[IC] The Horde of Evil - Tresspassing through treacherous tribes' territory! (RP closed)

[Cyclone]

The warlock stood in his personal library, bent over a desk with all sorts of magical tomes lying open, each one full of a menagerie rare and forbidden secrets. Flipping through the pages in a lackadaisical attempt to find an interesting ritual to pass the time and put some of his blood slaves to use, he suddenly sensed an intrusion while simultaneously seeing a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. The Keeper spun to see That Which Consumes Peace, the demon having made the rather callous decision of teleporting into the Master's quarters uninvited. He was lucky that this was only the library. Had he teleported deeper in the Keeper's wing, near the dungeon heart, there would have been no words as a response from the Master. Only pain and the possibility of death.

The warlock snarled, "You try my patience, chaos demon, by intruding upon my quarters." The Master's eyes glowed with sadism and ire, foreshadowing some sort of horrific punishment. However, such a punishment never came, since That seemed to have at least had a purpose for his visit. He merely warned, "Do not make a habit of this."

Finally deigning to actually answer his minion's questions, he almost dismissively scoffed, "From what I have garnered so far, this Kingdom of Ardebit has no mere 'king'. Rather, they have the so-called Divine Emperor Reginaldus, the seventh of his name. The fool's dynasty has ruled this kingdom since its very founding some two centuries ago, as a small merchant town. Since then they have beaten back the other inhabitants of Ardebit and carved out quite the kingdom, it would seem."

His tone having turned mocking towards the end as he laughed at the humans, he continued, "Leonus, his family, and his heir are all secluded within their great fortress in the capital, never seen by the public except for once or twice a year when some drunkard claims to see them atop the battlements. Only the highest ranking officials of the kingdom advise this almighty Emperor or even see him in person. Presumably he does something to justify his absurdly luxurious treatment, though if he does rule it is through his subordinates. No commands ever come from the Emperor himself; a great web of bureaucrats, generals, and nobles issue out all the orders, though perhaps only in name.

Every petty noble and general in this abominable kingdom has his own coat of arms to display on flags, banners, and the uniforms of his men. The Emperor's seal and the national symbol is a yellow crescent moon on a field of black. But you waste my time with these questions. If this information is truly so important, then question the prisoners. This is their kingdom, after all. Now, begone from my study! I have research to do."

[Markofkri]

Please disregard, I just saw the full label.

[Athinar]

Athinar stood there, in Professional Mode, as he liked to call it. It was something drilled into him by those loathsome monks, but still, it was useful. His back was straight, his head was inclined, hands held in front of him, feet shoulder-width apart. He took a deep breath. As much as it caused him mental agony, he was in equilibrium. Besides, the pain and aggression let him come up with even better plans.

When Shukra's image appeared behind him, and the cat told him to turn around, he merely turned his head, and gave the cat a cold stare from the corner of his eye. The Rakshasa was disrespecting him. Oh well. He'd get him sometime, but the Boss needed him. Thought he was useful, for whatever reason. "I do not take orders from you, little kitty. I will not turn around at your beck and call. If you wish to receive your orders, then please stand with the others." His voice sounded deeper, more twisted, and more hateful than normal, the change in tone apparent.

Azavarn's plan was good, but there were a few flaws, and Athinar let him know. "That's a good enough plan, little demon, but there is one big problem. The new temple. There is no way in Hell that they'd let one such as you make a deal." He smiled at his own pun. "Probably have holy water, as well." Raising his finger, he did praise the demon on one point. "You guessed it though, I was going to use the Orcs to surround the village. However, Shukra won't be commanding them." He grinned in anticipation of the cat's expression. "You, Azavarn, will lead the orcs. You're slippery enough to wrangle them, or so I hear." The decision didn't make sense at the moment, at least not to most people, but there was a hidden meaning, from Athinar to Azavarn. He was allowing the demon free reign to attempt to get the creatures' souls, and thus bring their loyalty to the Boss, rather than Shukra.

When Narza appeared on his shoulders, Athinar wasn't displeased. He thought that Narza was just the kind of crazy to do something like that, so it was pretty much expected. Noting her presence with a nod, and seeking out the imp that she waved at, Athinar looked at the one small demon, immobile in a crowd of thrashing and flailing. The small imp's bearing told Athinar that something else was controlling it, because most didn't stand stock-still, calmly.

