The moors surrounding Felboge Keep glowed with a thousand flickering specks of orange. The hills of the Weald had transformed at dusk into a sea of embers. They were the torches and campfires of Baron Ulrek's massing army. The low roar of a hundred conversations, horses whinnying, and smithy hammering ringing overtook the placid chirping of crickets that had prevailed over this land only a week ago. The smell of smoke and thousands of suppers being prepared carried on the moor's breeze through to the window where Ulrek Bathory surveyed his growing host.

"How many are they now?" Ulrek asked, continuing to survey the sprawling camp.

"Thirty eight thousand as of this morning's count. Some of the levies from Solleckshire arrived early in the afternoon, so they may be forty thousand men at dawn tomorrow." One of the knights assembled at the stone table behind him reported.

"That is less than I had hoped," the vampire prince said with a sigh as he turned from the window and strode to the head of the table. "I had hoped for at least fifty thousand before marching south."

"We [i]can[/i] continue to wait," another one of Ulrek's knights suggested. "We can wait another fortnight for additional levies to arrive. But already we are quickly depleting the keep's food stores. We will have to forage off of the surrounding countryside in a few day's time. This is certain to anger the serfs, and even then, there will not be enough to feed the entire army. Provisions would still have to be carted in from elsewhere. That will only add to the tremendous expense of this endeavor."

"The expense means nothing to me," Ulrek dismissed. "But I do not wish to starve the populace."

"Agreed, your majesty. I think, therefore, that it would be wise to begin the march south to the capital. It may not be as many as you like, but 40,000 men is still the largest army that the Empire has seen in at least an age. With the Dwarven cannons and Bristlebeard's dwarven levies on their way, Zachaeus and Edward will stand no chance of breaking our siege."

"I do not intend to lay siege to the Imperial Capital," said Ulrek. "I do not want to starve the subjects of my future seat of power, to force my father's hand and make him surrender. No, I will blast my way through those ramparts, cut down my runt of a brother and any guards that remain loyal to him and show my father that I was the greatest of his sons of before running [i]Pthaalma[/i] through his heart."

The knights looked at each other with wide eyes. If Ulrek meant what he said, this would be the bloodiest battle in the history of the Xelwyth Imperium. A hundred thousand men could easily die if their master intended to burst headlong through the Capital's formidable defenses.

"Very well," gulped one of the knights. "To that end, we have made some contacts with a number of mercenary groups who will provide sorely-needed muscle to our ranks." The knight turned his attention to the table, where a huge map of the Xelwyth Empire and surrounding realms lay sprawled out. Several sheets of vellum had been stitched together to make a detailed map of the entire realm. Stone figurines borrowed from chessboards had been laid out across the empire, denoting army positions, fortifications, and other points of interest.

"From the port at Solleck, we have sent our moneyed men up to the Broken Lands, and purchased at the Fanghall the services of a flotilla of Broken Lander reavers." The knight gestured to a white bishop piece set in the jagged fjords of the frigid wilderness far to the northwest of the Xelywth Empire. "They will more than sufficient to blockade the capital's harbor and prevent boats carrying Edward's men to sail out and sally out behind our forces."

"Lord Goutfoot and his cannons are still some distance away," another knight added, pointing to a queen piece in Felmurg Mountains north of the weald. "Separated from our forces by mountain passes and switchback roads through the Felmurg Mountains, it will be some time before they can rendezvous with our forces. Even so, it would be wise to march south now and surround the Capital. This would keep Edward and Zachaeus' forces trapped within the walls and allow our forces to forage on the more fertile imperial heartlands while the dwarves lug their cannons through the mountains. However, it will cost a tremendous fortune to keep these mercenaries around for an extended time."

"Never mind the expense," Ulrek dismissed. "If it is advantageous than it shall be done. I will worry about the costs later." The vampire lord sensed a new presence in the vicinity. Perhaps a guard patrol or servant out in the hallway. He paid it little mind.

"Your majesty, I would like to urge a measure caution in terms of the expenditures. Remember that both Matteas and Rory have been slain by the vampire slayers. You owe now 200,000 golden vespers to whoever carried this task out per the conditions you spelled out to those men. I am concerned about the ability to pay for everything."

"I said never to mind the expense," Ulrek snarled. "Everything will be paid for in due time."

"Well if coin is of no concern, then perhaps [i]I[/i] can be of assistance."

The gathered knights turned at once to face the newcomer who had casually barged through the doors into the chamber. A dwarf, clad in a cuirass of mithril scalemail and a cape of lion's fur, swaggered across the floor toward Baron Ulrek and his knights. The dwarf sported only a half of a thick red beard, for a full half of his face was covered in gnarled scar tissue caused by some horrific burn. An eyepatch covered the eye on the burned half of his face, but his disfiguration did not seem to effect the dwarf's demeanor in the least, as evidenced by the dwarf's confident smirk. The knights were visibly shocked by the arresting appearance of this unannounced arrival, though Ulrek had earlier sensed an unfamiliar presence and did not appear alarmed.

"And who might you be?" Demanded one of Ulrek's knights.

"Kharald Halfbeard," the dwarf announced. "Hope I didn't disrupt your discussions. I told the guards I had urgent details concerning the war effort and they let me in." The knights glanced at Baron Ulrek, meeting the dwarf's smirk with a stoic, icy glare, and knew that the vampire lord had already probed his mind and found that this dwarf was telling the truth or at least meant no harm.

"Who said anything about a war effort?" One of the knights said defensively.

"No need to say anything. I just walked through a camp of about thirty thousand men. It seems plainly evident to me that Baron Ulrek Bathory means to go to war. And what a war he means to wage. A fortnight ago, I was up north in the Hoarstrath when I saw a caravan of a dozen cannons carried by a hundred oxen come through the valley led by one Orrin Goutfoot. He tells me that one of the vampire princes means to use his favored toys against the walls of the Imperial Capital, all expenses paid and then some. Seems to me that you lot are preparing for the greatest war these lands have seen in many centuries."

"The rumors are true, Halfbeard," Ulrek said at last. "My father has committed against me a great injustice, and I shall go to any length necessary to exact my revenge."

"Then I can help," said the scarred dwarf. "On my way to this keep of yours, I took stock of the army you lot are assembling here. They're numerous, no doubt about that. But they're peasants, not soldiers. Most of 'em don't even know how to hold a spear. You send a rabble like that against the walls of Castle Bathory and it's going to be a massacre. There's plenty to be said for numbers, but when it comes to a fight on the ramparts you're gonna need folk who know how to kill a man."

"I would assume you know how to kill men," said Ulrek.

"You don't end up with a face like this picking turnips," Halfbeard drew a circle around the scar-covered half of his face with his index finger. "Aye, I know how to kill a man, and I have thirty-five hundred men, dwarves, and other folk who do too. I have catapults, trebuchets, ogres-"

"Ogres?" Ulrek repeated, his eyebrow raised. "You have [i]ogres[/i]?"

"Aye," Halfbeard nodded with a wide grin. "They've all been hunted in the lands of men, but up in the mountains and valleys of dwarven lands, ogres yet live. I've got a handful of them; big, mean ones too. Nothing makes an enemy formation rout like seeing an ogre sicced on them."

"I shall have them, then," Ulrek declared. "Bring all of your men, your ogres, and siege equipment south to the Imperial Heartlands with all due haste. For tomorrow, I march against my father and brother."