The War Raven cavalry smashed into the front ranks of the horde. The weight of the mercenary heavy horse crushed the gnolls, as armored hooves and sharpened lances broke their mob formation. While gnolls were quite formidable one on one and in skirmish type battles, they fared poorly when faced with an organized and disciplined foe. The gnolls that weren't trampled began to run from their seemingly invincible opponents, and were in turn cut down by the horsemen as they attempted to flee. For a moment a ripple of fear spread throughout the horde.

That moment quickly passed.

The rest of the gnolls surged towards the cavalry, now mired in corpses, cutting down any of their fleeing fellows that got in their way, while packs of hyenadon riders cut off the horsemen's escape. The War Raven heavy horse fought savagely cutting down this next rank of attackers, but another rank soon replaced the fallen. The mercenaries were well armored, armed to the teeth, and maintained their discipline, but the seemingly unending number of gnolls soon bore them down with their vast numbers. Even the fierce warriors of the War Ravens were no match for the endless horde.

As the one sided battle bore on, a particularly fierce band of cavalry men rallied in the center of the battlefield. Though dismounted, roughly forty War Ravens fought back to back and managed to throw off any attackers, be it gnoll or demons. Even fire balls and lightning tossed into their ranks did not break them, instead they appeared to kill more gnolls still engaged with them in melee than anything else. Bodies began to pile around these warriors and soon they battled on a grisly but slippery mountain of corpses.

The plight of these warriors was hopeless but they seemed intent to sell their lives dearly. They slew a hundred to the left of them, and a hundred to the right. They thought it not too many.

Wave after wave of gnolls crash into these champions but these warriors threw them off. Suddenly a section of the beleaguered warriors broke ranks and fell prostate in surrender. The gnolls seized the break in their line and poured into this breach. The savagery of the gnolls soon overwhelmed the remaining survivors, and the battle abruptly ended.

"I…Lieutenant Inutile, surrender to the horde," blubbered one of the warriors that surrendered. The gnolls simply cackled in their trademark laughter and chopped his head off. There would be no survivors today.


"500 cavalry?" asked Reaver in disbelief.

Captain Calla nodded. "Closer to 300 actual cavalry, the rest just stole horses. They fled in the evening. Overpowered the guards, plundered as much supplies as they could, and attempted to flee back east. "

"Traitors, deserters! Those idiots. Don't they know the horde cut our escape off in that direction already," he sighed. "They pulled their forces sieging Mammoth Keep to block us."

Calla nodded again. "I think they were aware of that. They probably thought there was a chance to slip past them and were willing to risk battling the gnolls than….."

Reaver waited for her to continue but the busty elf remained silent. He scowled, Darwen would of told him straight up her thoughts.

"They think you're nuts," interrupted Sir Rollo at last. Reaver flashed his double an angry glare, but the old man simply dismissed it with a bored wave. " They followed you half way around the world, away from the safety of Grom City. They fought armies of Infernals, gnolls, and ghouls, just for the chance of making a stand against the gnolls in the mountains of Nazag Narg. Just as they almost reach the target, you order them to dig in to harass the main gnoll army sieging Khazag Narg. Which I might say is literally poking the hornest nest with a stick. Now, instead of finishing off the last leg of your epic march, you turn south to the haunted wastelands of Ironwolf glacier instead of punching your way through the western flanking forces the gnoll has thrown in your path. Now, most of your boys didn't grow up north like you and I did, but I'm sure they all heard the rumors. The Armageddon Engine lives there. "

Reaver furrowed his brow at the old man. He wasn't a member of the War Ravens but he was under his employ. He should have known when to hold his tongue.

"He's …he's right sir," squeaked Calla nervously. "The men are panicked by your decision to head south. Our opportunity to head west has gone and they would rather dig in and fight here than continue on your path. Even striking out east with the deserters seemed like a better plan than yours, but they stuck with you due to their loyalty to you.

"Loyalty that's about to be tested," sighed Reaver as he recalled his abandonment of Frank.

"I know explaining your plans isn't your thing," commented Rollo, "but maybe if you shared a sliver of your military genius with the rest of us we can help calm the troops. We are literally being chased by a fire over a cliff right now, and your soldiers need to know you have some master stroke to save them."

Reaver reflected on his statement. What was he supposed to say? That this entire march was spurred on not for his belief in freedom and vengeance against the gnolls, but because he was infuriated that some alternate timeline version of himself had succeeded where he failed? Could he explain to his loyal soldiers that had fought and bled so much for him, that this had been spurred on by an enormous ego trip? Also, he knew there was a chance to punch their way west when the enemy abandoned their Leeha campaign, but that meant sacrificing a quarter of his army as a screen. Or in this case, leaving behind the camp followers as bait. He would have done it without hesitation but Dancer…Tyris told him otherwise. Told him to trust her, and march south. Could he tell his soldiers that? Simply tell them that he is following the advice of an old flame, a woman he hadn't seen in over a hundred years. A woman that had voluntarily locked herself up in a sanitarium till recently and now was serving as some…some …demon hunter's girlfriend.

