But then a young man came and ran out, and he followed by a shaved dwarf that looked warily from side to side, seemingly waiting for some trap to be sprung- and when it did not, he too ran, and then the floodgate was open. The slaves began emerging from the pits, running for freedom- running into the lines of the spiders. The first to have left was the first to die, and the dwarf disappeared under a legion of spindly legs, and then those that were running away were running back, running in any direction, running scared and leaderless.
Yet there were some brave few that lingered on, that sighted the maces and flails of their prisoners around them, and who retrieved a weapon unto themselves. Years of torment, of being subject to the utter worst that any could ever be forced to suffer, had come to a boil. They were free, yes, but they wanted revenge. Perhaps they knew that they would have to fight to escape, or perhaps they simply wanted to shed blood. But some of these slaves had been adventurers once, knights and mercenaries, and they had longed for this day.
They charged into the lines of the hagspawn, some screaming, some shouting- some laughing so manically that it put fear in the heart of the enemy. But many slaves remained still in the pits, refusing to leave whilst the battle was on, refusing to believe that they could escape. One of the final stragglers was tall and skeletal, with a beard down to his navel, who must have been in his seventies and judging by the wild look in his eyes, had been kept in the pits for years beyond counting. He knelt, picked up a flail and whispered, "You bloody bastards," before turning and charging out too, with all of the might that a malnourished pensioner could bring.
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
A screech pierced the night, louder than all of the chaos erupting around them, as one of the hags was hit square in the hunchback by Zed's lightning barrage, her robes erupting in flames, her skin smoking as her innards were cooked from the inside, her corpse falling forward into the bonfire, turning its flames golden for a brief moment before reverting back to purple. The lightning strafed from one spell-binder to another, hitting the half-elven hagspawn that were their students, the old crones that had earned the right through years of service to apprentice to their mothers, the hags themselves that were so engrossed in their god-snare that they did not notice the oncoming danger.
"Morgne!" Hissed out the Great Mother to the being on her right, to her first-born hag. She was the Great Mother's lieutenant, her second in command and the closest thing to a friend this friendless wretch could claim. Morgne had been at the Great Mother's side before she had taken up the mantle of Great Mother, was her deputy in all of her wickedness, was the greatest in magic after her mother and her staunchest supporter.
Morgne raised her hands, and from them emerged lightning of her own, the colour of blood red, snaking across the coven and finding Zed's own magic, each spark counteracted with one of her own summoning, forcing the attack back, holding it inert and useless in the air. If he were to let go of his spell, then Morgne's attack would overwhelm him.
Forgotten in the warfare, the armoured, hulking monstrosity that named itself Skullvulture had stalked its way around the edge of the bonfire, arriving behind the Great Mother and her throne of bones, behind her hagspawn lackey and protector and behind Morgne. Skullvulture's great-sword was held firmly in both hands, shield having been shattered by Rovaan, and he softly approached his target.
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
The cloaked hagspawn turned instinctively, fulfilling her task as protector to the Great Mother with unrivalled expertise. Her eyes glowed yellow in the twilight, and emerging from the cloak's hood was a pair of fallow deer antlers. Her hand was raised, magic buzzing in it, yet Skullvulture stood firm, unmoved. With a slight turn, he pointed his sword away from the Great Mother, and in the direction of Morgne. The hagspawn turned away.
Diving forwards, Skullvulture impregnated his sword into the back of the Great Mother's firstborn, lifting her bodily from the floor, lightning still shooting outwards though now uncontrolled, and charging with her held aloft on his blade. "What?!" Hissed out the Great Mother, turning in the direction of the attack, but incapable of reacting fast enough as the black-armoured devil dove hag-first into the bonfire.
A golden plume fluttered out from Morgne's entrance, spreading into the entirety of the flames, a gold, a rich gold so bright as to bring daylight back into this darkness. Skullvulture was blown away, and the hags gathered around the bonfire were thrown bodily backwards too, The Great Mother gripping the handles of her throne as she staggered away from the golden plume. A thousand screeches signalled the negative reaction of the arachnids to this change, to this breach of their unlight.
It seemed the change caused everything to stop, for sound itself to be annihilated. Friend and foe alike stood still, marvelling in the shift from the darkness, everything frozen, nothing moving, nothing daring even to breath.
A footfall was heard in the distance, followed swiftly by another, ground shaking underfoot. Something was coming. Something big.
"Cadmus Solar..." Repeated Thorek II as the name was written on Siera's parchment. There was something about that name, something that seemed almost familiar, as though recollecting a memory that was not his to begin with...
Shrugging, the dwarf continued. "Soahc? You're going after the
Defiler of the Old World
?" He sounded flabbergasted, and was physically taken aback, marvelling at Siera for several moments, face frozen in stone. And then, a wide grin broke out on his face, and the dwarf began to laugh.
"Now
that
is a foe worth coming out of retirement for. And you say he is at the Eyr Mounts? Hrm... They say art mirrors life, but I find the reverse quite a bit more true. A dwarf lord in the land of those that had enslaved the dwarves, duelling on the mountain peaks with the Demigod of Chaos. I will fight your cause, Siera. Soahc shall be my last foe, as he was my first. With luck on our side, we shall meet like-minded individuals on the way, and be able to face this demon head-on."
