What happened in the brief moments before Athinar's death was extremely painful. Getting thrown about like a ragdoll, he was confused. How had this sickly, frail, weak mage do this? What had the power? However, any thoughts he had were shattered, as the Overlord increased the torment. In the few seconds before his physical form was destroyed, he felt nothing, every sense was overloaded.

In that moment, the world faded away, and he looked up, seeing a tether to.... himself? Then all was Void.

---

Deep in the depths of the Void, Athinar the Void Lord floated around, amused. It appeared that the Demonic Keeper from three worlds ago had appeared, and come to the current one. He would take a vessel, and live as a mortal, without his memories. However, if he died, he would return in a more powerful form, with his memories. Let's see, which form.... ah, he'd just go with his normal one. No use in doing anything special for such a dull planet.

Seeking out a form, he shot to the planet, looking into the hearts of men. None were sufficient, though. Even this world's warlords were boring. So.... he might choose a... younger target. Finding an orphan upon the steps of a monastery, wrapped in rags, Athinar implanted his soul within the body, replacing the infant's own. Being an ancient spirit of darkness, he had no qualms, no regrets about ending the life of a month-old child. As his memories faded away, the infant's eyes flashed an impossible shade of red. This would be fun.

---

As the Keeper reformed Athinar, Sarin's memories returned to her. On this world, she was known as a paladin, servant of the Emperor. However, she was much more than that. As Athinar had come to the world, and taken a body, Sarin had become one with a young girl, joining her as she prayed to a deity. They had become a compound soul, two people in one body. It was complicated to explain, but not hard to do. Needless to say, up until this point, Sarin was more of a guardian angel, but now, she was manifest.

As this happened, she flew at Balothiss, speed doubled, and battered him with a flurry of blows from every angle. It would be nigh impossible to dodge them all, though to a half-giant such as Balothiss, they wouldn't be too grievous.

Meanwhile, Athinar awoke. Ash and green fire spinning around in a cyclone of terror, a black form could be seen in the center of the vortex. After it subsided, a man, with medium-length black hair, and shining red eyes, appeared. Clad in leather, with a sword sheathed at his hip, he looked to the warlock, and with a massive shit-eating grin on his face gave a deep, theatrical bow.

"You rang?"

Balothiss did take a battering and he also didn't dodge all the blows but he did make it to draw back from his opponent, he was badly bloodied and bruised but not dying or incapable of fighting but definitely battered.

His fault had been Athinar and the Keeper because he couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, now he had taken punishment for being distracted.

He put a hand to his mouth wiping some blood from his face, he also was now looking at his sword because he did not understand why it's magics had not helped him yet what was so magical about it now.

He looked back to Sarin who seemed so prideful and arrogant, but most of all so holy it angered him first he gritted his teeth his blood rushing through his veins he could feel his heart pounding and the adrenaline in his body.

He stood up he grunted feeling a little sore but he was too angry to notice he looked upon Sarin with disgust and almost even pity because the women had one fault her sheer faith.

His veins now showed as he held Reaver in his grasp his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with rage but his brain filled with more rage than anyone should handle for he had the soul of a giant and the might of his ancestors.

He could feel himself slowly becoming angrier and angrier, he knew he wanted so badly to tear Sarin apart but he knew she also was very talented in battle.

He charged at her not caring if she swung at him he held Reaver before him to block her blade and he send himself charging at Sarin roaring a mighty battle cry that not even he knew how loud it was although he could here his voice straining from the roar then it must have been loud.

He was determined to kill Sarin the so called Holy Champion of Paladin he just ran at her and if he even reached her he would make sure he would crush her or if she even cut him that he would maim her severely so that she would loose life or limb.

Those volatile orbs of fire hat were the warlock's eyes narrowed at Athinar. The freshly resurrected servant of his wasn't gnashing his teeth and charging wildly, and that was a good sign. It was always inconvenient to reanimate someone and have them remember exactly what killed them since the Master usually had a hand in their deaths and such foul memories always led to further violence or disobedience...no, it was best to have a clean slate.