The thought of that infuriated Reaver. He considered ordering his personal guard to seize that demon hunter and have him flogged in public for the insult, but doubt they could catch him. He heard he was quite slippery to begin with, and given the fact he was under Tyris's protection it would make him hard to catch. It would simply make him look more foolish.

Not that being foolish was new to Reaver. Despite all his wealth, all his power, his entire reputation was built on failure. He never took a contract he wasn't sure he could win, and he always took the easy path to riches. Every moral principal and tenant of decency he swept aside in pursuit of easy money and fame. He was known as the Warlord of Grom, but really he hadn't really won anything significant. just many small insignificant victories. However given enough small wins, people start thinking you were some great tactical genius or something. Even Reaver began to believe his own fame, which is what led to this disastrous situation he was currently in. Surrounded by foes on three sides, and the haunted wastelands of the Ironwolf Glacier south of him, he had no easy choice.

"Reaver….Warlord Reaver? Sir?" asked Calla.

"eh?"

"Oh…I thought you blanked out for a second there," said the magenta haired elf in relief.

"Hey…us old folks call that self-introspection," explained Rollo with a smirk. " Your boss is probably thinking of a brilliant plan to save the day."

Reaver nodded and knew what he had to do. The problem right now was that of morale and he had to motivate his mercenaries to continue to follow him. He pulled out a long sharp knife from his boot sheath. He then rolled up leather sleave, revealing an old wrinkled forearm.

"err…Sir…what are you?" asked Calla as the old Warlord brought the knife towards his arm.

Reaver smiled. "Relax. I'm going to let you two know a secret that no one else knows except Frank."

Rollo and Calla both exchanged nervous glances and nodded, but were not prepared when Reaver sudden slashed his old arm from his wrist down to his bicep.

"Have you gone insane?" declared Rollo. Despite his age, the old man was still fairly strong, stronger than Reaver at least, and he managed to swat the knife away. The old knight than filled his hand with a blue healing energy but Reaver waved him away.

"Listen you two dolts. If I was going to kill myself, it would be in battle against the gnolls, not slitting my arm like a cowardly quitter. Look, I didn't even cut any major arteries," he explained as he held up his bloody arm. He then reached into a fold of skin and retrieved a small impossibly flat object.

Calla and Rollo watched in fascination as he began to unfold this flat object on his war desk, till it resembled an oval. Except this oval appeared to have a hole in it, which extended into the desk, but not through it.

"A portable hole? You want us to all crawl into it and escape?" snorted Rollo.

Reaver shook his head and tossed the strange object towards Calla. "It's my emergency stash. Something I set aside besides my treasury in my keep. My 'I quit' loot I guess you might call it. Anyways, I can't motivate the men to follow me with a speech about justice or our honor, but I can get them to fight for something better. Money. Nothing tugs a mercenaries' heart strings than cold hard gold. Give them half now, and promise them half when we reign victorious."

Calla's hand shook but she nodded at the command. Rollo however shook his head," That'll buy peace in your army for maybe a week at tops. They won't care about money when the gnolls are breathing down our backs and begin tearing off chunks from your flanks."

Reaver shrugged. "I won't need a week. This will be long over by then. "

Rollo studied the Warlord's face, and couldn't tell if in the end they will be raising their hands in victory or be crushed in defeat.


Surry fell hard on her side but quickly scrambled to her feet. She was in a large tent, with about half a dozen griffons staring at her intently. The beasts were all saddled and prepared to fly. Besides the great lion eagle hybrids, she saw her half sister Hush, and a fiendish version of Halvor. Behind them was a woman with red armor and black gauntlets, a shorter man with odd light clothing, and a statuesque woman with a great dark mane of hair and stylized armor that indicated high nobility.

"Hey Ella , Carter! I never thought I'd see you two again!" exclaimed Frank as he cleared the portal,"Wait….who do we have here…a barbarian princess I'm not familiar with?" he said while staring at the tall princess behind them.

"We have no time for this," snarled the princess as she brushed off his attentions. "My soothsayers will foil their magics as long as they can, but I doubt Champion Brita will be fooled for long. We must leave this camp immediately."

"Wait a sec! " declared Surry. She channeled some of her energy into her eyes and voice and a visible wave of force pulsated out from her, visibility pushing all in its path. "What's going on here!"

