us from their magics.” Draxis spoke with confidence as his legions teemed through the forest, crashing through trees and knocking them down. “My warriors are not the common undead that plagues the countryside outside of my realm, young one. Mine are of stronger, darker magic. A magic so evil and so full of malice that they are made nearly whole once again, a magic that makes them fight with an unholy fervor.” Draxis removed his helmet, to shot the wispy ghostly form that surrounded his physical body. His spirit lingered on him and held his old, rotting flesh to his bones, the pale old form of his mortal shell clung the blue mists that surrounded it and in that mist you could see his true, human face and body. His strong jaw of his spirit form lined the withered and sunken flesh and muscle of his physical one, showing this Dark Elf woman his true form. “We are not some shambling un organized mess. We fight with all the fierceness and fury that death can offer. Not tactics or walls or magic forests can hold us or stop us. We are an endless tide and we grow evermore powerful with each fallen foe. We desecrate the very ground we walk and we cause chaos where we step.” He reared his steed to face her and showed her the other half of his face, rotted through to the bone, his pale white jaw bones glistening in the fire. Draxis motioned to his catapults and spoke once more. “These machines are meant more so to storm the castles of the humans and to tear them from their decadent seats of ‘power’ and give them a taste of the dirt that they tried to bury me in.” He spoke with malice in his voice, a sort of evil glare in his eyes and a twisted grin on his rotted face. “Now, my Dethsworn, we ride into battle and will take down the elves defenses ourselves, to prove to this Dark Elf woman that the might of the Felwind Legions shall not be questioned.”

"Oh, I know you would..." said Arman as he was seemingly disappointed on how she thought of him. He didn't want to push this too far so he let it go as she would never forgive him. "But this is not about me. It's about the people of our kingdom and other allies. It always was. And yes ... The Griffins. No one knows where they have their nests, as they live in a community, like us. I do, however, know the legend that shall aid you in your search. It's not really a legend, but let's call it that way." Arman motioned his servant to bring him something. Nodding to him, the servant disappeared in the room behind the throne, returning after a brief time, wielding a glorious sword, which had a blueish energy passing up and down the blade. "This is the sword of the first Armanian king. He was the first one to find and have spoken to the Griffins, turning them into his favor. Back in the day, he won the war against the undead due to their help. That's why the undead were not prominent until the latest events." he coughed a bit after that, not being in the best of health, before continuing "Anyways, this blade shall help you find the Griffins. It is said that wielding it at dusk in the Valley of the Fallen, where the great battle took place, it shall illuminate the path, leading towards their location. Although only if wielded by one of a pure heart." He then nodded to the servant, who walked towards Arathel and offered her the blade. "Do not let it fall in the wrong hands. It is a powerful artifact and it needs to be returned as soon as the task is done."

Keith chuckled "Do not get too ahead of yourself, elf." as he walked, noticing that the overcoat is clean again. Sighing with relief, as he knew that he won't have to spend an hour or two brushing and cleaning it. "Now that's useful." he looked at her and felt it hard to say thanks to an elf, so he just turned back and continued walking. "Our destination is the Razgar's iron ore mine, not positioned too far from our own. We shall head there and hide, waiting for them to dispatch their caravan, which'll be headed towards their capital city. After following it a good distance away from the mine, so we make sure the guards of the mine will not be able to assist them, or hear their cries for help, we jump out, slay the guards and capture the caravan." He then formed his hand into a fist in front of him as he walked. "Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Possibly even past that saying."

Villeth resisted the urge to shudder at Draxis' true face. While she had seen zombies and corpses before, she wasn't quite used to a a powerful figure being unattractive. Lolth's priestesses were often as beautiful as they were deadly. Letting nothing show on her face she considered his words. She had already noted the martial skill of Draxis' warriors but what irked her and what she wasn't sure what to make of were Draxis' boasts. While he certainly was an indomitable force, his faith that one demi-power could press itself against an entire pantheon of gods? The elves had an entire host of gods, including Corellon Larethian, a greater power that had plucked out the eye of Gruumsh, the great god of the Orcish people. These were not to be taken lightly.

