As Gredy sat down and thought about the various problems and information that he had been informed about, he considered his options and quickly found that there was a way he could kill several birds with one stone; Moving the Enclave closer to the mountains themselves. It wasn't like they had taken the time to properly build any form of shelter that wouldn't take fifteen minutes at most to set up again elsewhere so packing up and moving out wouldn't be to difficult, it would bring them closer to the source of industry in the form of the mines and the mountain camp that would be producing the tools and thus help reduce the strain of travel time between the people making the tools and the people collecting the food... It also raised the possibility of digging out a home in the mountain itself through that would have to be discussed sometime down the road.

The move would also have the benefit of getting them a little further away from the humans that their newly arrived Black-kin had told them about as well...

Speaking of their Black-kin, Gredy perked up a little as he pushed himself to his feet and walked around for a bit to seek out Trip. Finding him quickly enough, he offered a small wave as he said "Hey, I know you've only been here for a week, but if I was to organize a guide for you and your kin to get you to the mountains, how long do you think it'll take for you guys to start digging in?"

.....................................................................

After organizing a guide to send their black-kin arrivals towards where Buddy's scouting party had found the various metals with instructions to establish a mountain camp and start mining for the iron, word would be spread around the Enclave that there were plans to move to a new site closer to the mountains. However, the current position wasn't to be abandoned; A small outpost was to remain in order to keep an eye on the area, as well as to safeguard the Family Trees that had already been created. While in theory they could easily establish fresh trees as new burial sites, there was something... wrong with the idea of just abandoning the site completely. It was important, even if it was going to merely where the bones of their dead were laid to rest.

Of course, the task of remaining behind and safeguarding the site was going to be completely voluntary.

---

C) Improve Infrastructure

With the Giblinsbane launched from the docks and Yngvar taking no time in embarking upon his expedition, Dag turned his attention back to finishing the shipyard. With the help of the giblin thralls, construction was done quickly. But then the reports of giblins fleeing towards the swamplands reached Dag's ears, and suddenly he became wary of the creatures. As time went on he was beginning to see that they weren't simple beasts; their aptitude for construction and following orders proved as much. The giblins were quickly proving to be a valuable resource, but he would need to ensure that they stayed just that: a resource. They couldn't be allowed the chance to flee, and he was wary of letting them discover some of the Iceborn's secrets.

So the thralls were certainly utilized in the iron mines by their former home and in helping to transport the metal back to Dagshall, but they weren't permitted to work in the blacksmith for fear of them potentially learning how to work metal or stealing weapons. Similarly they were building the shipyard itself, and they were used to shape planks, carve oars, and sew sailcloth, but the actual assembly of the longships was to be done by human hands alone. The chieftain wanted to ensure that the giblins didn't learn the tribe's secrets of shipbuilding nor figured out how to sail.

The last thing that caught Dag's attention was the need to fortify the settlement. Dagshall was defensible in that it was on an island, but he didn't want to hedge the tribe's safety purely on them being able to stop an enemy from crossing the rivers that separated the island from the mainland. So with their abundance of lumber, he had his people start building a palisade wall around the village, starting on the side closest to the swampland. At regular intervals they would add a watchtower or a gate into the palisade wall. When that work was complete, the tribe would be secured and Dagshall would be a formidable stronghold.

Of course, Dag was especially quick to forbid the use of giblin labor upon that wall. It was too risky to let them stray so close to the edge of the settlement, especially given that they would be within sight of that swampland and might try to flee there to join with the fugitives. For now, those giblins in Dagshall were kept near the beach. The shipyard gave them enough work and from there it would be hard for them to escape.

The Antari People

X) Other Grant the Request of Ranco

In of the many meetings that Amari Asto had to attend, he heard about Rano Rancor's idea that reached him through Manco who was quite aware of the news more so as he was the one to tell Amari Asto about Rancor's idea , mostly because he knew that the small kingdom needed a good push to keep the people content and willing to follow Amari Asto, his intention came from the loyalty he had to his homeland and therefore the Empire that controlled it, he didn't want the order and culture of such a prosperous place fall in a place like this.

Amari Asto thought it for a little while , then a little too until he decided that it was the right time to do such a thing, however, just when the council was gathered and Amari Asto almost gave the order to give Rancor the resources he needed, the news about the Lizardmen struck him and the rest of the population, of course. Amari Asto didn't really think that they were capable of attacking the village even if they found out where it was, they still had time to do one more thing before it was time to face the lizards, Manco thought the contrary and as such a debate that lasted a week ensued.

