Chapter One

A Storm of Sand and Steel

---

The second Moonsong expedition has landed upon the south-western shores of Everstrine unhindered, apparently ignored by Gargth's agents, or missed by his spells of wide-reaching observation. Though the seas carried them mercifully - unlike those that came before - the expedition will have a rough time of it from here on in.

Everstrine is not a gigantic island. It has a human population of half a million, which is less than most of the Alliance's major cities. However, what it lacks in size, it makes up for in geographical diversity. Thick and ancient woodland cover its western and northern faces, though these are divided by humid bogs. To the east, a cracked and broken grey scale landscape assails the observer with its jagged teeth, fissures and numerous pits. In the centre of the landmass itself, you'd find the great and treacherous Spirandor Mountains, where snow blasts their peaks from winter to winter, and from summer to summer.

Our journey starts with neither of these however; indeed, it starts with what is arguably the most treacherous stretch of the Everstrine landscape. It is a desert all to itself, and they call it The Great Dunes. Many speculate that it once belonged to the sea, but over the progression of years, the water has retreated to leave behind a barren and empty plain of sand. Nothing grows here, and the land would hold little value were it not for the salt-reserves found in the region.

It was for the salt that colonists established Sandbrick over three hundred years ago. An old town, but by no means ancient, it is a sturdy and blunt fixture built by the hands of mortal men who had little access to building materials beyond sand and water. Its buildings are robust and strong, crafted from sandstone and cement. Its wall, a mighty construction that circles the entire settlement, is likewise made, and thus the town appears to almost to be rising out of the desert itself.

And it is here that the expedition, on their third day, are drawing close to. Having moved in from the west, departing their ships in favour of a tiresome march under the blazing sun, they have come within scouting range and have thus begun to explore Sandbrick's situation. This is where our story begins.

---

Sandbrick burned.

Pillars of black smoke rose from the town to blot the sky, and the vibrant glow of raging fires glittered in the afternoon sun. Even from the back of his swan, and half a league above, Emperor Rainald XII could hear the din of a desperate battle waged far below.

His men, three hundred of them, cluttered the air above the city. They circled in force, but none descended - though Captain Gregnar pined frequently to do just that. The Emperor spotted his little spirit-pet easily; the swan he rode flapped its wings as if in a frenzy, and its long neck danced about like a length of loose string in the wind. This stood in stark contrast to those flown by the Moon Guard, who used measured movements and paced flaps of their wings.

The Swan Riders had flown ahead of the host, to scout Sandbrick and to see if it still stood. There were certainly other alternatives available beyond being physically present; no doubt some of the expidition's leaders had access to the power of far-sight. However, the aging Emperor didn't trust much in magic; in fact, he didn't trust in much.

Captain Gregnar passed him close, causing the Emperor's swan to rear and hiss in annoyance.

"We going down there or not, ya Lordship?" Gregnar called cheerfully.

"We are, my good Captain," the Emperor's voice was heavy, like rusted iron, and sounded just as worn. "Let us see what this game has in store for us."

The Captain beat the air with a mailed first, "that's more like it. I was getting bored!"

"Well I wouldn't want that," the Emperor replied with a hoarse shout. His words carried more truth than all the clairvoyance in the world.

---

It is time. This city falls. Today. This minute.

"Yes," Gargth agreed, his words sounding wet. "This has gone on for longer than planned. Time is scarce, is it not?"

You have no idea, mortal. Your insubordination threatens everything. There will be no more of that.

Gargth's head rocked back, and he let out a blood curdling laugh, gritty and sodden with corruption. "You did not enjoy the gift of fifty thousand souls?"

You almost killed yourself with our power. You are not as smart as you think, mortal. You would do well to remember this.

The Fallen wizard waved a hand, "I've not time to hear your prattle. Leave me. I've a city to fell."

Raising his arms skywards, Gargth opened his mental channel to the Shadow Realm instantly, and by thought alone. He reached deep into its dark bowels, and drunk deeply of its power. Within in an instant an intense energy surged through him, burning, threatening to rip the skin from his bones. At the same time, a cold feeling, colder than ice, racked his chest.

"By the Pact created, I shall see my will be done!" he yelled, bringing his arms down so that his open palms faced the city. He quickly rattled out some long forgotten bastard tongue, and the energy poured out of him, forming into a vibrant purple ball between his outstretched hands.

In a moment, he would release that ball, hurl it towards the town, and the Count's brave yet foolish defenders would fall beneath an explosion. Sandbrick and its people would be reduced to one giant crater. Such power had not been wielded since before the beginning of time, when Gods still walked the mortal realms.

You are not alone. Someone watches.

Gargth's eyes widened suddenly, and he looked skywards. Just then, dozens of great white birds came into view from across the horizon, and the fallen wizard watched them curiously. As they came closer and closer, he soon saw that they bore men in armour.

"What have we here?" Gargth asked, amused. With an intricate gesture, he dissipated the ball of energy and dismissed it back to the Shadow Realm. "Giant birds and knights?"

Throwing his own arcane reserves into use, Gargth used his power of far-sight, and brought the image of the aerial warriors close. Their shields and emblems left little secret as to who they were, or why they were here.

Survivors. You incompetent mortal. None were supposed to live!

"Not survivors. These men look fresh. The Alliance hasn't taken long to send another wave of their foolishness," Gargth said bitterly. "Open your gates, for I shall bring more souls shortly."

The Fallen Wizard was surrounded by ten thousand of his Shadow Warriors. Each of them made from the sand beneath his feet, and they stood in rigid square formations before Sandbrick, looking on without emotion or idle movement. They were finely detailed, as if crafted by the delicate hands of artists, and bore an uncanny resemblance to mortal man. However, they were far from it. Gargth had moulded their forms to be as such, using the resources of the locale, and had thrown the corrupted inhabitants of the Shadow Realm into their grainy bosoms. To say they were alive was not accurate; to say they were dead did them an injustice.

The swan riders made a sudden dive, driving through the air and towards Gargth and his army. The wizard merely smiled. He threw out some more of his arcane words, and his eyes saw beyond Sandbrick, past the swans, and to the west. There he saw an entire army; thousands strong. How it had evaded his senses, or his own agents, baffled him. Then again, he hadn't been expecting the Alliance to respond so quickly. He cursed his own complacency.

As the swans drew into arrow range, Gargth and the ten thousand heads of his minions looked up at once, and in a flash, they collapsed to the sands from whence they had come, leaving nothing but a vast cloud of dust in their wake.

And then Gargth was in the middle of them. This army. This pitiful army. He looked around him, seeing columns of troops marching this way and that, navigating the dunes. Some had stopped after spotting him, giving him a bemused look. A man had suddenly appeared in the very centre of the entire formation, divided though it was into the various regiments composing it, and only those with a sense for the arcane would have realised exactly who it was.




Using his arcane might to carry his voice for a league in all directions, he laughed - nay - he cackled. The sound shot across the desert, causing those closest to him to cover their ears.

"Tremble, warriors of the Alliance. Doom has come, and it has come swiftly." His terrible voice echoed across the dunes, causing parts the landscape to crack open. Some dunes even collapsed, threatening to bury those nearby.

He raised his hands skywards, and immediately thick grey clouds stormed across the sky, bringing with them rain and lightning. The sun lost itself behind this unnatural weather formation, and darkness fell across The Great Dunes.

