For a moment after being confronted with a tentacled fiend reaching into her mind, Clotho stopped in her tracks. Once she deduced that the creature before her was intruding into her own psyche, the place she esteemed to be most private to her, she was -as ever- quick to act. No tentacle-faced beast with an affinity for the mind would make a toy out of her, or soil the image of the Dungeon Keeper. ”Allow me to demonstrate,” she spat. For a moment, she conjured up mental images of her Master, trying to convey the degree of power and influence bound within him—to show Xahillion the will of the being she served. With that done, only a second later, Clotho attacked.

She zoomed forward, filling the air with a high-pitched but loud whirring noise. Xahillion's slaves stood no chance, but on the off-chance that this being fancied himself a 'player', and had the strength to back it up, Clotho merely struck unconscious the puppeted dwarfs rather than reducing them to maggot chow. The next instant, she was still, hovering in the air as the minions slumped over. ”I am a piece, but not yours, and more than a match for you.” With that, she was on the move again, making a beeline straight toward Xahillion with rapier extended.

Narrowing his milky and dead looking eyes at the Insect as it darted around playing with his slaves, Xallihion will think to himself in a cold detatchment, A powerful Master owns her then, annoying but this Master of hers seems interesting. In that case, let us see just how skilled his pieces are. As Clotho does her little speech and launches herself at him, Xallihion will bring his full power to bear. If you are a piece, then you should remember one thing. Every piece is an acceptable loss. Throwing one hand forward, a massive wave of pure magical force will surge down the tunnel, filling it comepletely as debris and unconscious Dwarves are picked up follow its wake before crashing into Clotho. Immediately after unleashing the Wave of Force, Xallihion's mind will strike at Clotho's own, attempting to confuse and stun her from the mental assault.

Moving both hands in practised and fluid movements, Xallihion's Tentacles of Force will erupt from the surface of the tunnel all around and behind Clotho. The Tentacles quickly seize anything within reach, even the flying Dwarves, and crushes them in their viscious and uncaring grip. Throughout the whole series of attacks, Clotho hears Xallihion's mental voice in her head, This is my might and you will fear and respect it.

The human village

Inside the household of one of the local plutocrats, the situation was grim. As Balothiss was finally able to breach the door with Torrens' help, several men and even the plutocrat's son were revealed to be waiting just past the mound of furniture and such that barricaded the ruined door. Pointing their crossbows through the gaps in the barricade, they fired and then retreated further inside to reload and most likely set up some sort of ambush. While it might be tempting to just cave in the entire mansion or set it ablaze, causing that sort of damage would kill and destroy everything inside. While it might be a nuisance, taking the rich family as prisoners and thoroughly looting the place might prove profitable indeed.

As in for the plutocrat himself, if one went into the basement he would be found cowering behind a crate or two inside the wine cellar. His wife was currently in some crazed attempt to escape with their children by fleeing out the back door, but she would be lucky if Torrens or Balothiss caught her in the act and merely took her prisoner. With the orcs everywhere and spilling into the city, there was no hope of escape. Indeed, there wasn't much hope of survival and the horde of orcs seemed likely to just give in to their violent nature and kill on sight due to being mostly unsupervised.

Meanwhile, in the plaza the knight was sent flying backwards by Athinar's attack and he did indeed break several bones. Wincing in agony, he could only wait helplessly for the barbarian to finish the deed. As fate would have it, his defeat would not come so easily. One of the guardsmen had at this point managed to reload his crossbow and he shot the thing right for the back of Athinar's knee, where he knew armor was so often weak. Picking up a pike from a fallen comrade, he then charged the man with either a death wish or a stupid amount of bravery.

While that one guard's valiant attack was likely to just cause his death, it would be a distraction. Seizing the opportunity of even just a few moments, several water priests conjured water. The stuff glowed a bit as they chanted, and then they hurled the healing waters at the downed knight. The waters began to wrap around his body and enveloped him, quickly undoing the damage to his body and reinvigorating him with a second wind.