But at the Amari Asto won, mostly because the people wasn't very worried and the cold climate of where they had landed was truly a problem for them all. As such Ranco got his request granted , yet Manco continues to be wary of his master's rulership and tried to convince him otherwise, until Amari Asto said stop.

Manco didn't saw his action as worthy of being the prince of a such a big empire to the west but a little kingdom to the east , but he still believed that Amari Asto was a true ruler even if some of actions were a bit strange at the very least.

In conversation the new settlement was dubbed Duinmelamar, a simple descriptive name distinguished from the heroic name of their landing.

The Children were happy to hear that other elves were headed their way. After all there was safety in numbers and they would need every able hand to make their new settlement prosper. At the same time they felt somewhat at a loss or even embarrassed. They themselves had only come here recently and whatever they could do to prepare for the newcomers were things they still needed to do for their own people. They were refugees taking in refugees. At least there was land enough for everyone. But would they get along? People were optimistic, they were fair-skinned elves like themselves after all and bound to be civilised.

Halwen pondered the issue. The newcomers could present a number of new problems. Would they be able and willing to be integrated into the council that controlled their settlement, in other words would they respect his authority or would they insist on their own separate status? Would they live separately, go to separate temples and altogether act differently? Were their gods and society tolerant? He would not know the answers until they arrived. All the same he thought they would at least be allies in a land populated by dangers.

G) When they first arrived, they had spontaneously and enthusiastically set out to discover what the land had to offer. This time, it came by the decision of the council. Each guild would send their own elves out, accompanied by the elves-at-arms, to try and recreate the success they had previously. They would need good wood, stone, clay and any other good material to build their homes and other buildings. Metals to make tools and weapons. Precious ones to make beautiful jewellery. Even animals would be of interest, since they produce important goods like wool and silk, though the latter seems unlikely in this environment, but who knows what this strange land offers. Any material to make crafts that would benefit their people and please the gods. In Celebrimbor, they had found a wealth of amber, clay and silver. Could they be as lucky this time?

I?) Perhaps the next time they met with the giants they could discuss adding wood from their great forests to the trade. The elven carpenters would certainly be receptive to joining the trade.
(( OOCly it might be noted that a nearby player does have a logging camp, though who knows if we'll ever trade ))

D)(/G)
Vlath looked from the hide in has clawed hands to Bloodfang, he nodded at the Lycan warlord, satisfied with his performance "This is the first of many victories against this new land Grash, but I believe the Gods have been reassured of our strength. It is time to send a messenger to see if they will offer us a reward for our first victory." With that, Vlath ushered Boodfang out into centre of the settlement. Make shift huts were still being used but they had been built around Vlath's 'temple' which also happened to be a slightly larger tent. Vlath turned to Bloodfang "I want you to find me a sick soul, one who is ready to depart into the void. When you have done that, find Goldtooth and order him to prospect the area for a suitable lumber site. These tents will not be suitable forever." Bloodfang bowed and quickly went to complete the Voidcaller's task.

As Bloodfang left, Vlath began drawing circles and symbols in the dirt while chanting quietly under his breath. Eventully everywhere 10 metres around him was covered in the strange runes. Now the Lycan returned to his tent to retrieve the wolf pelt and a fragile looking but ornate dagger, runes were also engraved into the dagger and it's very prescence seemed to drain the heat and light from the area around it. Taking the dagger, the Voidcaller cut the tip of his own index finger and painted a single runeinto the pelt with his blood. When completed the blood quickly dried into the pelt.

As the Voidcaller completed the ritual area, Bloodfang arrived with a sickly looking Lycan; but there was zeal in his eyes as he saw the runes and patterns on the ground. "Do you know your purpose here?" Vlath asked the lycan. "To be a messenger to the Gods" The lycan replied. Vlath nodded as he gestured for the ill wolf to lay on the bloody pelt he had placed in the centre of the circle. When the lycan lay on the ground, Vlath kneeled next him and began chanting "Numquam euntes ut dare vos autem" as he spoke, the voidcaller revealed the obsidian dagger from beneath his robes before delicatly placing it on the sick lycan's throat. "Numquam euntes ut sit vos descendit" The voidcaller applied pressure and the knife cut through the sickly zealot's throat, he died without a whimper or cry. Vlath's work was not yet done, now he placed one of his hands over the fatal wound on the corpse and his other into the air; his chanting growing louder and drawing a larger crowd. "Numquam euntes ut rursus circum et solitudinem vous" A glowing substance began to seep from the corpses wound, Vlath fell into silence as it entered his hand and the area seemed to darken around him. The runes began to glow an eerie purple. When the wound stopped seeping the glowing substance, the substance began to turn purple in the lycans hand. Vlath raised the substance into the air with both hands , held it tightly for a moment , and released it. The substance began to float into the air, it's colour randomly changing from purple to black as it eventually faded. Vlath turned to the crowd, looking relatively tired "Now we wait for the God's response" He did not move from the corpse but instead cleaned the wound he had inflicted and began quietly chanting to himself as he awaited a response from the Gods.