Several bolts of lightning smashed into the ground, striking randomly into the army. In an instant, hundreds were diving for cover or protecting themselves from the bolts of energy that steadily melted sand into glass.

"You want a war?" his continued. "Then it is yours to have!"

Where the bolts had struck, beings began to emerge from the sand. First there were dozens of them, and then there were hundreds. They looked like men - almost life like - but they were made entirely of sand, and bore grim expressions of evil intent. They surged towards their nearest foe with elongated claws for fingers, and wailed like banshees as they did so.

The warriors of the second expedition rallied themselves, as Gargth's deranged cackle filled their ears.

“Feel that, sir?” Asked Alicia. The clever Witchblade captain was as sensitive to magic as Yrios himself was. An impressive feat indeed. Above that she was as clever as her mentor. It wasn’t a question. In fact he didn’t need her to say it. But it was for those around them. “Yes. He’s close.” Still they kept going in the caravan of legends. So many faces Yrios had heard of. So many names Alicia ever only read in books. If anything, this force was much more dangerous than the previous one. One the Guild did not participate in. But now they were here in full force and more. Their Grandmaster hadn’t marched with them for years.

Eventually they reached the besieged town. The Guild members all dismounted and their horses immediately dashed away. Trying to get a safe spot. They arrived just on top of a dune and saw the smoke rise from Sandbrick. Even Yrios remained silent, as he felt the powerful wizard draw the massive power from the shadow realm. But when darkness gathered, the Grandmaster was not so foolish that he would just stand around. “Prepare!” he yelled. The Witchblades behind him drew their blades, while the sorcerers pulled out their orbs and warlocks gripped their staves.

When the lightning started striking the ground, every one of the Guild felt the dark power coursing through it. “Summons!” yelled Alicia, who herself rushed into a crater. Dust had yet to settle but everyone around it could see several bright red flashes, and finally a white one. When the sand revealed the content of the crater, Alicia stood on a heap of sand, her cursed blade seemingly stabbing air. “Don’t just stand there! Kill!” she yelled, as more bolts slammed into the earth.

“Ward! Warlocks! Form me a ward!” yelled Yrios, as ripped a shadow warrior with his gauntlet. Ten warlocks obeyed and formed a circle to commence their incantation. They all clapped and as they opened their arms again a shield of blue began to form before them. Creeping towards the other wards. In little time it grew and grew until a half-orb protected them from the lightning above. “Defend the ward! Defend the ward!” Yrios had to bark his orders as he pushed some foolish apprentice into the shield. Shadow warriors soon tried to follow, only to realize that their very aspect denied them entry. Mad with anger they bashed upon the blue glass. Until a warlock’s eyes glowed in the same bright blue. With his staff he pointed at the shadow warriors and chanted some obscure incantion. A blinding light was soon followed by some unnatural crackling. Those who had their eyes on the warlock no doubt saw a bolt of lightning split from the staff and push its way through the shadow warriors.

Sorcerers used their crystal chards and orbs to fight off the shadow warriors getting too close to the shield. Within the shield Yrios found Alicia, who yelled over the clashing: “We need shut that storm down!” Yrios only nodded and looked up. Feeling the shadow realm’s pull, he could only guess how much power currently flowed over the very earth as waves. “We need more mages! Our warlocks can’t channel a spell if they are fighting these shadow warriors!” Yrios yelled back, from the corner of his eye he saw a warlock fighting to keep the shield up. “Entary shunt neghim!” he yelled with his arm outstretched. Blind blue flames shot out of from his hand, coating the shadow warriors. Burning the magic from them. “Take the Witchblades! Cleave a path! Get me every wizard or mage the other bands don’t care for! Get them here. Now go!” Alicia did as she was command. Cleaving her way through the horde that was growing. Temporary relieving each band to ask for their mages or wizard, only to leave immediately after.

The Betrayer looked back from his position near the head of the unwieldy formation. His smaller, more nimble group had an easier time of things, neither fatigued by the constantly shifting terrain nor restricted in their movements by numbers. They had been marching ahead in a loose chevron, the dozen strong force was dwarfed by the armies around it.

He doubted that the rest of the alliance was pleased with the contribution from Morrins, a dozen men, barely a squads worth. The betrayer would have been happy if he'd had those that he had begun this ordeal with. Two hundred would be better than a mere twelve. Better again would be the three thousand that had fought with him all those years ago, before a man named Alexander Scariot had the hubris to presume to overthrow his lord.

The noise had caught his attention and the lightning pushed the champion into action. He held up a fist to signal a halt Swords slid from sheaths and pole arms swung to bear facing back the way they had come. He pointed towards a tall dune near where the fighting looked to now be breaking out. When he spoke his voice rasped as if the speaker was unused to using it. Regardless, it echoed with the familiarity of command.

"Regroup there. Cinder, ready a Flare. Stitches, Lance, Stout take point. Breaker and Cook on the flanks. Captain, get us cover. Move."

The small force broke into motion, shifting into formation with long practiced ease. Their feet churned the sand as the broke into a run towards the dune. Behind him a warm glow signified his mage drawing power for a brief moment before they were surrounded by a blackness deeper than that which had blotted out the sky.

Their formation crested the dune, giving them a view of the situation before them. Rain wetting the sand made their footing more certain as the leading rank faced the center of the melee below.

"Cinder Go. Captain, Drop the veil."

The mage in his black cloak and antiquated armor stuck his staff upright in the sand. A glowing nimbus surrounded his hand that he then threw up into the air. It blossomed into a sphere of fire that drifted lazily into the sky, illuminating the hilltop and sizzling as raindrops struck it. Either it would serve to rally allied forces to them or at least draw some of the enemy from below.

The latter happened first. A mass of the sand demons surged up the hill towards them and soon figures began to fall from the steady blasts of high speed pyromancy from Cinder. The small force formed a circle on the top of the dune, weapons going to work with deadly practice. The Forsworn held for now but soon numbers may begin to turn the tide. This desert was far too open for an effective defense.

The desert sun beat down on Shaerel Nurami. The weather of Everstrine, at least as far as she had seen it, did not agree with her. She was accustomed to the mild summers of Barthon, a land seemingly perpetually blanketed by overcast. Some would call it dreary, but to Shaerel it was what home was like. She was eager to be out of the Great Dunes, which by her estimation seemed to be an endless sandscape. She did not like it. If Gargth hadn't seen them land he would certainly find them in the open desert, where only the dunes provided cover.

Of course none of her concerns were made obvious to those around her. Her face remained as it usually was, her mouth drawn into a slight upturned smile. She was almost constantly dominated by an air of pleasantness. It was here that she would have to act the commander and the envoy- she must in one turn seem a capable, inspiring leader and in the next play the part of diplomat. She was unsure how the other commanders would take her; in her home country she was often regarded as little more than a novelty. She learned to play into the expectations of those around her. If she acted as the young foolish princess that men had expected her to be it would set them at ease making it all the easier to surprise them with her strength. This was the simpler way to navigate the political world of her home country, but here she fully expected things to be different. Different cultures would cross pollinate here in the Moonsong Alliance's second armada and she would not be treated as a princess. For all she knew she would be accepted all the same as the others, or perhaps she would be despised even more.

Time would tell, for now all she could do was march.

