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Nadirah looked up at the sky as she brought the flask to her lips, silently counting the stars. The gentle murmur of voices and occasional clatter of metal on wood created a soothing wall of grey noise that allowed the tired warrior to relax. After a while she leaned back, resting her head against the ever-present kentaur stallion's flank.

"So you never did tell me." She said casually. "How did you get here? Did they drug you too?"

"No." The stallion said quietly. "Pointed-tooth say mare going on boat. I say I with mare, I go. They say mare go to fight. I say she need herd, I go. They make stay... under. Dry but dark."

"In the cargo hold." Nadirah said with a nod. "You're a crazy one, pony boy." She took another drink from her flask before offering it to the stallion. "Do you have a name, by the way? Or do your kind not use them?"

"Name no common." He replied as he accepted the flask and sniffed it, screwing up his nose as he handed it back.

"No common version of your name, huh?" Nadirah pondered the problem as she took another pull from her flask. "Well, I have to call you something besides pony boy. From now on, your name is Jori. If anyone takes issue to that, tell them to come talk to me."

The stallion flicked his ears, but gave no other external sign of the sudden burst of emotion he felt. "I Jori now." He agreed. "I Jori."

"I have a feeling we're going to be seeing action come sunrise." Nadirah said. "They've wasted enough time making sure we know what end of a sword is the pointed one. They're going to send us out come morning. We best sleep well tonight."

As the doe had predicted, morning brought an order to gather all possessions and be ready to move out after breakfast. Large kordox driven carts waited to carry everyone to their destination. Other than a few permanent residents, the camp was to be emptied. Jori refused to ride the cart, electing instead to follow along behind it along with several others who prefered to ride their own mounts. The others filled the cart benches, unwilling to walk the long miles to the next camp.

When they arrived, they were assigned sleeping tents and then given time to settle in. Nadirah wore all of her worldly possessions so she was in no hurry to head to her sleeping quarters, but she followed Jori, who had been assigned the same tent. The stallion went inside while Nadirah waited by the entrance.

"Hey!" Nadirah's ear perked up as she heard a gruff voice come from inside the tent. "Horses belong in the stable with the rest of the animals!"

"Best watch it, Jurg," Came another unfamiliar voice. "That's the cow's pet. From what I hear, she's a crazy one."

"Have to be crazy to be here." Came a third voice. "But that doesn't mean we have to put up with the stink of horse meat. Get the hell out of here you filthy animal!"

"I stay with mare." Jori protested. "Mare stay, Jori stay." Nadirah heard him give an annoyed snort and then a shuffling sound when he stomped a hoof to emphasize his point.

"You and your ugly mare can both go sleep in the stable for all I care!" Came the first voice again. "But you ain't staying in here."

"Just throw him out." Came a more human sounding voice. "He doesn't fight. He just hides behind that cow of his like a beaten dog. I've seen it."

"That's not a bad idea." One of the others spoke up. "Here horsie, I got a carrot for yah." This comment was followed by a round of cruel laughter as well as the slap of wood against flesh. Jori neighed angrily. "Oh sorry, must have eaten the carrot, all I have left is the stick!" There was more laughter, which was cut short by a hard thud, followed by the thump of a body striking the ground.

"Hey, Ruga, you're not going to let him get away with that are you?" Nadirah shook her head and took a long pull from her flask as the sounds of fighting broke out. Furniture crashed and splintered, blows were exchanged, grunts and howls of pain all reached the doe's ears. Taking one last drink from her nearly empty flask, Nadirah took her time attaching it back into place on her hip.

Finally she pulled back the flaps of the tent and entered. Wood and straw littered the dirt floor. What cots remained whole had been shoved aside haphazardly as three bruns and a man wrestled with the kentaur stallion. One of the orks had managed to grab hold of Jori's forelegs, nearly toppling him, but the kentaur still kicked out viciously with his hind feet as well as raining down blows with his fists and delivering fierce bites.