The Overlord sighed as he scried the town with his magic to observe the attack. It would seem that half of his champions had yet to even show their cowardly faces to the fray, content to do nothing. They would be punished if that did not change soon... Athinar's battle with the champion was interesting, but the Dungeon Keeper couldn't help but roar in frustration as his minion failed to finish the downed foe before the mages could get to healing him again.

Rather bored and seething with frustration, the Master began to work his magic. In all the chaos of the battle, nobody was likely to look up. If they did, they might just get a few seconds warning as they saw a great chunk of fire and rock being conjured in the air before left to simply plummet straight down into the square. The makeshift meteor that the Dungeon Keeper sent down would strike perhaps twenty or thirty seconds after the mages began to heal the lord of the town in shining armor. The Master expected it to kill almost everything in the plaza, quite possibly including Athinar, but he had to have his fun somehow. If questioned later, he would even go so far as to call this a test of Athinar's abilities. Or perhaps a punishment for incompetence?

Sighing again, he simply watched with eager anticipation as the meteor rocketed downwards. This should be droll, the Master thought to himself. But then, he suddenly sensed something. Someone was trying to get into contact with him!

Octavian and his friend would have to wait a bit as their Master was truly quite eager to see the result of his work and unwilling to take his eyes off the meteor. But after that was done, he quickly turned to see their message. They couldn't expect him to instantly respond, could they? In any case, he was impressed.

He replied in short order. At first the gladiator might simply sense an approaching magical presence of some sort, but then the Master's familiar and rather sinister aura would be felt and there would be no mistaking him. The shadows in the corner of the room seemed to convulse and spread out, casting the entire room in an unnatural dark and turning that one corner as black as death itself. Well, except for the Master's two red eyes that peered out that that shadowy portal.

"Your work spying on this town was good, but I am recalling you now. Step into the shadows and return to the Dugneo instantly or travel on your own; it makes no matter. There will soon be more work to be done. If the duo did not accept the Keeper's rather uncharacteristically kind offer of simply teleporting them back, it would be hard to blame them. This wasn't the most caring or trustworthy of figures and such portals could be exceeding dangerous.

But then again, his blatant and extremely powerful black magic would almost certainly be detected by the local wizards as he made no attempt to even hide it or conceal his aura. If they did not go through that portal, the local mages would soon be arriving and the duo might have bigger problems.

Of the small volley of crossbow bolts fired at Torrens and Balothiss, only one had either the skill or the luck to actually hit Torrens in the leg. The bolt, of course, did not penetrate Torrens' surface, but instead bent about 45 degrees, the blow liberating a shot of bright fire and momentarily unbalancing him. Before he could return fire, though, the men had retreated further inside, and lacking a clear shot Torrens refrained from attacking. In his view of the situation, the inhabitants of the manor would only be able to put up a paltry resistance, and the manor almost certainly contained valuables which would be destroyed if he were to enter the house and burn it down with his presence.

"I think you can take them from here," Torrens said to Balothiss, "If I go in there I'll just burn all the loot. So if you have no problems, I'll find somewhere else to help."

As he turned to leave, his eyes were drawn to a large burning object falling from the sky. A flaming meteor, crashing from the sky into some point in the middle of the town. An earth-shuddering shockwave and a spectacular fireball followed. Torrens was left awestruck, unable to do anything but gape for a few moments. When he did eventually regain composure, he exclaimed, "Where in hell did that come from?!"

If Balothiss had made no objection, Torrens dashed off to the impact site, to inspect the damage and maybe pick off any survivors and feed off the burning wreckage.

As Torrens ran off to go find out what the object in the sky had been or whatever it was Balothiss lumbered over to the very front door of the manor and before bashing it down glanced around and he found a group fleeing and Balothiss simply just shrugged they could run but the orcs would probably get them.

And he grabbed the door handle and wretched it off then he produced a ball of flame and held it under his sword heating the blade and once warm enough he pierced it through the wood like butter and then kicked it down.

He walked out into the main hall as the dust settled and he sheathed his blade he listened and surveyed the hall and heard nothing and saw nobody.

"That's odd"

Balothiss thought he would be assaulted by many but he guessed the lord of this manor never really had many guards other than at least twelve to maybe fifteen guardsmen and at least six archers but they obviously we're more focused on the orcs who were obviously giving in to their regular nature.