She looked to her right. There rode her faithful knight, Sir Amery Hartsweel. He towered above her on his great warhorse, looking more the commander than her. It irked her slightly but she had long learned to not let such feelings get in the way. For all she cared the other captains could think him commander, it was the opinion of her soldiers she cared about- the Everstrine campaign would end, hopefully soon, but if she could not prove herself here it would be a long while until she got the chance again. She saw Sir Hartsweel, who had been becoming more elderly by the day, wipe a line of sweat off his forehead with his iron gauntlet. The weather was treating him worse than her, that much was clear. She was sure his age was some factor. He was still a capable warrior, she knew, but she also knew that he didn't have much battle left in him. Soon he would be an old man and she would have to care for him as he cared for her. Such thoughts distressed her as no other could. To her Sir Hartsweel was the model of what a knight should be, and to see him slowly reaching the end of his knightly days was a sad thought.

Plus she couldn't well find a new captain in the middle of the desert. She shook away the thought. She had no doubt that Amery would not just survive their campaign, but also prove her wrong. But all the same the idea gnawed at her.

To her left was her 'honor guard' so to speak, although they were less for her sake and more for her sword, Dorendul. Four men carried the wooden case containing the gargantuan weapon and another stood at their head. Their capes were marked red, distinguishing them from others in the company. The mans at their lead was Nivoh Sil'Sharin. His skin was brown burnished by long hours in the sun. Clearly he was used to the desert heat, having grown in a desert much like the Great Dunes. He was an ex-mercenary that had come to join her host, one whom she trusted in greatly. After all, she had given him the charge of protecting her Dorendul; a possession which she prized over all others. He had the additional benefit of being a towering behemoth of a man, and strong to boot. His race is a bastard crossbreed of humans and giants. She shuddered to think about how the two races copulated, but that mattered little. What was important is that he stood twice as large as any human man. Of course this is all to say that he can wield Dorendul almost as effectively as she can, making him a good choice to lead the caravan.

And to her back was her host. 300 of the finest soldiers in Barthon wielding lances, swords, bows, and many other manner of weapon. She had no doubt they were capable soldiers but she had yet to see them in action. The men had been practicing together but she was still apprehensive of their first display in combat. She knew they were also apprehensive of her- she had gained their begrudging respect but she was acutely aware of their doubts. Able warrior she may be most wondered if a woman could truly lead men in battle. As long as they followed her orders she would let them hold their doubts, eventually she would give them no choice but to trust her command. She knew that despite her gender she could lead as able as any man, for she had been training her entire life for this opportunity. She spent her time studying tactics and the sword while other girls spent their time practicing knitting and manners.

The time for her men to prove themselves would come sooner than she predicted.

It all happened at once. She heard the terrible cackling voice behind her, coming from within their own army. It was Gargth- he had come to challenge them directly. Suddenly the orange sun had disappeared to be replace with clouds. It was the work of magic, not a natural change of the weather. She looked up to her captain and they exchanged a mutual nod. She took a deep breath, charging her body with the power of mana. She turned and called across her host, her voice booming across the dessert. "Prepare yourselves men! This is our chance to end the fight before it had begun!" The army wheeled itself around to face their enemy, the wizard that was now in the midst. Weapons were drawn and whispers were traded. The men were confused- the attack was coming from within, not without. The sky suddenly came alive with sparks of electricity and then there was no time for confusion. Bolts of arcane lightning striking the men below. In the place of those that fell to the magical strikes rose soldiers of sand- the enemy's forces were spawning from the ground below their feet, and the battle was joined before anyone knew it. She wheeled around to her right and called out, "Nivoh!" The half-giant nodded, Dorendul already in his hand. In one motion he tossed the gigantic sword towards her. She caught it by the hilt and raised it into fighting position. She turned to her opposite side, addressing her knight, "Amery, lead the cavalry as best you can- the enemy is already among us, assure that our own men do not get trampled by their charge." The knight nodded.

She did not hesitate- she would lead from the front. She braced herself and then took a great leap, diving into the spot where the fighting looked thickest, weapon in hand.

---

The storm swirled and raged, lightning bolts falling in ever greater numbers. They exploded with the roar akin to cannon fire, sending chunks of burning debris in all directions. More Shadow Warriors sprung up from the sand, clawing their way to freedom and leaping at the nearest Alliance warrior.

Initially the battle had gone the way of a chaotic melee, with Gargth's minions sprouting from all directions and driving wedges between comrades-in-arms, but the Alliance seemed to be quick to react. The Fallen Wizard was amused by their trivial efforts to prevent the inevitable. Did they truly think they could win? He had slain many more than they had, many who were greater than even their best.

What hope did this rag-tag folly possibly think they could cling to?

A few arrows whizzed into him, though they broke apart before they touched his flesh as if an ivisible barrier barred their passage. A few random magical attacks followed, as the various spell-casters of the Alliance's army took pot-shots at him inbetween fighting the Shadow Warriors.

Not much apparently.

"FIGHT AND DIE," his magically augmented voice carried across the din of a desperate melee. "YOUR SOULS WILL BE FRESH HARVEST FOR THE SHADOW REALM!"

As if to underline his point, Gargth lifted his left arm - a corrupted limb, seemingly made from several hundred twigs and branches - and gesticulated until a purple rolling sphere appeared in his hand. He'd directly contacted the Shadow Realm once more, harnessing its well of power. He marvelled at himself and his accomplishments, as the raw energy surged through him, threatening to once again obliterate his physical form with its sheer primal strength.

A blue shield had formed around a band of Alliance soldiers, and they used it to great effect against the droves of Shadow Warriors surging towards them. Gargth sensed the shield's energy, and immediately understood its design. Its existence offended him greatly.

They are of Grandmaster Yrios's Guild. Powerful in magic, all. Withdraw from this folly, mortal. You overestimate your odds, here. The Guild of Tal’Zaroth is formidable, and you have yet to recover your full strength.

Lowering his hand so that the sphere - the size of a man's head - pointed at the blue shield, he cackled madly. "They shall die all the same," he muttered with a sneer.

Then you are a fool.

With a simple word of the arcane, Gargth sent the purple sphere hurtling towards the Mage Guild of Tal’Zaroth's position, urging his destructive attack to blast them straight off the face of the earth. The moment the sphere left his hand, Gargth felt a jolt echo throughout his body, as the after-affects of tapping the Shadow Realm momentarily weakened him. He fell to one knee, and the invisible barrier protecting his physical form flickered with an obvious intermittent glow of orange.

If the Alliance were to destroy Gargth, the time was nigh. If the Mage Guild of Tal’Zaroth wanted to avoid being reduced to ash, and their souls harvested to the darkest corners of arcane lore, then they'd best stop the formidable Shadow Bolt coming their way.

Alexis was upon her Cerberus looking as her Pit Fiends moved through the sand dunes as if they were not there. The big creatures barely cared for the other soldiers around them and so they moved in front of the group so that they don't crush someone under their feet. The road here was hard as flame breathing demons and water don't go along together and Alexis had to remove the horns of two Pit Fiends to remind them she was still in charge of them. Even Alexis , half demon as she was felt weakened by the road on the sea. The only one that didn't seem to care about all this was Joe. A mute as he was , he could only talk with Alexis telepathically but he was silent all the way on the sea.