When Torrens approached, Athinar was curious. He wasn't in the group, originally, but oh well. He'd take what he could get. Raising an open hand, and then crushing it, Athinar got everyone's attention, and hopefully quelled any arguments that the cat and the slippery bastard demon had. "Now my plan is threefold! Our objective? Get the city under our control, mostly intact, and subjugate the people. How to accomplish this, you may ask? Simple! One! The main force of Shukra's Orcs, led by Azavarn, will surround the city, to prevent any from escaping. Two! The rest of our forces will march openly on the city, attracting as much attention as possible, and led by Shukra, but joined by Torrens. Three! Umbra, Narza, Darkwraith Kor and myself will attempt to infiltrate the city while it's emptied of defenses. If they do not come out to attack, our goal will be to open the gates, and clear the walls." He smiled evilly. "We have to take the city mostly intact, but the Temple, we raze. Can't have the people rallying there. The Manor, we try our best to keep in one piece, but we will have to clear it out." Cocking his head, curiously, he looked over the group. "Any questions or suggestions?"

[BBeast]

Torrens thought the plan over. It seemed decent enough. There would be a frontal charge, involving himself, which he was pleased to hear, which would draw the defenses out the front. There would be an infiltration, taking advantage of the disturbance he would be causing. And there would be a safety net, which would surely double as reinforcements, to help contain the town, which was a wise use of the orcs since Shukra was evidently displeased whenever they were sacrificed. Sparing any tactical specifics, which would depend strongly on circumstances in the town, it seemed a sound plan, save for one detail. Torrens let Athinar know as such.

"It seems to be a good plan, although there's one detail that seems a bit off. Unless I'm horribly mistaken, the orcs are loyal to Shukra. I'm not sure if they could be expected to behave under the supervision of someone else. While I can see good reason for having the orcs secure the perimeter while Shukra leads a frontal charge, the matter of leadership may present a problem."

[Mattie_]

Narza cheers at the end of Anthinar's speech, running a hand through Athinar's hair absently. Although Narza wasn't too focused on the success of the plan, she understood that she wouldn't be allowed to indiscriminately kill the townies, meaning that only the priests from the temple would be up for grabs. Luckily, the plan placed her directly at the temple, and even better, they'd be killing the priests as one big group! From Derrik's sly and logical point of view, the plan was also tactically sound, and he had no objections to voice to Narza.

"I like it! I call the souls of everyone that dies though." Narza announces carefully, making sure everyone was clear on that. She glares at Azavarn for good measure, since the guy did funny things with souls that prevented her from eating them.I don't trust his hat, it's too curvy. Narza thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes at the demon.

[yPro]

While Shukra's face remained impassive as stone, behind that neat little mask was a burning anger that told him to get to that dungeon and wring the creature's neck. But, he would not give Athinar the satisfaction of getting under his skin. No, no, he had a better way. One that did not involve him getting under the Master's skin at the same time. And the fire demon, Torrens, gave him just the opportunity to do so. It was a poor excuse, one that he was currently attempting to build off of in his head while the others spoke, until he could piece together an argument. Or, rather, a thinly veiled order of how things were going to work.

Finally, he smiled, and laced his fingers together so that his hands performed an arch. "The plan, while it lacks in the department of details, is sound. But, as Torrens said, my orcs are not loyal to those who do not prove their strength. I respect Azavarn and what he does, certainly, but orcs respect brawn, not brain. They may follow you, Athinar, but for that to happen, you'd have to kill me first. So, for now, they listen to me, and only to me. Try to put them under another's command, and they'll do as they please. Now, I suppose I could order them to follow someone else. But, I won't." He tapped the claws of his middle fingers together, raked his gaze across the group, and then continued. "While you are in charge of the raid and the forces of the dungeon for that raid, which includes us, my forces are not of the dungeon, and not under the influence of any but myself. Meaning, you have no authority over where I place them or what I do with them. I could show up all on my lonesome, and I would be completely justified. I wouldn't, as my selfishness and pettyness would cause the Master to gain ire against me, however I will not place my men under your tender care simply because you are an opportunist."

Shukra stroked his chin, tugging at the long fur beneath. "But this is all assuming that the orcs need a commander on their asses the entire time. Order them to make an unbreakable perimeter, and that is exactly what they will do. One of us does not need to sit and hold their hands for them to do the job that is given to them. If they did, then they would not be worth our attention, let alone potential servants and troops." He was finished now, reclining back in his chair. While Athinar might not agree, that did not quite matter. Shukra had made his point clear. The creature could tell him what to do, but there was not a way in this world that he would get his grubby hands on anything that was Shukra's. Not to mention he didn't trust Azavarn as far as he could throw him. Deals would be made. He trusted his orcs in battle, trusted their strength. But their wills and minds were weak. Loyal they may be, but a promise of power could do in even the most loyal of servants.

