Reviews:

Guest 1:

It is kind of Reminiscent, but it also plays with the meta of the WoW storyline since Sargeras and the four Old Gods were basically the absolute badguys and Blizzard had to pull a new villain from nowhere after killing them. Everything at this particular point in Warcraft's timeline could basically be blamed in Sargeras or the Old Gods taking advantage of Sargeras' actions.

Guest 2:

Yes but also think of it this way, they have to distinguish themselves from the Alliance and they can take advantage of the fact that void elves are just high elves with a different eye color to play chaos in other ways.

and "correct me if I'm wrong" yes/no Blizzard's lack of a sense of scale makes GW look like the meticulous historian who recorded every individual round fired at Omaha Beach and the life and actions of every individual soldier. The people of Azeroth aren't entirely unaccustomed to fighting a numerically superior force, but they are unaccustomed to one that doesn't needlessly hamstring itself, intentionally put forward a weak front, or rely on a gimmick game mechanic to be effective and otherwise is easy to defeat. In other words they haven't had to deal with Warhammer Necromancers, Orks or Skaven. They've just dealth with a Scourge that attempted a risky and debatably stupid ploy, and bugs that were intent on seeing their weakest die off to try and force a sort of evolution.

Guest 3:

I'm debating early or mid reign. While I like the End Times and AoS model lines, the rules and lore for both disgust me in how uninspired and cheap they've been. Particularly since a fan made 9th ed for Fantasy fixed many of the rules issues, while still having plenty of it's own, but really showcased that it's the scale and models that were the issue and not the rules, lore and game itself. As for the Paladin's I've been giving them a slight pass since the power of the Naaru and Sunlight seem to apparently seem to be equivalent to eachother. And that Bombshell, you know someone's going to end up dropping it, if not the Horde then the Alliance will.

Guest 4:

There's a bit of a difference between the Warhammer legendary weapons and the Warcraft ones. Its a little bit of a disservice to claim this, but Arthas really was nothing without Frostmourne, and well the Lich-King is litterally a suit of armor. And likewise a lot of Warcraft's Legendary weapons are powerful and dangerous almost regardless of who is wielding them.

An interesting point on this being the sword Shalamayne which was once two famous old Night Elf blades but neither all that overpowered, but it was Varian who made the blades into the sword they are now, and they require the right person otherwise they are powerless, and this more than most the other Legendary weapons makes that sword distinct. Likewise the Runefangs and Ghal Maraz are powerful, but it's the person weilding them, and sometimes the opponent, that really makes these weapons a item worthy of Legend. Again contrasting with Arthas being a incompetent arrogant Noble who got rejected by the Light but then becoming an absolute powerhouse thanks to a single blade.

Another way to describe this difference would to be to put Lich-King Arthas without Frostmourne or the Helm of Domination against Archeon without all of his trappings of being the Everchoosen, who would win? Anyone who knows Archeon and knows that Arthas was rejected by the Light knows that Archeon would mop the floor using Arthas' face after the battle. Mechanically basically the Azeroth weapons would be better since they are far less situational, but if you get the right guy with the right gear, well then Miracles start happening. And to be Honest Archeon is just straight a terrifying beast, "Yeah that should have killed a army...too bad you melted the extra bits on my armor I really liked the Chaos star made out of jimmie's bones, time for me to supplex a dragon."

Guest 6:

pop* noice.

Guest 7:

It's all in how you use it. Just ask the British when they were first trying to figure out the whole Colony game, they went from laughing stock to "the sun never sets".

Guest 8:

Wish I could pin that comment so anyone looking at the comments on that chapter could see it first. And it's honestly a bit sad that WoW doesn't provide many "unique" units that aren't just the typical NPC with a different level and name, and I had high hopes that reforged would have at least caused modders or Blizzard to make a fantasy version of the Starcraft Coop game mode. Would have provided more of a diversity for Warcraft world and given Blizzard more stuff to use to beat their dead horse with since they can't figure out how to write a half decent plot without first running what was there before into the ground with a idiotic attempt at DBZ escalation.

