Mortality is Weakness

Chapter one: Take up thy dagger…

The lands of Zerot. A peaceful land untouched by the ravages of war and greed full of rolling planes that are home to many human farmers working hard to feed their nation. Further north are peaks so high they tear right through the clouds the snow falls heavy enough to blind even the most experienced of climber and many have fallen victim to its piercing chill.. More central are the dense forests of Saroth and Karath much of the land inside here is undiscovered but it has claimed the lives of many of the loot hungry that dare venture into the mysterious forests.

Saroth is a rather blue looking forest and there is near no light that manages to fight its way through the clouds people know not of what the ground is made of but they say it is much too solid to be mud. Those who have survived the forests plummeting temperatures tell tales of twisted visions and they hear things that are not there eventually the visions drive the weaker mind insane and those that went in never usually come out.

Karath however is a much different kind of forest. It is full of light whereas none of it is from the ever burning sun it is all from glowing fungi or radioactive or illuminate plants. But looks can be deceiving, Karath is a much prettier place than Saroth but it is by far more deadly. Nobody that has entered the jungle has returned… Alive. The mangled corpses of the slain are always found outside the forest. The majority decapitated or dismembered of some limbs. They say it is a god that will one day bring wrath down upon the people; others say it is just a savage beast. Nobody knows for sure.

In Zerot there are three major factions. To the north are the peaceful race of the Orcs however their peaceful nature does not stop them from being the most frightful warriors upon the field of battle even if slightly unorganised. They are under the rule of a stern Orc named Kred a high shaman that proved his worth by saving his people from the demon lord Teth’Karash, The demon lord of Chaos. Kred looks like any other orc with long black hair and a chain-mail robe that droops down to his feet. But the only difference between Kred and an ordinary orc is his powers. His is able to control the spirits of earth, wind, water and fire and call upon them in times of need, Even if they may refuse. There are many sub-rulers to Kred that rule Clans such as the Stonehammer and Bloodpaw two of the most prestigious that are small but elite and all together they create ‘The Swarm’.

In the far south lie the humans. A wise and intelligent race ruled by a Paladin of the light named. Much like the Orcs they are savage fighters but they specialise more in the ways of the arcane. In the heart of this great nation is the tree of tranquillity of which many a tale has formed. They say the Queen herself was born beneath this tree. Others say it is where the goddess of harmony, Alrisha, protected the last of the Shatari before she was slain. But the very foundation of this great nation sits upon her throne guarded by the most elite soldiers trained by the former king himself. Queen Sarah Kerrigan the 3rd. She is one of the few females that were allowed to be armoured frontline soldiers as the previous views of the king were that only men may fight on the front line but the women way assist with the magical arts. She is well built and in the eyes of many a beautiful ruler. Closest to her are her advisors. The Headmaster of the school of Magic, Calax Riverton. And the captain of the Iron Stones, Sir Sarwen ‘Battering Ram’ Johnson. Rumour has it that Sarwen is the god of War, Sortashnir, but resorts to his human form and walks among the royalty of ‘The Iron Will’.

Chapter 2: …And thrust through thy heart.

For years the many races of Zeroth have lived together without trouble. They share land they trade loot and they agree to terms to keep all of them happy. But some people do not stick to the rules and they become cast out from their faction. But where do they go? They travel far East towards the hidden city of Backland. Backland is where all of the outcasts collect. It is a very brutal place with sole intent of destroying all civilised settlements that are placed around Zeroth. But even among chaos there is order. The ruler of this settlement is a victim of the forbidden art of Necromancy. She sits upon her throne of bones and skulls… No advisors just herself. Her eyes glow dimly yellow and even her name can cause the strongest of men to crumble. Her name is Anthrax and her sole intent is to slaughter everyone and raise them up as undead, or Forsaken as they prefer to be called, and force them to her will.

After many years of solitude Anthrax had finally got what she had waited for, unrest between the Orcs and Humans. With a wicked grin on her face she hauled herself out of her throne and slowly walked over to her balcony to address her people.

“All Human and Orc outcasts… Report to the front gate… NOW!”

A stampede of Orcs and Humans rushed towards the front gate and congregated in an arc shape around Anthrax and with a wicked grin on her face she unveiled her plan.
Back at the Orcish nation of Rez’Gar Kred was sat upon his throne. All was quiet as he thought over the unrest between the humans of The Iron Will. Faintly in the distance the voice of a scout is heared bellowing through the streets.

“Your Lordship! Your Lordship! This is of utmost urgency!”

With a sigh Kred pulled himself up from his throne and looked down at the Orc Scout.

“What is it my Brother?” he questioned to the Scout

“A small group of armed Humans are heading this way sir! They seek war!” he said with fear in his tone.

Kred instantly replied “WHAT?! They DARE attack US?”

He marched into the center of town with his most loyal of guards.

“People of Rez’Gar! We are besieged! Grab your swords! Ready your shields and magic! Together Brothers and Sisters, we shall slaughter the Humans that dare invade our homes! By the spirits, this is war!”

The people roared with the battle cry of “Tho Kartosh!” which means For Victory in their language. The townsfolk rushed to the South Eastern gate and readied their bows, Sheilds and spells alike as the small group of humans slowly came into view.

The leader of this small group runs by the name of nothing more than ‘Spike’ and with nothing more than a grin he charged into the fray yelling “For Honour! For Queen Sarah Kerrigan! For the Iron Will!” he drew his sword and roared fiercely as the other humans followed suit.

