Mordimus' orcs stream into the Kindred fortress, tired and hungry after the long trek from the Necromancer's tower. Kindred troops greet the refugees with skins of water while kitchenhands rush off to prepare food and medics treat the wounded. General Savuk strides through the grounds, surveying the scene. Several refugees struggle to their feet to salute the Kindred leader, but he waves for them to sit back down. "Rest, rest," he assures them. "You've come a long way tonight." Eventually he comes across a young green orc passing bread out to his comrades and helping the weary find shelter. "You there," Savuk calls. "What is your name?" The young orc draws himself to attention before Savuk and gives an eager salute. "My name is Margull, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for taking us in." Savuk looks the young orc up and down, impressed by him already. "What rank are you in Mordimus' army, Margull?" "I'm a private, sir." Savuk grins. "You're a Captain now, son. Welcome to the Kindred." "Thank you sir!" Margull says, with another eager salute. "At ease, Captain," Savuk says, motioning for Margull to walk with him. "Tell me what happened to you." "Several days ago, Mordimus ordered us to raid the village of Mangelica. But instead of just leaving the dead behind like we usually do, he made us bring them back with us. That night, he ordered us to load the corpses into wagons and deliver them to the Necromancer. We thought he'd gone mad." "He's raising an army against us," Savuk explained. Margull nodded in agreement. "However I think his plan has failed. When we arrived at the Necromancer's tower, Mordimus went inside to meet her, but never came out. The gates opened a few hours later, and there she was, the Necromancer herself, staring down at us with cold glee in her eyes. She motioned for us to bring the wagons inside. And that's when it happened..." "What happened?" Savuk prompts, putting a hand on the young Captain's shoulder. "The temple was so dark inside, so cold. At first there was only the sound of the wagons and our breathing, but soon we started to hear other sounds as well: scraping, gurgling, moaning, bones cracking underfoot. And then they were upon us. Putrid, decaying hands clawed at us from out of the darkness, their grip as strong as ogres. We tried to fight back, but there were just too many of them, and it was...it was so dark." Margull goes quiet, staring at the ground, remembering the fear. "They wiped us out. There were thousands of us, but they tore us apart in minutes. Only a couple of hundred of us escaped. Most of them returned to Mordimus' fortress on Kozar; the rest of us came here." Savuk ponders Margull's account. Several thousand battle-hardened orcs, wiped out in a matter of minutes. He looks around at the ancient, crumbling walls of the Kindred fortress, and at the few hundred orcs in the grounds around him. Damn you Kiana! he thinks to himself, biting his lip and fighting back the overpowering feeling of helplessness that tries to wash over him. There's really only one thing I can do. There's only one way out of this. "Right," he says, clenching his fists in determination. "I want you to spread the word among your troops, Margull. Tell them they are welcome to stay here today as long as they need to. We have plenty of food and water here, and they are welcome to our stores. But when the sun goes down tonight, they must make a choice. The undead are coming, Margull; maybe not tonight, but very soon. They will assault this fortress, and will not stop until it is taken. Your troops must either join us and help us fight, or leave." Margull swallowed, memories of the previous night flooding back. "I understand, sir. I will spread the word." Credits: Orc by GhostOfMacbeth (DAZ) MCFS Textures by GhostOfMacbeth (DAZ) MCFS by DAZ Vue Wagon Bread by ockham Halberd by Valandar Weapon Racks by me All textures modified/created by me