The dark elven sorceress watched one of Draxis' ghouls uproot a tree. It was slow going, particularly later, when the trees became as thick as cottages. As one of the ghouls found itself filled with arrows, Villeth had to admit, the greatest advantage of the elves, their supreme accuracy with arrows, was of little use against Draxis' troops. They were every bit as incredible as those brought back by the Zin-Carla, a powerful magic granted by Lolth to bring back it's greatest warriors as intelligent obsessed revenants.

Still, on all this she kept silent as Draxis gave the order to mount up. This Draxis seemed to have something of an ego and a fragile one at that. She'd encountered the type amongst the many matrons of Undraeth, the cavernous city below the mantle. Still, she was glad for the opportunity to slay some elves. She turned to her riding lizard, and drew her long fingers along her mount's neck, caressing the smooth scales. Yes, today was a good day for killing elves.

"Tell me Draxis," she said, thrusting a quip in his direction as her lizard did an excited quick circle, "Why all the armour? From the sounds of it, you're indestructible. You could probably kill thrice as many of the long-ears if you could move faster."

“The answer is simple. Intimidation is as much a part of combat as speed and strength. I wear this armor and its gruesome designs to show the truth of what they face; an indestructible and unrelenting force that cannot be stayed. The elves may have their gods, but our lords of undeath and the demonlords of the afterlife are on our side young one. I am but their messenger, to deliver their cruel fate to them. The elven gods and the elves themselves have no time left on this world and they too will perish as all must.” Draxis spoke as he began his ride towards the forest, passing his boneweavers in the midst of their spells, weaving a terrible magic to bind the crippled bodies of the fallen elves together to make towering undead behemoths held together with the dark intent of their magics and what little of the elf spirits were left in the bodies. “I have many tricks up my sleeve that have yet to be seen or used because the true enemy is not these elves, I was simply told to get rid of one of Razgar’s fears, your people would have been better suited for this, I have no doubt as they know the forests without having to pave your way through them, but do not underestimate the might of the teeming hordes of undead. We are tenacious as anything that breathes.” Draxis spoke as he raised his blade and felt the deathly chill in the air as his Dethsworn riders let out their piercing howls, each one of the riders commanding their own unnatural force that would be a sweeping tide over the elven fortifications. With this howl, the line of riders swept into the tree line overtaking the lumbering flesh giants that were now joining the ranks of his undead legion, each one standing nearly half the height of some of the tallest trees deeper into the forest. The riders cut down and elves in their path, leaving a trail of blood and bodies in the inferno behind them. “Little Dark Elf, we have yet to show you what our elite can do, for you only witnessed the strength of the lowliest of the legion. The Dethsworn and I are of a different caliber, we hold ancient, long forgotten magics and weapons, things that the elves fear, which is why they have been as bold as to send their assassins and warriors into MY lands. The know what will come of my arrival in their home and they fear it, they know the death they are now waiting for, the Grim Reaper has come knocking and looking for these old foes of ours and the Blade of the Lichborne will drink their souls and fuel my power more so.” He divulged this unto Villith and chuckled as he did so. “The ghouls and Boneweavers may have their strength and cunning, but they lack the power to weild these ancient dark things, we Dethsworn, loyal to Baphomet and all the lords of the underworld carry the weapons of true evil. One carries the Pestilence itself, another holds the True cold of Ancient Winters, I hold a Soul Drinking blade and we all are masterful of our given weapons and magic. Each of these are powers so old and so great that the Elves quiver in fear that the full might of the Dethsworn may even be too much for their great ‘Pantheon’ for these powers are even older than those gods themselves and hold a more arcane and terribly sweet magic that have brought nations of past to ruin on their own. Only once have all of the Dethsworn rode together before this day, and it brought great devastation at great cost of many of our riders, but we have since learned from those mistakes and do not carelessly enter into single combat with powerful kings wielding great ancient blades.” He spoke of course of the day that the Griffins aided the humans in Draxis first attempts to destroy the humans… he was foolish and weak and not in complete control of his powers then… of course he also was not Baphomet’s favored servant either and could not control his own army that he had assembled. A few moments passed when nothing but fire could be seen before them and finally the thundering thuds of the great battering rams against the gates of the elven city within the forest could be heard. “We are close dark elf, you may get to taste their blood afterall.”