But was this new Athinar a clean slate? Just how much did he remember? The Overlord would be sure to keep an eye on that one and later probe with some questions. It couldn't hurt to play it safe, after all. If it proved necessary he knew of a few means of "fixing" any defects in this reanimated Athinar's mind and memories.

But in the meantime, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Noticing that Umbra seemed to be waiting for something, he cast a harsh that way. 'What does that fool want?' the Keeper found himself thinking. But then it hit him; how could he have forgotten? "Oh yes, you wanted permission to rule this ravaged waste of a fief. By all means, it is yours. Make the locals slaves to work for our cause, press them into being warriors, use them all as a catalyst in some ritual that will summon us real fighters...it doesn't matter what you do with them or this place, so long as you exploit the resources here for our cause."

It was then that the ever forgetful and absent-minded Keeper had his thoughts and monologue interrupted by the sound of fighting. He turned once again to notice Sarin a second time. Balothiss hadn't killed her yet, and as droll as it might be to watch the two fight, perhaps it was time that he interceded.

Lazily yet deliberately, he menacingly approached with his dark staff in hand.

As he forced Sarin back with his blows Balothiss might have thought himself to be winning the battle except for the fact the he had realized that the Keeper was approaching and seemed to be quite tired of this dither of a battle.

Balothiss backed away from Sarin quickly before she could even attack him and he nodded at the Keeper wondering whether the Keeper would destroy the paladin out right or let her go alive.

@Cyclone

"Do you wish to intercede my Lord?"

Balothiss spoke up.

"I feel our powers are too evenly matched for us to even fell one another we are two equally tough fighters and skilled warriors and we are too much of an even match so I must guess you are tired of the boring battle to end?

He asked the Keeper watching as he approached.

Umbra gave a somewhat distasteful smile after finally receiving permission from the Master. He noticed the Master’s feelings for the village and his overall lack of enthusiasm for what happened to it, but Umbra felt almost invigorated at the very thought. It had been a long time since he had control over a fief, rather than a man he had simply possessed. It was his land to rule, and as long as he gave tribute to his overlord then all would be well.

By the time the master began to leave to deal with the paladin, Umbra had already planned out how he would rule the fief. He would execute any man 16 or older, or at the very least looked to be of that age in his eyes, to quell any thoughts of rebellion. It would be a messy process, but if done quickly enough he would need only a couple of orcs to gather the men. After essentially exterminating the male population the chances of an immediate uprising would be slim to none. If all went well Umbra imagined that they would have the land in full production by next harvesting season. He knew that it would not be that simple, but it was a start. As soon as the master had dealt with the paladin he would request the necessary men in order to execute his initial plan.

The Master glanced towards Balothiss and laughed a bit at how he called it a 'boring battle'. "Yes, that is more of less what I am doing," he laughed in response to Balothiss' question as he swatted aside some feeble magical attack that Sarin had launched.

As he drew near, the paladin hastily erected some sort of barrier. A bubble of glowing light enveloped her, its brilliance enough to blind eyes and destroy any foul magic that might try to work its way within. But what would happen when the brightest of holy lights was met with the all-consuming darkness? The Keeper raised his staff and a perfidious evil was summoned. A pure shadow from the blackest depths of the earth's bowels rose up from below, effortlessly seeping through the earth and stone underfoot and welling up. Black tendrils, bubbles, and mist erupted from the ground and wrapped around Sarin's barrier of light, gnawing at it, squeezing it, strangling it away...

The two opposing forces struggled for only a short time before the shadows seemingly won, all resistance giving way and the unnatural darkness gradually evaporating away in the sun or draining back into the earth. Expecting to see a shriveled corpse, the Keeper walked to where Sarin had stood and found nothing. It would seem that she had somehow escaped the jaws of darkness, probably with some form of teleportation. Infuriated that an enemy had slain so many of his imps with impunity and then escaped from his grasp, the Master decided that he would unleash his anger upon that little dwarven colony...he knew from his scrying that the assault on the upper levels would soon be staged.