[Didos]

Ekusha departed for the human territories in an effort to begin her mission. She didn't see the need to explore the entirety of the nation if the goal was to clear out this particular outpost. Better to localize. So, she explored several villages, probing the minds of its inhabitants, looking for any outstanding attitudes or any piece of information that would be revealing of the dwarves.

Humans have always been one of the more xenophobic species, exemplified when it came towards their own kind. Ethnic cleansing, racial stereotyping, and fear mongering were concepts they whole-heartedly embraced, but it allowed them to survive through their clannishness. However, when it came to the other inhabitants that threatened their survival, humans banded together, whether it be temporary or permanent integration, to fight off their common foe in the name of humanity. In the countryside nearing the dwarven outpost, dwarves were thought of as almost plebian in comparison to them, suspected to be dust-covered cave-dwellers who collected stones and what few metals the mountains provided for an unmoving economy merely composed of shiny objects to stare at.

One perpetrator of this mindset was Tushratta, born to a farming family although he found himself employed as a furniture craftsman. When Ekusha found him, he was chatting with a bartender outside the local tavern, one he apparently frequented throughout his adult life. Tushratta was in his 30's, fairly charismatic and liked by his people. He indulged moderately, and often expressed himself overbearingly. He gained somewhat of a following with his words, stirring up the minds of humble drunks and working men. A politician in his own right, Tushratta was indeed a hometown hero in the making.

Rhetoric in the town was fairly anti-dwarven, belittling them to the point of mere animals. Views placed upon them were lowly, and Tushratta must have had the most openly intolerant view of all, constantly refering to them as cave weasels and insinuating they fed on the rocks they tore. Anyone around seemed to eat up his words, in a way covering their insecurities of this alien society that lay so proximal to their village. His words comforted them, and fed their egos. They did not have to feel threatened, rather they should feel powerful: they could easily crush any opposition to their livelihood, especially one coming from a bunch of filth-covered cave-dwellers.

Ekusha saw it: Tushratta had the hicks of this countryside in the palms of his hands. He inspired them, gave them hope, a feel-good conversation they could look forward to at the end of their miserable days of essential serfdom. He was a working man, but more-so a farmer-turned-artisan. He knew their labors, and he had already legitimized himself before these simple-minded country folk who knew little outside of their own village.

Take them.

Tushratta smiled as he looked around the tavern, already feeling a bit of buzz from the alcohol. "I say we pay a visit to that little dwarf colony." Others in the room were a bit puzzled. It's always been all-talk with them, mere venting. Talk of action was rare, but it seemed welcome to the frustrated. "They're up in those mountains, probably looking down on us, and for what? We let them set up shop for a while, but they've been spoiled. We've left them alone while they bleed those caves dry."

"What do you suppose we do, Tush?"

Go add some color to your mundane life, hick.

"Just remind them who's boss around these parts."

[Takashi]

Kor listened respectfully to Athinar's plan, but frankly, he didn't care what tactics they used. He had been a solitary creature for many years and had fought his way out of plenty of jams, but his motives were always the same: get in, feed, get out. The senseless destruction and slaughter that had accompanied the last raid, while amusing, was not one of Kor's priorities. However, it seemed as though Shukra cared very much how the plan was carried out. Those two will come to blows one day, Kor thought. That'll be a battle worth seeing. "So you want me to do the same thing as last time," he said in response to the orders. "Kill priests and peasants, and burn down their temple. No problems there."

[BBeast]

Torrens seemed to be satisfied at how the orcs would be organised, and gave a nod to Shukra to indicate this. Azvaran would need to be reassigned, but that was Athinar's problem. However, something else now bothered him. With Athinar's plan, unless some people were missing from the assembly, the frontal assault would consist solely of Shukra and Torrens. While this was the diversion, it still seemed disproportionate. Until his cunning managed to fill in gaps in the plan.

"I've realised that, with our current numbers, only Shukra and myself will be attending the frontal assault," Torrens stated, "However, I think I can see why so few numbers might work as a proper diversion. The most sensible plan would be to attack during the night. While your infiltration squad approaches from one side of the city and makes a quiet entrance, Shukra and myself would approach from the other side, with much fire and fanfare- tasks we are both well suited for. While the town responds to our arson, you can do your stuff with minimal fuss."