"Shut the hell up! All of you!" Nadirah yelled, making the combatants all freeze in place as they took notice of her for the first time. "Get the hell out of here if your going to wrestle. I want to take a nap." She pulled one of the unbroken cots from the tangle and prepared to lay down, turning to look at the combatants.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the orks demanded.

"That's the cow that protects him." The human said, taking a step away from the kentaur. "Let the horse go, guys. She's crazy."

"Don't look all that threatening to me." The ork holding Jori's forlegs spat, releasing his grip. Jori gave an irritated snort and backed up to stand beside Nadirah, his eyes shifting warily between all of the attackers.

"Look, as much as I'm enjoying your adulation here, you'll have to worship me later." Nadirah said. "Now g-"

"You don't look that crazy to me." One of the orks interupted, stepping forward. "In fact, you look about as harmless as that felking pile of horseflesh there." He sneered as he stepped even closer until he was standing only a few inches away, glaring up at the tarin. His skin was the murkey brown of swamp water and just as criss-crossed with scars as Nadirah's own. He was larger than the other two and his tusks jutted outward from his mouth as if attempting to escape his fettid breath.

"Is that what you think?" Nadirah replied calmly, returning the ork's stare.

"Yeah." The ork snarled, taking another step closer so that his chest was pressed against her abdomen. "What are you going to do about it, cow?" The other two orks began to creep closer, lending their presence to him.

"I'm still deciding if I should kill you or just cripple you." Nadirah replied, her voice lowering in volume.

"Hmph." The ork snorted in disbelief. "And just how do you plan to do th-" He never got to finish his question. The tarin moved swiftly, bowing down until her forehead connected with the ork's with a sickly crack. The ork gave a pained groan and collapsed limply to the floor. The two remaining orks stood where they were a moment, looking at their fallen comrad with shock, then together they leapt at the warrior. In the confusion of the following fight, the human slipped away before the tent and it's contents were completely destroyed.

"I'm afraid he's dead." The healer said solemly. "Even the druids can not call back his soul."

"How unfortunate." Said a high elf in a decorated uniform, his gaze fixed on Nadirah. "He was quite a useful fellow. I don't suppose you have anything to say about this, Wolfcaller?"

"What was started was finished." She answered simply, looking down at the stretched out corpse. "Besides, he was a pain in the ass anyway."

The elf twisted his mouth and looked away again. "Yes, I suppose Jurg wasn't the most pleasant soldier in the order... but he was good at his job. Often he would take on our most dangerous covert missions. Actually, Jurg was a bit of a local celebrity at camp here." He turned his attention back to the tarin, eyeing her speculatively. "I hear you've got a bit of a reputation yourself. I suppose it was bound to happen that you two would lock horns. Eh, so to speak."

"It happens." Nadirah replied without remorse.

"Yes, yes. I suppose it does." The elf agreed with a nod. "Especially with those hot-blooded orks. Well, all of the others are refusing to share quarters with you now, of course. Including those who came with you from base camp. We're going to have to put you and the centaur in a tent of your own. You don't mind, do you, Wolfcaller?"

"Kentaur." The doe answerd softly.

"What?" The elf asked, seeming confused. "What was that?"

"Jori is a kentaur." Nadirah replied softly. "You called him a centaur."

"Ah, yes... well." He looked away again. "I didn't realise the beast even had a name. Well, will the separate tent be acceptable accomidations for you and the... eh, kentaur, Wolfcaller?"

"We'll be fine." She said.

"Of course you will be." The elf said cheerfully, giving her a familial pat on the arm. "Play nice now. No more killing unless it's the enemy, ok?"

"I make no promises."Nadirah said before walking away, not waiting to be dismissed. The tent set aside for them was far away from the others, offering the outcast pair plenty of privacy.

"I no mean... make trouble for mare." Jori said mournfully as she entered, having confined himself to the enclosure.

"You worry too much." The doe said dismissively, laying down on her bed. "We'll be left alone now. And that's the best we could have hoped for."

Jori looked up, ears still folded back although the rest of his equine face showed no expression. "Mare no anger?" He asked nervously.