In the distance Spike heard the faint sound of “Fire!” he looked up slightly to see a rain of arrows coming towards his position. He yelled for his men to advance quickly but their inexperience cost them some men as few managed to make it away from the flurry of arrows. Eventually they reach the front gate. Spike swing his sword vigorously at the frontal orc with so much force behind him the shield shattered and with one mighty blow the orc was no more. The battle raged on for several minutes. The bodies of slain Humans and Orcs littered the ground outside the front gate but due to the sheer numbers of the Orcs the humans of Backland began to dwindle.

Spike noticed the loss of his arms men, but he knew this would happen. “Retreat!” he yelled as him and his men darted down back towards Backland.

“Leave none alive!” Kred yelled from atop the wall. As several Orcs roared and charged down the hill. Spike knew he wouldn’t outrun them with his injuries. He stopped and dropped his blade to the floor as he grinned. Slowly he turned around to face the Orcs as he held his hand out infront of him.

Suddenly spike yells “Shata ko rathi!” as a purple flame explodes from his hand completely incinerating the several orcs but brutally dethatching his arm from his shoulder. As the blood sprayed out of the fatal wound he fell to his knees still with the grin fixed on his face and with his last breath he utters “My life… for… Anthrax…” he falls face first into the grass as the blood slowly runs down the hill.

Meanwhile at the human capital of Sershir the Orcs of Backland began their march towards the front gate. The humans were prepared for invasion due to recent unrest with the Orcs and the walls were lined with mages and the ground in front covered in heavily armoured soldiers and leading all of this was no other than Sir Sarwen. The Orcs stopped and gathered into an arrow formation. The leader of this pack known little more than by the name of Rend stood at the front and bellowed…

“Tho Kartosh! For Rez’Gar!” before rushing into the heavily fortified human capital.

Near instantly half of the orcs were incinerated by the Pyromancers or frozen solid by the Cryomancers. This completely destroyed the morel of the Orcs and many fled. Few remained but they continued to charge to their deaths. Sir Sarwen pins his eyes on Rend and readies his Blade, The Voice of Sortashnir.

Rend roars and strikes at Sir Sarwen. He easily out manuvers the inexperienced Orc and thusts his blade through his back. Sir Sarwen shows no mercy upon the orc and keeps his blade within the orc until he dies. The rest of the orcs are easily slain by the elite guardians.

Rend starts to cackle manically then yells “Kra’thor!” as he explodes into a bloody mess throwing Sarwen into several of his men. Sarwen removes his helm.
“Orc scum… Death Magic is for the weak…” he uttered.

He pulled himself up and walked infront of his men and turned to face them.

“My fellow arms men! The orcs have defiled our lands! As Advisor to the Queen and Captain of The Iron Stones I declare war!”

Chapter 3: The First steps of a Hero - This Contains Scenes of a Sexual Nature

While the war begins between the Orcs and the Humans the everlasting battle between the Elves and the trolls still wages in the south western areas of Zerot. But this war is not to destroy the other nor is it for lost treasures it is for mere survival. The Elves require magic to fulfil their need for power flowing through their blood stream to sustain their magical abilities for once it is lost it shall never return. Sources they can use are the Illuminari Crystals that can be found within the nearby forests they emit their power and the elves absorb it through their skin. Another is Bladegrass it can be eaten which then gives it magic straight into the blood stream however this is highly addictive and the elves rarely use it. And the final source of their power is the rare stones of eternity. They can never run out of power and their range is massive big enough to source a full sized village.

The troll however need the same things but for different reasons. They need the Bladegrass for potions to keep their taint under control without the Bladegrass the taint shall take over their bodies and they are destroyed slowly and painfully from the inside by the screams by the Demon Lord of Torture, Sel’trashid. They require the Illuminari Crystals so that they can keep the support of their god Thashi, The God of Hope, as without his blessing the Trolls shall lose their will to live and the Taint shall take over their bodies. And the Stones of Eternity are how they chose their rulers as devouring the stone shall imbue the person with the powers of Pyro, Cryo, Aero, Hydro and Electromancers.

The leader of the trolls of Zul’jushi, Gattus, a gifted Herbomancer or Druid as he prefers to be called. Caught wind of the imminent war between the Orcs and Humans. As a religious man he knew that if this war broke out of hand it may affect people’s views on the Gods and the Demon Lords may take this advantage to get into the world of the living. Gattus in the time of urgency grabbed his white flag and made his way to the Elven city of Sundawn.

Upon approaching the Elven city of Sundawn Gattus is greeted with the sound of Captain Elsha Goldwing.

“Mancers! Rangers! On the walls! We got a troll incoming!”

The huge gate rumble loudly as it slowly opens. Emerging from the glowing inside of the city is Captain Elsha Goldwing herself. Sword and shield drawn and in a defensive position she cautiously walks over to Gattus .

“Ashnir Troll, What is it that brings you here?” she questioned

“Ah mean yah no harm mon ah bring yah grav’ wanin’” he replied

Reluctantly sheathing her blade she looks closely at Gattus and inspects him quickly before pulling off her helmet and shaking out her long blonde hair.

“Then do not time waste, if it is so urgent follow me” she said before swiftly followed by yelling “Mancers! Rangers! Back to where you were!”