Joe was flying above the army on Melkor ( his Beholder ) acting as a scout for the army when he finally stopped. " The city is burning , Alexis. We shall meet the enemy there. " said Joe telepathically to Alexis. When Alexis heard that she grinned and yelled to her demonic horde. " Hold maggots ! The enemy is near and blood shall be spilled, you came with me all this way. Now it's time to spill some blood and show the Alliance what we demons are made of ! All right ? "
All around her the demons made a war cry that could be heard from miles away. All the Pit Fiends took out their swords at the same time and released another war cry for the enemy to know they are being challenged to a fight.

Apparently the enemy responded faster than anyone imagined as the sky suddenly turned black, lighting hit the ground and the cursed mage voice could be heard from inside their lines. " Magic. He is here. Let's kill him faster. " said Joe with a half-bored voice. Alexis directed her army towards the mage and soon sand creatures appeared all around the alliance's forces.
" Kill them all ! Show them no mercy ! I shall go after the mage myself. " yelled Alexis as she used her Cerberus to plow a way through the sand creatures towards Gargth.
The demonic hordes glided through the air towards where the battle was thickest and started to squash and kill every creature they could find. They fought with no mercy and their blood lust could be seen by all. Joe started to move his hands and soon a mighty portal appeared in the sky. 100 imps appeared from it and soon they were upon the sand creatures , ready to try to rip them apart. More like to act as a living shield for the other warriors of the alliance.

Alexis jumped off her Cerberus letting it fight on his own so that she can join the other Champions of the alliance in the fight. She moved as a blur between the sand creatures , slashing them apart as she did. Some did manage to hit her but her armor could handle the hits for now. She was amazed to see another woman , probably a Champion with a huge sword in her hand fighting with the sand creatures. The sword was as big as the Vorpal swords her demons had and was impressive to see a human carry such a weapon. She made it a plan to talk with this woman after the fight, she should prove most interesting.

The storm soon picked up and more lightning hit the ground. With it , more Shadow Warriors appeared to fight the alliance's warriors. Alexis was fighting with the Shadow Warriors when the barrier made by one of the other Champions formed. She quickly directed Joe to help them however he could and went back to fighting. Soon after she heard Gargth talk again and saw his formidable energy sphere move towards the barrier but saw something else too. Gargth fell on one knee. He was getting weaker and it was time to end this once and for all.
Alexis started running as fast as she could towards Gargth.

@Diggerton

From behind a nearby hill, a sound resembling a mix between several steam whistles and the roar of a dragon boomed, heralding the arrival of the Makhania dragoons!

With unexpected speed, the clockwork dragon of Sir Tobrew flew over the hilltop with its wings spread fully and with its rider holding the lance in a couched upright position in his right hand.
The mechanical beast flew at a measly ten metres height, which cast a gust of wind which strongly gripped any loose cloth of the forsworn setting up their battle lines below as the machine whizzed past above.

Tobrew was running his trusty 'Aurora Kaotica Eleanora' at maximum speed over the battlefield, the entire situation was a mess, the alliance forces was trying to form battle lines, but it was made close to impossible when the enemy force was rising from the ground amongst them.
The lightning bolts were getting tighter and tighter, with a few well placed tilts Tobrew dodged two of them but had to fully pull in the wings and roll to his left to avoid a third.

Some distance away he saw Gargth letting loose a orb of destruction, with two alliance champions closing in. In another direction he saw a pocket of Eldanorré’s Loyalists who hadn't managed to get a proper battle line formed and risked getting surrounded by the emerging sand warriors of Gargth.
This simply will not do.

With a sudden jerk, 'Aurora Kaotica Eleanora' stopped her momentum and held herself aloft with heavy wingfalls as a lightning bolt struck where they would have been the next second.
With a tug of the reins to his left, sir Tobrew De Castillair had them fall sideways in that same direction before fully beginning to fly.
With a pair of quick wing strokes the dragon was up to combat speed, as it once more shrieked out with its distinct steam powered roar.
-"Behold! The divine light guides our path!" Sir Tobrew shouted just before the techno-arcana warbeast opened it's jaws fully, within the jaws, streaks of light seemed to form a ball of light as a whining sound grew in intensity.
Before its force threw back the head of the clockwork dragon, from its jaws a constant beam of orange light streamed out and slammed into the ground with great force.
The constant movement had the beam move through the front ranks of the sand warriors closest to the beseeched loyalists, easily moving far quicker than a quick courser the constant beam of holy sanctity danced through the dark sand men and annihilated all it touched, the beam cut a foot deep trench all along where it hit the ground.
The annihilation of the enemies closest to them gave the loyalists a pause to fully gain their cohesion.

As Tobrew stopped the strike he ascended and turned right, watching for a new target.

---

Rhino and his band of pirates felt hot under the harsh desert sun and he wondered how far the coalition army would have to march before seeing any real action. His wait wouldn't be too long when the evil fallen wizard appeared and made the sky go dark and rain and lightning began to pour down from the heavens.

"Aaah that cursed sun no longer beats down on us, I feel more ready for the fight! Men no one comes up against us without paying the price! Not here! Not Ever! YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Rhino cried out with charismatic fury and his crew gave shouts from his inspiration and raised their weapons in preparation for battle. The battle soon started when their foe summoned hundreds of these terrible human-like monsters and Rhino drew his twin sabres.

"Attack!" he ordered and his band of pirates went on the offensive with a whirlwind of elemental spells, swords swing and crossbows shooting. With his insane speed Rhino cut through dozens of shadow warriors with his blades. After he had downed several more of these foul beasts Rhino used his chimera magic to summon a mammoth and a bear. He then fused the two creatures together to form a Mammoth Bear.



The beast was massive and it was fierce. It gave a terrifying roar and Rhino jumped up on the creature's back.

"Show these scallywags what primal fury looks like!" he commanded the beast and the Mammoth Bear went into a frenzy and began slicing through tons of Gargth's minions. While on top of the beast Rhino saw the evil wizard cast some kind of spell that was headed for Guild of Tal'Zaroth who had some kind of magic barrier up and he hoped that they would be able to counter such a terrible ability. He then noticed that whatever that spell was it had weakened Gargth and now was his chance to end this scourge's rein of terror.

"I'm cutting of this terrible serpent's head!" he shouted and had the Mammoth Bear charged towards Gargth. The beast was poised to slice the wizard to pieces unless he defended himself against Rhino's massive creature.

-

For hours they had marched, tabards blowing in the gentle breeze that carried over the dunes. Knights in mail and champions in plate rode upon fine steeds; banners and icons of faith proudly displayed, as their retainers and squires kept close behind on foot. Sergeants marched in well drilled lines, lugging with them the tools of their trade, beasts of burden, and great war machines of the Order. Grim-faced confessors in tabards of black lead the host of warriors in prayer, shouting in unison the praises of God and litanies against their hated foes, while the congregation of hundreds replied flawlessly again and again. Censers hung from staves and bridles burned sacred herbs and incense, as monks and retainers applied holy oils to the armor of their lords. They were inspiring, a tide of steel and flesh, driven by the greatest of causes: faith. Every word that left their lips glorified the All in All, spoke of the righteousness and necessity of their mission, and decried the evils of weak willed men such as Gargth. Their cries would be a comfort to some, and a warning to others beside them.

