Prologue

"Either from this world or another, it does not matter!" Roared the
towering general, his double-edged axe raised to the pouring sea of
faces. Pikes, swords and steel alike were raised from their great
leader's motion. The sound of a soldier's prowess was echoed with a
wave of war-tainted metal. "We will drive them back to the hell they
came from!!!"

The general turned, like a lion that had missed it's prey from a pounce, sprawling forward to face the battlefield of both black and green obscenities. His men trailed behind him like a giant shadow, following him into the valley of Orcish-fiends. Their war cries sang wildly like hunger driven animals. They looked fresh for battle, as if anticipating this moment that laid before them all their lives. The green horde that stood opposite of them looked anything but fresh. Jagged teeth drenched with saliva, clattered through wisps of breath present through the cold air as their eyes orbed an eerie crimson. No particular defense position was presented, they simply awaited the oncoming army only with their gruesome features. The opposing armies were nearly 20 feet away from each other, the great general grinned as he shouldered his axe, eyeing on his first line of victims. Despite the adrenaline rush of his troops, those behind him saw the axe mounted in his trademark position and moved around the great giant. The lieutenants and sergeants that were in frontline fought alongside him in countless times against man and beast. Once his axe was mounted on his shoulder, those around him would have to fend off the power of a whirling cleaver and a fearless heart. Green clashed abruptly with silver, bronze and gold. Chatters of blade against blade, blade against armor and flesh symphonized with the screams and shouts through a million throats. The general's eyes bore no crimson, but crinkled with his arching brows and a wrinkled face that contorted with rage, matching the fearsome looks of the enemy. He gallantly stomped onward, startling the ugly brutes themselves. His men along side him had already clashed with the beasts, and now it was his turn to deal his farewell to the monsters. Like a baseball swing from an ogre, his axe flung four Orcs backward as their bodies soared like green comets, crashing into their own Orc brethren. Those that were struck by the flying bodies were trampled instantly by the next wave of Orcs whom were now sprouting forth, jaws outstretched to reveal their jagged fangs and roaring lungs.

Odd, pondered the general as his axe dove into the face of an unfortunate beast. Their frontlines gave no defense.no pikes raised or even arms prepared for our assault. Could they really be that idiotic? The giant laughed at the thought as he slammed his foot on the Orc's shoulder to force out the axe that was still stuck to it's distorted face. The will of the Orcs was overestimated as the humans stormed through the greenish black, an occasional litter of human lay rested on the ground, but no more than the fiends.

Surely they would put up more of a better fight than this, The general continued his pondering as his onslaught destroyed one Orc after the next, Their rough skin, bulky bodies.they're like midget ogres, it would seem likely that they would overthrow us with their strength.this does not feel right. Though this was the first encounter of the breed for the general's army, it was expected for the invaders to put up more of a fight. This was not right at all. From what first looked like an effortless attempt to back away the humans now looked more like suicide. The spears and axes the beasts wielded were dropped to the grassy floors as they lunged forward to meet the blades of their enemies. The humans gave no time to question their actions, but simply took advantage of it. They advanced through the Orcish forces within minutes, trampling the brutes with their boosted morale. The horde was cut down within an hour's time of fighting, not one Orc had the chance for retreat. The field was tainted with death, but alas stood the general, hunched over a pile of bodies, both hands held onto his precious tool of death, exasperated from the task at hand.

Cheers from his army spread across the field like wild fire. Some were showered with blood but the glint of their teeth flashed a rejoice of victory.

WE HAVE WON THIS!!! Yelled several soldiers across.

The general straightened his position and turned to his men, two golden crested eyes darted around the parading mass. Stabbing the butt of his axe into the earth, he took off his gold plated helmet that matched the scheme of his armor, brown fur cape shifting with the sudden winds. Though the taint of battle had resided on his armor, it still shimmered with awe.

Now unconcealed, his clean-shaven head gave out to the crowd, but with the blink of his rich colored eyes he shuddered, dropping his helmet with his hands before him as if trying to reach out to his men. He fell to one knee, a pain had surged him deeply. At first he thought it was a wound, his hands scurrying along his chest, arms, legs to find the wash of his own blood bathed upon his hands. He found none. Instead he was introduced to a tormenting pain that shrieked his mind. His eyes gave out a flustering look, blurring about as everything around him swirled, yet despite the nausea, he cried out to the world, deceived by his eyes.