Gattus follows the elf and inspects her while she is not looking. “At leas’ dah’ elv woman be goo’” he thought to himself with a smirk on his face. He continued to follow the Captain through the front gate. They rumbled closed behind him. The elves looked at him like some sort of freak; they clearly did not like his presence here.

Upon approaching the council room the several guards all turned to look at him and raised their shields. Gattus sighs deeply waving at them all smiling. And in return he gets sever dagger stares shortly after entering the hall he rolls his eyes and mutters “Elves…” instantly followed by a cough from the Captain.

As the approach the centre of the room three elven figures stand before the Captain they all salute her. She turns to Gattus and pushes him forward.

“Tell them Troll” she said.

Gattus nods. “Der be big problam mon…”

The elf on the right steps forward and begins to address the troll.

“Ashnir Troll. I am Jaifelas Windflame, I am a Chronomancer and also the second head of the Council. We wish to know what you have to tell us”

“Ah be Gattus mon, and ah be ‘ere tah tell yah ‘bout da war between dah ‘umans and dah orcs in dah cetah o’ Zerot” Gattus said clearly.

The middle figure quickly replies “How can this be? The Humans and Orcs are both peacefull races?!”

Gattus replies with “Ah dunt no mon. Ah don’t know”

“This is an outrage!” She yelled.

“Lyshae my dear calm down we cannot stop this war… it is too late…” Jaifelas said calmingly.
“By the light… we’re doomed…” She said before burying her head in her hands.

Jaifelas places an arm around her comfortingly trying to calm her down and keep her spirits up high.

“Hope is not lost… Brothers and Sisters perhaps if we send in one of our own we may quell the uprising war” Said the final figure.

“And ‘oh yah be mon?” Gattus said with a shrug.

“I am Paresio Lightstouch, 1st head of the elven council and I know just the man” He said with a smile. “Elsha fetch us the Marksman”

Elsha nods before running off out of the room.

“Make yourself at home Troll.” Said Paresio. Gattus smiled widely.

Elsha stopped outside the door of the house she needed to be at. She sighed happily and stared at the door checking her hair and how she looks before knocking on the door. Slowly the door creaked open and no other than the elite marksman, The Banisher of Kar’tantanshe the Demon Lord of Terror, Thas Sunreach. Thas eyed the Captain up and down while leaning on the door frame.

“Master Thas you are needed once again. The Orcs and Humans are at War!” commanded the captain.

“I shall do as you say… But first…” Thas replied before grabbing her and kissing her on the lips. Elsha blushed heavily.

“First you must do something for me” Thas said with a grin.

“Anything” she replied obviously swept off her feet.

Thas then takes her inside and shuts the door behind him some moans and groans are heard occasionally and neither is seen for hours.

Eventually the day breaks. Thas leaves his house to walk straight into the Elven council.

“Thas your time to serve us once more has arrived”

Chapter 4: Path of the Chosen

Thas is escorted to the front gate by the elven council and Captain Elsha Goldwing. Both Thas and Elsha were is a bit of a state as they had little time to prepare. Thas walked upfront continuously trying to get his hair right as a rough night made it messy. Not so far behind Elsha was still in her sleeping gear she was slightly red both from being hot and slightly embarrassed but she was unable to take her eyes off of Thas. Eventually the group had reached the front gate of the city of Sundawn and Thas turned to face the group that had now arced around him.

Paresio stepped forward. “Master Thas Sunreach. Banisher of the Demon Lord Kar’Tantanshe as the 1st head of the elven council I call upon your aid once again. We need you to quell any uprising that happens within the Orcish or Human Capitals. Your skills excel far past any of the average ranger and we pray that Sortashnir, The God of War, waches over you.”

The four Salute Thas and Thas salutes them back. Elsha stepped forward and looked deeply into Thas’ eyes before hugging him tightly.

“I love you “she whispered into his ear before kissing him and pulling away and looking at him sadly as the light glistened in her eyes.

Thas stared at her for a while before sighing deeply. From his pocket he pulled a golden coin from the Human Empire he placed a kiss on its chilled metal face before placing it into Elsha’s hand smiling at her.

“Now I shall always be remembered” he said while moving closer and places a soft kiss upon her lips.

She smiles with joy and throws her arms around Thas giving him a huge hug.

“Thas…” Paresio interrupts. “Sorry to be so hastily but time is something we cannot spare.”

Thas pulls away from Elsha and sighs “Your right… I must go… Jaifelas do you have my crossbow?”

“Indeed I do, Sir” Jaifelas said as he passes Thas’ Demonslayer over.

As Thas grabs the handle the eyes of the skull glow green and a Bolt appears in it ready to fire. He nods and places it onto his arm. The light of the eyes fade away and the Bolt disappears.

“Now Thas you have two choices, you can either go to the lands of the Human Empire in the south or the Orcish Empire in the north. Whichever you choose may affect the companions you will encounter and will most certainly affect what Demon Lords you may encounter and what God’s blessing you may obtain.” Paresio stated.

Thas nodded before heading off towards the Nation of his choosing… Thas was never good at making decisions.

Slowly Thas made his way to the highest lookout point that was reachable. Both Rez’Gar and Sershir are in view Thas has millions of lives on his shoulders so he decides to camp for the night before making his decision.