Torrens did not care if this was Athinar's original plan or not, as long as it became the plan now. "Of course, I think some kind of signal would be wise, to indicate if any one group has become overwhelmed. It would allow the infiltrators to inform us if our diversion isn't diverting their defenses adequately, or if we've been forced to withdraw so you know that the diversion will cease. Unlikely, of course, but a valuable contingency."

[Elitestpotato]

That Which Consumes Peace teleports away from the master and rolls his eyes before beginning to teleport towards the town closest to the Dwarven outpost. Turning invisible, he wanders around the town, taking in the natural chaos that accompanies the everyday hustle and bustle of the markets and every day life. Soon, he spots a Marshall's office and teleports into it. The demon searches the place and finds blank documents that seem official, complete with the king's signature and all. He gathers these up along with some official looking flags and teleports out side of the building.

That smiles wickedly as he urges a nearby merchant to accuse a citizen of thievery. The demon urges the citizen to respond with a fist. Soon there is an all out brawl and That just stands there, absorbing it all. Then begins to teleport back to Twich and hands the things to the kobold, also relaying the information that the demon had gotten from the Master.

[Athinar]

Athinar shrugged at Shukra's suggestions. "Well, you know your own forces better than I do. Still. You are going to order the orcs to form a perimeter, and take just enough with you to be able to get away if overwhelmed on the frontal assault." He was beginning to get a grudging respect for the cat. It didn't mean that he would listen to him all the time, and certainly not unquestioningly. "Your personal orders remain, Shukra. Azavarn will be moving around the battlefield, acting as support where needed." Looking at the demon, he said, "You have free reign to make any deals that you feel would be beneficial to the victory of our forces while keeping the town intact." Athinar grinned, under his helm. This included Shukra's orcs, obviously, but he wasn't limited in that role anymore.

Then, Torrens started to show some sass. Turned out that the small demon wasn't in any way afraid of Athinar. This confused him. Anything with a corporeal form should be at least wary of him. Why wasn't this demon intimidated? This frustrated Athinar, and he fell silent for several seconds. Looking to Narza, he said, "Little souls. In the case of a failure on our front, you will inform the other. You are the most mobile one." Anyone with the ability to sense souls would feel an overwhelming pressure, and their ability would be strained to the limit, but they would notice something much more vast than Athinar, in that moment. He looked at Torrens. "Fire Demon. The attack WILL be at night, obviously. Thank you for noticing the most fucking obvious thing here, Captain Useless Fuck. The silencing of the sounds of battle, and the lack of flame everywhere will be sufficient. Even if you manage to ignite quite a bit, there's a certain.... flare to you in battle, and just bathing in flames." Athinar smiled at his own pun, then grimaced. What was that? Something... else was there. It was like Athinar, but... different.

Shaking his head, he turned to some imps and said, "Let's move out, you little red sacks of shit! Create the portal!

OOC

Feel free to timeskip to just before the battle here.

[KabenSaal]

After sorting out business in the Dungeon, Emily's stride was casual and unhurried. It wasn't as if the village was going anywhere, so running over there was pointless. Instead, she enjoyed the scenery. It was nice scenery, but even at an unhurried saunter, the world did not last forever. So, Emily found herself in the village she was going to and began her work. Her eyes flickered Golden for a few moments, and then back to their base colour after she saw that there was nobody with enough magical potental to see what she was doing. There where few people who bothered with the young girl 'playing' at the edge of the village, each person assuming she was another's daughter, and so she was left alone.

Like last time, Emily walked around the entirety of the village, before starting to go into it, not flying like last time because that ended rather badly. A twinkling strand of light fell from her hand, and marked the ground as she moved, past man, woman and child. They seemed pretty peaceful, and nobody had heard about the other village attack yet, so Emily knew they had done it very well. She pictured it all going up in fire, and it was a good sight, to her at least. The rune she was drawing had a different, more intricate pattern than the one she had spawned Fire Spirits with, and obviously nothing else would do for the Kitsune.

Once the rune was all drawn up, Emily moved to a point in the middle of town where every line intersected to make a small circle. It was there, that Emily held out her hand and created her Empyrean Husk, considerably larger than the one she had given Torrens. Then her Spirits filled it with the white flame, and it glowed, in the center of town as Emily started to leave, singing a beautiful song.