Judy's Respite
The boat-ride was hastened along by Cadmus Lenian's insistence of using air magic to propel them forwards, and they took the same route that the night before Annie and the other adventurers had, and so in due time found themselves arriving in the port-side and forest-side town of Darkreach, one of the border towns of Gaules.
Darkreach was a ghost town. Their ship was the only one that was at the docks- all the other shipwrights had left or had their vessels stolen. Houses and shops had been emptied in a hurry, and possessions not deemed valuable enough were strewn along the streets. Thieves had had their way with the abandoned homes as well, and cleared off as well. The only people that remained were those too old, too ill or too broken to leave, and those strange few who would not abandon the town that they loved, but instead wished to remain with it and share its fate.
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
Some buildings had seemingly been heavily damaged since the adventuring group had left- a tunnel cutting straight through the Leprechaun's Foot revealed that something very large had bore its way through town. Perfectly circular footprints were left indented in the soil, implying the creature was heavy, and judging by how wide the footprints were, it was a very large beast as well. The path of destruction lead directly into the forest, in the direction of the Hag Coven.
"Seems they've summoned their Hagfather," Cadmus Lenian observed, looking at the desolation that had been laid in its lumbering path. He fished in his pocket for his talisman, which he withdrew and observed- it was burning a deep red. "And my golem has finally caught up to Skullvulture. Today is the day I avenge my parents. Judy, now is the time for you to summon your demon."
March of Darkness
"The Great Stallion is one of the weakest and most faithless of the aspects of God," preached the Grand Priest of Soahc to anyone that would listen. "Do not let these foals interfere with the divine will of Soahc our god."
"Your pious wisdom is irreplaceable," Soahc said to his Grand Priest, who was of course a replacement for the last bestower of pious wisdom. "Get the cultists to form a rearguard- this is essential. Essential I tell thee!"
The Grand Priest nodded vigorously and fled to follow those orders, and the Demigod of Chaos rolled his eyes, before focusing on the battlefield ahead. In the skies, the confluence of metal and flesh that named itself as Spirry reigned supreme, vomiting up blood in copious amounts to flood the plains, and rising from this frightful mass was the start of bony crops, the start of something hellish and depraved.
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
Closer to home, the ethereal ranks of the ensnared dead began forming up as Brodus called them from his bewitched blade. Six spearmen stood at the helm of their group, and six archers behind moving with speed granted to them by their unlife. Sileo Umbra was given the soul-reaping knight advice as to how one should properly slay a centaur- invaluable information really, for those unacquainted with fighting the six-limb stallions.
Kira had called two lesser minions- it seemed she had taken inspiration from the air elementals that had assaulted them earlier. Between Spirry's bloodbath and Brodus's shield wall she had laid traps of her own, fire wards that would erupt when crossed. Soahc whistled low to highlight his appreciation for the work that they had wrought. They were working together, well at the very least, working individually but making a greater whole out of it anyway- Soahc's body grew with hunger, hunger to see them at their full potential, to push them to their limits and separate the loyal from the weak. Soon. It would be soon.
"I f***ing despise your c***ish way o' speaking," Raspur Cain said to Ubaid as way of answering his first question. He removed his crystal once more to show the wraith, whilst his other hand rested on his flintlock pistol, wary eyes scanning for the first hint of betrayal.
"Is leverage 'inimical' to you? This crystal's all I've got, and I ain't f***ing daft enough to think a limp-wristed fart wrapped in armour as old as Ethyl's saggy c*** will keep his word. But I've kept a close eye on you, like a wart on a mangled c**k. I'll give you the crystal, oh yes... for that w****son heart o' yours."
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
The centaur herd was in full charge now, coming into plain view. They wore little armour, save for their leader, a woman who wore a Nemes Headdress, looted from the ruin of one of the ancient empires which dotted the Plains. They carried with them spears and bows and scimitars and scythes, blades meant to aid in their swooping action as they charged through the enemy.
They feet thundered over the heated blood-pools conjured by Spirry. The heat was barely felt beneath their iron-shod horseshoes, but the ground was difficult to traverse. Some tripped, the crowd breaking around them as the cavalry continued on its rampage. Snags of bone mutating out of the ground caught at their legs and brought others down, their brethren behind them incapable of dodging the fallen bodies and trampling their fellow herdsmen underfoot. They spread out as they continued to ensure more casualties would not be caused in this manner, and at full speed crossed the threshold of the Pyromistress's ward.
Flames shot up in a fearsome wall, and shouts shots up as well as the centaurs charged straight through them, becoming engulfed in the fires. They writhed and fell, or else charged until the burning brought them down, though most simply stopped and flailed around helplessly as they were cooked alive. The herd's stallion came out free however, flanked by her two deputies, (one of whom unloaded a water-skin onto his face to put out his flaming hair,) and they by their honour guard, and following them was the full force of the remaining herd, charging headlong into the volley of arrows being sent down upon them by Brodus's thralls.
