>>6328662PROLOGUE :
Somewhere in a very dark fortress in a remote part of the world, ancient entities were watching closely. They watched how events unfolded and how life was changing. Here lied B'beg the Terrible, tentacled master of Evil, or at least of the most part of it, plotter extraordinaire, dark lord incredible and terrific tyrant. We could say that almost everything shady in a good half of the known world was of his meddling. In the gothic and spiky (any self respectable dark lord must have spikes and skulls as part of his interior decorations, and even B'beg's opinion was unknown on their aesthetic interest he was one for the decorum) room whose roof was not seen in the darkness, even to those who like Abovyurlevel, could see in the dark because of their elven blood, because it was far too high. It was here that the Dark Lord had assembled his generals, cronies and the representants of all the nasty beings that swore fealty to him. And what he had just said had shaken the audience to the core.
-It is time, sound the wardrums, release the trolls, send in the hordes ! We go to war ! The final war for the annihilation of this world has begun ! On march my minions ! On march !
Even to someone has cynical as Abovyurlevel, who had already seen eight wars to end the world in his more than ten millenia of existence, such speech was glorious and emotionnal, it would be an exceptionnal occasion. As each time, and perhaps some evil spirits will mock him for his naivety, but he believed that this time was the good one. At each the preceding wars, the forces of Evil used surprise, skill and sheer numbers to beat the ineffective defense of the forces of Good, but at the last time, some hero from a forgotten prophecy saved the day. But now, now with the confirmed death of the Chosen One there was no chance for this now. All would depend in numbers, surprise, grit and agression and now victory was inevitable. The stupid stranger, had been central to it. But this time, strangely, the generals, plotters and planners of the forces of evil looked uneasy. One of the Duergar, with golden and bloodstone decorations whose name Abovyurlevel could not remember dared to say.
-Omnipotent Gelatineous Master, I fear that the troops will not be ready for this endeavour.
The tone of the Terrible Dark Lord was dangerous.
-What do you mean by it ?
-I mean that Wohnk has not enough forces for his campaign to the southlands, to have a base to then turn against the Im..
-I know, I know, tell it to Steiner, he will reinforce the troops and put some order here.
The people in charge of troop movement and logistics, and even some charged of spycraft in the southlands, like Mokhtar, a human who was barely tolerated here. Finally, one spoke.
-My liege...
-Your sliminess...
-Steiner...
-Steiner cannot deal with the task...
-How ? How you imbeciles ? I gave you centuries of planning and you are not able to send my armies forward... Are you that incompetent ?