Villith had no idea where all this talk of gods was suddenly coming from. Maybe this Draxis was a religious sort. Villeth had become a sorceress simply to avoid becoming a priestess. The mere thought of serving a nebulous entity that spoke through omens and through prophets or oracles was anathema to her. Lolth was an even more jealous goddess than most others, affording little in the way of freedom and she had thus chosen the path of sorcery. Even if the choice had cost her position in the family. Then there was his propaganda. Elves had been walking creation long before humans, deathless and immortal. Their magics were older than anything Draxis might have. Sooner or later, when the elves rallied, things were going to get- interesting.

Following behind Draxis upon his skeletal mount Villeth mounted a fallen log and came up behind him. The battering ram, held aloft in the arms of hundreds of never flagging undead warriors was a marvel to behold. Since no wagons could make it through the shattered woods, between the stumps of giant trees, the tireless dead had simply carried it in pieces and sections. It was a feat that Villeth marvelled at and she would carry word of the effectiveness of such tactics to the college where she had been instructed. It would take years, decades or even centuries, before they could ever hope to manage such a feat.

"I yearn for the chance," Villeth declared boldly, eyes glimmering with the desire for bloodshed, "To wade through their blood."

The wooden staff in the dark elven woman's hand spun and she pointed it towards the walls but she did not waste her energies on a pointless display of power. While she could disintegrate a small portion of the wall, what would be the point? The elves would bottle up any small entrance. Perhaps, once the main gate was breached and attention was drawn from the walls she could make such a hole for a sortie.

Kilune looked to Keith and rolled her eyes with a sigh. Of course he wouldn't thank her. She wasn't human. Following behind him as she listened to instructions she raised a brow, then moved to walk beside him matching step per step.

"And what if we are running late? Who is to say that there has not been an order for the caravan to occur already before we have time to set your plan into motion?" She thought a moment then rubbed her chin curiously. "Have you a second plan, should something happen with the first?"

Keith chuckled a bit as he spoke while they took the turn towards Razgar's mines. "Well, I have a backup plan. If they did indeed change their time for the caravans or just did something to mess our intentions up ... The answer is simple. If we don't get that caravan, we can just wait until they send the next one or we go in and..." Turning his head towards her, a michevious grin formed on his face. "We slay everyone." After which he let out a disturbingly evil laughter. "That oughta be fun!" He did stop it soon after and shook his head a bit, keeping his eyes on the road and their surroundings again. "I got a bit carried away. But still, we shall do something no matter what it is, or what consequences it brings."

The massive ram pounding against the old gates of the elven kingdom kept on its thundering as Draxis and his men rode forth towards the ram, passing more of the BoneStitchers who knit together the flesh of the fallen elves and created more Abominations of hatred and evil. Jagged bones jutted from the shoulders and limbs of risen elf warriors who were not selected to be part of the great creations for one reason or another, these mindless shells lumbering forward to aid with the attack on the gate, using their might to drive the ram harder against the fortifications. “Soon young dark elf, we will be bathing in the blood of your fallen enemies and you will get to enjoy your victory, as I mach my forces towards the human capitals.” He spoke to her as a large crack could be heard and the screech of bending metal, the gateways were about to collapse under the constant force that the ram implemented. Scores of undead clamored over the ram and the bodies hefting it into the gate, when suddenly a great horn blast sounded and the gates collapsed. In mere seconds the portcullis was torn up and lifted by several of the larger, more physically capable lumbering hulks, being held by their massive shoulders as the hordes of undead flooded into the city streets of the elven capital. Blood curdling screams and cries of small children could be heard and then were silenced just as fast by the gnashing of teeth and claw. All forms of undead beasts crashed like a powerful wave into the buildings and homes of the cramped elven city. As this happened, the Dethsworn and Draxis himself plodded along on his skeletal mount into the city as the pounding footsteps of the flesh giants could be heard approaching. The legion was in blood frenzy, killing and devouring everything in sight, making even the soldiers that the elves had sent to stop the tide look like children holding sticks to a bear. “The elves may have their magic, Villith, but we have our numbers and ferocity. The arcane cannot control the darkness nor can it drive us back, we only fear the light and those of the holy order of Paladins.” He spoke as he cut down a soldier who tried to lunge at him with a spear. As the elf was slain, the mouth on the side of his blade opened up and drank in the bluish mists that seeped from the elf’s body, trapping it within his blade and revitalizing him further. And as this happened, the elf looked as though all of its years were stolen and simply withered into dust. “My power is not to be trifled with nor is it to be mocked. These elves sought to use their magics and their god’s might to bring us to ruin in the last one hundred years, but they did not know the true might that was Lord Draxis Felwind. They thought to kill me and rid the world of my evil, but they knew not how to accomplish this feat as they knew little of me, and for that they will pay the price, for I know much of them and their ways and their weaknesses.” Draxis was sure that this would be an easy victory, but the fact that he had taken the elves nearly unaware was even sweeter of a victory. “Not even Arman sent soldiers to defend his allies, how foolish to think he could protect his own people when his greatest allies could be taken surprise and torn asunder in such a short time.”