Balothiss did see a door slightly ajar near a stairway maybe leading to an underground cellar or a wine cellar, he smiled at the slightest thought of Alcohol he could go for an Ale though.

He made his way over to the door and he ducked through looking down to find steps leading down into a dimly lit cellar smelling of mold and slightly aged wine and candle wax.

He looked at the stairs which were stone and began descending them hearing the slight whisper of a grovelling middle age man and quickly hearing nothing after but a quiet whimper.

As Balothiss reached the cellar he saw walls lined with casks of wine and shelves of white wines and spirits and then the head of a balding man behind a crate who quivered and prayed to some god that Balothiss did not know about.

"Stand up naive I have no time for you,"

He stood over the crate staring at the man who was most likely the man of the house and was a plutocrat by the looks and sound of him.

"You will kneel to my master and we will take you as a prisoner!"

Balothiss shoved the crate out of the way and then cornered the man.

Octavius wondered of the burst transmission worked, there was no way to tell if it worked unless the keeper responded so they found rather loud ways to keep themselves entertained. In truth he expected an imp or even a telepathic response to either his earing or to Tinkerhel directly. What he did not expect was such a large expense of power to darken the room with his presence and familiar red eyes appear before him.

"Your work spying on this town was good, but I am recalling you now. Step into the shadows and return to the Dungeon instantly or travel on your own; it makes no matter. There will soon be more work to be done.

There was a moment of wistfulness as he considered unfinished plans to deepen the rift and claim his prizes. but those were temporary things he could always claim on his return to the city. He was given an order and he would follow it. At least the keeper would have one loyal and intelligent worker under him.

The two gathered ALL of their things from the simple room with tinkerhell using her electrical magics to 'scrub' the room of hair and the like under Octavius orders and walked through the shadows without even bothering to make themselves decent as they stepped into the gate of darkness... Hopefully they emerged in the main chamber and could begin to dress themselves in the 'safety' of their base.

"Apologies, great one. I have more information to tell you but did not want to complicate the castings or make it too detailed in case another caught it as well. I have brought you the model of the city and as you can see I have painted as much of the details from my reconnaissance in red on red on the back of the tablet rather than carve it on wood. Simple techniques that should have been impossible to detect if not looking for exactly that.

Here are troop names, religions and regions they live in that I could get without pressing issues. One thousand strong soldiers in a ten thousand city. Here are the areas of importance to the people themselves with high traffic, here are the places of military importance. Sadly, I was unable to gain a foot in the thieves guild for you.

We were working to drive a wedge in the hearts of faith to start splitting the city against itself. They were nowhere near ready for a civil war, but we might have worked well to change entire troop movements to being of specific groups of faith. Segregation will slow responses and sow indifference into their hearts when the time comes."

He took a breath from speaking to await the keepers response. While waiting, he put his mind to task and try and see if anything was different from before or if there were any new recruits from when they left.

These mages that worked their wills on water would soon learn the error of their confidence. The silent image strode toward them silently. As a shadow follows the living. This shade now fell upon his first prey. Drawing the line to his hood and swinging away in an broad stroke. The action made as munch sound, as a portrait depicting the same action. No savior for man, he thought.

Cold stare knew these mages would not change the outcome they were pawns in an game where knights and rooks contend. He moved to the first mage who was closest. Whether he faced the mages back or not mattered little. The blade would aim for his heart freezing him from the inside out. Nothing could stop this. The mages life was forfeit. Another piece to be removed from the game. Staying true to from the specter moved the blade effortlessly and vertically through the mage. In a slow climb to the mages face cold stare was ensuring the ice spread as the edge moved. The reactions to his were inconsequential the image moved to the next mage drawing strength from his fear.

One moment, Clotho seemed poised to skewer the tentacle-faced monstrosity on her rapier-point. The next, Xahillion's pressure assailed her mind, attempting to overpower her will. Furious that a being would think her nothing more than a minion waiting to be subjugated, Clotho fought back, harnessing her own mental fortitude to repel the incursion. That, however, left her open to her opponent's second line of offense.