Jeremiah Nagel sat upon his horse, accompanied by Theurgist Primarist Rantheus. They were quite the site to behold, so unlike one another in manner and appearance. Where While Jeremiah was a grim and imposing figure, well built and clad in full plate armor; Zebulon was a tall man of no considerable strength, dressed in the simple scarlet robes of his brotherhood. The Theurgist's face was calm and knowing, pale-blue eyes often distant as the aging magician was lost in thought time and time again. Meanwhile, the Knight-Captain's battle-scared face held a constant look of suspicion, eyes sharp and quick to accuse. Often those eyes would rest upon Zebulon, as was the knight's duty as a brother of the Thrice-Blessed. Though the two had stood side by side time and time again, no man was above suspicion, no man could be pure to a fault. If and when Zebulon, or any of the Order's Theurgists began to stray from the path, Jeremiah and his own would be there to deliver the rightful punishment.

The pair sat upon their steeds, peering across the dunes as the scouting forces made the reconnaissance. Black smoke wafted from the old city, and wails of outrage and anger came from the men. Jeremiah gripped his reigns tightly, knuckles white with frustration that their delay had cost innocents so much already. Good people struggling day by day to feed themselves and their families, now they were set upon a man who dared to claim his damnable Craft could ascend him to the realm of The All. What hubris, what gall! Perhaps it was indeed Divine Providence that brought the Knights of the Seal into being, and led them here. Perhaps it was their divine purpose to punish one who thought they could become one with God yet reject its love, and the Truth which came from the higher arts.

"You seem troubled, Brother-Captain." Zebulon called out, drawing his commander from dark thoughts and possibilities.

"Aye, you can read a man well Theurgist. Or Perhaps you simply use your craft to delve into the minds of others?" The knight often made good jest at his friend for his practice, necessary and blessed as it was. "In truth, I am weary of those we have surrounded ourselves with. Corsairs, pitiable beasts, foul sorcerers... truly this is a desperate time if we must resort to standing alongside one another." There was venom in his voice as he thought of the arch-heretic Gargth.

Zebulon nodded, eyes staring off in thought for a few moments before he finally responded. "Needs must when a devil vomits into your kettle, as my mother always said. Worry not Jeremiah, we will purge this land of the taint which has taken root. In fact I was hoping to propose that once the vile necromancer is dead, we might-"

In an instant the sky darkened, as a demoniacle laugh echoed across the dunes. Horses drew back and screamed in fright, and young squires shuddered at the horrible sound. The Order's Confessors were quick to begin shouting over the sorcerer's horrid voice, decrying him for his witchcraft and inspiring Knights and Sergeants alike to take up arms against whatever threat would come forth. Heavy rain began to fall, slowly making the sand beneath their feet moist and unstable. The Knight-Captain cursed as the storm assailed the Alliance, drawing Redemptor and turning to Zebulon.

"I must go to the men, gather your Sect and deal with this damnable storm!" With that, the knight's destrier charged off towards his fellow Knights and Brother-Sergeants.

Without a word, Zebulon rushed off to gather his fellow Theurgists, men who had been his peers for decades, each a great font of occult knowledge and power. He would need their assistance. Though he was growing old, his mind and his senses were keen as ever, and his many years of study into the arcane had only helped to highten his sensitivity to the ebb and flow of the vibrations and energies of the world around him. Gargth was among them, his power was horrifying, his presence like a cold hand upon a beating heart. But their faith was strong, The All was greater than any deity or deluded sorcerer could ever be. Gargth would learn humility, he would learn the gravity of his sins before the Order sent him screaming to the hell which he had made for himself.

Surrounded by a circle of twelve thrice-blessed knights, the six magicians readied staves, scepters, wands, and other ritual objects as they began to walk clockwise in a circle. Zebulon stood on the left-hand side of the circle, holding an ornate chalice of gold. Across from him stood a man with a wand, its head a great red ruby. The others in turn held a sword, an iron pentacle, and two candles: one lit and one unlit. They chanted, voices deep and low, slowly growing louder and louder over the din of battle all around them. Each of the twelve thrice-blessed warriors stood guard with sword and shield, felling any of the foul creatures which approached with their blessed wargear.

All the while, Jeremiah and his brothers-in-arms fought with all the righteous fury and courage they could muster, slaying the animated earth beneath hoof, blade, and hammer alike. Despite their ferocity however, they remained in well-drilled formations, clearly fighting a defensive battle. As the battle raged onward, the Knight-Captain cursed the shortsightedness of his peers, charging out to face the enemy head on. They were not as men, they could not be routed or intimidated. No, they were constructs of dark magick,. and only by the dispelling of such magick, or the death of the caster would they truly fall. Another curse left his lips as he saw the massive ball of demoniacle energies which soared towards the Guild.

Though the magicks of their allies were a boon to them, the storm continued to rage, lightning rendering men to blackened husks, and birthing more creatures from the hardened earth. Jeremiah began to feel something, something pure and magnificent, awe inspiring and yet horrifying in its power. The feeling grew stronger and stronger, the surge of power from behind his lines proof to the ritual of the small Theurgist sect. It was obvious others felt it as well, many of his men began to cry out in the holy tongue, and the confessors wept as a rapture so divine overtook them. It was then the final incantation boomed above the sound of battle.

"By our Word, we call forth the power of All.
By our Will we command it,
And by the holy names does it take form.
Descend from higher places,
And bring light to all who suffer in the dark.
Raziel, come forth!"

Blinding light pierced the dark thunderclouds above, and the Defenders and Scholars of the Consecrated Seal of Trismegestus cried out as one in joy, fury, and supplication. The great beam of light ended the unnatural storm, clouds fading beneath its magnificent radiance. What's more, it stood as a great barrier between Gargth's spell and its intended target, completely dissipating in a painful howl, utterly inhuman in nature. Shadowspawn reeled and crumbled before the light, squealing and mewling like frightened children Never did the light lessen, only did it change in form, from a pure beam from the heavens into something far more divine.



The angel stood there in the air, its wheels rotating and revolving around the center of light. Countless eyes stared down upon the mortals below, and those who were bold or foolish enough to look back found that their very souls could not be hidden from its gaze. However, its center-most eye, the most magnificent and radiant of them all, glared directly at Gargth. A voice, or perhaps a legion of voices assailed the dark wizard's mind, both beautiful and horrifying in their choir.

"Look upon me, look into me, and thou will look into thyself. Know me to be the Truth you seek. Know that no sin escapes my gaze, and that words of penance fall upon mine eyes, not ears."

Within an instant it was gone, the blinding light vanished into the aether from whence it came.

---

Pain racked his body, pulsing from head to toe as if several men were beating on him with hammers of iron. Gargth groaned and muttered obscenities, but he finally reclaimed his feet - in time to see his Shadow Bolt slam into a tower of pure light. At this exact moment, he felt something else, something very wrong. The storm was weakening, and with it, his tenuous grasp of his warriors. Several of them collapsed into the sand inexplicably, but not all.

Depart, mortal. Or be undone.

The Shadow Bolt fizzled and dissipated, stopped by the pillar of light with seemingly little consequence. This interruption followed its way back to Gargth, and his head snapped back as if he'd been punched by an Ogre. Stumbling backwards, disorientated, he had but a moment to figure out his folly.