Ironwall:

They're all give and take, no one claims the Darklands so the Horde could try setting up a colony state there, where i doubt the Empire would tolerate people taking much their land, even if it's connected to a city they thought they leveled to the ground already. And I'm debating. Mallus is actually bigger than earth I can't remember the exact extent but the visual a friend gave me was "take the circumfrance of the earth in Kilometers, now just switch the word Kilometers for miles." And Azeroth's debatably very small, like the observed area from the game is smaller than new york city, and with lore considerations and guess work puts the whole thing somewhere between the moon and earth in scale, some sayingit's effectively the same size as Mars. So this would lead to some interesting miscommunications concerning travel. But typicallyRiver Travel in the Empire is considered faster, and I found that the river Stir, the river through Mordheim, connects to the Reich River just past the northern Border with Stirland basically giving Mordheim a aquatic straight shot to Altdorf, but in terms of miles the distance to Bechafen would be shorter. Might as well try both from a logical standpoint. Still scary to think of what the gravity of the Warhammer world must be like, or how it made to be earth comparable concerning that the world also has far far more metals and such than our earth.

Hakuryuu:

So the two things that I might not have covered. As for Dragon Bro, there still a lot being left out about him so I'm holding back, i mean we know sis's personality a lot better, shes the type to murder innocent scientists who were in the middle of a space race just because the quality of her gun shipments went from best quality to good quality, yet dragon bro is still a little bare on details that we could have fun with.

And as for the Lizardmen, well they've already expressed their absolute opinions on most the Warcraft races. The Great Plan changes for no one.

Oooooops:

Well considering the high horse they sit on, might take them a moment to realize Norscans, Kurgan, etc are actually human and not some Elf-style underdeveloped off shoot.

First Steps

Sylvanas allowed herself to smile, in hours the first Horde representatives would be going through the Alliance's portal, and eventually her agents and spies would follow to spite the Alliance's efforts. But now Her own portal was revealed, and based off the minitrations of Astalor soon the portal will be able to last for most of a day, and eventually remain open permanently. Even if the Alliance Portal was opening larger, the Horde's was far more stable thus far.

If there wasn't a city or powerful state near the Portal, Sylvanas already planned to conquer the lands around the portal to secure it all for the Horde as part of her overall scheme. If there was a town or a weak city state Sylvanas figured the Horde would conquer it easily enough, which should please the more militant members of the Horde.

"Warchief, Warchief! Someone is trying to force their way through the portal!" An panicked sounding messenger warned as he ran towards the Banshee Queen.

"An invader?" The Queen of the Forsaken asked grabbing her bow.

The messenger seem to look on confused for a moment, careful to measure his words before speaking. "Not particularly. We had three members of the Horde trapped on the other side of the portal after the collapse. They returned, but there's a convoy of traders on the other side of the portal. B-but there is a massive creature, it's blocking the portal with it...well with it's stomach and it's demanding food, and to speak with you."

Sylvanas stopped for a moment. "What?"

"Well, I mean it's not calling for you by name or title, but it is demandingour chefs make food and to speak with our...our Tyrant." The messenger stated, sounding almost equally confused.

Sylvanas thus rushed to the portal, the messenger lagging behind. Once at the portal Sylvanas witnessed the situation at the portal. She could see the portal with a large man size mass of flesh partially in the portal and a hand holding a massive pistol. From the other side of the portal a massive voice was bellowing in a language thag Sylvanas could strangely comprehend despite never having heard it before.

"You'll bring me and my kin all the meat, drink and bread you have in there or I will come in and take it all myself! If you want to fight me to keep your thin bellies full then bring me your best tyrant to fight!" The voice challenged.

Sylvanas closed with the portal, and the massive creature who clearly was struggling to find a way through, like a predator stalking potential prey. With every step she measured the being on the other side of the Portal. This creature certainly was as tall as a Ogre and almost as wide as it was tall. However it was also a blunt creature, obviously used to a direct approach but certainly intelligent enough based off the weapon it weilded and the way it was issuing its demands. It could be negotiated with, and probably was still somewhat more intelligent than some of the idiotic leadeds who tended to lurk around the Horde leadership.

Sylvanas walked up closer to the creature until she caught the feintest hint of the creature's eye through the portal. "I am Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, leader of these people. I was told you wish to speak with me."

The creature seemed to analyze Sylvanas for a long moment. "So ya snack, maybe if you open your kitchen my kin and I wont eat you. And if the food is any good we might even give you something worth the time of Kogkradd Kegeater!"

