As the day neared its end, the silithid reavers had made it to Victor's point and beyond. They had crushed any resistance or outpost easily with their sheer numbers.
Several attempts by the twilight cultists to ambush at keypoints along the way to the Bastion had proved futile and downright insane. The mighty swarm acted as though it was one enormous entity, viciously decimating any resistance with it's claws and poison.
Among it's victims were even a few black drakes, who had had the bravery to aussault the invading force from the skys. They had met their fate swiftly through the paralyzing stings of hundreds of silithid wasps, tasked with the protection of their brethren below. As Roth's army advanced further, he examined the damage they had already caused. Hundreds of corpses, humans, orcs and elves alike, decorated the once beautiful meadows, some stripped to bones by his hungry servants, others untouched except for the dozens of tiny eggs laid within. He would make the twilight highlands another breeding ground - he thought to himself - but first he had to eradicate the weakened opposition.
The silithids arranged themselves several hundred feet away, in a crescent shape around the Bastion.
The Cultists failed attempts to sabotage Roth's advance had forced the scattered forces to unite with the mainforce already stationed there. Here they would make their last stand, to defend the future of the twilight dragonflight. Black and Twilight dragons alike sat atop the Bastion. Their reptilian faces glared down on the huge insects who dared to assault their refuge. The dragon's Eyes glowing with eager to start the inevitable massacre, mirrored the corruption that had grabbed hold of them thousands of years ago perfectly. The ominous whispers that permeated the air orderd them to attack without mercy, to enjoy the frenzied orgy of violence which was about to ensue.
At the frontline of his forces Roth stood tall, examining the Bastion's defenders with a look one might regard a parasite in ones home with. He could see the countless men and women, who had been driven insane or seduced to serve the ancient ones who lay chained beneath this world. They wished for an apocalypse, for which he did not blame them, instead he was disgusted by their subservience with which they carried out their dark masters every wish. They were oblivious to the mass delusion they had been subjected to by others or, even worse, by themselves.
The adolescent man's grim demeanor changed to a slightly amused one. He was going to enjoy this, as much as he could.
A tense silence had overcome the opposing armies. Suddenly footsteps could be heard. Faint at first, but growing louder, ever so slightly. Some of the cultists started to look at each other worriedly. As the sound subsided an enormous shadow appeared at the Bastions Top. Roth, who had waited bored, lifted now his head to look at the bizzare creatures that had graced him with their presence. He could make out an Ettin, watching him with empty eyes, barely showing any intelligence. He was clad in a filthy, spiked metal armor, a red loincloth covering his shame and a malevolent staff in his right hand. Next to him assembled were four humanoid Elementals, who in contrast seemed betrayed not the slightest hint of foolishness. Two immense Dragons had leapt from the platform into the air, and circulated around bickering with one another, while powerful wing beats kept them aloft. Their bodies were cowered in thick Byzantine and purple scales, shimmering with an orange hue, created by the setting sun.
Amidst all of them was a hulking Creature, two headed with mutated eyes covering his skin.
Cho'gall stood proud with his champions, ready to defend the Twilight Hammer's Headquarters.
Cho'gall's right head turned to Roth and studied him intensly. „Beautiful" he finally exclaimed, his eyes still glued to the boy. „We had thought you had been a failure, a fruitless effort by our masters which had left them more exhausted than before, but it seems we have been proven wrong."
Cho'gall or Cho to be precise, had a toothy grin on his face. „Come then Goth'roth, show your fathers your true form, let them celebrate your awakening, and welcome you home as you set them free from the accursed Titan's bondage!" His left head jerked around, yelling incoherent sentences.
„The dead one rises again, he has broken the Cycle! Oh the terrible mirrage, he cannot see, he cannot hear! Unholy star formation, blood is the currency, F'nakhr ugh'r'yheh liung'ngu a'Phtak'lu!
The woods, the bodies are buried there, young mother run, run! It has no mercy, cacophony of screams, squeal, squeal louder, The air stinks of sex, ammonia and fish, it is hunting across the raped land! Wasteland! He cannot help, not anymore, The young gods heart is black ice"