"How can this be?" he cursed, spitting blood into the sand at his feet. "What avails them?"

Not what, mortal. Who. Flee, and flee now.

Before Gargth could respond to the pounding voice in his mind, the pillar of light transformed, twisting and pulsing, remoulding itself into something unworldly. Finally, the image settled, and though Gargth should have been humbled by what he saw, he merely smiled.

"Clever," he said, spitting another wod of blood. "It seems they have a Theurgist in their ranks."

FLEE. FLEE. FLEE.

The angelic form, a series of spinning circles encasing the form of a babe, gazed at Gargth. At first it nearly blinded him, and he felt his arcane reserves dwindling - his link to the Shadow Realm faltering - but he shrugged, even as it talked directly to him and spoke of sin, and penance, and 'knowing one's self'.

"Do not think to lecture me on penance," Gargth said, his voice suddenly robbed of its magical enhancements. He looked directly back at the seemingly divine being. Challenging it. "You have no power here, beyond your tricks. Be gone!"

The spirit, or angel, or whatever apparition it was supposed to be, regarded him in silence and then vanished - or fled. Gargth felt the pain in his body subside, and he called his energy back to him like waves to a beach. Suddenly he felt younger than he had in years, as his new found strength flooded his body.

And then the ground was shaking beneath his feet, as something great drew near to him. He looked across the battlefield, past his failing warriors, and saw a giant white beast hurtling towards him. It was magic in design, some bastard breed of mammoth and bear. Gargth was impressed, this second lot of fools were clearly beating his estimations when it came to their competency. In a moment the creature would be on him, tearing him to pieces.

Quickly he reached in the Shadow Realm - his mind scanning the dark and twisted landscape - and there he plucked forth a great Spirit. Not quite a Demon, though there were few other words to describe it. In life, this Spirit had been a murderer of thousands, a rapist of Elven maidens and a corrupter of the flesh. An ancient evil, lost to time - though no longer.

It took much effort for Gargth to haul this spirit into the world of the living, but it required mere moments, and as the great mammoth-beast came upon him, Gargth exploded. Purple flame erupted from where the Fallen Wizard had stood, sending chunks of rocks and sand screaming through the air - and an aftershock so powerful, that the mammoth-beast more or less smacked into an invisible wall and bounced back several feet.

The Shadow Warriors collapsed, blown away by the wind or else became piles of sand. The battle ended instantly.

And then, from the smouldering crater that stood in place of Gargth, a mighty hand sprung forth - the size of a small house. The ground shook, sending cracks through the landscape, and a terrible, booming laughter echoed across the ever-clearing skies. With a teeth-gritting grind, the hand slid upwards, giving birth to a wrist, and then a shoulder, and then a horned head. In seconds, a hulking giant of sand stood in the middle of the Alliance army.

"I have come," it said, its voice raspy.

It looked down at the pitiful mortals and their army, towering a hundred feet over them with his massive and muscled bulk, and hefted a great maul. Though his entire being seem constructed of sand, there was no doubt as to what that maul would do to a man - nay - a group of men.

And with the force of an entire nation, the sand giant brought its weapon down indiscriminately into the nearest group of soldiers.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Gargth collapsed onto the black marble of his tower's Great Hall. He breathed heavily, fighting the pain that threatened once more to stop his heart and drag him screaming to the Shadow Realm for time eternal.

You were a fool. Any more such foolishness, and we will deal with you personally.

"Why couldn't I defeat them?" Gargth hissed in pain, "why did you abandon me? Why did you drag me away?"

Because you would not listen, and thus threatened to undo everything. May this be a lesson, mortal. You will rule this world with our blessing, or not at all. And to gain that blessing, you must learn obedience.

"Fine," Gargth said bitterly, clambering to his feet on weakened limbs. "Then in all your infinite bastard wisdom, how do you propose to stop the invaders, if you wont allow me to do it personally?"

You will remain here. In your tower. We will see to the Battle for Everstrine, but you must give us form. This will be your purpose. Victory will require everything you have, and more. Take an hour to prepare yourself, for I doubt that abomination you summoned will delay the Alliance much. Sandbrick shall still fall, and we shall herald its destruction in due course.

From his high vantage point, Sir Tobrew sighed in relief as the lightning storm calmed and dissipated with him stopping and hovering in place, as he finally had a pause from constantly dodging the strikes he saw that the left wing of 'Aurora Kaotica Eleanora' had been struck and smoked from a miniscule fire in the wound.
It wasn't crucial, Tobrew was more concerned by what in the world that creature of wheels within wheels was, or actually more importantly how to take down this new beast which had just annihilated a group of soldiers, whom they had served he never saw, but they serve no longer.

Tobrew De Castillair had a plan, not a very good one but he seldom had overly thought out plans.
From his mount he screamed out to whom could hear him, which concerning the current noise of the battlefield wasn't sure to be many.
-"Allies, i will draw its attention!"

With that he kicked the sides of his mount with his heels which sent the two tumbling towards the earth in the same pose as a diving falcon.
The accumulated speed was used to propel them over the battlefield towards the giant.
The ray of holy sanctity first erupted from Kaoticas mouth which slammed into the giants chest and danced up to its right shoulder, followed by a ray strike from his Mekhania pyre lance that struck the giants right cheek up to its ear. Both strikes scarring the giant but not much more.

This annoyed the giant greatly and he began to swing his maul towards Tobrew and Kaotica. But wasn't quick enough to hit them before they were behind it.
The other champions could easily see the dragon and its rider repeatedly struck the giant with rays of sanctity, taking most of the giants attention.
This was the time to strike.

Assarah rode at the front of the Golden Company as they marched through the sun baked desert terrain, having landed just recently with the other several battalions; though unlike many of them she wasn't there to be a hero or to fight for the peoples rights under Gargth's rule. No the Golden Company came to fight on both the promise of gold and prepayment by Kings and Queens, the companies skill in battle well known and highly sought after; especially after the group acquired several thousand muskets weapons that most humans had never seen much less used before. The company marched in straight well organized rows, as volleys of fire were the most effective method in an open space like the desert they found themselves in, each man armored differently than the one beside him; most having bits and pieces of armor as opposed to the heavier full suits typical of warfare. Their muskets leaned against the right shoulder of each fighter, the buttstock firmly planted into the palms of those whom carried them; each man also carried a powder horn and several dozen spare musket balls the extra firearms, ammo, and other such supplies being watched over by young lads not fit to fight yet hauled by heavy set pack mules on wooden ski's for the sand.

As the company marched Assarah called for a full stop at the top of a large sand dune overlooking Sandbrick, an excellent vantage point for the ranged experts the hill leading down to Sandbrick was steep at a near forty five degree angle; and extended over ninety yards down the company halted over two hundred yards from the city walls themselves. It was at this time the unnatural lightning began to impact the loose ground, heat scorching the sand black and occasionally turning it into patches of glass; Assarah swung her body down from the great stallion she sat upon a young boy taking the beasts reigns and leading it back to the rear of the battalion. As the Shadow warriors formed their rigid battle lines around their commander Assarah looked to her Dwarvish captain whom was seated upon the back of his boar a beast near the size of a pony but with far more muscle and a desire to thrash anything and everything in its path. She nodded at Aktun and he nodded back Assarah inhaled deeply as she took up her own musket, pouring powder into the barrel of the firearm and quickly following it with a .40 caliber lead minne ball; using the long iron ram rod to pack the ball tightly into the rifled barrel. Shouting the first of many verbal commands as she sank back a step to stand in line with the first row of riflemen.