When the tumultuous cascade of force slammed into her, Clotho was both distracted enough and slow enough that it swept her up like a leaf in a cyclone. Her body was sent flying back, shrieking, as Xahillion's voice echoed within her head. Unable to concentrate on overpowering his double attack on either the physical or the mental front simultaneously, she was snared by the otherworldly being's tentacles of force, and the humming, reverberating constructs of kinetic energy entwined around her limbs, constricting tighter and tighter. Her carapace began to hive, cracking, splintering, and finally shattering in places beneath the terrible squeeze. With one final, sickening crack, Clotho's form went limp.

The tentacles receded, and Clotho fell unceremoniously to the cave floor. Her shell was devastated, most of it lying in shards around her exposed, burgundy skin on the cold, unforgiving stone, and for a moment it looked like Xahillion had taken down the swarm queen in a single hit. To his credit, it did take her a moment before she began to stir, released reserves of adrenaline starting to flow through her. A little laugh resounded through the tunnel as Clotho stood to her feet and contracted her muscles, allowing the remains of her broken armor to fall to the floor. Beneath her carapace, Clotho looked surprisingly human, skin tone and consistency aside. Her eyes, however, were not human in the least, and her wings began to flutter. ”I can respect anyone strong enough to destroy my shell. But respect will not save you. You have orchestrated your own destruction, for my armor weighed me down. You face me now at my full strength....” Clotho began to vibrate. Around her, doubles began to appear. They were not conjurations, but something far more dire: she was moving between different points in space at such speed that she appeared to be in several places at once. ”With my armor off.”

Doubles filled the tunnel. It was difficult to say where each one even was; one would appear at one position and be gone in less than a second. The air was humming, vibrating and hot as the swarm queen displaced it faster than it could part. This continued for several seconds, and it became plain that this wasn't all some elaborate attack. Clotho was just showing off how futile the situation really was. Finally, with infinitesimally little warning, twelve Clothos appeared around Xahillion and lashed out with punches or kicks from every direction simultaneously.

As the clones descend on him, Clotho can hear a strange sound, both in her mind and from the creature before her. It is the sounds of laughter, strange gurgling laughter, but laughter none the less. As the clones begin to lash at his body, Xallihion will draw his power to him and form a Shield around himself, Impressive Clotho. If your master has a piece like you, then he very well might be someone to learn from. With the continuous blows to the Shield, cracks begin forming along its entire form as Xallihion holds both of his hands out at the sides in a placating gesture. Shall we call this a draw? For as you are right now, I would have to use all my power and my life to destroy you. His hands begin glowing with the power he is gathering as his white eyes looks at the Clotho infront of him, ready to end her if she doesn't relent, I will make sure my enemy's victory is short lived, but this won't serve your Master and I'd would rather live and meet with him. I will even help you with removing the Dwarves to prove my worth if you'd like. So what is your answer?

Balothiss picked the plutocrat up by the back of his tunic and lifted him up to eye level the man was trying not to grovel and cry like a baby this made Balothiss laugh gruffly and then he looked around the room and found a man sized sack and then looked for some rope and then he seized the man and began binding his arms and his legs then shoved the man into the bag he cried out in disobedience and the man tried to struggle against Balothiss's strength and failed the man ended up in the bag and all Balothiss heard was a slight angry and annoyed groan.

"Now if you would be so kind as to tell me where you hold your treasures I would be as so kind to cut a hole in that bag to let your stupid little head to breath properly and not suffocate!"

The man was silent and this angered Balothiss who hit the sack hard with a punch the man wheezed then nodded with that then Balothiss looked around for any knifes and found a small crate full of daggers and other assorted trophies that the man probably was hiding and then Balothiss cut a hole so the mans head would stick out.

"How dare you treat me this-"

The mans words were cut short when Balothiss slapped him across the face and then he fell silent.

"I care not for this abuse but I care for my life I will tell you where my treasures are but I will only tolerate you-"

"You will tolerate me you ungrateful fool I hate people like you so what I say goes!"

The mans eyes widened and he looked at Balothiss with fear and then nodded.

"I keep my treasures in two rooms in the manor I have two rooms one is for relics,artwork and assorted heirlooms or inherited treasures and the other holds things which I can't remember it has been a long time since I have entered that area although both are locked I know where the keys are!"