It was perfect timing. Over the next few hours the Keeper used his magic to open a portal into the tunnels Clotho had dug and bring all of his remaining champions there, even those scattered out in the countryside like Emily and Torrens. When Clotho, Xallihion, and Twich returned to the staging point of the insectoid warriors they would find more help ready than they had bargained for.

But there would be equally more trouble than expected...while the one that Clotho had sent above to claim cave-ins had been believed, the dwarven geologists and mystics above had attempted to use their magic to determine the cause of the cave-ins and realized to their horror that all manner of new tunnels had appeared. Something was down there, they knew, and it seemed to have intentionally created cave-ins to kill all of the last expeditions down. Seeing as whatever was down there seemed intent on killing them, the dwarves were quick to begin readying themselves for an attack from below.

Having been far out in the countryside, Torrens was one of the last champions to be collected by the Keeper, which was just as well because he was radiating noticeably more heat than before, which could have raised the temperature of the cavern to quite uncomfortable levels if he had been there for long. On passing through the portal into the cavern, Torrens casually acknowledged the other champions already there and then found some corner where he could stand without inadvertently roasting any of Clotho's insects.

When he found Clotho and Twitch, who were in charge of this particular operation as he had been informed, he was quick to speak out with energetic enthusiasm. "So, we want to kill all the dwarves. Shall we charge them now, or do we have a more subtle plan? I've just eaten a whole forest fire so I'm ready to shoot things."

Emily, far away from the village both in distance and hieght, was lost. Not that she would admit that to the new Kitsune. Flying as a Kitsune was so different. It was like sitting on a chair that flew, rather than blasting flame from your palms like endless afterburner. The problem was, that from so high up, Emily was having trouble with landmarks, and so just floated around hoping to get lucky.
'Are you lost?'The sweet coo of the newest tennant asked.
"Are you shut up?" Emily retorted, with little to no sense at all, but still. Retorts didn't need to make sense, they just needed to retort. However, as she was retorting, a portal suddenly appeared in the sky, far to close to move out of the way, considering her first thought was 'Why would I need a portal?'

Unfortunately, the portal led into a cramped underground tunnel, which did not agree with her rather swift flying in the slightest. So, her second thought was 'Ohh crap, wall!'. She then made sweet love to the business end of the rock-face, as one did, when moving, and then suddenly stopping moving due to a large wall of rock.

Balothiss had stepped aside for the Master to do his work, watching as he became enraged by the sight that Sarin had somehow escaped his attack and the Master seemed to aim his rage towards the depths beneath sending the rest of his champions all over the country side.

He grunted simply and watched the scene unfold silently as he contemplated his escapade in the Plutocrats manor, he smiled cruely and looked towards the sack of treasures that he had taken from the old mans manor.

Octavius was returning to town when the familiar portal enveloped him, expecting to return to the dungeon, he was not at a full gallop into the gathered but rather dismissed the mount spell and dropped the six feet to a stand with the chain of left arms on a rope. He tossed the proof at the keepers feet to dismiss as he wished as he inspected his surroundings.

"This is new, these markings in the corner... Dwarven? Most impressive Sir. Orders?"

While initially Clotho felt a degree of indignation that so many allies had appeared to aid her, she ultimately trusted in the Master's judgment and began incorporating the wealth of new talent and power into her plan. Surprisingly few of the new arrivals approached her, but nevertheless the swarm queen was on hand to respond to any who did. Just as her scheming reached its end, and her various papers and maps gathered neatly off to the side of her makeshift table, Clotho became aware of the air's changing temperature. Immediately her mind raced to discern exactly why such an event would be occurring, and she figured out who might be approaching her an instant before that individual arrived. Her eyes were drawn to the searing brilliance of the fire demon. “Greetings, Torrens. Long time no see. The attack is indeed about to begin, in only a few minutes in fact. My remaining Macula above have informed me that the dwarves, despite my best efforts, have readied themselves for an attack from below. I was hoping to speak to you or another elementalist, in fact, for you are precisely what I need. They expect to be fighting creatures, beasts or soldiers, but instead I will give them an inferno. I would like to send you straight into the heart of their mining operation, to fill their great shafts and cavern buildings with fire from which there will be no escape.”