"How can you see into my eyes like open doors? Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb. Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold, Until you find it there and lead it back home" Heavy music suddenly filled the village, making several of the villagers jump in surprise, and then a male voice sung in response to Emily's words. It was all a magnificent show, and when Emily got to pass the Rune, a sudden pillar of flame roared upwards, engulfing the entire village and scrapping the heavens before dissapating, and leaving a woman, floating on nothing, with five bushy tails spread out behind her. It saw Emily, and then was suddenly in front of her, in the blink of an eye.
"Hello darling" The Kitsune cooed, giggling softly to itself.

[Lugubrious]

“A trivial task. It will be done. Once my surveillance is complete, I will move on the dwarven outpost. Demonic suggestion and manipulation is all well and good, but objectives are accomplished with soldiers.” Clotho released an ear-ringing shriek, and the ground nearby began to shift. The terrain rumbled and caved as a pair of Antlions pushed through, leaving a tunnel behind them from which emerged Myrmidons, Lambent, and the most tactical of Clotho's creations, the Macula. These platter-sized, ticklike insects were slow, unintelligent, and useless for combat, but the huge eyes in their abdomens watched their surroundings tirelessly, and relayed the reticular images back to a focusing chamber in Clotho's hive.

The swarm queen communicated her instructions to her minions in their own language, and when she was done the Antlions tore into the ground again, this time in the direction of the outpost. They would carve a network of tunnels beneath the settlement, using their finely-tuned subterranean senses to avoid the tunnels fashioned by dwarfs, and the Macula alone would breach the surface to infest the town, watching everything. If some were killed, it mattered not; Clotho could simply replace them, and the ease in killing them would make the dwarfs more secure.

Clotho gave Twitch a wave. ”It is begun. The ambush will be set as the reconnaissance is performed, and all will be ready when the command is made. If you require my further attention, you can find my in my hive's Chamber of Eyes.” Leaving the demons and the Kobold behind, Clotho dipped back into the dungeon, zipping through tunnels past grunts and other monsters as she returned to her dwelling. Upon entering the Chamber of Eyes, she was for a moment entranced, as always. The inside of the room was analogous to the eye of a dragonfly, much larger of course, but on the inside. Each of what looked like octagonal screens were in fact living organisms, receiving long-distance impulses from the Macula and recoloring their surface pigments at high speed to capture what the bugs were currently looking at. For now, it was all drab, earthen tunnel, but soon Clotho anticipated perusing an entire dwarven settlement, ripe for the picking.

[BBeast]

Torrens chuckled under his breath (so to speak) at Athinar's insults and outrage. Someone's pissed, he thought to himself, although he had the good sense to not say that aloud. What he did say was, "Of course, Captain Boss Man. I was just making it clear for everyone." He gave a mock bow and stepped back. It was true that Torrens did not fear Athinar, since contrary to Athinar's own experience with corporeal forms Torrens' body was not breakable, so he feared no injury. That, and Athinar was made of flesh while Torrens' body was thousands of degrees, one of which would beat the other with ease. Of course, a fight before the raid would be counterproductive, and he hoped that they would be able to continue to the raid, but his concerns for himself were minimal.

[Cyclone]

With some degree of amusement, the imps that Athinar commanded to build a portal told him that they could do no such thing. Teleporting back to the Dungeon from elsewhere was easy enough, especially because the Master could help on his end, but for their magic to open a reliable rift to some faraway location was nearly impossible. Otherwise, the Horde would have simply teleported straight into Ardebit's capital and sacked the place. No, the mighty Athinar would have to walk.

Still, it was not a terribly long march. They passed the still smoldering ruins of the past village at noon, and then before they knew it, dusk fell. Fortunately it was only a short night march from there before they were nearly upon their target village. The midnight land was an inky black, illuminated only by the eerie, scarce light of a full moon. In this black hour the forces of evil at last arrived to crush this sleepy town.

Their Predicament

Shrouded in the oppressive darkness, the warband managed to stroll right down one of the roads leading right into the town and were now within sights of its palisades. The wooden walls were perhaps a foot thick and a dozen times that high. The palisade was mostly constructed of large vertical logs whose tops were sharpened, though they was also the occasional horizontal bar for reinforcement. It was a sturdy wall and would be fairly hard to scale, but there were plenty of gates to sieze and of course the wooden wall could simply be burned down.