Sylvanas took a moment to digest the creatures crude terms and what it possibly meant with this negotiation even as a new higher pitched voice could be heard behind the creature.

"Hans, Hans get that brute out of that, magical thing now. You told me we were able to do business but that Ogre brute YOU told me to hire is ruining it."

"Really Ye Luoyang, I happen to first not want to be eaten, second that you begged me to find the best possible Ogres to guard your under protected Caravan" Both the voices bickered as Sylvanas mentally translated the "Ogre's" demands.

"So you just want us to feed you and you'll get out of my portal?" Sylvanas asked.

"It's not the most comfortable, but I'm getting my Tribe what we want! So starting pushing munchies down our gullets and give us a good platter, or I'll make a meal out of the lot of you." The large Ogre demanded, now pushing his head through the portal, though it wasn't enough to allow him to actually pass through.

"Are you so low on food that you're starving?" Sylvanas asked genuinely confused as to the creature's demands, particularly with the sound of the voices behind it.

"It's been a whole eight hours since my last meal!" The creature roared enraged.

"Well feed you, now will you move." Sylvanas stated flatly.

"Not till I have a taste. You're a small little snack but you're barring your gut, so either you're feeding me now and you are seeing who can gorge themselves more, or else you and I about to be going 'Guts-Out'." The creature now held a cruel smile and it seemed to be reaching for its belt with it's free hand.

"Whoever you are over there. Do not go 'Guts-out' I don't know if you've ever met a Ogre before but if you don't want to be eaten, do not accept his challenge." The feminine voice on the other side called.

"I already said we will feed you, if you want to see who can eat more, I'll gladly feast with you." Sylvanas replied to both with a smirk. At her side a odd trio of Horde soldiers looked on with shock, the Undead at the lead gaping as Sylvanas sat within arms reach of the creature, as the Orc at his side stuffled laughter and the Elf stared in amazment.

The Ogre contined his cruel smirk, his hand reaching over and feeling up Sylvanas, intent on eating her if food didn't soon arrive. But before the Ogre could become too inpatient Horde chefs began to arrive. Sylvanas gave quick orders to them demanding the food brought as quickly as possible.

"Poison the meals, keep the poison light, enough to sicken, not kill, up the dosage on my signal though." The Undead Queen ordered softly.

Eventually an assortment was laid between the pair, as the Tyrant laughed. "Now appetizer looks rathet light, hopefully it feels good going down."

Sylvanas ignored Kogkradd's taunting. "So how will we go about..."

"We eat!" Kogkradd interrupted, his massive fist already descending on a basket of bread. Immediately the Banshee Queen set about eating as well.

The creature ate with no manners or thought, shoveling food into its mouth, constantly checking on Sylvanas out of the corner of its eye and even boasting through a mouth stuffed with food. All while Sylvanas pretended to eat carefully watching as ever increasing doses of poison were shoved down the creature's throat. Eventually a dose of poison potent enough to put a Naga myrmidon through a excruciating death within minutes had entered the Ogre's body. "Urg Uuuuuurrrrrpppp!"

The Ogre Tyrant stopped eating. "Hmmmmm, the Maw must not be happy, I can feel it trying to pull me in and eat me. Stomach aches a bit too. You're going to need a lot more than what you have here to feed all my tribe. Some of that food had great taste and the way it makes the gut twist and gurgle is great too." Again the Ogre leaned close to Sylvanas with a cruel smile.

"Feed us good like that and I might even give your lot a discount on our services, Feed us better and I might introduce you to Greasus Goldtooth. He might had a deal for you if you have a nice chow with him." With that said the Ogre pulled his girth out from the portal exposing the world and people beyond.

"Did I just see..." The Orc at the side of the room started.

"Shut it Gin." The Undead next to him warned. Sylvanas ignired them, now seeing the other side of the portal.

There on the other side stood two humans, one a bearded individual with a bow and a outfit covered in grass from the hill. The other was a human woman wearing what the Pandarens called a hanfu, in her arms a bundle of scrolls, on her back a travelers pack and a crossbow as well as a large sword on her hip.

"I am Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, and Queen of the Forsaken." Sylvanas introduced herself as she walked through the portal to the other world.

The woman gave a light bow in return. "I am Ye Luoyang, Magister of Cathay and Merchant Lord of this convoy. I come because of and with promises of trade."

