Riding down the hillside Aratmus’ Ram Chariot led from the front. Rogue or loose demons that had left the main pack charged upon them, only to be crushed and slaughtered by might of the sturdy chariot, while his front line of dwarves cut them down with axes, hammers, halberds and more. Their plan was not to fight the entire army, but to gain its attention and draw them into close quarters before activating the device. Fearlessly, Aratmus remained at the front and his men, outnumbered, valiantly ran into the frey.

It was brave to run into such a giant army, with so little chance of direct success they could all be going to their deaths. The trust in this situation, their trust in Elite and Storm doing what they had agreed to do was borderline insane. They had only just met, and through a series of promises they lay their luck and faith in them without question.

Is this the power of the horn? Sorian watched from a distance from battle and hoped he would not get drawn into fighting himself.

The makeshift vehicle of Elite and Storm was led down the hill and into battle as the dwarves centered their attack like a piercing arrow, cutting into the heart of the demon army. The further they pushed in, the more they became surrounded. The Dwarven artillery, with cannons and catapults, designed with steel mechanisms powerfully launched rocks far into the demonic army ranks. Crushed and blown apart from the explosions the demons did not waver, appearing even more incited by the spread of blood and gore.

Sorian watched from up top his horse, safe from the battle up top the hill with the artillery. A small squadron of men remained here, not just to fire the weapons, but to set up tents and stack up resources. Here Cazri controlled the orders, ensuring the tents were set, that the artillery had its ammunition, and that when the battle was done, their men had a camp to return to. It all seemed awfully confident.

I’m not sure if I want us to fail or succeed.

Heading towards Cazri, Sorian watched her enter one of the tents. Set up impressively quickly, the dwarves were constantly proving how organised and efficient they were; the circular tent had its own extended entrance for guards and appeared constructed in a classic yurt-like design. Hopping off his horse he tied its reins to a secure post, just as the rain from the dark clouds above began to fall, and the daylight seemed to darken as the clouds above them continuously expanded.

Sorian cautiously entered the tent as the dwarven workers moved on to the next one. It was ever darker inside, the dull light barely enough to let them see, but Cazri didn’t seem hindered as she dug through one of the boxes. She pulled back her hooded robe and looked over her shoulder at him as he entered.

“Did my footsteps give me away?”

“What do you want, Sorian?” She huffed and turned back to her box, shifting through what appeared to be fruit.

“Have you even paid any attention to the war outside? I thought you’d be there.”

“I don’t need to. I know we are going to win.”

“You have a lot of faith. So does everyone else it seems. How did he inspire such confidence in his men? In an elf?”

“Some people are just charismatic and inspiring. Others are drawn to that.” Cazri pulled out a wonky looking green fruit and took a bite. The escaping juice caught by her spare fingers as she slurped up the fresh fruity flavour with some enjoyment.

“They all seem to be in a trusting gaze. No one Dwarf is hesitating out there. They are outnumbered, greatly outnumbered. And the gate is still open, I saw it with my own eyes. It’s presence is causing this strange storm overhead.”

Cazri didn’t respond for a moment. Leaving him to listen to the bite of her eating the fruit, and the pitter patter of the rain as it struck the outside of the tent. “If you don’t believe, then leave.”

“Come now. We both know you can’t have me leave and risk warning Ettermire.”

“I’m sure, when all of this is over. We’ll let you leave alive. Now go back outside and watch as we make history.”

“Before I do. When this is over, and we have the army… And we have Ettermire defeated. He’ll have what he wants. Will you remain at his side? You're not a dwarf. You’ve already organised and used your contacts to get him this far… Will he still need you?”

—-


The fight waged on, bloody and horrific, if left to continue stories of the horrors would shape this land of the slaughter of the dwarves for centuries to come. Finally Elite and Storm were moved into position, deep within the ranks of demons they centered themselves as much as possible and began their plan. Elite placed the makeshift helmet upon his head.

“Get ready to have the ride of your life!” Storm pursed his hands and let rip with a powerful blast of electrical energy. Doing his best to focus his efforts on the conducting poles, he watched it rip down the wires, sparkes pouring out as they could not handle all of the power that he mustered. His eyes strained red, and his now dirty hair blew backwards with the force. He could feel it against his skin, the burning sensation he felt was not new, but putting all his energy into a device he was only one step back from, forced him to endure the pressure of his own unique power. With such powerful electrical energy being drawn in, the sky storm thundered down a streak of lightning that hit and tore into their vehicle.

KABOOM!

They exploded out in a thick cloud of black dust and a glowing blue energy symbolic of electrical sparkes. Storm flew back off the cart as his chair was blown backwards - ripped off with the power of the explosion. Elite held his head as he stumbled forward, even his bony skull was overwhelmed with the energy. He roared out in pain as his mind raced and expanded into everything around him: the demonic rage, the hate, the anger, the want for death and destruction filled him - He was now one mind with the demon army. His vision blurred and ran between the dark recesses of the plain of death, and then the war torn land before him. The fighting continued, the demons getting ever closer as he took in the power. Then he further collapsed to his knees, the device clinging together with scraps of metal and wires, but somehow, someway, still working.

“STTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!” Elite roared his order into the battlefield, and quickly, rank by rank the demons stopped charging, stopped fighting, and allowed silence to fall over the battlefield.