She glanced over her shoulder briefly, employing a gleaming emerald compound eye to ensure that Twitch, too, was listening. ”Meanwhile, I will give the signal for my Antlions to collapse the upper passages. In one fell swoop their walls, buildings, and settlement will be undermined and in a tumult. In addition, holes will be opened up for our soldiers to pour from and overwhelm them. First wave will be my Lambent, zooming from the holes with my Myrmidons in their clutches and dropping them into position. From there the Lambent will provide aerial support for the entire horde, including the other champions and Xahillion. Remember, we are fighting to eradicate the enemy, but also to possess their things. Destroy nothing needlessly.”

Twenty minutes later, the signal was given, and with a thunderous, bone-shaking series of cracks and rumbles, the attack began.

Athinar watched this all silently, taking it in, with a smirk on his face. Now, if he didn't have any memories, what would he ask? Now, if he remembered this particular demon Warlock, then he liked people being subservient. However, that was his downfall, last time. He oppressed his minions too much last time, and they worked together to bring him down. Now that would be embarrassing, getting taken out by the Denizens? However, Athinar couldn't say that the same hadn't happened to him; however, he never had to fight his own minions, Denizens or no. Effective management solved most problems.

Passing through the portal with the others, Athinar reached out with his senses, and snatched up a strand of the Warlock's magic, examining it. He didn't even try and hide it, instead preferring to look like a curious, recently summoned minion. If the Warlock tried to sift through Athinar's memories, he would meet an obsidian wall within his mind, one that blocked all penetration. It wasn't magical, as this body was nothing more than a puppet, so it had no memories beyond that of the recent moments.

Athinar looked to the Demon's minions, and saw Torrens! Athinar had liked working with that little demon, a few worlds ago. They hadn't destroyed or conquered it, but they had a lot of fun trying. Torrens might recognize the fifth Keeper he worked under, but Athinar kept a perfect poker face, the same grin on his face not changing at all, as he looked to the people. A Mind Flayer, a Bug Queen, a Human, a Kobold, a Homunculus with a Kitsune hitching a ride, a Demon, and of course, the Big Demon himself.

Looking around, he saw that he was in a Dwarven settlement, which the other Keeper had apparently assaulted while he had been attacking the village. Surrounded by bugs, Athinar assumed that the strange bug-lady had assumed control of the attack, but the kobold wasn't at the village, so maybe he was there too. Clearing his throat, and grinning evilly, Athinar said to the Warlock, "So, Master, what exactly do you want me to do? Why was I brought here?" Athinar knew perfectly well why the demon wanted him, but he had aeons of hiding his thoughts and facial expressions from others under his belt, so the Warlock, confident in his superiority, would most likely disregard him as a threat, and see him as a tool.

Balothiss snorted and smirked as he stood near the Master, Athinar was fool at most but a powerful evil fool who crossed the Master.

Athinar seemed to have lost most of his prior memories before he had been killed by the Master of which Balothiss was the only person to actually witness Athinar's grotesque and gruesome death.

Balothiss made sure in his mind that he would remember to tell Athinar about his death and his actions prior to his death, he would get the him alone at some point and hopefully give Athinar his old memories as best as he could.

He looked around at everyone who he had not yet associated himself with, many of which were quite peculiar beings such as a Mind Flayer and a Kobold even a Homunculus who was quite good looking and attractive.

He was particularly interested in the Demon which lumbered around, all of this made him feel like less of an anomaly and more normal than he had felt before.

"What are your next orders Master, and if I may ask what sort of magic does my sword hold now?"

Balothiss asked the Master as he shifted the large sack of treasures with a slight tug and it was soon beside him.