Many of the younger lycans found this spectacle strange, perhaps even terrifying;but those who had seen it before would be waiting for a response from their God's eagerly, praying they had re-earned favour with them.

G) Prospect the land

With the information gained from the Ursar regarding the map, it made planning for the future much easier. Now they just needed to start discovering just what resources there were in the land around them. To do this, prospecting teams needed to be sent out, and so they were. A prospecting team of five was sent to the lone mountain in the north, the goal being to explore it and the surrounding woodland in its entriety.

Another group of five would be sent to the lone mountain in the southwest, this time prospecting what they could while being mindful of the Ursar settlement there. So far this land had been bountiful for the dwarves, and they had hope that fortune would keep a kind eye on them for a time yet.

F) Improve Resources

Finally, Arngir gave the order, not that he knew people started taking his suggestions as partial orders, for the gold mine to be built. While it was more of a luxury resource, it wouldn't feel right for dwarves to not have at least some access to earthen bounties. However, the first collection of gold would be used to make gifts for the Ursar, to help improve relations with them.

Turn 11

@Cyclone



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@Murtox



@Pirate



@Kangutso



@Pyromaniacwolf



@Bright_Ops



@Dogematix No post found. Auto-dropout in 3 turns.

With the new iron, the sound of the Maerinum people's working was loud and clear. Saws scraped across wood and trees groaned as they slammed into the ground, teams of workers using mules and good hard labour to take the massive natural constructs back to where they would be processed. Some of the finer woods had already been commandeered by artisans, and the marketplace, where once grain had been bartered, flourished with culture, statuettes and small blades, lockets and trinkets being sold across. Maxim watched as a little boy eagerly pointed to a small wooden figure of a horse, the legs of which were jointed to allow them to move, and smiled, before turning back to the scouts he had assembled.

"Your job is simple. What crops we have here are of a pitifully small variety. Wheat and oats, thick greens. Good for the peasants perhaps, but these are citizens, not damned peasants. Go, all of you, a boat is waiting to take you to the mainland. Find seeds, buds, plants of any kind, and by the time you come back our farms should flourish in colour.

A grin crossed his face as they saluted and left, and he sat down heavily. "And they better find grapes, I need a damned DRINK!"

---

The elves were wary. Perceptions of humans were mixed, they were generally viewed as more primitive, but also a varied race. Capable both of rising to civilisation and descending into savagery comparable to that of the orcs. The rough iceborn gave off an impression that approached the latter more than the former. The elves gripped their weapons tight, fearing the worst as the strangers landed. However instead of rushing off their boat into combat, the iceborn greeted them. The members of the party hesitated. Falnor spoke up, telling the others to rush back and warn Duinmelamar should this be a deception. He then stepped forward, raising his hand in greeting as he walked down towards the iceborn.

Whilst the elves had deliberated among themselves, so too had the humans before them. "Yngvar! Look at the dress of those strange men," one of the boatsmen called out.

"Do you think that we have intruded upon their tribe's land?" was the thought that came from another.

Yngvar kept calm. "Perhaps we have crossed their borders, but surely they would not claim the lands that we have settled. We would have seen them long before now."

They discussed the situation with varying degrees of nervousness and waved in greetings, but then they saw one of the foreigners break off from the group to approach. In goodwill, Yngvar similarly walked away from his men to meet this stranger between the two parties.

As Yngvar approached he kept his hands off the handle of his sword, but nonetheless he had a sword at his hip and a shield on his back in case things turned violent. He came to within a short enough distance to call out to Falnor, and then spoke, "Hail friend! We are men of the Iceborn tribe. What are your people called?"

"Hail, man of the Iceborn tribe! We do not have a tribe to call our own, we are simply high elves, worshippers of Orowuen and subjects of king Horith." he continued to approach to a more conversational distance "I am Falnor, elf-at-arms, orcslayer and scout. Who are you?"