The gates of the town were of course closed at night, and while they were made of sturdy oak Torrens or Shukra would be able to obliterate them easily enough with their fire. In any case, there were a few guards on watch by the gate, but nearby torches illuminated them to any attacker while also rendering them night blind. To top that, the guards had a keg of some sort of alcohol that they were most likely drunk off of. Those guards would be easy pickings.

The village did have a small garrison, which was located within an unassuming barracks inconveniently in the heart of the township. The commotion from charging the village would most likely rouse the few dozen guards, and while they might be slow to react, once they did come out there could be trouble as they were armed fairly well and knew every street and alley.

Beyond that, here were not many buildings so tall as to be discerned in the darkness from so far away and on the other side of the palisade. Three buildings did dominate the town, however: there was an old yet rather grand villa that was surely home to the knightly family that lorded over these parts, there was a rather large inn of three stories that would most likely be full of drunkards and bustling with activity even at this hour, and then there was a most unusual structure hewn from blocks of stone, with one side black and one side white.

That third building was the local temple, and just a glance would be enough for one to know that this was no ordinary Temple to the Holy Light filled with monks and clerics. Unlike the last village, and indeed much of these rural parts, this was a temple to two foreign gods from across the sea: Caldor, mighty lord of fire, bravery, and conquest, and then Unda, the water goddess whose domain included storms, healing, life, and prosperity. Any who had been to the larger coastal cities of Ardebit or to lands across the sea might know about this strange religion. It was slowly spreading throughout the Kingdom, though most rural places like this retained the older faith that kept to beliefs of holy magic, celestial heavens, and angels.

The worshipers of Caldor and Unda knew no such holy magic. Indeed, to them such things were witchcraft: the clergy that would be found within the temple would be powerful sorcerers, but they would fight by manipulating fire, ice, water, and lightning rather than invoking some sort of spirits or holy power like most other priests or monks would.

But before they did anything to the village, it would be wise of them to assess the nearby area. All around them were orchards and farmlands, and while the small farmhouses were few and far between, there was the risk of the orcs surrounding the town being seen, and some farmers would likely be roused by the sound of battle. If that happened some farmers might flee and spread word of the attack, while others might grab their weapons, form mobs, and foolishly charge to the rescue. Perhaps it would be wise to visit all of the isolated farmhouses first before turning to the village.

[PhoenixFire]

A dark figure sits on a throne made out of rock inside one of the abandoned tunnels underneath the Dwarven Outpost. The strange creature is clothed in black robes that cover everything but its head and hands, the head of the creature is like that of a four tentacled octopus with purple skin and pupilless milk white eyes peering at the strange insect that one of its Dwarven mind slaves is approaching with. "My Lord Xallihion, we found a couple of these strange bugs crawling through the tunnel. None of the others know what they are, but they are very easy to kill" The former Dwarven miner will stop about five feet from Xallihion, kneeling down and offering up the dead insect that has a single wound where its head is, obviously from the pickaxe that the Dwarf still has on his hip.

Xallihion will lean forward in his stone throne and after a few seconds the Dwarf will hear a voice in his mind, Get rid of the body and kill any others that approach this area, Now. As the Dwarf stands up and bows, Xallihion will lean back in his throne and watches the Dwarf leave and gather the other five Dwarven mind slaves that Xallihion has under his control. It appears someone else is interested in these Dwarves, I could feel the connection between that insect and something stronger than it and far away. With his tentacles moving faster than their normal slow movements, they are the only sign of Xallihion's growing interest in this new player that is coming into his territory, Well then, shall we see who is more suited to being in my service? With that, Xallihion gets more comfortable in his throne and summons a small orb that allows him to see the Dwarven Outpost above him, fully intending to sit back and watch the show in safety and comfort.

[BBeast]

On the approach to the town Torrens made an effort to keep a low profile. In the darkness of night, his incandescence was all too plain, and any guards looking anywhere near his direction would certainly notice the glow. With any luck, they would just think it was a normal person carrying a torch and glance over it, although that might be a bit of a stretch of expectations. Stealth was not something he was any good at. Most things to hide behind were rather flammable, so cover was very, very limited. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he started his part of the attack, the better.

"Hey, Athinar, how long should I wait before I start burning things?" he asked in hushed tones.