Looking at the new arrivals and who could only be the Master, Xallihion's thoughts turn inward as he begins building plans, The Master is obviously far more than he appears, no human could have that much power inside of him. This alliance might just be far more beneficial than I thought. His pieces look to be fairly strong as well, but we will see soon. As he listens to Clotho's battle plans, he will speak into the mind of every piece and the Master, How do you purpose to communicate with each other during the battle? I see nothing more than simple messengers and those are incredibly slow. I have an alternative that will allow for each of you to speak mind to mind with each other, but it will require you to open part of your mind to me and allow myself inside. And do not worry, my touch will not reveal anything you do not want revealed, it will be exactly like speaking with each other but with our minds and at a distance of roughly two miles. I can make the range much farther, but that would require time and materials that I do not have with me at the moment.

No sooner had he made his appearance was the Keeper swarmed by several of his various followers, all seemingly curious about their orders or wanting something. Xallihion was rather interesting. He hadn't been watching Clotho when she had encountered the Mind Flayer, but it seemed that she had enlisted him into the Horde. The Master used telepathy to briefly communicate to his newest recruit a short welcome before he turned to address all of the ones gathered around him.

"Clotho is preparing for her forces to assault the upper levels. We shall assist her in any way possible, and be sure to retrieve the magical explosives! Those are what we have come to retrieve." He did not bother to answer Balothiss' question; even if he could remember what he had done to the sword a few minutes ago, he wouldn't have bothered to waste his breath. Balothiss would have a chance to see for himself soon enough.

Suddenly the stone itself began to groan and crack, a terrifying sound considering that it signaled an impending collapse of the tunnels and certain death for all inside. These tunnels were new and not particularly shoddy, so the Master was correct in guessing that this was the doing of the dwarves above. Geomancy. They were trying to cave in their own mines to trap or kill whatever was coming up for them.

Unfortunately, they hadn't counted on a formidable warlock being present among their attackers. While manipulating the earth was certainly not the strength of the Master (or almost any demon, really) his magic was versatile enough to quickly sense the geomancers above and nullify their ritual. "The dwarves are trying to bring down this entire mountain upon us! I will stay here and counter their magic, but there is no time to waste. Go!"

After an exhaustively long charge upon countless dark and winding tunnels, the Horde would find themselves faced with several lines of dwarven pikemen. The creatures' great spears and shields made their formation all the more strong. Some of the rear lines of pikemen had hastily erected barricades of rubble in front of them to help stay any attack on them, and in the back were several dwarves bringing in wheelbarrows of explosives. It seemed that they still intended to collapse the lower levels if given the chance, earth magic or no.

In the underverse the lone sentient soul damned to never know peace hovered. The fear of the dwarves was strong but it was not the strength that fueled this wretch. It needed human suffering. The tears of eyes who beheld the last breath of a loved one. The gasp of a woman as some unholy terror took her to the depth of hell while a heart still beat in her chest. The suffering of a family under the hands of a tax collector. None of that happening yet. Not like the town that woke it from the dark oblivion.

The oblivion called its cell showed nothing, held nothing. Regardless the creature could be seen. It's aura burned even in the cold abyss of the void. Like a moth to a flame the soul of a once champion of justice lingered like a shadow around this burning effigy of evil. Eternity in its own way was a big part of the curse. It would wait for as long as it took. There were still people out there masquerading as good. Fake good was more destructive then any dark deed done on this plane. They needed to be taught what evil truly is and that it's real.

Emily was dragged along with the flow, not sure what she was going to do, she was no front line fighter after all. And when she saw the dwarven line, it just made her even more nervous. But, the barrels of explosives did give her an idea. Maybe, with her no-so-great-but-still-kinda-good Earth Magic, she could harden the walls so they wouldn't blow apart, and then blow the barrels into the Dwarven line with her slightly-less-good-than-Earth-but-still-not-that-bad Storm Magic, and then detonate it all and watch bits of dwarf fly all over the place while the walls stayed solid.
'That's your plan?' her Kitsune asked, incrediously. Emily was forced to admit it was a stupid plan, but stupid worked a lot of the time. Half the horde was made up of stupid things, and yet here they were.