"And I would be more than happy to give you trade. However because of this portal we have little clue as to where we are. Provide us a map, bring up your merchants with their wares and giods, and I shall see to it our administrators and own traders are brought from our nearest city on our side of the portal to engage in trade with you, and I will allow you to set the rules of trade. Obviously we will be feeding these Ogres of yoursas you stay." Sylvanas offered simply, a offee met by a enthusiastic acceptance from the other side.

"We find this offer acceptable. I shall even be willing to sell you my own map, in exchange for something of trade from what you have now, if i find it acceptable." The human woman stated in her odd, Mogu-like tounge that Sylvanas could still mysteriously comprehend.

"And what might you find worth this map?" Sylvanas purred to the Merchant Lord.

The Merchant smiled towards the Banshee Queen. "Weapons of note, Gold, perhaps a technology or new crop you can prove the value of?"

Sylvanas smiled pulling a number of arrows from her quiver. "How about some cursed arrows?" The Merchant eyed the dark headed arrows the Queen was presenting.

"And what sort of curse are you speaking of?" The Merchant asked.

"It drains the life-forxe of those struck, and often those who die as a refult of tbese arrows raise as the undead for a short time, effective at disrupting an enemy formation." Sylvanas offeres, however Ye Luoyang appeared repulsed by the arrows.

"Never, I would never be seen using such a weapon, and I doubt I could sell one even to the Jade Vampires even if I could find them." The Merchant Lord explained.

Sylvanas contenplated the response before giving a simple smile to the Merchant. "I had intended to give this to one of my commanders, but perhaps you would accept it." Sylvanas offered as she pulled out a single blade with a Jade gem. The Merchant reached out and took the Short Sword testing the blade, first ensuring the hilt of the blade was secured properly, before then moving up the blade checking to see if the blade was hardened, tempered, and checking the edge. Then the Merchant Lord pulled out a thick stick with wrapping around it and lightly tested the blade against the stick with a series of soft swings using the blade.

"As you can see the blade is well made and lightly encha, often binding those struck in Jade if but for a moment." Sylvanas offered as the Merchant tested the blade. After a moment the Merchant Lord smiled.

"This sword just might be worth at least a copy of my map, I'll have our cartographer make you a copy. It will take him a while, perhaps as long as your own merchants will take to arrive." Ye Luoyang's subtle smile gave away the Merchant's intent to even use this event to drive up the value of her trade by using the presence of Sylvanas, a leader she had only just met, to impose on the Horde's own merchants.

Sylvanas didn't let the human woman have the lead she thought she held and moved around her manipulation like smoke around a blade. "I think it shouldn't be a problem, now if your group will excuse my army, we intend to build a outpost on this hill to secure any future trade, of course."

"Of course."

Once again day broke over the city of Mordheim. Once again Kyn'ra checked her scars, tended to her wounds, and once again set out to see what the Alliance fortifications needed for the day. Besides Aursuun who she didn't know very well, every friend she had in Mordheim was dead, killed by the creature that had nearly killed her.

Her recovery was relatively slow, her wounds were healed but the trauma was crippling. Her own past experience told her that it typically was, even if she at the time was still feeling numb to it all. She wasn't a particularly old Elf but she had seen horrors and battle nonetheless in her two thousand year lifespan, once even serveing under the Wardens, only to witness the worst of their prisoners freed.

As she had spent the last several days either bedridden or serving as an assistant to Tolgar she had slowly learned enough of Reikspiel to prove herself useful and even speak a few odd paragraphs and at least communicate passibly with the Alliance's current resident native.

Tolgar had practically taken over the fort since arriving and Kyn'ra wasn't sure if she resented that or not. Sister Avenah after learning Reikspiel satisfactorily had already negotiated with a mercenary band, offering them a massive sum of gold to take her along the river Stir towards Altdorf the apparent capital of the local Empire. Meanwhile more of the mercenaries and a Night Elf representive were traveling north by road towards Bechafen with the intent on negotiating with the more regional rulers of the land.

That only left Datris Sageclaw to challenge Tolgar's usurping of command, and no one, not even Datris thought that he was mote suited to lead the Alliance's pioneers with how things currently were.