"You mean 'angry'." She replied casually. "And no, I'm not. And neither is anyone else here. They don't care about us, Jori. We're just fodder. They didn't even bother turning around the damn ship when I got washed off, just kept right on going towards shore as if nothing had happened."

"I knew mare come back! I wait!" The stallion stated excitedly, rising to his feet. "All say mare gone! Jori go back, but I say no! Mare come back! I wait!"

Nadirah turned her head and looked at him, a faint near-smile playing at her lips. "Why do you stay, Jori? You know they'll let you go back home. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable with your own people?"

The stallion tilted his head slightly, his ears raising to give him a look of confusion. "Mare claim Jori, so Jori come." He replied. "Mare protect, Jori take care of mare. Happy, you?"

"You're playing a dangerous game expecting me to protect you." Nadirah said softly, turning her head to watch him.

"I fight. I teach self." Jori protested. "No fight like mare, but give pointed-tooths fight when sent."

"Sent?" Nadirah asked. "Sent where? For what?"

The stallion sobered immediatly, lowering himself back to the ground and folding his long legs beneath him. His ears again pulled back and he looked away from her, reluctant to speak but unwilling to ignore her question. "I small colt." He said softly. "Small, weak, chosen for pointed-tooths. Kentaur lands next to pointed-tooth. No like kentaur. Cause trouble and mares no happy, so send stallion to say stop. Stallion taught common so can speak. No come back."

The doe sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "So the orks get bored and cause trouble and your sent as a sacrifice because you were born smaller than average. Maybe you're safer with me after all."

"If die, die with mare. No pointed-tooth." Jori replied somberly.

"Damn it, Jori! Call them orks!" The doe snapped. "Didn't I tell you to work on your common?"

"I sorry." The stallion replied.

Nothing more was said, and the pair lost themselves to their own thoughts, separated in their silence.

Morning brought the screams of wounded, leaving no time for idle chatter as tarin and kentaur joined the others, rushing from their beds to see what was the matter. A crowd had quickly formed, watching a small group of ragged orks and humans limping toward the camp. One of the orks dragged a make-shift stretcher behind him but Nadirah could not see who or what was on it as she jostled through the crush of bodies.

"Get a druid! Hurry!" One of the group screamed at them. "Hurry! While there's still time!" A moment later, Nadirah felt herself shoved aside as several healers parted the crowd, heading for the small band. "Hurry! Help him! Now!"

The ork pulling the stretcher stopped and gently set it to the ground, exposing a mangled creature that had once been human. Naked bones and muscle peeked from shredded skin, blood oozing lazily from severed veins. The healers ringed the living corpse and kneeled down, each laying a hand on the body's chest, but one by one they shook their heads and pulled away.

"You- you gotta help him!" Another member of the group pleaded. "He saved us! The damn idiot saved us, what was left of us! Can't you do anything?"

A druid reached out her arm to touch him again, and Nadirah watched in fascination as the wide-leafed vines covering her body began to wilt as their life energy was transferred to the injured form. Slowly the body's wounds began to heal, the wounds starting to repair themselves, but then it suddenly stopped. Bowing her head, the druid withdrew her hand and turned to the small band of survivors. "I am sorry." She said mournfully. "His soul has fled, and does not wish to return. There is nothing more to be done except to burn his remains so that he can not come back."

A heavy silence fell over everyone gathered as they mourned the loss of a brave soul, even if they had never met him. "Who that?" Jori whispered into the doe's ear.

"They are us." Nadirah replied softly. "We've all been brought here to die."

"Keep me on my damn feet, druid! Let me deal with the rest!" Nadirah snapped angrily, flopping down roughly on the cot and lifting one of her legs. A broken peice of bone jutted through the flesh. Without hesitation, the tarin grabbed one end and yanked it out, tossing it over her shoulder. "Well? Are you afraid of a little blood? Get the hell over here, elf!"

The wood elf shook her head, shaking herself out of her shocked stupor and rushing over to kneel next to the tarin's injured leg. Her hands glowed faintly as she placed them on the wound. When she took them away again, the skin had sealed itself as if it had never been broken. "You need to take better care, tarin. You can not continue on like this. Your body needs rest, and it will fail on you if you keep going like this. And you know what will happen if you get killed out there."