Yeti paused as he listened to his leader. Taking in stride each possible place for his group to be the most useful. As he knew better than most their capabilities he wouldn't trust his group to raid a food at the moment mostly because their personalities clash and cause mayhem. Their not the take over type, because well... their beast to keep it simple, meaning they get bored easy so Yeti nodded and said " Battle field".

Leaving the tent, he headed to his group giving orders for two man teams to break off and join different joins of the army. sadly they were few but from what they lack they made up in raw strong or power. As for him he would pause at the back of the army to relay thoughts from each member to the other when needed. It wasn't the most grand idea he liked but leading meant leading not getting caught up in killing.

Kilune looked to Keith with a slight furrow of her brow. She rolled her shoulders a bit as they made their way towards the area they were expecting the caravan at. "Well, well.. It isn't so often you hear of a human with such a bleeding heart." She glanced around, taking stock of their surroundings as they walked. "Tell me, do you believe that just because someone is of another race than yours, it automatically makes them evil?"

She didn't look to him this time, her muscles tensing at his expected answer. By Keith's way of thinking she expected him to put everyone's head on a pike and take names afterword. She sighed inwardly. How close had she been to becoming one of those in the caravan, not so many years before? She said a silent thanks to the man who had saved her.. Who'd changed her life around and though she was of a darker elven kind.. He had brought her into the light of good and right.

Keith gazed at the ground, as they followed the road, after hearing her question. Deep in thought, he spoke "All my life have I seen and felt suffering upon flesh and mind of all who have come in touch with the ... 'Monsters', as the society used to call them back in the day." A brief, but weak smile formed on his face as his pitch black eyes were still staring at the road."Heck, I still use the expression." Then, his face turned serious. "Every bad moment of my life was caused by these 'monsters'. I've lost my uncle, helping in an elvish civil war. My dad in an ambush to the low rascals of other races. And her ..." Keith's eyes watered up a bit, as he took a deep breath. "They took everything and everyone I loved from me ... You will see me die before my racial views see a change." Looking up, he noticed the mine in the vast distance. "That's our destination."

Razgar
With those orders given Razgar walked back to his tent and a single messenger, when he arrived. "You will go and find the leader of the dark elfs tell him to our intentions and and the staging camp will be ready in a few days." Dismissing the messenger with a grunt he walked back to his quarters and told the guards to wake him if news from Drosta or Draxis arrived. Laying down on a luscious cot he gratefully went to sleep.

Drosta
With supreme confidence in his horse Drosta smiled at Ammok. "That won't be hard orc horses can run for days and not die.". After traveling with the drakes for a couple of hours he galloped next to Ammok " So how do you feel about the undead, the only reason I am asking is because I had to deal with them before I went to your city."

Villeth was uncertain why the elves were holding back. They were the first race, with the most powerful magics known to creation and endless vaults of forbidden artifacts sealed away from the rest of the world for its own protection. The paladins of Correlon Larethian were nowhere to be seen. She'd heard of devotees to Labelas Enoreth, seeing the future, freezing time and moving like lightning, then there were the followers of Solonor Thelindria, god of hunters, who were nearly invisible and could caress a hummingbird's wing with their arrows and a dozen others. She also had to wonder why there were no thorned briars erupting from the charcoal treated earth. Leather Leaf and Ironoak were normally resistant to fire and they had burned down in short order.

Villeth suspected a trap.

The dark elven woman considered possibilities. After all, the undead army was pressed up tight against the wall. It would be the prefect time to counter attack from behind. Alternatively, now that the they were near the cleared portion adjacent to the wall the entire army was exposed to magical strikes from the skies above or possibly attacks from the avariel, the elven tribe that was gifted with wings by Aedrie Faenya, goddess of wind and sky.