Yngvar's face bore a strange expression. High elves, orcs. Those words were not known to his tribe. And then as he stepped closer, he noticed strange things about Falnor's appearance: the exaggerated ears, something funny in his eyes. It was then that Yngvar's eyes widened in shock for the briefest of moments before he steeled himself again. An almost-human. A skraeling. It was standing right in front of them!

Yngvar did not immediately answer Falnor's question, his eyes instead darted towards the other high elves that stood a distance away. He reckoned that he could have thrown an axe and felled Falnor from this distance, but alas, he only had a sword.

Charging this 'high elf' skraeling with a sword would be suicidal; its friends would kill him before he made it back to his men, and they all might die before they could even launch the longship again. So reluctantly, and very cautiously, he would have to negotiate with the skraelings. If he showed any weakness, no doubt they would strike.

The warrior's face suddenly grew into a smile, and he recounted some list of both his true victories and tall tales, "My name is Yngvar! I am a warrior of the Iceborn, Slayer of Bears, Lone Survivor of the Battle of Giblin Cave, Charter of Unknown Seas! My men and I have come to explore these riverlands. Tell me more of these 'orcs' that you have fought!"

Falnor looked on with some concern as he saw the shock in Yngvar's face and how his eyes and thoughts darted around. Had he scared the simple thing? For a moment he felt scared himself, the man looked a fiercer warrior than he was. But he found some confidence in the man's apparent own concern and that word would get to Duinmelamar without him if it had to.

"The orcs are brutish beings, twice the size of a man. Though physically they might resemble you and I, with hands and limbs not entirely unlike our own, their mouths house fangs, their skin is sickly green and their minds are like those of animals, capable of no thought. The only thing they possess is destructive instinct. As a scout, I hunted the orcs in the open, felling them with arrows. In the battle of the river crossing, I impaled them on my spear and together we high elves felled many of them. However their hordes are unending and even the greatest victory would hardly make a dent in their numbers. They live far to the east from here."

"Our tales speak of such monstrous beings, brutish and of great stature," Yngvar spoke truthfully. "Though we had thought them long gone! Here, a drink."

Yngvar yelled out to the men by his boat, "Bring the mead!"

One of them clambered up the longship's side and began to carry a barrel over to where the two spoke. Yngvar turned to thanked him, and as his eyes locked with that warrior he mouthed the word 'skraelings'. That man's eyes widened a bit, but quick on his feet and quick of mind, he returned to the longship without panicing.

As he walked away, Yngvar drank deeply straight from the barrel of mead. Then he offered some to Falnor, "Drink with me, to high elves and glorious battle against orcs!"

Barrels are not for drinking out of but Falnor thought it best to humor the man. He took the barrel "To my people, to glorious battle against orcs and to new friendships." For half a second he thought to smell the contents first, but to avoid offense he directly raised the barrel and took a drink. The texture, the flavour; the craftsmanship surprised him, 'Artemon would be pleased' he thought to himself, it was the best thing he'd have to drink since leaving their homeland, not that he'd drank much of anything other than water. He took another gulp before lowering the barrel. "This is good mead, my compliments to your brewers."

"Ah, you have tasted mead before? Do you have a brewery of your own somewhere in these lands?"

"Sadly our brewing industry was rather badly affected by the war against the orcs, but I'm sure we will have a brewery again soon."

Yngvar had of course been prodding to get a general grasp on where the skraelings lived, and so he wasn't entirely satisfied by that answer. As if deep in thought, he paused for a moment. "Perhaps Sverker and his fools would help; they are the ones that brew our mead. If we seek you out in the future, where might we find your village?"

Falnor hesitated. He was reluctant to give away the location of the settlement to these clearly barbaric people, potentially putting them all in danger, though it seemed inevitable that they would eventually find them on their own while travelling the river anyway. He decided to relent, hoping that it would create good will, praying that he was not making a dire mistake. "If you continue up the river, you will find our village in time. Might we know the place of your tribe as well? We are a curious people, and eager to trade."

"Reaching us will be difficult; we make our home upon an island," Yngvar answered truthfully, albeit in a manner that somewhat dodged the question. "Does your tribe have ships?"

Falnor felt a sting of fear - was Yngvar trying to gauge their strength? At the same time he was not being cooperative with Falnor's questions. The sting of fear was followed by shame and regret. Was he being tricked by this barbarian? He decided to try and bring it to an end "I'm sorry, friend Yngvar, but I have taken enough liberties talking to you. If you wish to know more about our settlement, it would be better if you spoke to our leaders."

