tunnel only to find it blocked by a carefully orchestrated cave in. After a day of excavating, the tunnel cleared, but the Ulrog discovered no chamber of safety. Instead, the tunnel ran straight and true beneath the Zorim toward the rolling hills of Zodra. Pursuit proved impossible. Vespewl dare not bottle his massive force within this narrow passage. The evidence forced the Malveel lord to accept the Keltaran’s escape.
Several packs and a minor priest remained to repair the mountain city and defend it, lest by some trickery the giants returned. Vespewl and the remainder of his army exited Hrafnu’s valley through the gorge. His trackers raced ahead to pick up the trail of the Keltaran.
Now they marched through the Zodrian countryside, deeper into the territory of the Guardsmen than any pack previously ventured. This knowledge tempered Vespewl’s anger with an edge of satisfaction. He, “The Great Scourge”, became the first of the Chosen to stab into the heart of the human domain. Vespewl would be the first of the Malveel to look upon the walls of Zodra and , if Woil could be contained with his tasks to the north, Vespewl would be the first to occupy the city where Amird came to power. No matter the accomplishments of his brethren, Amird must look favorably upon Vespewl’s feat.
A group of trackers rushed toward his location.
“My lord,” bowed the leader.
“Go on,” growled Vespewl.
“The Keltaran refugees race to the east,” continued the tracker. “But we discovered interesting signs to the south.”
“Out with it,” snapped Vespewl.
The Hackle bobbed his head in assent.
“A series of fierce battles took place along a group of hills known as ‘The Bear’s Knuckles’ ,” explained the tracker. “The Keltaran army met a contingent of Guardsmen along these hills and battle raged for nearly two days.”
“The dead?” inquired Vespewl with a leer.
“Not a significant number,” replied the tracker. “The humans hastily erected several barrows and mounds.”
“Not significant?” snarled Vespewl. “Who claimed victory? In which direction does the chase go?”
The tracker’s face betrayed no emotion.
“No chase occurred, my lord ....” he hesitated. “The forces united.”
“UNITED!!!” raged Vespewl. “Impossible! The enmity between these human tribes endures millennia. Fenrel would rather die than unite with the Zodrians.”
The tracker’s eyes locked on the ground beneath Vespewl.
“They erected a single mound on a parcel of scorched battlefield, my lord,” announced the tracker slowly. “The remnants of burnt Ramsskull banners and vestments covered the grave. We believe it to contain the body of Fenrel the Keltaran.”
Vespewl’s eyes narrowed and a hiss escaped from the depths of his chest.
“Then we are to face the combined might of the humans,” whispered the Malveel to himself. “Izgra’s plan collapses.”
Vespewl’s claw shot out and thrust the tracker aside. His head snapped toward the two dozen motionless Hackles chosen to transport him.
“Get to your stations!” roared Vespewl. “We must make ground on the Keltaran filth who escape us.”
The Ulrog jumped to their places and quickly lifted the litter. Vespewl glared at the prone tracker.
“Use half of your assets to track the newly formed human army,” demanded the beast. “I must attack them before they reach the walls of Zodra. Failure is not permissible!”
The tracker leapt to his feet, bowed and sprinted from the presence of the Malveel.
CHAPTER 5: LAMENTATIONS
“CONQUEST REQUIRES SACRIFICE,” thought Nagret the Shadow.
Woil the Lamentation taught him the concept years ago and Nagret took the lesson to heart. He was glad to have listened.
Woil demonstrated simple tactics and used them effectively for years. The Lamentation would bait the Zodrians into a skirmish by presenting Nagret and a small force of Hackles on the wrong side of the Frizgard River. This tactic drew the
Several packs and a minor priest remained to repair the mountain city and defend it, lest by some trickery the giants returned. Vespewl and the remainder of his army exited Hrafnu’s valley through the gorge. His trackers raced ahead to pick up the trail of the Keltaran.
Now they marched through the Zodrian countryside, deeper into the territory of the Guardsmen than any pack previously ventured. This knowledge tempered Vespewl’s anger with an edge of satisfaction. He, “The Great Scourge”, became the first of the Chosen to stab into the heart of the human domain. Vespewl would be the first of the Malveel to look upon the walls of Zodra and , if Woil could be contained with his tasks to the north, Vespewl would be the first to occupy the city where Amird came to power. No matter the accomplishments of his brethren, Amird must look favorably upon Vespewl’s feat.
A group of trackers rushed toward his location.
“My lord,” bowed the leader.
“Go on,” growled Vespewl.
“The Keltaran refugees race to the east,” continued the tracker. “But we discovered interesting signs to the south.”
“Out with it,” snapped Vespewl.
The Hackle bobbed his head in assent.
“A series of fierce battles took place along a group of hills known as ‘The Bear’s Knuckles’ ,” explained the tracker. “The Keltaran army met a contingent of Guardsmen along these hills and battle raged for nearly two days.”
“The dead?” inquired Vespewl with a leer.
“Not a significant number,” replied the tracker. “The humans hastily erected several barrows and mounds.”
“Not significant?” snarled Vespewl. “Who claimed victory? In which direction does the chase go?”
The tracker’s face betrayed no emotion.
“No chase occurred, my lord ....” he hesitated. “The forces united.”
“UNITED!!!” raged Vespewl. “Impossible! The enmity between these human tribes endures millennia. Fenrel would rather die than unite with the Zodrians.”
The tracker’s eyes locked on the ground beneath Vespewl.
“They erected a single mound on a parcel of scorched battlefield, my lord,” announced the tracker slowly. “The remnants of burnt Ramsskull banners and vestments covered the grave. We believe it to contain the body of Fenrel the Keltaran.”
Vespewl’s eyes narrowed and a hiss escaped from the depths of his chest.
“Then we are to face the combined might of the humans,” whispered the Malveel to himself. “Izgra’s plan collapses.”
Vespewl’s claw shot out and thrust the tracker aside. His head snapped toward the two dozen motionless Hackles chosen to transport him.
“Get to your stations!” roared Vespewl. “We must make ground on the Keltaran filth who escape us.”
The Ulrog jumped to their places and quickly lifted the litter. Vespewl glared at the prone tracker.
“Use half of your assets to track the newly formed human army,” demanded the beast. “I must attack them before they reach the walls of Zodra. Failure is not permissible!”
The tracker leapt to his feet, bowed and sprinted from the presence of the Malveel.
CHAPTER 5: LAMENTATIONS
“CONQUEST REQUIRES SACRIFICE,” thought Nagret the Shadow.
Woil the Lamentation taught him the concept years ago and Nagret took the lesson to heart. He was glad to have listened.
Woil demonstrated simple tactics and used them effectively for years. The Lamentation would bait the Zodrians into a skirmish by presenting Nagret and a small force of Hackles on the wrong side of the Frizgard River. This tactic drew the
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