Chapter 5: The judgment of a Mortal

Thas sat on the edge of the cliff with his armoured legs hanging over the edge. Knowing what is at stake he cast his gaze upon the city of Sershir. Sershir a this time of day was bustling with life the hoard of crowds within the Market can be heard echoing through the nearby valleys. A few moments later the commanding voice of Sir Sarwen roared from the Military Training Grounds. Thas places his gaze upon the grounds as Sarwen begins his training exercises. Thas watches intently as the humans have only done training before battles. This was bad news.

Over a period of time the crowds started to gather more and more to the centre of the city. The visibility was lacking but Thas was able to see a fair amount. Eventually the crowd went silent as a masked man with a large battle axe walked out of the crowd onto a wooden platform and upon reaching the centre of it he turned to the crowd.
“Bring fourth… the Orc!” he bellowed.

Shocked Thas stood up and grabbed his telescope from a survival belt and looked further into the crowd. A lone Orc was being escorted by elite guardsmen onto the wooden platform. The masked man struck him in the stomach with the hilt of his axe yelling “Kneel!” forcively the Orc did so.

The masked man steps forward. “People of Seshir. We are at War with the Orcs. You do not need to shelter your women and children as this shall be an easy victory! The orcs are brutal and are without formation and they shall be swatted like flies. And this O-…”

“Hah! Human Dog… you know nothing of what you are getting into…” The Orc yelled in frustration. “If one of us falls, there are millions of us left to swarm your puny race and slaughter everyone left standing!”

The Executioner replied. “Then Orc… you are the first of MANY!” swiftly he swung around swinging the axe downward with all his force completely destroying the Orcs skull as it rips it into two pieces. Still attached to his head the blood poured from the wound and his lifeless corpse toppled over. The crowd roared with cheers.

Thas was shocked by the humans actions as he sees a small invasion force led by one of the captains most trusted guardsmen, Knight Vickram Wrenn, was advancing at a steady pace towards the Orcish settlement of Tel’Gar before making their way to Rez’Gar. It will take them a while to get around the forests of Saroth and Karath but Thas has little time if he is to intervene.

Meanwhile back at Backland Mistress Anthrax’s throne room is entered by a Scout.
“My lady, Your plan was a success the deployment of our men at both Sershir and Rez’Gar has sparked a war between the Orcs and Humans, the chances of the Trolls and Elves getting involved is uncertain but our further scouts will be able to keep an eye on the valleys.”

Anthrax grinned from the shadows and pulled herself up from the Throne. “Excellent soon I shall have my revenge on the wretched living of Zerot and a world of true chaos shall be born.”

The Scout interrupted. “My lady I have further news.”

“Oh?” Anthrax questioned. “Tell me then… What is it?”

The scout nodded. “The Humans have sent a large portion of their well-trained soldiers out to slaughter the orcs perhaps it is time to release… the Warlock?”

Anthrax grinned wickedly. “Send a group of Troll and Orc outcasts to attack Sershir. When the Humans think they are winning we pull back… Then we release him.”

“Of course.” The Scout bowed before Anthrax before running off to gather the Trolls and Orcs.

Anthrax lowered herself back into her throne of bones and skulls before leaning back into the shadows. “Soon… Soon they will return…”

Chapter 6: The First of Many

Back around the forests of Saroth and Karath Vickram Wrenn continued to march his small army of elite soldiers north towards the small settlement of Orcs known as Tel’Gar. The settlement of Tel’Gar is a forward camp that has little defence. It supplys Rez’Gar with lumber from the nearby forests and metals and the odd precious stone from the nearby mines. Leading this small village is Dorrlar Blacktooth, A cowardly Orc that made his way into the high ranks with bribery and seeing to the higher officers every whim to get his cowardly self to a higher power so people can fight for him. He offered to move himself to a different area of land and gather supplies for Rez’Gar in return for gold. Kred reluctantly agreed to his greedy idea and with around 100 people the small village of Tel’Gar was built, and soon to be turned to ash by the mighty Knight Vicram Wrenn.

The peons and troll slaves worked on chopping down tree’s and digging at rocks within the mine and every now and again a few orcs shall walk towards the stockpile near the centre of the village and place their goods ready to be transported up to Rez’Gar. A couple of the Peons began to hear the clang of plate armour in the distance and turned to look at the horizon. Slowly from the distance the unit of human Knights and Guardsmen marched towards to village before stopping.

The peon called another Orc other. “You see that?”

“I see it you know what it is?” The other Orc replied.

The first Orc shrugged before yelling “Hello!” and waving at the Humans.

Vickram saw the Orc waving at him and stepped forward. “Men… Today, we rid Zerot of the Orc scum.” He lowered the visor of his helmet.

Raising his sword into his battle position he yelled “Charge! For the Iron Will! For Queen Sarah Kerrigan! “As he rushed into battle.

The two Orcs stared blankly at the charging human unit. The first Orc moved his hand upward to wave at the humans but mid-way was confronted by a Guardsman and within seconds the cold steel of his blade had slashed through his chest and his blood dripped onto the ground. The Orc fell to his knees and shed his final tear. As the Second Orcs head was shattered under the brute force of a Warriors War-Hammer.

The screams of the terrified were heard throughout the village as one by one they were cut down by the cold steel and iron that the Humans were wielding. What little defence there was rushed towards the humans head on engaging them in combat. But due to the greedy leader of Tel’Gar the quality of their weapons and armour was poor and slowly but surely every last one of the defending Orcs was cut down.

“Round up all the villagers and burn the empty buildings!” Commanded Vickram.