[Soladaak]

The wildebeests kicked up dirt forcefully, it was hard to see in a wildebeest ride. Especially over dried mud. The armour of Ragr clicked and clattered as their mounts rode forward. " So how do you feel about the undead, the only reason I am asking is because I had to deal with them before I went to your city." The messenger was heard in the ear of Ammok. Ammok looked over as his mount pondered on. "Undead, Eeh!" Ammok spits off the side of his wildebeest. "We Drakes never had a fondness for magic. Ever since the old king brought forth our ancestors. Dragons. After the war they didn't know what to do with their selves. A lot of them ran riot after our forces retreated. Laid waste to a few villages and towns here and there. On both sides." Ammok knew more than this. He knew how Azarth was trying to call on the ancestors once more. Their numbers would have increased since the war. All those lives lost to dragons. Ammok looked to the neck of his mount as a moment of respect for all of those lives. "You see, messenger. Dragons. They don't think like us. Some races have dragons who use magic and can speak through to you and all of this mumbo jumbo. Our dragons. Our ancestors. They are animals. They think like animals, they lust for blood like animals and they kill merciless like animals. A dragon would easily eat your wife as she holds your newborn baby. That's if you have a family of course." Ammok suddenly comes to a halt. Raising his fist in the air to signal the unit to stop. An undead messenger is seen before him. "Speak, what is your purpose here." Ammok asks calmly.

[Arathel Siliva]

Arathel stood stiff and proud, listening to what Arman had to say. She watched the servant enter the throne room with the sword. A slight humming noise coming from it. She held out her palm as the servant placed the blade into her temporary ownership. The blade glowed a little brighter as it entered her hands. A slight breeze pushing her hair. Nodding as the servant returned to the kings side. "I will protect it with the lives of me and my men. We will not let it fall into the wrong hands, that is a promise. If all should fail, I will send a man back to deliver the message of how we died protecting it." She walked slowly away from Arman after she bowed. Stopping halfway to the door. "We are allies, this is what allies do for one another. They look out for each other. I hope this time, Arman. You will do the right thing." With her back to him. Carrying on through the doorway to exit the throne room and through the palace hallways to her mount Argentina. She will need more men for such a quest.

-The Messenger-
“Commander Ammok, I have been sent by Lord Draxis to deliver a message. The siege on the elven fortresses is well underway and victory is at hand. My lord requests that you be cautious in your approach as the forest is ablaze in an evil, all consuming fire. The trees of the elvenkind are being devoured by my lord’s armies as we speak.” The messenger spoke and held out a scroll with written instructions from Draxis himself. “He crafted this piece specifically for the drakes, Commander, not for orc eyes.” The messenger spoke and nodded, leaving the scroll in Ammok’s hand before vanishing into wisps and returning to his invisible shade form to resume observation of the drake’s approach.

-Lord Draxis-
As the siege continued, Draxis smirked and kept pressing his attack closer to the elven throne room.” It’s curious that the elves have not sent their full force; it is likely that most are away on the true warfront with the rest of Arman’s armies, preparing for the assault against the orcs. They thought they would be safe in this fortress of theirs, hidden from the sight of all mortals. They were wrong.” He spoke as he climbed the steps towards the doors of the great elf hall, blade in hand. “No matter what they do now, it will all be over for them soon, a great shattering blow to their morale will be exactly what we need to turn the tide in our favor.” Draxis pushed open the doors to the hall and cut down the first gaurds who approached them. They weren’t outfitted for battle, more to be a last line of defense… of course they weren’t the best and brightest however. They were already gone to fight against the orcs. All that were left were the royal guard and their pitiful forces. Draxis knew the outcome of this battle, he knew the movements of the enemies armies before many of his comrades in arms, his spies were everywhere, in every corner of the country and they saw every happening. “The power of knowledge and the power of controlling that knowledge is what win you the battle and mostly the war. I knew that these arrogant elves would deploy their full might and leave their capital unguarded. They think that they are untouchable here, but they never knew the true might of my army. Nor did they expect my level of cunning and use of tactics and intelligence to overwhelm them. Arrogance will be the downfall of the elves and their lack of insight into these matters is what in the end led them to ruin.” Draxis pointed his blade towards the throne room doors. “Haselfen, Geront! Break down the doors!” He shouted as his two leading commanders of the Dethsworn bounded in on horseback, stampeding down the door and smashing it with great lances made of twisted, hardened bone. They each adorned a grim looking armor with a gargoyle motif, with menacing helms to look as terrifying as the creature depicted in their armor. “Haselfen, constrict the king and queen in your ice. Geront, take care of the rest of the gaurds with your locust swarms, and get the rest of the Dethsworn to bar the doors in. I do not want any interruptions.” He spoke as he approached the royals that sat upon their thrones, waiting for Draxis to meet them.