The princess went for her weapon, a great morningstar, but the woman named Ella held her back with a wave of her black gauntlet. The woman walked up to Surry and bowed. "Our time is short lady Surry, but you are owed an explanation. I am Ella Custeinson, knight commander of the Order of the Husky, and a dimensional traveller like yourself. Infact, I believe we both originate from the same world. We both know a proper naming system has yet been universally accepted but it is the unique world that has the destined one known as the Warmaster. Several months ago, my companion Carter, and I were inadvertently thrown in this dimension. It appeared that great forces on what I believe originating from our dimension had ripped several interdimensional and chronological rifts in the cosmology known as the great wheel. While I believe we are from the same world, it is my belief that we are from a different time, specifically I am from a time roughly a hundred years from where you were pulled from. "

Surry was taken aback by not only this woman's knowledge of the events but her familiarity with her. She wondered if she was somehow famous in the future, or perhaps she knows this Ella person from the future.

"As you know, travellers from alternate dimensions and timelines have a negative effect on their new environments, sometimes resulting in catastrophic planar collapse, but most travellers like know this and keep their impact to a minimum. However, something has changed. Something has arrived in this world that is changing and steering its course in a magnitude that I cannot imagine. It's not just a mere desire to bring about change, but a seemingly overzealous will for chaos matched with unspeakable power to follow through its command. Princess Lionsong's soothsayers have detected this world slowly plunging to Armageddon, but as you know it's hard to warn people about something they have no knowledge of. Though they were powerless to warn their own people, they did manage to contact us. "

"As soothsayer's and oracles their visions are always true, but the matter of their interpretations are often unclear. They led my companion and myself to Lady Sharliss and Halvor, and they in turn led us to Sir Franksada."

Frank beamed at being mentioned and pointed to himself proudly.

"and…his presence brought us to you," said Ella coldly.

"Wait…" interrupted Surry. " You think this is because of me? You think I am the cause of this impending doom? You think me playing house with Erland is this great catastrophe you mention?"

Ella considered her statement then slumped her shoulders. "It did cross my mind. Your sister has described your magic as earth shattering and often referred to you as 'power incarnate', but upon further reflection I doubt you are the cause of this. I have no doubt you can destroy a city or even a country, but a world? "

Surry turned to Hush at the mention of sister, which in turn did not seem to react to the word. The archmage guessed that this version of his half sister was from this dimension and not her own.

"Before we flee from Brita's wrath, I was hoping you might shed some light on what has brought you here. The oracles' visions have led us to you, and I believe you will lead us to the true source of this approaching doom."

Surry considered her words. "When I arrived here, I think I might have set father…err Reaver on a path that he didn't intend. I haven't really paid attention to politics, but since that time he has defeated several of Yeenoghu's chief generals and their armies. "

"Armies are made of men, no matter how much blood is spilt it will not tear the mountains apart or drain the oceans," said Lionsong. "Reaver's progress have been tracked, but in the end they will be doomed. Already the gnoll horde has trapped him and drive him towards Ironwolf Glacier. They will crush him within a few days. At best, his actions will buy the north a few years, but nothing lasting beyond that."

Sharliss and Halvor seemed to shrink at the far reaching events described by the three women, but Frank seemed to grin wider.

"Hey! Don't count Reaver out yet. Mah boy Reaver is planning something crazy, something crazy enough that'll work I say. Everyone knows that Ironwolf Glacier is cursed, but few peeps know that true terror that lives there. I was just a boy, but I saw the doom that lives underneath the ice, I saw the Shadow of the Squirrel."

"A squirrel? Are you on your meds again Frank?" asked the man named Carter , even as Surry shuddered at the thought.

"Even if Reaver could somehow awaken the Great Squirrel, it would most likely rampage through his own troops as much as the enemies. No one can control that beast, or that of the other spawn of Rovagug," explained Surry.

"What's a spawn of Rovawhat?" asked Frank.

"Great beasts place on the world at its creation as a form of punishment from the caged god Rovagug. The Great Squirrel being the chief calamity, but there are others such as the Midgard serpent, or Xotanni the great low worm. Fortunately these beasts remain in torpor or a great sleep most of the time, but when they awake they literally crush mountains, drink lakes, drain oceans. They are like a manifestation of armagg….." trailed Surry.

Ella shuddered but her confidence soon returned. "It's just a coincidence. No one in history can wake a beast of Rovagug. They wake when they want to, or when they are hungry. At best Reaver can lure the monster long enough to see it devour him. "

Surry shook her head. "That's not completely true. My other half sister Fyrisvellir, managed to command one briefly. Luckily she's not in this world. I don't think any other person can do such a feat," she explained. "Well…maybe her mother Tyris," she added.

Frank paused,"Oh….Now that you bring it up. Did I happen to mention that my coworker Darwen recruited Tyris from a mental institution recently? What are the chances right?"