Balothiss patted the mans back softly and smiled then slung the man over his shoulder and then looked around and huffed because this was his first true puzzle and his first true quest and now he felt a purpose.

It wasn’t long before Umbra noticed the other archers and sorcerers focus turn towards him and begin to fire. Seconds before an arrow landed straight in the chest of the man he possessed Umbra quickly left his body. The man now finally in control a loud wheeze before coughing up small amounts of blood. In a desperate attempt to reach out for help from his fellow archers, they fired a second wave of arrows towards the man, finally putting him out of his misery.

Umbra’s attention turned towards the battle at hand between the knight and Athinar. The battle almost going to smoothly, took a drastic turn when the knight was healed by a group of mages. Suddenly a huge explosion, so large that if Umbra had possessed another living being that he may have died. “Was that a spell from one of their mages? Is there truly someone powerful enough to conjure a spell this large this quickly inside such a small village?” Umbra questioned the position they may be in. The ash around him though made it difficult to see, so he had no choice but to wait and find out what truly happened.

The bolt flew true, and sunk into the back of Athinar's knee. Growling, he bent down, and ripped the bolt out, actually blinking at the pain. When he stood up, he spun around, and catching the pike by the haft, he swung the man to the side, and lifted his knee, catching the man's cuirass on the armored plate, and crushed the armor, breaking the man's ribs beneath. Coughing up blood, the man passed out quickly, as Athinar dropped the pike, and the guardsman with it to the ground.

Turning back to the mages, Athinar, with a glint in his eye, saw that some... ghost had begun slaughtering them all. Huh. Not Narza, or even Umbra. Something else, that he hadn't met yet. Oh well. As long as it was helpful. Pulling his sword from the dirt behind the decapitated guardsman's corpse, Athinar strode powerfully towards the fallen knight. It didn't matter if he had gotten healed. Full armor is heavy. If you don't have anyone to help you up, you were screwed. As he rose his sword, ready to thrust downwards, the smell of brimstone and fire suddenly clogged his nostrils, and a meteor started to fall. Eyes dilating, Athinar stabbed his sword into the knight's chest, through the breastplate, and held his hands up instinctively, as if to catch the meteor.

As the meteor was about to reach his hands, however, something strange happened. Strange, black armor, with bloody runes wrapped itself around Athinar's body, including his helmet. The sword grew, and the runes engraved along the blade pulsed with a bloody light. As the explosion happened, Athinar was buffeted by fire, wind, and almost crushed by stone, if not for the mysterious armor. That was practically undamaged, except in the gauntlets, which leaked a bloody mist, from the various cracks and dents in the armor.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Athinar looked down at himself, and then around the demolished village square. Who could have done this? The fire sorcerers? No, not powerful enough. The only one powerful enough to do such a thing was... The Boss. Of course. But why would he do that?

Seeing Torrens approach, Athinar strode confidently towards the demon, picking up the massive runed sword, grip meant for two giant-sized hands, in one hand. If Torrens got close enough, he would feel a slight coolness radiating from the armor, not enough to affect anything, but enough to make a noticeable difference. The temperature change was centered around the gauntlets, which leaked that mysterious bloody mist.

"Torrens. What news? Shukra's orcs surround the village, so we haven't lost any of them, but have you received any news of the others?"

While he lacked the speed of the Swarm Queen normally and he was somewhat slowed down by the cargo that he himself and the imps were transporting, Twich was able to set a surprisingly fast pace through the tunnels that the swarm have craved out into the dwarven mines. In the few places where the tunnel wasn't big enough to safely move the cauldrons through, a bit of digging was done by the kobold to widen the tunnel a little bit more. While it wasn't the higher thought exercises that he enjoyed doing in his spare time, Twich would admit that the feeling of dirt under his claws was relaxing and felt strangely natural.

In the end they arrived at the chamber where Clotho seemed to be staging her invasion of the mines. Letting the imps take a moment to have a break and rest up from their efforts to get the cauldrons here in a timely manner in one piece, Twich walked over to one of the bugs that were milling about before asking "By any chance, you wouldn't happen to be able to tell me where Clotho is? Or even send some kind of signal to her that I've arrived would you?"