"Of course," was Yngvar's answer. "We shall leave as friends and sail back to our lands in peace. Perhaps we will return to find your village by the river and speak to your king, but I would ask one final thing: you said that the 'orcs' lie to the east, but are there any other peoples in this area that you would speak of?"

"Indeed, we have friends and partners in trade in this land. This is a peaceful territory, with prosperity for all, and I hope it will remain that way. But I must warn you not to adventure too recklessly in these parts. Dark forces stalk the wilds and while they will leave you well enough alone if you return the favour in kind, an unknowing traveller may find himself where he should not be. I look forward to seeing you again and I hope the next meeting of our peoples is more fruitful." he motioned that it was time for the conversation to come to an end.

So the elf made reference to friends that may or may not actually exist; in any case, he hadn' t given them any information beyond an ominous warning. Nonetheless, the exchange could have went worse. "It is our custom to offer a gift when we part, so have this," Yngvar said as he reached for a small knife. "It is freshly forged, so its edge is still honed. It shall serve you well!"

He held the knife out with his hand grasping onto it by the blade so that the elf could take it by the grip.

Falnor took the knife and placed it in his belt "Thank you, it will do nicely in cutting up a prey or in close combat with a foe." Falnor turned and motioned over one of the elves, who came running down. They exchanged words in the elven tongue and he handed his bow to Falnor before heading back to the others. Falnor took off the quiver of arrows he had been wearing and extended it, alongside the bow, to Yngvar. "Our gift to you, may each arrow fell an animal."

"Or an orc! You have my thanks, Falnor," Yngvar laughed back. He took a moment to admire his new bow, then turned around and walked back to the longship. With some effort, the Iceborn pushed it back into the river and boarded it. Then they began the long journey back to Dagshall whilst Yngvar recounted all that he had learned from the skraelings. If the situation had been different there might well have been violence, but as it had happened there was a chance for lasting friendship. Many of the Iceborn would still be wary of trusting a skraeling, for the tales always told of their treachery and vile nature. Still, these elves could perhaps prove the stories wrong.

Falnor sighed with relief as he saw the Iceborn heading off, back in the opposite direction of the elven village. He would have a lot of explaining to do when he returned home and he was unsure how Halwen would react. But at least peace had been preserved for now, the question was if it was at all sincere on part of the men, the prying questions and lack of reciprocation worried Falnor. One thing he knew for certain; he and his fellow scouts would be spending the weeks ahead watching the river and their giant friends in case the Iceborn came back in force.

---

H) Expand Military

Dag walked through Dagshall and witnessed the work being done. More boats were already being built in the new shipyard, and in time the palisade would be complete even though the work was slow for now. The question then became what they should do next.

Dag hadn't had to think hard about that question before just now, but in truth there weren't so many pressing things to do. After all their hard work since arriving on this new land, Dagshall had just about everything that it needed.

But then the high chieftain found himself near the shrines to Kjorn and Father Frost and realized what it was that they were missing. Right now the Iceborn stood on their own for all that Dag knew; he couldn't claim to know the machinations of gods, but they hadn't appeared to the tribe or sent them any signs, after all. The Iceborn needed the gods, so that would have to change.

Father Frost was of the aloof and mysterious sort that was wont to come to you rather than the other way around, but Kjorn - ah, there were ways to get the war god's attention. One such way was for a man to tread alone into the wilds and fell a mighty bear. More often than not, they could then wear the beast's hide to become bear-skins, or berserkers, and then Kjorn would see their might and bless them with great strength and his favor. Indeed, the Iceborn had no great champion and Kjorn had no berserker, so perhaps it was time that Dag called for a hunt.

He proclaimed that the tribe would need a berserker and all the young men knew what that meant. For every one that was eager for the chance, here were another three that were either indifferent or outright afraid at the prospect of being chosen to run into a forest and hunt a bear on their own.

But Dag already had a chosen man in mind: his own son, Sigdar. Sigdar was brave and strong; Dag thought that the boy had as good a chance as any, and if he was triumphant then it would bring glory upon Dag too. so Sigdar was taken by boat upriver to the logging camp, and then with no supplies and nothing save a spear and hunting knife, he entered the deeper forest in search of a bear.

Gredy grinned a little at Trip's enthusiasm. While Trip might have missed the exact point that Gredy was trying to make, he wasn't wrong in that it also presented the black goblins the chance to create new homes for themselves as well. "Tools is exactly the reason we're setting up a camp in the mountains. See, a couple of the lads found some iron and tin up there... as well as a bit of hardstone to make some really fancy stuff and to start digging into that we were going to make some basic tools out of stone. Once we get the iron we can start forging some proper tools to work with."

