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THE SPIRIT OF ENROHK SMILES


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"I care not who you are, knight. Rise to the challenge and you shall fall - the Spirits shall elucidate me on whatever sense of pragmatism brought you onto your knees before me, as I cleave your head from your shoulders."

- THE REX, PHAEDRUS, c. 1400's

 

Elysium laid low by the Urukhai. As 7,100 Krughai riders from the Iron Uzg pushed at the Elysian knights and field men. Alas, the de Astreas' army could not rebuke them, and fell after several deft collisions with the enemy upon the field of battle.

 

The Spirits smile.

 

The Elves and Humans of Elysium frown.

 

Their homeland shall soon be torn asunder, if they do not act quickly. The day's events had been macabre and filled with terrors as their bodies were hewn in twine,  limb from limb, by the lumbering Orcish warlords. The vulgarities of war made clear by the broken banners, rising flames, and mangled bodies of the fallen.

 

ENROHK smiles no doubt as the Orcs pitch tents on their newly occupied territory, preparing for another offense perhaps.

 

It is not over.

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