But the petty 'who lead who' questions only impacted Kyn'ra as far as determining if she actually liked the person she was taking orders from. Not necessarily if she thought them competent enough to lead or not. Instead she began walking out towards the field where the pioneers were making their first crops. Along the path she spotted Aursuun standing careful watch. The Paladin gave her a warm welcome and a kind smile, how the Draenei had already processed and moved on from everything that had jusy happened amazed her, and Kyn'ra was grateful that he was around.

"I heard that Datris is using his power to guarantee a sunny day for the crops. Is this true?" Kyn'ra asked taking position next to the Draenei, ready to help wherever she was needed.

"That, and then some. Datris hopes to clear the impurities from the soil. However it appears that the Soil is infected with incredibly tiny shards of Fel-Stone and they at times seem to grow at random. So I'm here to help cleanse the land and heal anyone should things take a unnatural turn." Aursuun explained.

"Sounds...useful."

"It's about all I'm good for honestly. I was never a farmer, and these Fel-stone are far from the crystals I'm used to." Aursuun admitted keeping a keen eye on the fields.

"I've always more been a soldier, I can live off the land, keep watch, defend others, move through the forest quickly, and fight adequately. so thus far you're far more use than I am. I probably would have been going to Bechafen if I hadn't been wounded." Kyn'ra admitted sumerizing her life and skills in a few short sentences.

Kyn'ra looked out to the field as the few druids and farmers living among the pioneers worked on a magically growing crop. She could see them all sweeting in the bright sunlight hard at work. The only relief from the heat they received was as a shadow swept across the field shielding them from the bright sun.

"Is there anywhere where I might be of help?" The Elf asked, but as she turned her head she could see a concerned expression in Aursuun's scarred eye.

With the Draenei's expression immediately Kyn'ra went on alert. "What's the matter?"

"Get the human."

"Why?"

"I said get the human, and bring him here." This time Kyn'ra immediately complied taking off at a sprint for Eike's room. After several minutes struggling to wake and dress the man she eventually brought him to Aursuun.

"Was will der große Kerl? (What does the big guy want?)" The Empire mercenary asked lazily breaking away from Kyn'ra who had rushed him here.

"He wants to know why you..." Kyn'ra began only for Aursuun to start making demands.

"Is there any magic or phenomenon that controls the skies, maybe to even overwhelm another spellcaster's control. Particularly to create a cloud cover."

Kyn'ra took several moments to consider how to translate the questions. "Wie machen dunkle Wolken, aaaah, Magie zu tun? (How make dark clouds, aaaah, use magic to do?)"

Eike winced slightly at Kyn'ra before answering. "Glaubst du, jemand benutzt Magie, um Wolkendecke zu machen? Es gibt ein paar Gruppen, die...können...Scheiße! (You think someone's using magic to make cloud cover? There's a few groups who...can...shit!)"

The sudden realization and panic in the Human's voice put Kyn'ra on edge. "Was? Was ist das? (What? What is it?)"

Eike started rambling, while his shaking hands started to go over various weapons on his person. "Dicke Wolkendecke während des Tages ist oft ein Zeichen für eine ihrer Armeen. (Thick cloud cover during the day often is a sign of one of their armies.)"

"What is he saying Kyn'ra?!" Aursuun now demanded, the Draenei squaring up and looking down on Eike.

"Die Vampire müssen gekommen sein, um ihre eigenen zu rächen."

Kyn'ra froze, her voice monotone as she provides the answer to the Paladin of the light. "The cloud cover is a sign that the Vampires are back, likely with a army."

"Over just a lone vampire? How important was she?"

Abram Turnau stumbled as the boat rocked, planting his staff to keep himself from falling. If he fell, he would surely lose consciousness. Instead Abram called upon his magical reserves to motivate and move his worthless flesh, simple mortal concerns such as sleep were not yet beyond Abram, but eventually he would not ever need to waste his time sleeping again.

Abram moved towards the front of the barge kicking aside the leg of a resting human soldier, it and all it's fellows were no more than an pointless thing that his master insisted that they have. So as Abram labored ceaselessly over the more than a week of travel, stopping at no less than twenty-one towns and villages, three of them were spared the sight of Abram's magic, instead being given gold in exchange for a total of three hundred and twenty men, all armed with swords, bows, crossbows or handguns.