Taking a moment to put an arm over Trip's shoulder, Gredy decided to get down to business. "Now I'm more then happy for you guys to dig new homes in the mountains. Hell, my end goal here is to have the Enclave itself set up in the safety of the mountain with minor settlements and outposts throughout the swamp, through don't feel like you have to rush with that just yet. If you guys could also help us by taking over the mining, we can forge some proper tools and finally start building some proper houses and get started on finding a solution to the food situation. Sound good for you big guy?"

It did not take long for word to reach Duinmelamar. It caused a headache for the council. Had they left the orcs to wander into a new enemy? Could they hope that the amicability was sincere and Falnor's suspicions misplaced? After all it made just as much sense for these barbarians to be concerned with their safety as it did for the elves. Halwen struggled with the issue. Even if these 'Iceborn' had evil intentions, perhaps they could be kept in line with fear, Falnor had the impression that the Iceborn were rather intimidated by his scouting party. But a facade of power might prove very difficult to keep up and should it be seen through, might hurt the chances of good relations. All the same the scouts would keep the river and the giants' village under watch. If they spotted a vessel they would attempt to hail it before it entered the village. Word was passed around for people to brace themselves for potential further hardships. The addition of the refugees to their village may prove to be a godsend, their numbers will surely put Duinmelamar in a better position.

F) Wood was needed for practically everything. Tools, buildings, warmth, even weapons. The forest to the north of them was well placed to be exploited, with the river running south having potential to be used as a means of easily transporting the logs to the village. Large quantities of wood would be useful in receiving the refugees, who in turn may provide much needed labour for the logging itself. Until then the carpenters and whatever restless individuals would have to make due themselves, gathering tools, setting up a camp, exploring the suitability of the river and forest and doing what work they can.

A) Beyond general needs the council was unified in wanting to set these resources to one particular purpose: the construction of a mill and bakery to allow for more efficient and centralised production of food, making quality bread for the whole village. It would take a necessary load off everyone and allow for more of the urban specialisation that the high elves sought after. The mill is intended to be a watermill, taking advantage of the power of the river to grind grain into flour. The construction of the watermill mechanics might be rather ambitious, but whatever time it took would be worth it.

Vlath paused for a moment as he absorbed the news, concern flashed across his face but it was quickly replaced with confidence. The voidcaller beckoned Basir, Mex and Grash to step-forward from the crowd, his voice dropped to a urgent whisper as he addressed them "Mex,Basir. You two will take the children and those too fragile to fight north, Mex send scouts back to this location to see the results of the battle, if we are victorious return. If not , I trust you will lead the survivors well, prepare a sacrifice to seek the Gods guidance if you must but our race shall not fall to these brutes." After issuing his orders he waved the two chieftains away as they collected the children and the weak from the settlement.

After several moments Vlath turned to those who remained, male and female, young or old, those who could fight had stayed. He raised his voice so it was clear to everyone nearby, perhaps the Ogres could even hear if they were close enough "Brothers and Sisters! The God's have smiled upon us today! I have been given a small blessing as a sign of their confidence! This small blessing will grow and spread to you all, do you know what the God's have demanded in return? The blood of the lesser races! These heretics that attack us now, they are not a threat, no they are but lambs that have been lead to slaughter by the Gods! If each of you stay and fight for your Gods, we will vastly outnumber them! Even those who fall today shall find favour with the Gods and will become their vanguards in death until their inevitable return to this realm! So stand with me, brothers and sisters of the void, and we shall purge these heretics in righteous slaughter!" The Voidcaller ended his speech in a deafening howl, then he turned to the Ogres attacking from the west.

In a fluid movement he removed his robe, revealing a simple black tunic and trousers, along with the pulsating red and purple tattoos that ran along his body. Now the voidcaller outstretched his clawed hands and grasped for the power he had been granted, chanting under his breath he willed his magics to move through his hands and directly at the first waves of their enemy.

The lycans behind Vlath organized themselves as much as possible before the Ogres arrived, with the more experienced warriors such as the Bloodfangs standing with Vlath at the front, while those that had little true combat experience stood towards the back. No matter where they stood, they all bared their fangs or weapons at their incoming enemy with ferocity in their eyes, then with a nod from the voidcaller, Grash Bloodfang howled "CHARGE!"