“You haven’t won yet, fiend. The Armanian armies will take you and the rest of your devilish kin back to your graves where you belong!” The Queen shouted and slammed her fist into the armrest of her respective throne. “Ah, but that is where you’re wrong. Yes, you may have that fabled ‘Blade of Kings’ on your side and all the griffons as well. But you forget that I am not fighting for Razgar and his horde, I am waging my own war, and this opportunity serves as a perfect opportunity for my plans to succeed. You see, I’m not just after Arman. I am also going to slay that pitiful orc, Razgar, as well and claim the lands for the undead and for my lord Baphomet.” He spoke as he approached the queen, moving his face to be only inches from hers. “And I’m going to use your armies to do it. I will slay every last one of your people and enslave them to my army, a shuffling mass of undead elves and all of their ‘great power’ under my control. You have no idea what I am capable of and you never will be, you lost. You could never have hoped to defeat me unless you sent your whole might, but you never saw me as enough of a threat until it was too late. You, so old with all your wisdom and power from your ‘gods’ yet they have betrayed you, left you to die in this hole because they cannot save you from the wrath that is undeath. Not even your great pantheon can stand to my might because they simply don’t exist, if they did, you would have somehow known about this end of your race and known that I would come for you.” He spoke as he grabbed the queen by her throat with one hand and pointed his ancient blade at the king. “Neither of you could stop me, what makes you think that this King Arman can do the same? Human arrogance and pride far outweighs that of the elves. He thinks that he can scrape together some orc hating peasants and call on his mightiest warriors to face Razgar. But he faces not just the orcs and their hordes of beastial allies. But he faces the drake forces, lead by Ammok, a faithful servant to their king Azarth, and he faces me and all of my legions of undead. Not to mention he has to worry about the ones you cast out, the Dark Elves. You have made a grand error in judgment, trusting a human king to take on all of the immortal forces of this realm. Just because he can control a great military, does not mean he can face the might of three separate armies of equal size to his own and defeat each one. We each have our own motivations and we each are devout to our causes, however the true victor will always be death. It has been since the dawn of time and it will remain so. Every man and woman that falls in the fields of our bloody and brutal war will rise again to fight against their brothers in arms. They will join me and I will conquer.” He spoke coldly as he squeezed his hand with all of his might, crushing her throat and rendering the queen lifeless in his hand.

A moment later he dropped her body to the floor and faced the king. “No is the beginning of the end, this day will be marked as the start of a new world, one ruled by undead lords and their armies. A world shaped by my hands.” Draxis said with a pleased tone, watching the elf king cower in his throne. “It’s not like you to show such weakness in the face of danger. You’ve always been a brave man, even before you became Arman’s lapdog; it’s quite enjoyable to watch you shrivel up in fear of your fate. I wish I could say you fought bravely, but alas, no man could ever stand to me and not quiver in fear. It is my special and unique power, to bring the fear of death into a man, to paralyze him with the thought of perishing. Quite funny if you think of it, most would simply flee from such a fate, but you cannot hide from the reaper of souls, old elf.” He spoke as he shoved his blade through the chest of the elven king, watching his lifeforce slip out and into the blade, leaving but a frail husk of a once great king, lying on the blade as lifeless as his wife. “I claim this keep and fortress for the Dethsworn. This will be our new base of operations, I gift it to Haselfen, and may you keep this keep as I do mine in Vigil’s Keep. Let the screams of the dead ring out and pierce the ears of the living across the land.” Draxis spoke as he sat upon the kings throne, tossing the body off of his blade and letting him sit lifelessly beside his wife, in a heap on the ground, blood pooling around them as Draxis let out an evil cackle, enough to make skin crawl and hearts stop.