Abram returned to the center of the barge, casting a longing glance to his Master's barge, longing to have the power and immortal grace the Vampire hoarded to himself. Instead while his master hid from the sun, Abram was the one to once again channel the winds of magic to feed new energy unto the ghosts and wights of the river fleet giving new speed to the decrepit vessels.

It had been Abram to labor building his Master's army, emptying the tombs and graveyards of fifteen towns ans villages, and at three unleashing the power of the dead, killing husbands, who then strangled wives, who then helped rip their children's flesh to make new banners for the growing army. Only Abram knew the exact count of dead held in the holds of their fleet, Aleksandr von Carstein hadn't even bothered to leave his dank cabin or even speak to Abram since they began their journey.

Even now with the walls of Mordheim looming ahead on the horizon the Vampire was still hidden away. If Abram could find a better master to take him in he certainly would, Aleksandr gave too much credit to the living, valuing their service, even promising those who had provided soldiers to his service now, his own future protection.

Vampires had natural affinity for the magics of undeath, and unending undead life. And yet Aleksandr was wasting that time when he could learn magics to dwarf even Nagash the first ever Necromancer. Abram once he received his reward of the Vampire's kiss would certainly turn Aleksandr into the joke he is, raise a mighty army and put even the fool Manfred with all his magical power to shame.

"Attend me." A soft, deep voice ordered, snapping Abram from his musings. The Necromancer snapped his attention to his Master's barge, the Vampire was now standing on the deck, his sword drawn and planted. The voice had sounded as though it was next to Abram, yet Aleksandr was yards away. Instead Abram had to channel power to bring the two ships together so Abram could cross over to face his master.

Once aboard Abram bowed to his Vampiric Lord.

"She was the favorite of my concubines, though I never told her. Keeping my affection subtle made her ever more the creature I enjoyed seeing so much." The Vampire stated, holding a small parchment with a rough sketch of the Former Lady Ostrall, the drawing was neither one of beauty nor did it depict the lady poorly.

"She must have tugged at your heart greatly lord." Abram offered.

"She was so weak when I found her. Sickness and a frail body made her dependent on her father, and he thought of her as little more than a political bargaining chip. But I could sense the vicious independence and ambition she had within her. She longed for a man that she could prove herself to, that she could shower with the corpses of her enemies and stolen riches. To compete and be victorious!" Aleksandr ranted his eyes glowing with power and the fleet accelerating.

The Vamprie continued as now foul screaming winds tore at the skies tearing stormclouds from miles away throwing them at Mordheim. "She was free and at her greatest thanks to ME! Her gratitude, was love and devotion! Her every kill a work of artistry, every plaything she dragged screaming home an absolute pleasure, and every new sister a delight we both shared in! She only needes experience and truly she could have been the greatest of us ALL! Someone to reunite the Von Carsteins and reignite the Vampire Wars and finally slaughter the weak decaying Emperor's! And I was going to be there, having made and molded her, suckling on the blood flowing across her breasts!" Aleksandr's roar could just be heard over the howling winds as the fleet sped even faster towards Mordheim.

'Let Aleksandr keep his delusions', thought Abram watching the Vampire abuse his ill trained power. Neither he nor his spawn were anything more than deluded fools who failed to see the absolute inability of the other. Abram was the one to actually do all the work, buildingand maintaining their army, they were just parasitic fools Abram needed until his own power and Immortality could make them unnecessary.

Abram watched as the fleet still closed with Mordheim. "M-my lord, the living mercenaries at the port might not appreciate a fleet of undead in their waters. I fear they might even have cannon to use against us."

"Why do you think we have our own men, hide the spirits, order the men to their posts, the moment those mercenaries are foolish enough to let us close we will add them to our ranks, if they wont accept coin to attack those who killed mine own that is." Aleksandr countered, continuing the fleet forward.

"My Lord the first step of a battle is getting your army there intact. We've raised the army, and brought it here, do you really wish to risk it on faith in the living?" Abram asked, if one of those cannon balls hit his ship he would surely drown in the river having never learned to swim.

"If I ever think the living had lost the capacity to look out for their own self interest and instead serve some misconception of a higher purpose. I'll be sure to kill you first."

Abram understood his master and moved to comply with the order. "Listen up, take posts, we're going to dock soon. Prepare for departure!" The Necromancers high pitched, and horse voice was magically increased to reach all the living soldiers. As the first of the men rushed to their positions on the boats, the first drops of rain fell onto the ships.