It was honestly a fairly good question that he was going to have to talk with Clotho about. Maybe while they were working together on reverse engineering the dwarf's special kind of blasting powder. While he hid it from his face, his inner child was cackling and shouting 'Explosions!' merrily.

Torrens, walking into the square and seeing the devastation, managed to come to the same conclusion as Athinar. Torrens himself had taken out what must have been the only fire priest here powerful enough to pull a stunt like that. Even if there was another, as a pyromancer himself Torrens would have used a highly concentrated fire bolt to kill a single target like Athinar, not a massive explosion causing severe collateral damage. Whoever had cast that spell wanted to kill most of the people in the square, and had the power to do so. That smelt of a Keeper. The Master clearly did not shy away from sacrificing his minions if there was benefit to be gained.

Although perhaps more incredibly was that Athinar was standing in that shattered square almost completely unscathed in some new eldritch armour.

"Balothiss the Half Giant is raiding the manor," Torrens answered, gesturing towards the manor, "As for the others, I have not seen them. Although, I have not looked for them either."

Torrens looked around again. The human forces had been shattered by that explosion. It appeared that anyone who had survived had made themselves scarce before someone could pick them off. Torrens' brow furrowed as he thought.

"Was there anything left for me to do? I was originally meant to be outside, so I haven't kept track of our objectives inside the town."

Upon the arrival of Octavius, the Dungeon Keeper listened eagerly to the elaborated report. Or at least he began listening eagerly, but quickly his attention began to turn back to the battle raging in the village. He gave a quick response, "This information will prove valuable. We will wait a while and see what grows of the seeds of strife that you planted; you have done well. I will have to give you some sort of reward for this, but first, let us pay a visit to the newest lands of my domain."

The Keeper waved a hand, and the room began to fade away. A few moments later, another fiery explosion appeared in the town square. This one came with no meteor or other form of warning; it was just a byproduct of powerful magic that heralded the warlock's arrival. When the dust settled and the flames vanished, the figures of the Master and his company were visible.

Taking a moment to observe the scene and take in all the carnage, he rubbed his palms together and absolutely radiated some sort of sick delight. The cobblestones of the square had been sent flying by the meteor and had knocked down several nearby buildings in conjunction with the fire and blastwave. As in for the defenders that had rallied in the square, most of them were simply gone. Massive explosions didn't leave much behind, though those on the outskirts of the plaza were only crisped as compared to obliterated. A few spatters of blood and burned limbs littered the scene. But for all of that destruction, it seemed like his own minions had managed to survive!

The Master raised his staff and rifts began to appear on the blackened ground. From those portals burst out imps, the little red devils rushing to secure the are and look for loot. Many carried manacles and chains freshly forged from the materials gathered from the last raid; since most of the town's civilians had cowered in their homes, there were plenty of prisoners to take. Notably the veritable horde of little demons was even larger than before. Having nothing better to do with his time, the Keeper had been summoning additional imps using the sacrificial victims he had claimed from amongst the last village's enslaved population. Still, as the little imps surged out and swept through the place he couldn't help but notice how pathetic they were. The imps had their purpose, but they were weak and all looked down upon the miserable things. He would soon need to see about getting some more fearsome and formidable creatures to serve as his grunts.

Casually waiting until the last remnants of resistance were suppressed and all of his champions eventually found their way to the plaza, he addressed his horde.

"Well, this could have certainly gone more smoothly, but in the end it turned out well enough I suppose...of course, without Shukra's guidance the orcs let some fleeing peasants escape. I will need a volunteer or two to hunt them down before they reach another settlement, so that they cannot draw unwanted attention to us. There is also the matter of who will govern this trashpile of a holdfast. And the matter of what to do with those who were too cowardly or incapable of taking charge this battle. Anybody care to chime in?"

It was then that the Keeper sensed something strange. It was certainly powerful and malevolent, but it wasn't his. This being wasn't one of his champions...he turned to look for the source and saw Cold Stare. "Ah, a wraith of some sort! Well, it would seem that you've helped with the taking of this town and avoided conflict with my other followers, or else I would have sensed you earlier. Well, you've stumbled right into the greatest army of darkness that this world has seen! Tell me, would you care to join our band of reapers and conquerors?"