[Athinar]

Athinar looked down on the village, surrounded by his fellow champions of the Master, from a ridge that wasn't that high, but it was far enough away to overlook the town as well. Viewing devices hung from his belt, and one of them was held in a massive palm, spyglass to Athinar's eye. His helmet was on the ground beside him, and he looked around at the town, noting several farmhouses and hunter's cabins in the surrounding area. It would be best if there was a distraction, or if the peasants were all crushed quickly and quietly. The main population was in the village center, and the outliers would be an acceptable loss.

However. If the peasants formed a mob, and attracted enough attention from the village, maybe the guards would leave the town. Maybe. There was also a good chance that they would fortify the town as well, and ignore the farmers. However, this would severely affect the morale of the defenders, and make it easier for the attackers to take down a shaken enemy.

Tossing the spyglass and other viewing devices to an imp, who had been brought for the sole purpose of carrying the instruments, Athinar clapped his hands together, and pulled his helm on. "We don't have that many frontline fighters, other than those Vorhaas Orcs, and they're barely two hundred strong. We'd be needing three-quarters of those to surround the village, so Torrens and Shukra," he said this with a grimace of mild distaste under his thick metal helm, "Unfortunately, you'll be left with 50 or so Orcs. Not as many as I'd like to send you out with, but still. If used correctly, we'll be able to accomplish our objectives."

Looking Torrens over, appraising him, Athinar looked back at the town. "Every moment you stay out here, the greater the chance that some peasant will notice you. I'd like you to draw attention to one of the outlying farms. If a fire starts, and a family is killed inside, or even better, if there's a survivor, it'll draw those sheep-shaggers together like a moth to their filthy lamps. Their sense of community is commendable, if foolish." Turning to Shukra, Athinar pointed out several of the other farmhouses. "Listen, I want your Orcs to ambush anyone foolish enough to go rushing through the woods, or leave the gate, to go help. There are several areas where the woods appear to be thicker, so they would be excellent ambush sites. While this is happening, my team will gain one of the gates on the east side of town, and head towards the temple. Azavarn, feel free to roam and make any deals that you feel would be appropriate to help the cause. Also, as we discussed earlier, the remaining Orcs will surround the town, catching any runaways, and preventing any help from arriving. Torrens, wait for us to get in position to execute the plan, before you burn down the house. Narza, you will tell Torrens when to start, and then come immediately back. Azavarn, to start off, I'd go to the tavern, or barracks." The grin on his mask matched his face, under the metal casing. "Should be FILLED with your sort of people." Athinar stood up, saying, "Head out. And BE CAREFUL to not draw attention before you need to."

Athinar then started to run at a speed that few long-distance couriers could match, loping pace reminding some of a vicious wolf, or other predator. If the others weren't right behind him, well, he would enjoy this all himself.

Deep in Athinar's subconscious

Something stirred inside the man. It was not noticeable yet, but over the course of the battle, he would find his need for blood to increase, and his patience fray. This might affect the viciousness of his plans, but it wouldn't interfere with his judgement.

[BBeast]

Torrens nodded on receiving his orders. "You can count on me." As the group began to split Torrens gave a casual salute and descended to the farms, approaching the indicated house. He had spied out the area beforehand from the ridge, and had spotted what appeared to be a ditch not too far from his target. As such, he sprinted along a path, his pace unhampered by the need of oxygen or chemical energy, and slid into the ditch, finding it a bit muddy but not full of water, which was alright. In the ditch, which should provide ample cover, he lay on his back and waited. The mud around him dried almost instantly, and after a short while the dirt began to melt, although the glow from that wasn't any brighter than his own, so he stayed put and got comfortable. Although he wanted to move out and burn stuff as soon as possible, Torrens knew he had to wait for the signal from Narza, and so wait he did.

[Markofkri]

The wind stirred some of the branches below the weeping tree. The leaves and surrounding grass started to turn brown and wither. Slowly the shadow grew and began to take shape. A image of a warrior in old styled armor became less transparent and a sword of smoke grew from his left hand. The face was a dark shadow under a ragged hood. This image of a nightmare born of mens fear grew denser. It could feel the impending evil descending on this area. Like the eye of pure hate burning the towns soul. Whether or not the inhabitants were aware was irrelevant. Death had come to them like a murder of crows to the smell of carrion.

It knew now was the time. It descended into one of the farming villages closest to the town, greeted by the brief shrills of fear. The sword pierced their souls ignoring the meat. Their hearts stopped and their lips turned blue. The flesh on their bodies turned putrid and a dark green. His image looked real except for the space between his feet and the ground...