Aursuun and Kyn'ra ran through the fortress warning the Alliance of the coming threat. Already the torrent of rain was beging to fall and was already flooding the streets of Mordheim. Many of the Alliance Pioneers showed absolute confusion as Kyn'ra and Aursuun shouted their warnings. It wasn't until Datris Sageclaw returned looking beaten, bruised, and wounded did the truth of the threat begin to show to the Alliance Pioneers.

"Listen, a magic caster is throwing storms at the city, creating a dark rainstorm! I can feel their hostility, the frozen hate in the rain itself. I fear this city, if not us specifically are under attack." The Druid warned the others of the Alliance even as healers tended to him.

Quickly, upon realizing the threat many pioneers began arming themselves. Mages grabbed staves as farmers and craftsmen donned armor, shields and swords. Archers began gathering srockpiles of their arrows, while the priests of the Chruch of the Light began praying while preparing theirs and the Paladins gear.

Observers ran out, intent on checking the city walls and on the other mercenary encampments. As they went searching, the Alliance force arranged their members on the thin simple walls around the mansions. Tolgar inexperienced with battle, publicly deferred to Datris Sageclaw. Datris was not experienced leading a battle either but accepted either way. With the defenses so simple the arrangement of the defenders was simple as well. The mages, archers, and warlocks would guard the walls, while the warriors, priests, and paladins would form a defense just beyond the wall.

On the wall Kyn'ra was joined by the human Eike. he stood there on the top step of the vertical stair on the wall beside Kyn'ra, back against the stability brace that helped all the combatants stand and watch over the wall. In one hand the human had a thin sword, on the other he had a pistol, and a brace of them was strapped to his chest.

"what are you...was machst du hier (what are you doing here)?" Kyn'ra demanded as the human just smiled at her.

"Mal sehen, ich bin der erfahrenste Typ hier, wenn es darum geht, die Untoten zu bekämpfen. Ich habe bereits versucht, meinen Rat anzubieten, aber die Sprachbarriere war ein Schmerz. Wiederhole einfach meine Befehle an diese Idioten." (Let's see, i'm the most veteran guy here when it comes to fighting the Undead. I've already tried to offer my advice but the language barrier has been a pain. Just repeat my orders to these idiots.) The human ordered with a slight laugh in his voice, before panic ridden eyes looked out into the streets.

Old rotted barges sailed towards the port of the Mordheim Ravagers. While certainly not the only group to have set up a port in the city, in fact they had just attempted to raid the docks of their long time rivals the Gentlemen of Gunther just the day before, the Ravagers were perhaps the owners of the largest port in the city thanks to the combination of their connections both in Marienburg and Altdorf, and the some three hundred strong mercenaries often had various bands bringing in more and more goods and had even been called once or twice to serve outside the city attaining glory against Kislevitte Boyar who thought he could cheat the Empire by mining a unused iron mine.

"Hey, Who goes there?" One of the men manning the dock demanded.

"River Patrol! Sir, we had a string of bad luck and need to dock while we determine what to do." A voice, looking like a young soldier on one of the fog shrouded boats answered.

"Prep the cannon." The lead of the dock ordered, and several of his men brought out one of the cannons that was the pride of the company's defense. "Go up river a bit, there's some abandoned docks there i think."

"We'll pay for the services. Like I said we're suffering a string of bad luck, these aren't even our ships, but all we have thanks to a battle with pirates. We intended to sink them, thank Manann we aren't at the bottom of the Stir yet." The young man's voice replied, a few older sounding voices innthe distance grumbled their affirmations.

The old Mercenary captain could sense the potential ruse, but the offer of coin, and the consequences of possibly killing legitimate State Troops commanded his restraint. "Aim the cannon, and keep the lintstock in place, don't fire until after I order it, understand." The Captain ordered softly. "Well then can you show me your Imperial Order?! And that Bag of gold you're promising?!" The man on the boat lifted up a bag that could have been a bag of gold, or a bag of rice for all the captain could tell.

After sighing and feeling freezing rain falling on him the captain turned to the five men under his command. "Damn Fog, and rain!" he grumbles as he started preparing a torch. "If this is Gunther's wizard looking for a bit of revenge send that boat into the drink. I'm going out to check, keep yer eyes on this torch, if it and I fall, fire." The captain ordered. The men at the cannon all nodded, one taking post next to the emergency bell, ready to warn if this really was an attack.