“As you command, Sir!” multiple Guardsmen replied before rushing off and rounding up all remaining villagers.

Vickram paces around while taking off his helmet. “Orc ‘Chief’! Show yourself and defend you people! For I challenge you to a duel to the death!” he yelled out.

Dorrlar scurried over to a watch point from his hut and peered at Vickram but stays silent.

“So.. you stay hiding?” Vickram stated. Before eying the crowd of cowering villagers.

“You. Get here. NOW!” he said while pointing to the father of a family.

Cautiously the rather slim Orc stepped forward still cowering away from Vickram.

“So be it, Coward!” He yelled.

Vickram looked at the Orc before thrusting his blade through his heart and slowly twisting it before removing it from the lifeless corpse as it fell to the floor. Vickram spat on the body as the Wife and Baby started to mourn the loss.

“If you do not come out this shall be the fate for all of your people! Men, Women and children alike!” he roared.

Suddenly Dorrlar charged from behind a hut at Vickram blade in the air ready to strike as he yelled “Tho Kartosh!”. Vickram grinned and parried the imminent strike.

“About time you showed your worthless face, Orc Dog.” Vickram said to Dorrlar.

Dorrlar retaliated by spitting on his armour.

“Your death will be slow and painful.” Vickram said as he clashed blades once more with Dorrlar.

Dorrlar knew he was to weak to defeat Vickram his cowardice got the better of him. Pushing Vickram back with the edge of his blade he quickly scoops up some dust and threw it in Vickram’s eyes before fleeing for his life.

After regaining his composure Vickram dragged the Wife and Baby of the Orc that he had slain not too long ago. “Coward! You shall cost your race the lives of all the villagers!”. Knowing of her imminent demise the Wife shielded the child the best she could. Vickram, in his rage, kicked the Wife over onto her back and drove his blade through the child and into the body of the Wife before stabbing into the ground. He releases the Hilt from his grasp.

“Fetch me a new blade. Kill the rest of them and burn this village to the ground. We shall set up camp a few miles east of here before heading to deliver the final blow on Rez’Gar itself.” Vickram said before walking off. The sounds of screaming women filled the air around him as the blood from the slain oozed from their bodies.

Chapter 7: Twos company.

As Vickram purged the settlement of Tel’Gar. Our elven friend, Thas Sunreach was working his way through the mountains of Falshir. Falshir is a collection of tall mountains and huge valleys. The climate there can change dramatically in a few seconds from a light breeze to a gusting tornado. The weather itself has claimed more lives than its inhabitants. Few settlements are based in the valleys of Falshir as they protect from the icy winds of the northern lands but are also full of life so is easy to gather food but advancing technically is a problem due to the lack of iron and minerals in the valleys and lack of trade routes so many of the inhabitants are primal beasts that have adapted to the olden ways of living before what most people call ‘The Cleansing’.

Where many are based in the valleys a very small amount are based on the icy slopes and dark forests that are above the ground. The inhabitants of the villages there are rarely seen as they cut themselves off from other mortal beings. Usually Orcs and Trolls that live this high up, Referred to as Ice trolls and Frost Orcs, were banished from the main lands but they were of good will and did not serve under Anthrax’s rule and with little places to go to the area of Falshir is by far the furthest away from civilised life.

As Thas drove deeper into the woodlands that cover the lands the temperature slowly begins to plummet. Thas knew of the weather conditions around here but he did little to take precautions and was protected only by the Chain-Iron and cloth that he wears for battles. Over time the temperature continued to plummet and snow started to float down from the morning sky quickly painting the landscape a vibrant white that when the sun is out has the ability to blind the weary traveller. Knowing that the climate could change soon Thas started to seek shelter among the trees and snow of the woodlands. After an exhausting search Thas came across a small collection of huts and decided to take shelter from the harsh temperatures and have a rest for as little time as possible. Entering the hut he dropped his many collection of sacks onto the ground before finding a make shift bedding and begins his rest.

Hours later Thas slowly began to wake from his slumber collecting up the majority of his sacks before taking a look outside to check the conditions. The piercing chill remained but the snow had gone but behind it left a flooded landscape prone to mudslides. Unparsed by the treacherous conditions he set off in a hurry hoping to make up on the time he has lost. Fighting his way through tree’s and dodging potential mudslide areas Thas began to make good progress.

Back at the Hut a wolf crept inside the hut Thas rested in. Peering around it noticed one of Thas food pouches. The wolf sniffed it and grabbed Thas’ sent as it growled before dashing out the door barking viciously.

As Thas lost his food pouch he grew hungry and had nothing to eat. Knowing the area was full of wildlife Thas wielded his crossbow and started to look around for a nice catch. Thas walked out of the woods onto a plainer piece of land rather rocky with a large drop overlooking the valleys below. Growling began to rumble from within the trees. Suspecting a close combat fight with a vicious animal Thas placed his crossbow back onto his arm and wielded his blade.

Suddenly a bloodthirsty wolf dashed from behind him. Quickly he managed to dodge the Wolfs bite with minor injury and managing to slice it’s front leg. Disturbing the wolfs balance it failed to land properly and it crashed to the ground and slid across the rocky ground leaving a faint trail of blood before stopping just short of the cliff. Knowing the wolf may be playing dead. Cautiously he approached the lifeless wolf blade at the ready. Upon getting closer the wolf began to glow brightly. Thas shielded his eyes. The light faded and Thas lowered his hand to see what had happened and laying before his was a Frost Orc with a stab wound on his right leg.