"This information will prove valuable. We will wait a while and see what grows of the seeds of strife that you planted; you have done well. I will have to give you some sort of reward for this, but first, let us pay a visit to the newest lands of my domain."

By the time the report was done, Octavius was Fully dressed with his armor hiding the multitude of scars while tinkerhel remained naked. Clothing Octavius first was an appreciated act of submission, either that or simple placation for him while truly submitting to the keeper. Either way she clothes were a snap to get on, or off, quite literally a snap of her fingers summoned serpentine straps of sable to keep her in place.

A snap was just as long as it took for the keeper to take them to the source of the new carnage. His stomach churned at the bedlam that these others caused. Even with enchantments and experience he was still sickened by the carnage. There was a reason he never went to war, it was to avoid wholesale slaughter like this.

Then the imps came, just as before like an infection of infernal army ants to scour the land clean of any life left in this place. Unsure of any other plans, he kept the greatsword resting on his shoulder while in a protective position over the keeper and tinkerhel on the other side. He watched and waited for all the others to fall in at the lords command.

"Well, this could have certainly gone more smoothly, but in the end it turned out well enough I suppose...of course, without Shukra's guidance the orcs let some fleeing peasants escape. I will need a volunteer or two to hunt them down before they reach another settlement, so that they cannot draw unwanted attention to us. There is also the matter of who will govern this trashpile of a holdfast. And the matter of what to do with those who were too cowardly or incapable of taking charge this battle. Anybody care to chime in?"

Riding the praise, he sought to strengthen the position of his good work by summoning a mount from the wand on his arm. In truth he wanted to be well out of the reach of backlash when the keeper started culling disappointments. Getting away from the carnage would be a relief to his overwhelmed senses as well.

"Please sire, let me ride down the stragglers as time is of the essence."

When the Keeper appeared, Torrens bowed towards him in as sincere a manner as he could muster. As imps poured out of conjured rifts he stood around and waited until the Keeper was ready to make his address. When it was done, Torrens gave some thought as to how he might be of further service. Governing was not something he was trained to do, or something he wanted to do, so that left chasing down the fled villagers. While he had no tracking skills, he realised that the villagers would be fleeing towards the nearest towns, which would be easy enough to find. He could outrun people fleeing on foot, and if there was a forest, or even thick ground cover, between them and refuge...

"I also volunteer to stop those who have fled. They would be heading towards the nearest settlements, so I can work to intercept one such route."

@CycloneIt was then that the Keeper sensed something strange. It was certainly powerful and malevolent, but it wasn't his. This being wasn't one of his champions...he turned to look for the source and saw Cold Stare. "Ah, a wraith of some sort! Well, it would seem that you've helped with the taking of this town and avoided conflict with my other followers, or else I would have sensed you earlier. Well, you've stumbled right into the greatest army of darkness that this world has seen! Tell me, would you care to join our band of reapers and conquerors?"

The sound of this one dug into his mind like a scarab. An army of darkness? Being part of something was never his choosing. Many of the people he tried to save were instruments in his very death. Being a part of something that would cull them leaving only the righteous in its wake. These weaken fools only living to let evil thrive. Cold stare was right as he had seen none of them possessed the strength to defend what little morals they had so desperately clung to. How fitting now he had the chance to be a part of this army that would carry out his need to bring truth to the world. His sword faded from his hand. Damn, he had been out of combat for too long and the power he used siphoned his material form he did not panic as he knew this would happen. Cold stare would follow this troop he would rise again. The wraith started to fade like smoke against the wind. Before his cowl vanished his will spoke one word aloud. "Yes."

Balothiss carried the man up the stairs with no problems the man complied very well although at times very stubborn, Balothiss had to intimidate the plutocrat into submission.

After a while Balothiss had found both the keys in the plutocrats bedroom where it was in a locked box which he broke open and the plutocrat seemed very upset about that saying repeatedly to himself that it was a family relic and grovelling to himself about moving to the area with his family.

---

Time passes...