"Company load! First row kneel!"

As soon as she shouted the command was repeated down the line, loudest by Aktun whom like most dwarves had a hardy deep voice with quite a lot of volume behind it; and each man loaded his weapon the shadow warriors now charging up the steep dune showing little difficulty in climbing the sand the front line of troops including Assarah dropping onto one knee. Her second command bellowed out even louder than the first; the aiming command only allowed to sit for a few seconds as the battalion was highly trained and disciplined in the use of the muskets.

"Take aim! Fire!!!!"

As she gave the order to fire the line erupted with the crack of black powder popping, the noise comparable to that of thunder from the first three rows; a huge tuft of white smoke blown away by the heated desert wind the large volley of several hundred lead balls ripping into the shadow warriors and decimating their center the tightly packed unit quite vulnerable to the deadly range and power of the firearms. No sooner than the first three rows had fired did they drop backwards allowing the last two rows to advance already loaded and primed to fire; Aktun shouting loudly for the two ready rows to aim and fire throwing another volley of metal into the still advancing horde. During this time the three front rows returned to their original positions, reloaded and ready Assarah quickly standing upright as the Shadow warriors despite heavy losses were 15 yards from the top of the dunes their lack of fear or self preservation taking a bit of the muskets psychological advantage away.

"Fix bayonets!! Second, third row fire!! Prepare to charge!!"

As she shouted the rows behind herself opened up for a third volley buying the time for the men to fix long steel bayonets to the ends of their rifles; Assarah letting loose a fierce scream as she barreled down the hill her musket raised at chest level the buttstock beneath her left arm. The first row of men numbering around a hundred and fifty following their leader in the berserk charge, their armor clinking and shifting as they barreled into the shadow warriors; Aktun quickly calling for the second row to fix bayonets and charge after Assarah; unhappily remaining with the reserve lines which were quickly reloading to supply covering fire if a retreat occurred. Assarah shoved her bayonet deep into one of the warriors, her eyes fierce and alight with determination, quickly pulling her blade free to engage another target using the buttstock of the rifle. Though within the next few minutes the warriors suddenly dissipated back into harmless earth around them, The Golden company men cheering loudly only to be cut off by the appearance of the large hand and the accompanying giant; Assarah staring wide eyed at the towering beast.

"Full stop!! Reform the lines!!! Reform the lines!!! Reload and fire on my command! Aktun advance!!!"

As she shouted the men hurriedly reformed close packed lines, loading their rifles as they were ordered their position half way down the dune around a hundred yards from the giant; an advantage which Assarah knew would be critical to the alliance defeating the behemoth. As she prepared to give the command to aim and fire, she lifted her own rifle upwards pressing it firm into her shoulder.

"Aim and fire!! Reload!"

The loud crackle of the musket's once again rang out, the company mages lending their arcane prowess to give each shot a bit of magical energy to add impact power for more umph; the thick white smoke thrown away once more across the desert sands. Her troops well drilled already began to reload before the smoke had even cleared, all in all numbering only eleven dead and six wounded at this point; her aim to keep losses low and plunder high as no matter how strong the bond they were all Sellswords whom never tended to stay on the losing side of a battle.

The Forsworn straightened up as one with the dispersion of the shadow warriors. A handful of minor wounds began recovering almost immediately. The Betrayer and his captain walked to the front of their formation, the former leaning on his sword as he looked up att his new arrival. There was little that the more mundane of his group could do. It was best that they let the more magically inclined act as they saw fit.

"Legion scatter and do as you will."

The last Captain held out her gauntleted hand. Shoulders tensed as she out forth a measure of effort that had not been used in a long time. She began a slow walk to her left as an opaque mask of shadows coalesced around the behemoths face. As soon as the illusion was solid she reversed the direction, lest the giant predict her course and make an attempt at retaliation.

Cinder held his ground at the crest of the dune. He wrested his staff from it's upright position that that he had left it in the sand. It and his arms began to glow red, then yellow before brightening to a painfully bright white. Waves of heat pulsed from his body as miniature suns collected behind him.

First a handful then they appeared by the dozens, filling the air around him with constellations of fire. Cinder pointed with his staff and the lot of them streaked off almost as fast as the balls from the dwarven muskets. His shoulders sagged with the effort and he dropped to one knee. The projectiles converged together on the giants knee.

The betrayer remained with Cinder as the rest of the regiment moved down the reverse side of the dune. He helped the exhausted mage to his feet and assisted him after them.

Yrios felt rather saved when something managed to block the giant spell the Dark Wizard tried to cast on him and his band. He would have been able to stop it, no doubt. In fact, he already stood ready on one knee, converging the warlocks their ward power into one focal point. To stop the giant orb. But at the cost of his sorcerers and warlocks, who now had to fight toe to toe against the shadow warriors. But when the blind light dimmed and he saw what blocked such power, he grinded his teeth. Of course, the Theurgists of Trismigestus had to summon an angelic being. Rising from his knee now, it was apparent that Yrios was suddenly in a lesser mood. He was not fond of the Defenders and Scholars of the Sacred Seal. An order that, in his opinion, acted overly zealous upon anyone who did not practice their very precise form of magic. Which they conveniently guarded with secrecy. Or did they simply not want to share their wisdom with the Guild of Tal’Zaroth? Yrios certainly tried.

Now, not willing to bear the shame of being saved my some knightly order, Yrios was ready to fully retaliate against Garth. But right when he wanted to start casting his barrage of spells, Garth vanished, leaving in his place a massive monster. “You’ll do.” Yrios simply said before he turned around to his Warlocks. The Shadow Warriors were gone, but some apprentices and sorcerers did get hurt. Right then did Alicia return, feeling that she would be more of aid at the side of her master. She didn’t have any mages with her, but Yrios didn’t expect any. The mightiest companies were too far away for her to reach in such short time. Those who had mages probably needed them more than ever now.

Alicia didn’t need to say that. “You alright?” Yrios did not expect compassion from his old Witchblade apprentice. Yet he was happy to receive it. “I am. But some aren’t so lucky. Witchblades aren’t going to be of much use against the thing.” Yrios said as he looked at the giant cleaving its way through some troops. Alicia nodded in agreement. “Order your Witchblade to escort the wounded out. In case more Shadow Warriors pop up along the way. Make sure we don’t lose anyone that could be saved. After that, come find me again.” Again, Alicia merely nodded. The evacuation effort went smoothly. The Witchblades themselves reckoned their role in the fight was done. When the groups of wounded men and women started moving away from the battlefield, Alicia returned to the Warlock band, which moved up towards a dune. The once flowing sand now hardened under their feet, making everyone far faster.

“So what’s the plan?” the young Witchblade asked, with her sword sheeted again. With a few minor elemental spells, the dune flattened into a plateau. The flat surface now supported several objects. 10 Sorcerers were etching a circle in the ground with their shards. Others mediated on the edges, opening up their orbs to show the glowing symbols, runes, and diagrams. Every piece moving and orbiting the central power source. Warlocks stood around the circle, maintaining a ward. Happy others choose to attract the attention of the giant. The blue glowing dome once more protected the Guild. “The plan is to fight fire with fire.” Said Yrios, as he drew the book from his side. His very own Grimoire. Alicia could help but swallow. “Soul magic.”