Thas sheathed his blade and rushed in to help the injured Orc. The Orc held up his hand as a sign for him to stop. Placing his hands over the cut the Orcs hands began to glow green as the cut slowly began to visibly heal over all the damaged flesh.

Standing up the Orc bowed at Thas before walking back into the woods.

“Wait!” Thas yelled.

Slowly the Orc turned around to face him. “What do you want?”

“What happened to the wolf that I had injured just now?” he questioned.

With a smirk the Orc replied. “I see you are no inhabitant of Felshir. I am a Frosh’Tar Orc the majority of us are good men and women whose views were not tolerated under the rule of Kred. My name is Thaltarsh Tar’thonir but people call me Wolven”

“Ashnir Wolven, I am Thas Sunreach, Banisher of the Demon Lord Kar’Tantanshe. You may call me Trueshot if you wish.” He replied with an elegant bow.

“Thas Sunreach. I’ve heard tales of your Heroism before the Gods imprisoned the Demon Lords.” He commented.

“Enough about me… You were a Wolf were you not and what did you do to your injury?” Thas questioned.

“Ah yes well. I am one of the few remaining Orcs that have taken the path of Druidism I am able to shift into many a form and a Wolf are one of them. And the wound was just the powers of the nature channelled through me into my leg causing it to regrow more rapidly.” Wolven answered boldly.

“Your powers will be most useful. I ask you, what are your views on saving Zerot from total destruction but traveling to its far corners in search of relics of power to do so.” Stated Thas.
Wolven looked at Thas. “I shall join you on one condition.”

“Go ahead” Thas quickly said.

“I want you to try and persuade the Orcs to embrace the art of Druidism and not to outcast us like animals.” Asked Wolven with a serious tone.

Thas looked back at Wolven. “I am no elven ambassador but I shall do it.”

“And one last thing before we travel together Brave One.” Wolven said while pulling a blade from its sheath. “I require blood oath” he said as he slowly cut down the palm of his hand.
Removing his glove Thas looked at Wolven sternly. “I hope you shall pay your part in this war, Wolven”

Handing the blade over Wolven replied. “Indeed I shall.”

Slowly cutting down the palm of his hand the cold iron sliced through the skin. Thas and Wolven locked grips as their bloods fused as they gave each other a nod of acceptance.

((Loving this, keep it coming!))

Chapter 8: Kick them while their down… in numbers

As Vickram’s army continued to push south and ravage any non-human settlement they come across Anthrax’s plan sprang into action. Slowly Orcs and Troll started to gather a good distance away from Seshir and built up their forces. Leading this attack is the infamous elven assassin known as Zeshar ‘Duskblade’ Shur’torea. As he stood observing the field of which he shall lead the Orcs and Trolls in glorious bloodshed a small group of recruits walked up to him.

“Duskblade.” One of the members said as they all kneeled. “We are the final group assigned to fight. The time to attack is now.”

Duskblade slowly turned around his tattered cloak flying outwards revealing his serrated daggers that are concealed on his back. He gave a stern look at the group of recruits.
“Thank you for informing me Recruits” He said with a large grin. “But for disturbing my peace you shall be the very front line of your squad. Now gather up the troops and get into formation!”

A troll of the group swallowed his nerves with a loud gulp. Duskblade stared at him.

“Nervous are we Troll?” Duskblade questioned while slowly walking towards him

“Ah bound tah be nervas mon, Yah just t’rown meh on da fron’ line!” The recruit said back instantly regretting his choice of word then.

Duskblade stared at the troll. His eyes flashed a deep purple.

“Then I cannot risk you fleeing the field…” As Duskblade finished the final word a dagger was drove through the stomach of the troll. Duskblade fades from his original position and appears behind the troll holding the hilt of the dagger firmly as he puts his mouth near the troll’s ear.

“Thash un shari” he whispered into the ear of the troll. Blood began to leak from the corner of his mouth as Duskblade removed the dagger from the Trolls body. It fell to the ground lifelessly and slowly fades into a black dust. Duskblade sheathes his dagger and turns around to face many spectators.

“Anybody else nervous?” He asked the crowd of people as they all quickly got into formation.

He smirked. “Good” and slowly walked to the front of the formation and began the march south down to Seshir. Slowly the large attack force made its way down the various paths and through the various woodlands before coming into view of Sershir.

Atop one of the towers at the front gate stood a ranger keeping watch of the front gate. With a sigh he placed his elbow on the ledge and placed his head in his hand staring off into the horizon. He squinted at a rather large dot on the land on the rolling planes. Curious to as what this was the ranger picked up his telescope. Alarmed at what he saw he rushed to the opposite side of the tower dropping the telescope yelling down to the training ground. “Sound the Alarm! We got invaders!”

Within minutes bells echoed through the city and horns of war sounded from all barracks and training grounds as Mancers and Rangers filled the Towers and lined the Walls and foot soldiers flooded from the front gate. Sir Sarwen guarded the inner gate with as many of the elite that remained.

Duskblade noticed the sudden build-up of human defences and ordered his men back into formation. “Back into formation! And remember the plan!”.

With a grin on his face he drew his daggers and attacked them to the extendable chain on his wrists before pointing the one in his right hand at the humans… “Charge…”

Hundreds of Orcs and Trolls rushed past Dusk blade yelling “Tho Kartosh!”