Balothiss was becoming aggravated and annoyed, because the plutocrat wouldn't shut up about his life and how badly he was being treated shouting about his rights as a citizen, Balothiss threatened the man and that shut him up but that never worked for long.

Balothiss came to a large oak door which the plutocrat pridefully explained was a storage room for his treasures, slipping one of the keys into the lock he opened the large oak doors and found himself looking at a room lavishly furnished and smelt of exquisite spices and perfumes, two large iron trunks made of silver casting and fine oak wood probably holding gold and other treasure, he put the man on a lovely couch nearby and walked over to the trunks.

His eyes glazed over when he pried open the trunk revealing the treasures inside, filled to the brim with gold coins and the odd ancient coin, diamonds and other gems, and priceless jewellery the only reason Balothiss was stirred from his stupor was that he sensed the Dungeon Keeper nearby and then a large tremor and heard many screams outside.

He ran to the window a large balcony revealing the courtyard in disaster as it had been before but then looking towards the village Balothiss spotted a cloaked figure standing by Torrens and another, he spotted the wraith Cold Stare nearby.

Balothiss heard his wrathful and powerful voice and he began to shake for fear of the mistakes he made in battle, he looked back to find the plutocrat out of his bindings which lay on the floor and the man holding an silvered longsword decorated with some jewels and the hilt plated with shiny metals, the man had a wild look in his eyes and he swung at Balothiss who reluctantly was out of range.

The plutocrat obviously didn't plan on letting him go with the treasures and certainly would not stand to be taken prisoner.

Balothiss pulled his greatsword from its sheath and he ran at the decrepit fool who was attempting to kill him, he elbowed the man sending him spewing towards a shelf of old books and trophies he crashed into it sending the contents flying everywhere thankfully not breaking anything but the shelf tipped over onto the man who groaned in pain probably the shelf had broken some of the plutocrats bones.

Easily lifting the shelf and moving it off the man Balothiss looked down at the once wealthy man now broken and tangled his legs were twisted and mangled and he probably had fractured something in his waist or back area.

"Thought you could get the better of me eh!"

The man spat at Balothiss, who picked the man up and carried him over to the balcony high above the courtyard.

"I don't need to think of those things,"

Balothiss said with a small grin and he held the man over the edge of the balcony the mans eyes became large and full of tears, and Balothiss continued speaking.

"I don't need to think of them because I already knew I got better of you!"

Balothiss hesitated for only a moment contemplating whether this was the right decision and he decided to put the man to put the man down on the floor of the balcony the man looking confused shouted at Balothiss who turned around and began walking back inside.

"Come back coward,"

The man tried to pull himself with his arms but moved nowhere, Balothiss turned to the man and his eyes revealed cruel intent the plutocrat stopped shouting and became quiet, and Balothiss spoke before he went back inside to start collecting the treasures.

"I don't need to kill you for it is crueler to let you live without the ability to walk!"

And Balothiss walked into the room hearing the man shouting after him pleading that Balothiss kill should kill him and Balothiss only ignored the man, for he planned on walking back outside and carrying the man out with him to the others or leaving him to recount these tales to his grandchildren Balothiss contemplated these things as he began to go grab things to hold treasure, he also was worried whether the Master would punish Balothiss for the mistakes that he had made.

For a few seconds Clotho was quiet, but she made her mind up quickly.
“You're not so bad yourself. A being of your obvious power would be most interesting indeed to my Master. For now, we should work together to ensure the elimination of the dwarves.” Pieces of chitinous brown were starting to poke through her burgundy flesh. Already her armor was beginning to regrow. As the carapace regenerated, it gave the swarm queen a strange, half-complete look. ”After that, I'm sure that my Master would be most eager to speak to you.”

At that moment a Lambent appeared from the tunnel down which Clotho had previously come. It chittered a message into her ear before buzzing off. ”My partner has arrived with supplies. The dwarf exploration should be dealt with now. I enthralled two of them and sent them back to deliver false reports; our operation is secure for the time being. Follow me to the staging area.” Clotho took off, and hovered a way in front of Xahillion. Once the two had begun to move, Clotho started talking again. ”Tell me about yourself and why you're hear.”