Nadirah rolled her ankle to test it, then rose to her feet, towering over the wood elf druid. "Let me worry about what I need. You just worry about stopping the bleeding when I need it."

As she was walking out of the tent, a high elf in a decorated uniform spotted her and waved. His long, flowing hair and tall, slender stature differentiated him from a human. "Ah! Wolfcaller! There you are!" He called as he hurried over to her. "Great job on that last mission! Did anyone else in your team survive? Those exploding corpses were certainly a new trick, weren't they. We've never seen them do that before."

"No." Nadirah replied simply, not slowing her pace.

"No? No one else made it? Ah, now that's a pity, some good soldiers went on that mission." The elf chattered on, following easily beside her. "But at least you succeeded. That was a crippling blow against the undead lord! And it's all thanks to you, you know. Why if we only had twenty more of you this entire war would be over in no time! In fact, I've never seen anyone so capable of surviving so many suicide missions and still able to-"

Nadirah stopped and turned to face him, giving a snort of annoyance. "Do you ever shut up?!" She snapped angrily. "If you have a point, come to it quickly. If not, leave me be! I've not the time or paitence to deal with you, Teig!"

Teig froze, a look of astonishment widening his eyes until they looked ready to fall out of their sockets. After a few seconds, he recovered and his face scrunched together in a scowl. "That's COMMANDER Teig to you, Wolfcaller!"

"You know your fancy titles mean nothing to me, elf." She growled, reaching out and flicking at one of the dangling medals. "Nor do your fancy little shinies. So either get to your point or get out of my way."

Commander Teig glared back at the tarin for a moment, then suddenly his face broke out in a grin. "There's that famous disrespect for authority of yours I love so much!" He said with a laugh, slapping the doe's arm and driving a bone splinter deeper into her skin. "Were you anyone else I'd have you whipped and put on latrene duty! And possibly executed on top of that! But... you seem to have made quite the impression on those in charge. And despite my urging to the contrary, they feel you deserve a promotion."

"Another one." Nadirah sighed wearily, turning away and continuing her walk towards her sleep tent. "Hurray for me."

Commander Teig laughed again, giving her another companionable slap to the arm. "You really should be more respectful, Wolfcaller!" He said cheerfully. "You're being given a huge honor with-"

"Take your honor and shove it sideways, high elf!" She yelled at him over her shoulder and ducked into the tent, closing the flaps behind her. Teig stood at the doorway for almost a full minute before she saw his silhouette walk away, unwilling to take the risk of entering her private space, out of the view of potential witnesses.

Nadirah sighed and sat down on the edge of her cot, plucking out a few remaining bone splinters and dropping them to the ground. She felt like she needed to bathe, the stench of death clinging to her fur, dried gore still splattered across her armor, but she was unwilling to leave the tent. It had become her only remaining sanctuary. No one but the kentaur stallion dared step foot inside the small canvas room after what she had done.

Jori ducked his head in the flap, then promptly withdrew again, returning a few minutes later with a metal basin full of water and a cloth. "Smell like ghoul, you. Need clean." He said as he entered, setting the basin on the ground beside her bed and offering her the cloth.

"Thanks." Nadirah murmured softly, accepting the rag and sliding to her feet. As she reached down to wet the cloth, she was surprised to find the water was heated. She undressed quickly and set her armor aside, washing herself before the water had the chance to cool. "Thanks, Jori." She said again, lifting her head to look for him only to find that he had slipped away with her armor.

The quiet stallion had made himself an invaluable addition to the doe's life, keeping true to his word to take care of her. With quiet efficiancy, he did everything he could to make her life better. The stallion had even spent time with the healers so that he could learn how to properly care for the injuries she wouldn't let the healers touch.