The leader of the frontal guard, Arms Master Godwyn, ordered his men to take their defensive stances. All of the men raised their shields or swords to parry or block the 1st strike that may be the killing blow.

The attacking army grew larger as it got nearer the roar of stampeding Orcs and Trolls was deafening and weakened the morel of some as they began to quiver with fear as sweat begins to form from their foreheads.

“Rangers ready!” Yelled Arnold Newton, Captain of the Far Sight also known as the Rangers.
The rangers loaded their bows and prepared to fire them towards the swarm of invaders.
“Pyromancers! Prepare to burn the ground! Cryomancers freeze as many as you can!” Calax Riverton ordered from his position atop the wall.

The invaders swiftly gained distance. “Fire!” Both Calax and Arnold yelled to their men.
A rain of arrows, Fireballs and Bolts of Frost rained down upon Anthrax’s forces destroying many. The Orc recruit that informed Duskblade that the invasion was to begin was struck with a Frost Bolt before being shattered to pieces by an incoming arrow. Slowly the ranks began to weaken as did morel.

“Cut off their advance!” Yelled Godwyn as the clang of metal armour sounded from his men charging forward to engage the enemy in combat. As the Orcs and Trolls met with the Humans face to face steel clashed and blood was drawn from both sides by many means. The arrows and spells continued to rain down upon to invaders but still their numbers stayed strong.

In the midst of the humans was Duskblade relieving humans of much of their unwanted blood. Rushing towards him was a human berserker with a giant two handed sword. Overconfident in his abilities Duskblade made no attempt to move. As the blade was swung viciously down upon Duskblade he vanished and the blade dug into the ground. Out of nowhere Duskblade reappeared running up the sword and he leaps over the berserkers head digging both his daggers into his back ripping two large wounds down from his shoulders. A small group of humans tried to attack him from behind. He grinned as his eyes flashed a deep purple. Blood sprayed from the first human as the other two looked at him in shock. One tried to flee the one that had stayed had little time to follow as Duskblades serrated dagger was already deep within his chest. Quickly dusk threw his dagger at the fleeing foot soldier as the chain it was attached to extend. It impacts into his spine. The soldier screams in pain as Duskblade pulled the soldier back towards him. Covered in blood the man clearly couldn’t stay alive much longer. He tore his blade out his back as the man screamed in pain before crushing his skull under the weight of his foot.

The battle raged on for hours the humans numbers began to dwindle but the morel stayed strong as it did for the Orcs and Trolls that is until Sir Sarwen took to the field. With the voice of Sortashnir held high he charged into the fray with two of his best men cutting down many that stood before him tipping the tide into the Humans favour. But it was not just the humans that had more forces. Suddenly from the forest in the east rushed a horde of Orcs and Trolls all yelling “Tho Kartosh!”.

Completely not expecting a flank attack from the Orcs many of the exhausted human soldiers were brutally slaughtered. The attack worked as planned and the arrows began to rain down upon them.

The humans numbers were slowly reducing as many were slaughtered or fled from the battle but Sarwen was no quitter and continued to plough through the swarm of enemies until he made it to Duskblade. Duskblade noticed the reduction in human numbers and Sarwen on the field.

“Retreat! Fall back to Rez’Gar!” he commanded. Hundreds of Orcs and Trolls ran from the field of battle leaving nothing but a bloody mess of Orcs, Humans and Trolls alike.

Sarwen turned to the survivors. “Victory is ours! Even with our reduced numbers we still prevail above the Orcs and their Troll slaves!”. “Now I want all the loot you can find from the bodies and all the humans shall be cremated.” Few humans that still had energy remained on the field to loot the dead and some rangers from the wall joined them.

A shadowy figure from the trees watched the humans loot the dead before disappearing.
One of the Soldiers strayed away from the group to loot some Orcs that were shot down. He kneeled down to search some of the bodies. “Nothing agai-…” Something caught his attention upon the bodies. Something had moved. He drew his sword and approached it slowly.
Looking around the soldier saw nothing but dead bodies but remained cautious. Slowly he grew cold and his armour began to ice up. He looked around trying to find anybody nearby, but nobody was.

Suddenly he began to be consumed by shadows that covered his body.

“H-Help!” he screamed in terror but it was too late the shadow had covered his entire body and in one movement crushed every bone in his body by pulling him downwards to the floor with great force and all that remained was dust and crumpled armour. The pool of shadows began to shrink and appearing from it was a hooded cultist looking man covered in black cloths and on his shoulders were skulls with eyes that glowed green. Step by step he made his way through the dead corpses towards the front gate of Seshir.

“Intruder! Attack!” Yelled one of the soldiers as all that were there rushed the figure.

It stopped and raised its hand. A pulse of energy fired from the figure as all the soldiers fell to their knees clenching onto their heads. Few yelling “Make it stop!” others just yelling in pain. Slowly the figure twisted his hand to face his palm upward then clenched his fist. Those screaming in pain fell to the floor lifelessly before turning into a black gas and being drawn towards the figure. Step by step he approached the front gate.

“Halt! Intruder!” Yelled Sir Sarwen as he dropped from the ramparts rolling upon landing and drawing his sword ready to fight.

“What and who are you fiend!” Sarwen ordered.

The figure lowered his hood to reveal an elven character with long red hair. “I am your Demise… Sarwen!”