The men watched nervously as their captain walked halfway down the dock where he raised his torch and waved it shouting. "Can you see me?" The men at the Cannon used their hooded lantern to flash back to him at an angle to boat should be able to easily see, signaling that they could indeed still see him, while the man on the Boat shouted an affirmative. "Hold on I'm not yet at the end of the dock."

The Captain continued down the dock. The cannon crew tensed. If this was Gunther's men, they clearly didn't know about the cannon and were in for a terrible surprise, but if this was really the river patrol, money and job offers were guaranteed.

They were ready. The boat slid near silently to the edge of the dock. The men tensed watching the Boat, and a rain of Bolts and Arrows fell on them from up river. The man at the bell took a bolt to the shoulder which caused him to spin in place. "Fire!" the man cried as he heard the sound of several handgun.

However no cannon shot answered his cry. Quickly turning he daw that all four of his companions were either too wounded to comply, or dead. Swiftly he reached up and pulled on the warning bell, starting it ringing before diving to the fallen lintstock and preparing to fire the cannon. He was stopped However as a armored figure loomed over him. The Lintstock was batted out of the man's hand and instead he was raised off his feat by a signle hand lifting him. Next a terrible pain took his throat as the teeth of a animal tore at his throat. Next thing the man knew his face was on the ground and his entire neck ached in pain, but when he went to get up neither his arms or legs responded, then the decapitated man died.

Over the dead man's head, holding his still bleeding body Aleksandr watched lights throughout the mercenary base lit and shouts of alarm began. However it was too late, Wights and Aleksandr's own Grave Guard surged past the vampire empowered by dark magics and moving nearly as quietly as the grave the Wights and Gravw Guard began ambishing the first defenders to come out from their encampment while the living soldiers of the Vampire's army targeted the tower and firing posts of the defenders raining arrows, bolts, and gunshot on any who showed themselves.

Eventually the undead trapped the living inside their buildings where they began setting the buildings on fire, at other points the Dead used Logs as rams and surged through broken doorways slaying small groups of defenders one after another. As his troops besieged the Mordheim Ravagers, Aleksandr moved swiftly findings the points of feircest resistance and most capable defenders killing each to the last one after another.

It took the Vampiric army a little over a hour to slay the last of the defenders in the camp. Of the five hundred members of the Company, two hundred had been in the camp and now they all rose into undeath to serve Aleksandr's dark purpose, and not a single one of the soldiers Aleksandr cared about had fallen.

"We've been exposed my Lord. Scouts have been spotted running from us as you spent time on this slaughter." The annoying voice of Abram spoke, an poorly veiled attempt at criticism masked as advice.

"They already knew we were coming Abram, stealth had not been a option since the sun came up this morning. One of the Wizards of the city attempted to combat my control over the skies as we approached. My magic was not merciful to the fool, however he was far more endurant and skillful in evading my wrath than most his ilk." The Vampire admitted to the self serving human at his side. Next to the victorious Von Carstein Abram balked.

"So they are prepared for us?" He asked simply and with a humble tone. Though Aleksandr knew the Necromancer was now weighing the cost of maintaining the army, the risk these unknowns could possibly pose, and what wrath betrayal would earn from the Vampire Lord.

"Thus we will want strength and speed. I shall move my army faster, You will take a vanguard and begin the seige ahead of me. Failure will earn you my wrath." The Vampire ordered his mortal follower, ending with a threat towards the unfaithful mortal.

Abram scowled, but bowed and then smiled to his master. "Of course my master. I live to serve you." The Necromancer replied, before calling on the winds of magic to accelerate himself away from the Vampire. Already a plan forming in his mind. Abram called upon every one of the living soldiers he could, almost one hundred and sixty of them and gathered a small force only a few hundred of the Undead. 'It would always be better to sacrifice the living than expend my own power needlessly, surely a better use for them than what Aleksandr's patheric compassion for the living would have used them for.' The Necromancer told himself before setting out.

As Abram left, Aleksandr watched his Necromancer closely before turning his attention to the burning camp, taking stock of its equipment and weapons. Eventually the Vampire turned to the living gunmen he had kept at his side. "So tell me, how do you operate these guns you keep? And how skillful do you think you are?"