The kentaur gave a slight nod of his head when he finally returned hours later, the warrior's cleaned and oiled armor clutched in his careful finger. A bandage wrapped around one of his forelegs and fresh scars marked his coat. His long mane and tail had both been cut short. More than once she had seen him limping, and he often fought with the foul-tempered orks, but he had never once asked her to save him, and she had never thought to intervene.

"Thank you, Jori." She said softly, her eyes tracing a bite scar on his flank. "You don't have to do that, you know. I would have cleaned up soon."

"Mare fight. Need strength. I care for mare so can rest. Keep fighting." Jori replied as he walked to the blanket spread across the floor of the tent and carefully laid down, favoring his bandaged forleg.

"Your common is finally getting better." Nadirah said softly.

"I talk with healers. They teach." He said, rolling onto his side before tilting his head to look at her. "Is... you happy with me?"

"Yes, Jori." She replied with a smile. Your mare is very happy with you. Now get some rest. We're both going to need it in the morning."

As Nadirah had said, the camp was bustling when she and the kentaur emerged from their shared tent. An air of tension and excitement had invaded the camp and had everyone on edge. "Hey, what's going on?" She asked a random soldier.

"It's Malthamus himself!" The human replied. "He's come down to face us directly! Apparently all of our successful attacks have been making him nervous! Doesn't really matter either way! This is our chance to destroy him and his entire undead army once and for all!"

"I knew this was coming." Nadirah grumbled as she stalked away, the stallion following close behind her. Everyone was in a flurry of activity, some trying to distract themselves from the fearful news while others were busy preparing for the oncoming slaughter. Sharpening weapons, repairing armor, dressing the mounts, everyone was doing something to busy themselves.

"Ah! There you are, Luitenant!" Came a familiar and unwelcome voice. Nadirah turned to see Teig hurridly approaching her. "Exciting development!" Nadirah waited unhappily for him to catch up to her, not really in the mood to talk to the insufferable human but also knowing he was her best source of information. "Exciting indeed!" He continued as he caught up to the waiting doe. "We've managed to drag the old dragon himself out of his cave, so to speak! Malthamus himself has come to lead that miserable army of his! Do you know what this MEANS, Luitenant Wolfcaller?!"

"That we're all going to die horrible deaths and become undead minions?" Nadirah replied, her voice carrying no trace of humor.

"That we are WINNING!" Teig exclaimed excitedly. "And now is our chance to strike at him directly! To destroy him and his plague of undeath once and for all!" The high elf grinned, making the tarin feel sick. "Well? Aren't you excited?"

"Have you gone on any of these missions you keep sending us on, high elf?" Nadirah snapped angrily, jabbing at the air with an accusatory finger. "We're not winning. We're not even making a dent. If that bastard is here himself, it's not because he's afraid of us. It's because you idiots should be afraid of him." She gave a snort of disdain and strode purposefully away before he could reply. "This will not end well." She muttered to herself.

"What drivel are you spouting, tarin?!" The Commander shouted at her as she left. "Of COURSE this will end well! It will end in a victory over the necromancer!"

Nadirah sighed softly and turned around to look at him, the stallion figgiting nervously behind her. "Is that what you really think?"

"This is it!" The Commander yelled to the lines of waiting knights and soldiers. "The moment we have all been waiting for!" He drew his sword and raised it high into the air, his blond hair streaming in the growing breeze. "The moment we have fought for! Shed blood for! That some have given their lives for! The moment we have all hoped for... and dreaded!" Lowering his sword, Commander Teige began pacing his mount back and forth in front of the gathered army, all eyes following his every movement. "Malthamus thinks he can intimidate us! That by showing himself, we'll tuck tail and run, like a pack of stray dogs. Well, today, we show him he is WRONG!" As he said the last word, the unicorn he rode reared and pawed the air, causing those gathered to cheer triumphantly.

The stench of fear saturated the air, although all present tried to hide their nervousness. Not immune to the nervousness that affected the others, Nadirah ignored the speech and reached up to run the side of her finger long the smooth curve of the hyolf claw that hung around her neck. Her borrowed armor clinked softly with her movements and she longed to remove it. The large horse beneath her tossed its mane and nickered, shifting its feet as it waited anxiously for the signal to go. It too could feel the cloud of nervous eagerness that hung over the gathering.