Chapter 9: Myth becomes Legend

The sun raised high in the sky and beamed down upon the field littered with dead bodies. Close to the front gate of Seshir stood the two fearful fighters. Sir Sarwen, champion of Seshir and advisor to the queen, stood with his vicious gaze bearing down upon the warlock. The warlock showed no signs of fear and slowly walked closer to Sarwen all the corpses of the fallen were absorbed into the warlock as he gets closer to them and no trace of their existence remained. Suddenly the warlock stopped and stared at Sarwen. Silence filled the air; the birds stooped tweeting the trees stopped rustling every source of noise was silenced by some force.

Sarwen’s grip on the hilt of the Voice of Sortashnir tightened the closer the warlock got.
“You are no Orc! What do you play in this war?!” Sarwen yelled at the Warlock.

A grin slowly formed on the mouth of the Warlock. “I play a most vital role, Dear Sarwen, and when the time comes WE shall return and we shall destroy you all…”

With tremendous speed Sarwen rushed towards the Warlock blade ready to strike deep into the flesh of him. The warlock held his ground. Swinging his blade downward at the Warlock Sarwen could taste victory… but that was short lived. Inches before his blade impaled into the warlock he was tossed aside by a magical force.

The warlock looked down upon Sarwen. “I know what you really are and you will not be defeating me like that.” Followed up with an evil laugh.

Sarwen was not the kind of person to take taunts and pulled himself to his feet once again charging straight at the warlock.

His grin turned to a frown and grunts at Sarwen most displeased.

Once more Sarwen swing his blade downward with all his strength and impacted brutally on a wall of fire that the Warlock had summoned. Sarwen looked at the protective wall with shock. Tilting his head the warlocks grin reappeared.

The warlock waved “Ralshar”. The wall of fire exploded firing Sarwen backwards. He hit the ground hard and rolled head over heels before stopping and sliding across the field.

Slightly weakened he hauled himself off the ground and readied his blade once more.

“Face it you cannot beat me in that.” The warlock said followed by a cocky laugh.

“Then I shall end you swiftly, Fool” Replied Sarwen.

Placing his blade in front of him pointing towards the sky he closed his eyes and bowed his head. Slowly he began to glow bright white and a loud ringing noise echoed from his form. Opening his eyes Sarwen looked to the sky. Twisting his blade quickly to face the blade towards him the build-up of power explodes. Dust and mud was thrown from the explosion. The warlock shields himself from the explosion by putting his arm in front of his eyes.
Slowly the dust begins to settle and standing in the crater that is now present is a large human looking creature wielding two blades too large to be made for any human. Covered from head to toe in thick white and gold armour.

Jumping out of the crater it towered above the Warlock. “I am Sortashnir, God of War!”
Looking up at him the Warlock grinned once more. “Well what are you waiting for? Come at me!”

Without hesitation Sortashnir swing his blade, the voice of Sortashnir, up from the floor attempting to throw him up into the air.

The warlock stepped backwards avoiding the strike. But did not see the follow up of a downwards strike from the blade in his off-hand, the hand of Sortashnir, attempting to dodge but was cut severely on the chest. Purple blood oozed from the wound.

Exploiting the loss of the warlocks guard Sortashnir rushed at him striking him three times swiftly sending the Warlock sliding across the floor. Four giant sword wounds cover his chest as all of them ooze large amounts of purple blood.

The Warlock laughed. “My turn…”

Sortashnir was confused and held up his guard.

Slowly the warlock formed into a jet black statue. It remained still and did not move. Suddenly it explodes into pieces and emerging from it stood a grey skinned creature with visible purple veins. Now about the same height as Sortashnir. Opening his mouth to speak his razor sharp spikes pierced through his gums.

“I am Haltar, Demon Lord of Fear!” it hissed followed up by spitting acid at Sortashnir.
Covering his eyes the Acid impacts on Sortashnir as it slowly burns away at his armour. Retaliating he throws The Hand of Sortashnir at Haltar placing both hands on The Voice of Sortashnir rushing towards him “By holy energies be purged!”

Haltar ducks dodging the flying blade and rushes at Sortashnir. “Shadow shall consume you…”

Sortashnir strikes at Haltar but his agility is far superior and he leaps over his head and begins to devour his armour. Sortashnir shakes around desperately trying to remove Haltar from his back but he jumps back over his head turns to him and a deafening scream sounds from his huge mouth.

Covering his ears with his hands Sortashnir is defenceless. Haltar rushes in and tears at his armour with his vicious claws before bouncing back to where he was hissing at him.
Weakened Sortashnir stumbles backwards. Falling to one knee he assumes a prayer position. “Helmeth, God of Life, Aid me in my time of need”. Slowly Sortashnir’s wounds begin to heal over and his damaged armour repairing.

Remaining in the position he continues. “Ashentar, God of Protection, grant me your strength”. The blade of The Voice and Hand of Sortashnir slowly become enveloped in flames. Pulling himself up he grabs The Voice of Sortashnir.

“For the freedom of Zerot, I shall end you.” He said while drawing The Hand of Sortashnir back from afar.

Haltar bursts into manic laughter. “Don’t get ahead of yourself!”

“I’m not” Sortashnir replied slicing through the air with both his blades. Large Balls of fire head towards Haltar at tremendous speed as they impact turn a large portion of the area into ash.

Screaming in pain Haltar dashes off at high speed into the nearby forest.

Sortashnir sheathes his blades. “I pray that this is not what I think it is…”