The moustache-touting accomplice of the stallion fell as one of the arrows pierced the front of his flank, shattering bone and ruining his charge, but still the herd as a whole came on. Bowmen were firing upwards towards Spirry, firing so that should they miss the demon, the arrows would still come falling down on Soahc's elite.
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
Javelins were thrown ahead, and up and down the line the weapons of the centaurs were ready as they came full-charge into the lines of Soahc's gathered forces.
Slayer of Azul
Breymaire met Cirion's gaze, it was of some surprise, though for the most part it was one of mourning. It was clear that the centaur chiron did not expect the rest of his herd to survive their encounter with the Father of Evil.
"You speak of the Abolisher," said Breymaire the Conciliator as they strolled onward and away from the sounds of growing violence in the distant south. "Upon my Ascension I was made aware of her existence, though I knew nothing of her character or her age. Her purpose is a different one to mine, and soon there shall be many more Avatars. Lord Arran is sharing his gift of godhood to those that are faithful, and in doing so shall return to earth once more."
"Bloodgift made Arran a god," piped up the hagspawn Vianna, seemingly finding her voice now that the intimidating ranks of the centaurs had been depleted to this solitary, moping scholar. "You're playing into his hands."
"Isn't everyone?" Asked the bearded centaur with some dejected bemusement. "Lord Arran has plans of his own, and I trust in his judgement. But without Zarleigh, I fear I'll never unite the centaurs... Now I'm just a chiron without a herd, who willingly puts himself at the whims of a human. Arran may be a god, but he is human nonetheless. Still, he named me Conciliator, and so I shall never give in."
Vianna didn't seem satisfied with the centaur's none response, and chose to sulk rather than engage him in further dialogue.
"Where to? That is the question. Soahc came from the west, so he is not likely to return that way. He is too visible to take on the Tyrannian Empire with so feeble a force. There is strange talks from the ogre hills, perhaps that is where he is headed... Quite frankly, I do not know what to believe."
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
They left the Great City of Og, (which seemed neither great nor a city, as far as Karstone was concerned,) and headed out onto the open road. Karstone regretted the fact that the ogre Mugwo would not be accompanying them- he could use some decent company. The dwarf's life goal appeared to be to successfully emulate the mute, the elf was a sociopath dressed up in fancy clothes and even fancier words, and the undead pirate was perhaps the closest thing to a wholly evil man that Karstone had ever encountered.
"I am elvenkind's noblest stock," Timruviel said to Ryle, with all of the humbleness and modesty that an elf could muster- meaning none at all. "My deathly departure would be to the detriment of my slovenly species." Karstone wondered what it was like to be so full of yourself as to believe your entire species would be less-well regarded if you were to die- then considered asking Ryle or Gorm that very question, but held his tongue. The two chatters were at least deadly folk, and Karstone did not want to get on the dwarf's bad side when he had the potential to be a kind-hearted, if infuriatingly silent, partner.
"Enslaving the magically gifted will be challenging," Timruviel told Ryle in a comradely sort of fashion. "Perhaps one should dispense ties with Og instead? Out of armour, an ogre is an ogre, after all. Whilst a wizard unclothed is a wizard still."
"Ah think that'll be a problem fer the cap'ain's buyer," piped up Karstone, who did not like that they were speaking of mutiny so soon, and would love to see what the magically gifted inhabitants of Ogrin could do to Ryle's buyers.
"Quite," agreed Timruviel, then continued as though he was never interrupted. "The sacrilegiously unsanitary globule naming itself the 'Big Fat' insists the magical academia of the ogres of Ogrin predates Og's discovery of smithing and forges. The war is inconsequential, but the rewards shall be lucrative."
Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire
"Ah think the elf's righ'," admitted Karstone, something he was loath to do. Simply going by a map, the only magic users around were the elves in their ancient, mystical forest which bordered the ogre hills in the east, which was where the shanty-country of Ogrin had been established. Karstone did not rule out his suspicion that Ogrin might have an equivalent to Og's Big Fat, and that these ascended creatures were playing chess with the ranks of the ogres for amusement, or perhaps towards some sinister goal.
"Naturally," agreed Timruviel, who was staring with some amusement at the dwarf, who seemed to giving the mercenary a look of disapproval. "Perchance I have aggravated our diminutive companion? My sincerest apologies." The apology didn't sound like it was much of an apology going by his tone of voice.
As they passed through the roving hills of the ogres, they eventually stumbled upon the remnants of a battlefield. The carcasses of ogres laid all about them, some in the heavy, disjointed armour of Og, others in crudely sown-together animal skins clearly meant to emulate a wizard's robes from Ogrin. Vultures were eating at the corpses, and mountain cats. The air was thick with flies and rats scuttled through the blood. A single poppy blew lazily in the breeze.
In the centre of the battle there was a
gaping maw
in the ground, as though hit by an asteroid, or perhaps at though something very, very large had clawed itself out from the ground. Large craters stretched off into the distance, which when looked at in full seemed to indicate something equally massive having moved through here- but it could not be possible, for there was no creature which roamed Engelain that was anywhere near so gigantic.
