[h3][center]Near Port Biadh
Day 53[/center][/h3]


Thoughts swam like a storm through Aonghas mind, his hand gripping his sword tightly as he stared out over the army of statues. Turning his head he looked back at the two hundred elf warriors he had brought, then down at the twenty mages lined up before him. A whisper of cloth on leather could be heard as he hopped down from his steed and stepped to stand next to Marsalli, the mage barely even spared Aonghas a glimpse before looking back to the stone army. 

"Strange beings aren't they Prince Aonghas?" The Magitrix moved to stand in line next to the other mages, all the important ones were there. Eibhlin had not come but Brigh and Una were accounted for among their numbers.

The Prince licked his lips, and turned to look up and down the line once more. "Well know this no matter what, the army has your back, we will fight these stone beings to the last if they choose to attack."

A faint smile crossed Marsalli's lips. "It seemed to do someting in the Emerald Empire,  but we will do this without damaging the statues unnecessarily. I can only hope that it quenches whatever they are after, and that they leave."

Backing away from the mages, and setting his fighting hand on his sword hilt he prepared himself to watch the show, the cavalry behind him restless as their horses danced this way and that. Bolt throwers were loaded and ready to fire their enormous bolts into the stone army.

As one the mages brought their hands up, eyes closing, as they focused, and channeled, the air before them beginning to sizzle with the power they were building up, light so bright it blinded those behind them to the point that they had to look away, it was as if a sun had descended upon the very ground in front of them.

As the power continued to grow tendrils of energy began to lash out from the ball leaving burnt lines across the ground wherever they landed. Still the mages pushed more energy into the ball, the surrounding landscape began to burn with the bright light, it was as if day had exploded in the midst of the night. 

Still it was not over though, as the mages began to exhaust themselves of magic, the most powerful pouring even more than the others into the ball though. Then all at once the ball turneed a bright purple and begain to snap the air leazing the scent of burning ozone falling upon the elven army. With a snap though the energy was suddenly released, and it poured over over the stone army as a wave of powerful energy that would burn any normal person to ash. Writhing and cracking and hissing the energy washed over the rows and columns of the stone soldiers before them.

As the wave of magical energy flooded the endless rows of statues, those touched by the immense power began to glow a crimson red, deformed faces jumbling on the faceless ones, with those already bearing the faces of the dead remaining the same. Astonishingly the wave of magic slowly began to fade, streams of its light being hastily absorbed by the statues below, and the deformed faces fading as the energy was sapped. 

As the tickle of magic finally faded from the atmosphere, the elven army found themselves standing before the same sight they were mere moments ago, save for the scortched earth surrounding the statues. 

Suddenly a deep baritone laugh rang from behind the Elven army. 

The mages were stunned by the lack of any action that had been of consequence from the massive amount of magic pushed forth. Prince Aonghas himself was completley stunned, he had never seen a showing of such power, and it had done literally nothing at all. "We wi-" however he did not get the words out as a deep laugh erupted behind him. Heads turned, the soldiers immediately did an about face, as the cavalry worked their reins to get their horses turned around.

There standing on a patch overlooking the army was a single figure. It was covered head to toe in a dark dusty metal, with bold faces and sharp edges that of the Fervari style. He was leaning on a mighty strange forward curved blade with his right hand, and a boxy sharp edged shield covered his left arm. Behind his metal suit, all that could be seen was his chin and mouth, both a gross mix of earthen colors and coals, with terrible yellow teeth poking behind thick slightly decayed lips.

As everyone's vision fell upon the figure, he again let out his booming voice, "for what reason do you throw your magic at these soldiers?"

The troops parted letting the Prince walk through, in his hand he carried now his curved blade to his side, the tip pointed in the Fevari's direction. "To test what they are. To see how they react! What do you know of these.. Soldiers, tell me!"

The rest of the elven force dared not move, they had not been given order to, and the mages well they stood to the rear, still depleted of their magic from the incredible amount they had used against the stone army.

"I know who made them, and I know their purpose," The Grogar answered, "and I know why your magic was seemingly wasted."

Aonghas looked back to the army behind him, then to the stone army behind his own. "If you know their purpose, if you know so much about them, then tell us, that we might better see them properly used."

"I do not doubt they will do their purpose, but I do have doubts you will see to their purpose," The Grogar answered, "do you truly wish to know how to properly use such devices?"

"I would not ask if I did not wish to know... They are on our land, they are not of our make, it seems to be of the utmost importance that we learn of their design and reason."

"They are here to protect this land," The Grogar answered, "they will not harm you, not unless you harm them."

The Grogar paused a moment, "however, not all of them are ready to be used, those without faces still need sacrifices."

The Prince seemed confused for a moment, and chewed the inside of his lip before walking towards the Grogar, his sword still at the ready just in case. "Sacrifice. Do you mean we must kill our own people to prepare this army?"

As the Prince approached, he couldn't help but to notice the smell of wet soil coming from the Grogar. The metal clad Fervari shook his head, "it just requires death, it does not care where it is from. The death of an animal will not do, it requires that of a sentient... be it dryad, to elf or human. It does not care which, nor your relation to the dead, nor how they died."

creases came to the corners of the elf's lips as he frowned all the more. "I see. What are they here to protect the lands from? Why cannot we protect the lands ourselves?"

"You're inadequate," The Grogar answered, "it is too risky to allow you to fight what is to come as you are. These soldiers have been tailored over hundreds of years to fight the enemy, it makes their requirement worth the while."

"See it such as this," The Grogar explained, "either a few die to power this army, these armies, or all is lost."

" I see, how do you figure into all this? What is your purpose?" He looked to his soldiers, and took a deep breath. "What is coming for the stone army to fight?"

"An army of angels, born of the Lord Emperor and the Primordials," The Grogar growled, "and I figure I know what is best considering I have been spending the last three hundred years fighting them."

"I see, then.. I will speak with the Queen, I will ask for her aid in this endeavor... It would be helpful if you could meet with her as well."

"By all means," The Grogar agreed. A deep inhale skimmed under his helmet for a moment and then the Fervari let out a grainy and deep roar, "STAND AT THE READY!"

The Grogar coughed as the sound of stone grinding began to ring across the scene as the statues began to spring to life, "I will see your Queen, know me as Krag of Tarkima, Knight of the Silver Legion."