So, putting her plan into action, Emily crouched down and placed a hand on the Earth, probing it. She could sense the dwarves and the Master clashing over control, but was certain she could sneak around them both, and swipe control from them both. Working without Runes would be interesting, but she could focus her magic musically, something which very few mages did.
"Early one morning, around the first of may, a priest came wandering into a woodland glave.." she started, putting all her power into this. It wasn't some flash and flick thing like her fires, after all.

Torrens had been at the head of the charge the whole way from the lower caves to the dwarves, literally brimming with energy and confident in his own durability. Once he saw the dwarves, he was about to immolate the lot of them when he noticed the large loads of explosives they had. If they were out in the open he might have continued anyway, but even Torrens had enough of a head to know that having those explosives go off would be a very bad thing for all of the Horde, as it would lock them down here and likely kill the more fragile members. Some more care would be required.

With his plan set, Torrens walked right into the line of pikes and shields. While such a barrier would be formidable to any being of flesh, Torrens' form took minimal punishment from blades, so he was able to push his way through the bristles of the pikes with no fear of harm beyond the loss of a small amount of fire. While the dwarves stabbed at him as he approached, Torrens just angled his chest to the side so the spears would be deflected aside not stop his advance. Once he was up close to the shields, Torrens reached over the shield of the nearest dwarf, aimed his palm at the dwarf's head, and released a bolt of concentrated heat which manifested itself as plasma, melting through the helmet and skull of the dwarf. With that dwarf dead, Torrens climbed on top of the corpse so he could occupy the same space as the dwarf once did. In position, Torrens swept out his arms down the row of dwarven pikemen he was in, and cast out long jets of fire, which swallowed up the entire row and engulfed those dwarves in flames. While some may have turned their shields to partially protect themselves from the fire, that would leave them open to attack from the rest of the Horde.

That, however, was just one row of dwarves. Before Torrens could repeat the performance on the next, he was tripped up by a strong sweep of a pike to the legs. Torrens hit the ground hard and landed flat on his back. The dwarf which had tripped him swiftly followed up with a stab to the chest, clearly intended to run him through. However, the pike hit Torrens' chest and stopped as though it had hit solid stone. The blow was accompanied by a bright flash of intense heat at the point of impact. Torrens used the dwarf's momentary blindness to cast a fire bolt through the helmet's mask and into his face, melting it.

Torrens climbed to his feet, ready to battle once more, although after these first seconds of battle the situation may have changed markedly from when he had first charged in to break up the lines.

Octavius took his orders and smirked as he used his wand to summon a new mount in the form of a riding spider. It took significant more charges from the wand than he cared to use frivolously so he saved it for moments like this. Strapped into the saddle, he took off along the wall to the ceiling. The pikeman braced themselved to attack the lone rider, when he started to get blurry as if he were stretching or distorting before there were suddenly eight more of him on the walls. He used his ring of mirror image to occupy some of their forces as he barreled in.

Funny thing about giant swords like his, they were actually used to chop off the tips of pikes to provide an opening for other troops and far be it from him to go against tradition. So from a surprise angle did he swing his heavy blade to provide an opportunity for another of the group to size their chance. Of course the pikemen got their good shots in, he had certainly felt at least one tip get him in the thigh and he could see the green ichor oozing from the spiders bulbous butt. Wounded, he has managed to break through the lines as they removed all eight other false selves. It only worked once a day but once was all he needed.

Following along with the horde as they rush to the outskirts of the outpost, Xallihion looked at the pike-men and thought to himself, At least they will put up some amusing resistance. Gathering his power in his hands and tentacles moving, the power will erupt from his hands in a powerful have of force and flinging the Dwarves hit by it like a child would throw around a doll. With a quick look at the others and their attempts to break the line, This will be a good chance to get an idea of their power. Gathering his power and throwing a Force Tentacle spell in the middle of a section of the line with no allies nearby, Xallihion's mind will reach out and touch Emily's, What magic are you casting? If it is a fire spell I can help shape it to do more damage to the pitiful Dwarves resistance.