“Yes.” The Warlocks that weren’t maintaining the Ward moved in towards the second ring of the now finished circle. Each put down a black gem a little smaller than the size of their hand. Soul stones. Alicia put aside her doubt. Desperate times required desperate measures. Yrios, Alicia and the Warlocks that had placed the Soul Stones moved to the center and began their incantations. For those magically attuned surrounding them, they would detect a sudden, different source of dark-like magic. While akin to the dreadful magic Garth pulled from the Shadow Realm, it wasn’t exactly that. The chanters their eyes began to glow and the stones started howling and moaning in pain. But the chanting did not stop no matter how loud the howling got. The sorcerers outside the circle started chanting something else. Channeling the mana from the air, the earth and the water deep below as a river inwards the circle. Through the circle and the crying stones. From there the pure blue mana flow got corrupted by the very life essence stolen many years ago, during the Purge of Tal’Zaroth. The now purple glowing energy converged to the center of the circle, where the chanters ushered it into the sky. An endless barrage of purple, unholy but powerful magic flew straight at the giant.

---

Rhino felt his blood rushing as his excitement with the oncoming hit seemed almost eminent and his Mammoth-Bear was going to tear the wizard to shreds. To his shock he saw his foe disappear and then a massive shockwave hit that sent his creation back seevral feet and caused Rhino to tumble off the beast's back. He quickly did a back flip and landed on his feet. When he looked up his eyes almost wengt wide with shock when he saw a demon towering over the battlefield. The creature was huge and in its hand was a giant maul. Rhino wasn't expecting such a massive beast to be summoned by the fallen wizard, but he guessed that his foe would pull something insane like this.

"It looks like this cowardly roach has fled and left a monster in his place. Well I guess this battle wasn't going to be as easy as I thought" he said to himself with one hand rubbing his chin and watched the giant demon smash his weapon down upon the army below. Fortunately the attack hadn't hit too many of his crew and Rhino decided that it he would need a different kind of Chimera than his Mammoth Bear to fight this demon. He made the beast disappear and quickly moved closer to his allies. He gave Yrios a toothy grin and made hand signs for his Chimera magic.

"I'll give you some assistance in handling this demon, ally" he said with great confidence. And with those words Rhino summoned a giant crab, a giant rattlesnake and a giant crocodile. Then those three creatures merged into one and formed a huge creature. This beast had the body of crab with two heads, one of a snake and the other of a crocodile. It's color was that of a crocodile and the snake's head was attached to a long neck that allowed it to stretch away from the main body. In the snakes mouth were rows of incredibly sharp teeth and two long poisonous fangs.

"This demon needs a little pinch" Rhino said with a grin and commanded the beast to attack the demon from a different side to avoid the incredible attack done by the Guild of Tal'Zaroth. Rhino's pet clamped both of its pincers on the demon's legs to to hinder its mobility and then the crocodile head sunk it's teeth into the fiend's back, biting into it's flesh. Finally the snake rose up and bit the demon on its right forearm, sinking its venomous fangs into the demon's body. The venom was insanely toxic and poisonous, and Rhino was hoping that it would have a negative effect on the demon.

"Yes! Go for the kill my pet! AAARRRRGGG!" he howled with determination.

Alexis was fighting through hordes of shadow creatures when she finally saw Gargth. She hit her Cerberus to move faster and told him in Infernal ( the language of demons )
" Move ! Move ! Move ! I'll let you eat 1000 souls when we get home ! " as soon as she stopped talking the Cerberus started to run even faster, quickly gaining speed.
What happened next made her stop. The Trismigestus, a group of priests and fanatics called forth what it seemed to be their avatar. A thing that glowed bright and made even some of her demons move away from it. Demons and Gods didn't go along together very well and it was better that way too.
As soon as the avatar disappeared, Gargth disappeared too. A big creature took his place and the hordes of shadow creatures ended too. Alexis smiled. " It seems that his pets cannot fight without their master in range. " she muttered under her breath.
She sent a mind-whisper to Joe to let him know that he has to send all the demons against the new creature.
Joe that was still on top of his Beholder nodded and commanded every demon under Alexis's command towards the creature. In the same time he prepared another two spells. The summoning of Evil Eyes to be sent against the creature to distract it and then another one. The Battle rage. As soon as he finished casting the spell, a red mist appeared on the battlefield (it encased all area where fighting was still happened).

Shaerel had been in the thick of the fight. A ring had formed around her, a clearing in the hectic battle. Her own men had longed backed off in fear of being hit by her massive weapon and all enemies who neared her were cut down. She dispatched sand demon after sand demon, seemingly no end to their numbers. By her estimation for every one she defeated two more rose. Surely they must stop eventually, she thought to herself, In these conditions, with this unstable footing we will not be able to keep up a sustained fight. But more and more came.

Thankfully the battle would end sooner than she predicted. The clouds began to break, unbelievably bright rays of light emerging from the sky. The demons dissipated, turning once more to the sand beneath their feet. Some of her men gazed up with awe and others hid themselves from the blinding rays as the clouds split to reveal a creature made of many wheels, a being of pure angelic light. Shaerel found herself fixated upon it, its gaze seemingly seeing through her and into her very essence. What is this? The work of magic, or something else? She dismissed it as a trick of magic, but something in her head doubted this.

Soon enough the light became too much to bear and she hid her eyes from the brightness. The great being that soared above the battlefield spoke in a voice that pierced through Shaerel. Or was it voices? She could not tell, but its cacophonous command spread across the battlefield. It spoke to Gargth, it looked through him, and more so it seemed to frighten him. An explosion of flame took the place of the necromancer, and all at once the battle seemed won. As the many-wheeled creature disappeared her men cheered, proclaiming their first victory. Her smile returned. Her host had not disappointed, it seemed; their first skirmish was a success, and she was relived to see it.

But the battle was not yet over. In the place of Gargth rose a demon of sand, a creature that loomed over the alliance. It towered over them. It must've been hundreds of feet tall. It slammed down onto the ground with a great club made of sand, wiping away a chunk of soldiers immediately. She was quick to act "Infantry! Calvary! Pull back, pull back! Archers, get into position to fire upon the beast!" She cried to her assembled host. The men were eager to follow orders, already retreating as she had begun to speak. It seemed that her armies discipline was running short; the men struggled to break ranks, only barely kept in line by their captains. The archers were slow to reposition, but all the same volleys began to hit the giant to what seemed to be little effect. A great metal dragon, no doubt one of their allies, had begun to distract the beast.

Shaerel knew this would not be her battle; she had no way to effectively fight a beast that massive short of dancing around its feet and slashing at it, something that she suspected would not be overly effective. She would let those barraging it with magic and bullets and dragons take this battle. The Nurami may have been freakishly powerful by the standards of Barthon but it was clear that this would not be the case on this battlefield, for she was among what could only be described as a freak show of super powered fighters. She continued to hold back her infantry and cavalry, which would stand little chance against the gigantic beast. The monster could likely take a quarter of her force with one great swipe. Her archers still let loose volleys towards the great demon of sand, but that was the only contribution the Mailed Fist would have to this fight.