"You are all proven fighters!" Teige continued. "You have all faced horrors beyond all imagining, faced death without hesitation, and you have all survived your trials! I am proud to fight beside each and every one of you!" Nadirah resisted the urge to snort in disdain as he passed her by. "I believe that by the end of this battle, Malthamus, King of the Undead, will be vanquished! His corpse will lie still at our feet! His reign of evil will be no more, and we will be celebrated forever as heroes!" The unicorn reared again, neighing loudly as it's hooves once more carved the air before it. "ONWARD! TO VICTORY!!"

"Victory!" Cried a chorus of ten thousand voices, followed by the thunder of charging footsteps and the clanging of heavy armor. Human stood beside ork. Wood elf exchanged cheers with high elf. Tarous and a kentaur all stood together against a common enemy, convinced that their combined might could not possiblly fail. Still cheering their victory cries, the army crested the hill that hid the battle ground from sight, and as one fell silent.

The very ground itself seemed to writhe, turned black with the crush of ghouls clustered together. Behind the ghouls stood patch-work giants and mutated horrors that were hard for the living mind to make sense of. Black-scaled wyverns patroled the skies, circling like vultures above the battle field. And resting upon a thrown of bones, sat the great necromancer himself, surrounded by his horrible creations. "Onward!" Commander Teige yelled encouragingly as he urged his mount to gallop to the front of the stunned group. "Let's show these scourge what we're made of!"

Reheartened by this show of strength, weapons were raised and battle cries were renewed as they swarmed down the hill toward the wall of ghouls. Behind the infantry, the archers remained on the top of the hill, sending a cloud of arrows to precede those on foot. The twack of arrows sinking into rotted flesh drowned out the thundering of heavy footsteps, but only a few of the struck ghouls collapsed in death. Most of them did not even give any indication that they noticed.

"Ready, Jori?" Nadirah called to the armored kentaur that galloped beside her war horse as she broke away from the rest of the fighters.

"I follow mare!" The stallion confirmed, half rearing to crush a ghoul under his front hooves.

The tarin's own battle cry echoed across the field, as much a warning to those on her own side as to the undead. Drawing her sword, she urged the horse faster, plunging into the wall of groaning, reaching bodies. She quickly became covered in ichor and putrid flesh as her blade slashed to either side, carving a path through the ghouls, the war horse trampling anything in front of it, the kentaur stallion following behind with a spear to protect her flank. The ghouls pressed in tightly and occasionally Nadirah heard the clink of their rotting teeth against the horse's armor or the metal plates covering her own legs, their claw-like fingers scratching, grasping, trying to pull her from her mount's back.

The wolf-bladed sword continued to slash and stab, dropping the ghouls out of her way, the horse continuing to kick and trample any that came within range of its flying hooves. And then finally they were breaking through the cluster of ghouls to face the reanimated monsters that could only be fathomable in the mind of the necromancer himself.

A writhing mass of arms, almost all of them wielding a small dagger, began rolling her way. Nadirah turned the horse around and moved out of its path, but it took little time for the creature to follow. It ignored the kentaur until he stabbed it to the ground with his spear, both of them charging onward and leaving the mutation for the others that were already making their way past the wall of ghouls. The doe's blade was relentless as she carved a path through the monstrosities blocking her way, friend and foe alike having reason to fear her blade. More than one casualty had been on her own side.

Malthamus was within sight and the tarin was tasting victory when suddenly her horse gave a scream and pitched forward, throwing her from the saddle. After tumbling across the ground, the doe shook her head and looked up to see her horse being set upon by a pair of patchwork giants, one of them swinging at the kentaur with a large spiked club. Weaponless, the stallion could only run and attempt to avoid the attacks.

