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[center][h3]In the Belly of the Beast[/h3][/center]
[color=6ecff6][center][i]You have woken...[/i][/center][/color]
The space was cold, impossibly cold. And yet, Harth felt a warmth in it. It was colder than the dwarf mountains that were once his home. Colder than the sea he had raided, the graves he had robbed, than the corpses he had interrogated. Colder than his cell was when they put him to ice. Colder still than his own memories. Of that [i]other[/i] him. Of his pilgrimage to that faraway land where he had found... [i]nothing[/i]. Where the Stonefather had abandoned His faithful servant, left him in deathly silence, to become mere dust amongst the ruins of His own temple! And yet, in this strange now, a voice [i]did[/i] come to him. [i]That[/i] voice. [i]Her[/i] voice. The Warden of the Maw herself. 

Harth's gag shaped into a smile, [b][color=CA5920]"What is it, Blood-Witch?"[/color][/b] he muttered, and soon enough contorted when a pain shot through his very soul that was unlike any that earned him his deformities. Horned hoofed hordes raged around him. Fear raged inside him. Fire raged everywhere else. And then: [i]that voice[/i]. [color=6ecff6][i]Sulfrey. God-King Ael-Gol[/i][/color] -[i]bah![/i]- [color=6ecff6][i]Tristana, Yorleif, Nashur. The Golden Chalice. in Malasta.[/i][/color] [i]That smile![/i] [color=6ecff6][i]Find. Kill![/i][/color] 

[center][color=6ecff6][i]You will do what I have said. That is all.[/i][/color][/center]

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[center][h3]Out of the Ashes...[/h3][/center]
And then all rumbled into... The world! Harth came to on his back. Deafness made way to blindness and he gasped as, peaking through his eyelashes, he saw the culprit: the sun! Fields of gold-hued grass swayed in the wind, and birds sang in defiance against their own mortality -must've been just past sunrise, or was it sunset?- ...such a long time since he'd experienced, well, [i]time[/i]...

He noticed his body was clad again, the bear-pelt gambeson still fit. And in his right hand was the stone-headed mace that had served him well in the past. With a groan, he stood and raised himself up to look upon these Blackguards, all... 

A sorceress with an otherworldly sheen to her, and not just from all the jewellery - royalty? Another dwarf, though she seemed more a swamp-dweller than from the Dwarf Mountains, crone-like, with a strange mind to match, rhyming and rattling with flasks of the strangest ingredients. A green-skin that had been the bane of his people, already shouting and swinging his sword -certainly one to keep an eye on. A human young man who seemed foreign to the Kingdom, with abs that were more than a little intimidating. A boyish-looking human clearly a thief, if his shadowing within the group were any indication. An aged man, yet with a strange, artificial youth to his visage and, apparently, to his personality as well. An elf - graceful, yet a strange elf she remained, and that spelled trouble. And then there was the old and gruff knightly fellow who had a bad feeling about this.

[b][color=CA5920]"What worry souls."[/color][/b] Harth mumbled to himself. [b][color=CA5920]"And the day has only just started..."[/color][/b]

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[center][h3]...And Into the Fire[/h3][/center]

The distance rumbled yet again. The sounds of raging hooves rolled over the hills like thunder, but there seemed to be no end to it. Two [i]score[/i] of horsemen. Easterlings. And beyond, there came the screaming echoes of war. Harth felt a creeping familiar fear raise in his heart. Fire came to rage before him. And then, opportunity! It had been a while since he had a crew of raiders at his side.

[b][color=CA5920]"Stand,"[/color][/b] Harth snapped at the strange armored man taking a knee to the horde. [b][color=CA5920]"This is not a mere barbarian circus troupe you can sop! These are fighting men. And the Fire of Sulfrey is fast behind, remember your vision! They will value a show of strength now more than mere prostration."[/color][/b] And Harth thought to himself, it wouldn't hurt to try both ways, in any case. So, Harth raised himself up to as high he could, arm outstretched to the heavens, and felt the old clerical ways come back to him as he sermoned with magical thundering voice, [b][color=CA5920]"Hearken! We know of the foe snapping at your heels! If you're running from the dread-horde of Sulfrey now, you've already lost! But fight with us, and you may prove yet to be more than ashen prey and spoils!"[/color][/b] Then he pointed his mace towards the ring of fire in front of them, with the ogre behind, as if to emphasize their abilities. [b][color=CA5920]"This is how we might stand together!"[/color][/b] He paused. [b][color=CA5920]"Or you may try through that fire and make things quick on yourself."[/color][/b]

Then he waited. And murmured something for luck, good or ill. Fifty riders [i]were[/i] a lot, after all...

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