NOOO!!! MY MEN!!!! Whether he had yelled these words or not, it was undetermined. His ears gave out, but his eyes had not. Despite the blurry opaque of his vision he could still make out his army whom too joined him on their knees. Bodies that littered the grounds were now pulling them to the floors. Some of the Orcs were mauling their jagged teeth into the human flesh, forcing them to join the death.

What has happened?! How can this be?? There is no spell caster in sight, The general muffled trying to break from this constricting pain.

The victory-filled army was now fighting for their lives, batting away Orc and even human that was supposedly dead from the great battle. Their screams were as horrid as the sight. Limbs were being torn, bitten into. Men tried to pry them away with weapons, but no stab or slice made them falter, in fact it made them more determined to bring them down.

And then the golden-eyed warrior saw it. From the distances past the struggle between the dead and the living glowed a red aura, a false sun that was dawning around a particular figure. From the distance it looked like an Elven, tall with elongated features but its skin tone was black like the night. It bore white markings of some kind of spell ward with a staff that had the skulls of what looked like an Orc, human, and even dragon.

The figure raised the sis kabob staff of skulls and muttered a language that none have ever heard of. Even with the massive land spread between that and the general, its words were loud and clear to him. They were hammering into his mind, trying to speak to him but the language was foreign.

Suddenly, as the words spoken from the creature dyed down, a flashing red light dimmed all over. The giant axe wielder blocked the blazing light with his arm, closing his eyes from the blinding sharpness of the light. It felt like time had stopped. As soon as he lowered his arm, he saw that the fight from his men had ceased. The creature from the farthest sight was now in plain vision, revealing himself to be even taller than the General.

"Blasted spell caster!" The general growled, grabbing his axe out from the earth, raising it in preparation to cut this thing down to size. The dark mage gave no response, it simply blinked at the great warrior, taunting him with it s yellow eyes. Draped with a brown cloak, its naked arms were crossed to reveal the white markings. It glanced at its staff that was now mounted on the ground next to it, signifying a sign of mockery to the General when he did the same act with his weapon when he thought he had victory in his grasp. The Golden Warrior gave no attention to it, instead he lunged forward, preparing to swipe at the spell caster's midsection. The mage grinned, showing it's fangs along the edges of it's mouth, the yellow eyes began sparkling with lighting as the creature closed them briefly, opening them with a blinding stare as if the sun was dormant in it's head. Axe still in place, the General still purged forward, pulling his arms back to give out all his strength to this deathblow. He didn't get the chance. Standing stationary with his arms still at his side with the axe, he struggled but alas gave up.

"Foolish rust of gold," The creature finally spoke, it's voice raspy like a soar throat "I would have expected the great Gildeon Omarkei to be more of a tactician than a brute. You're no different from the Orcs."

"Who are you foul creature!?" Gildeon snarled at the Mage, "You curse my name with your putrid lips!"

"You're a curse yourself Gildeon." Laughed the dark one, turning his back on him with confidence as he stared at the fleshed statues of human and Orc

".And I as well."

He took his eyes off the mage and looked about into the valley of stillness.

"What have you done to my people!!? What.who are you working for!!?"

So many questions poured into his mind, but his patience was thin. His demand for an answer roared in his words like his life depended on it.

"I work as a drifter. Those that have called me into service are ones you so fight."

Gildeon glanced at the Orcs before he glared at the Mage. Bodies still motionless, but their faces gave an expression of sorrow.

"Tactician." Gildeon spat, "You're an dishonorable monster to use suicide as your weapon!"

"Hah! I give honor to none.I simply used their useless lives as a ploy to throw you off.and it worked, mighty warrior of the axe."

Gildeon sighed, closing his eyes away from this disgust. "Why then.why use your spells to stop your 'victory' and exchange words with me foul creature? Rid me of this Earth already.for the fall of my people I have caused"

For a moment the mage almost looked compassionate, but his words stroked with venom.

"Apparently the Horde has other uses for you."