Mylori roared out in pain, a stream of curses coming from his mouth as the healers did what they could to staunch the blood flowing from the arrow lodged in his shoulder. It had been a lucky shot from some cowardly archer, the arrow punching through the chink in the dwarves armour and lodging itself several inches into his flesh. In the heat of the battle, sheer adrenaline and bloodlust had pushed the Forgelord into almost a frenzy, slaughtering his enemies with an unmerciful zeal, but as the flag of the Broken Empire was raised above the final stronghold of the Holy Lands, Mylori had slumped to the ground, pain finally overwhelming him. And so it was that the Warlock Thro’Gan found the dwarf pinned down to a table by his Hammerbearers as the Dwarf healers cut into his shoulder, seeking to remove the arrow from its festering wound before infection could take hold. Smelling the unmistakable stench of death, even through his blinding pain, Mylori turned towards the Warlock and all but roared at the Orc. [b]“Damn you Orc, I’m not dead yet”[/b] Mylori thought he saw a flicker of emotion cross the necromancers face, but quickly dismissed it as the black eyes bored into his own bloodshot ones. [b]“You are right Forgelord. You still cling to this mortal realm. Allow me to ease your passing”[/b] The Forgelord grimaced with pain as the healers finally pulled the arrow from his shoulder. [b]“You’d love that you bastard. But you’re not going to get your icy hands on my just yet”[/b] With a crash, Tavirin Blackstone burst into the room, breathing heavily and still grasping his bloody war hammer. Taking in the scene, the Dwarf glowered at the Warlock and spoke in a low, rumbling voice. [b]“You’re not wanted here Warlock, this is Dwarf business” [/b] Turning to look at the newly arrived Forgelord for a moment, the Orc stepped past him and out of the room. The stench lingered, but Mylori couldn’t be sure that wasn’t coming from his own gaping wound. Tavirin stepped closer to his fellow Dwarf but grimaced as Mylori turned towards him. [b]“Mylori, your face…”[/b] Raising a hand to his face, feeling the raw burns that stretched across his features, Mylori winced, even as the healers applied herbs and pastes to numb the pain of his wounds. [b]“Damn those priests and their accursed gods. Let one get too close, his hands were like fire. Managed to grab my face before I cut him down”[/b] True enough, a blackened handprint was printed onto the Forgelords face, the skin charred and burnt away. Trying not to stare at the horrific wound, Tavirin spoke again. [b]“I arrived with the support; we cut of what was left of the Holy Lands forces. I came here as quickly as I could when I heard that you had been injured. Will you survive?”[/b] Mylori let out a rough, ragged laugh. [b]“As long as I can friend. Can’t give that bloody Orc any satisfaction”[/b] Tavirin nodded. He knew that there was much to be done before the summer months came, and that Mylori would fight death at every step. Turning to the gathered Hammerbearers, Tavirin spoke in hushed voices to them. [b]“Remain with Forgelord Mylori, and ensure that our Orc friends do not get their hands on him. If the Warlock attempts to see him, you have my authority to deny him”[/b] Satisfied that the healers would do what they could, Tavirin turned and left the room. He had barely left when a Dwarf, lightly armoured and gasping for breath, called out his name. [b]“Forgelord Tavirin! A rider from the north comes with news from New Engelica. He claims that they have won a victory against the Holy Lands, and our scouts say that even now their forces are marching towards us.”[/b] Tavirin paused for a moment. He was impressed by their new-found allies, obvious the stories of their magical power were more than just folk-stories. The Broken Empire would honour their promise; this province belonged to New Engelica, even if it was Dwarven blood that was spilt to claim it, the price for alliance. Speaking to the messenger, the Forgelord described his orders. [b]“Thank the rider, and send him back to his homeland with our appreciation, and to tell his leaders that the Broken Empire honours the agreement, and we will be gone from this land by the time they arrive. Then spread the order, we shall march out of this land when the snow lifts, burn the dead and leave none behind.”[/b] [u][b]Garrison[/b][/u] [hider][b]Province 61 [/b] -3 Heavy Infantry Units -4 Artillery Units -10 Mechanical Warriors Units -11 War-Magi Units [b]Province 51[/b] -3 Heavy Infantry Units -4 Artillery Units -27 Mechanical Warriors Units -8 Mechanical Walkers Units -29 War-Magi Units [b]Province 51[/b] -2 Heavy Infantry Units -3 Artillery Units -5 Mechanical Warriors Units -1 Mechanical Walkers Units -7 War-Magi Units [b]Province 48[/b] -5 Heavy Infantry Units -5 Artillery Units -5 Mechanical Warriors Units -6 Mechanical Walkers Units -11 War-Magi Units [b]Province 47[/b] -5 Heavy Infantry Units -5 Artillery Units -5 Mechanical Warriors Units -5 Mechanical Walkers Units -12 War-Magi Units[/hider] [u][b]Actions[/b][/u] [hider] [i][b]3 Heavy Infantry Units, 4 Artillery Units, 27 Mechanical Warriors Units, 8 Mechanical Walkers Units and 29 War-Magi Units move from Province 53 into Province 51 [/b][/i][/hider] [u][b] Recruitment[/b][/u] [hider][b]Province 61[/b] 1 Mechanical Walker Units [b]Province 51[/b] 1 War-Magi Units [b]Province 48[/b] 1 War-Magi Units [b]Province 47 [/b] 1 War-Magi Unit[/hider] [u][b]Research[/b][/u] [i]Mithril Armour (Turn 3) [/i]