"Pull back, Jori!" She yelled to him, her voice barely audible to her own ears. "I see Malthamus! I'm going for him!" She then turned, glaring at the great necromancer, who grinned down unpleasantly at her. One hand raised and his fingers curled in a gesture of summoning. He was taunting her! Rage flooded the warrior, infusing her with new energy. She slashed at the tendon of another giant as it was busy fighting several others, the giant bellowing as it fell. A twisted, headless form hurried toward her but a single downward slice sent the thing's two halves skittering in opposite directions. Another mostly formless creature stood in her way, hurting the doe's eyes just to look at it; the creature appearing to have been put together with random spare parts. Another slash disposed of the hellish thing and finally the pathway was clear. Nothing stood between her and the bone throne of the necromancer Malthamus.

Victory within her grasp, the tarin bared her teeth in an excited snarl and took a slow step forward, sword raised and ready for the final charge. She had just opened her mouth to emit her battle cry when she felt something grasp her waist. She looked down just in time to see a heavy chain ending wrapping around her before she was jerked backwards and off her feet. Her sword slipped from her grasp and went went clanging to the ground, immediatly lost in the tangle of fighting bodies.

The doe grunted as she was slammed harshly to the ground, but before she could get free of the chain, she felt another jerk and felt it snap against her back, sending her tumbling and rolling forward across the ground. The rolling tarin came to a stop when she slammed into the foot of a giant, moving aside just as the giant's club slammed into the ground where she had been a moment before.

Nadirah rose swiftly to her feet, but before she could move, the chain was back, this time wrapping her chest. The tarin turned her head just before the chain snapped, catching a glimpse of an animated corpse that was mostly a skeleton with a few bits of flesh still clinging to it. The skeleton held the end of the chain that was holding her back. Nadirah snarled in frustration as she struck the ground again, but again she was snapped forward by the unraveling chain before she could slip free.

"That's enough of this!" She exclaimed angrily as she rose to her feet to face her antagonizer. When the chain came again, the doe smacked it with her wrist and allowed it to wrap around her arm. Grabbing it tightly in both hands, she gave a hard yank and brought the skeleton flying toward her. Dropping the chain as the pile of bones collapsed at her feet, she stomped on its skull, crushing it beneath her large hoof.

Target destroyed, Nadirah looked around for her sword, but caught no sight of it, and was too disoriented to figure out where it had last been seen. "Pardon me." She said as she approached a fallen knight of the order laying on the gound, blood seeping past his fingers as he clutched at his wounded side. "May I borrow this?" Without waiting for a response, she plucked the battle axe from his weakened grasp and turned to face Malthalmus again.

The necromancer continued to smile smugly down at her, the steps leading to his throne littered with fresh corpses. Clutching tightly to her stolen weapon, the tarin began to decend. "Mare! Mare, no!" The kentaur stallion screamed as he caught sight of her, galloping toward the steps but finding his way blocked suddenly by a new wall of ghouls. "Mare!"

Nadirah ignored his call, continuing her slow advance, one step at a time, her fingers reaffirming their grip on the handle of the battle axe. Her eyes remained focused on the pale grinning face of the necromancer. But it was not his face she saw in her mind, replaced by an enemy much more hated.

"So... you have come, Nadirah the Wolf Caller." Malthamus said as she approached. "So good of you to join me." His smile widened to show crooked and yellowed teeth, his aged face wrinkling like paper. "I have been waiting quite some time for you."

"Why?" Nadirah growled, the corner of her mouth curling in a sneer. "What do you want with me?"

The necromancer laughed, the rattle of old wet leaves scuttling before a wind. "I have had my eye on you since you left Markhol's employ. Such a fierce, unconquerable spirit. Such desire to fight. You must be mine. Join me and know power beyond all imagining."

"Appealing offer." She replied coldly, raising the axe over her shoulder in preparation of a strike. "Let me give it some thought later, after I've killed you."

Again came the unpleasant rattling laugh before the necromancer's smile widened still further. "Ah, but it's not me you really wish to kill, is it Nadirah the Wolf Caller?"

From behind the throne stepped an ork in black plate armor, the tarin's sword in his grasp. His eyes glowed a bright yellow as they focused on her. He looked familiar but she could not quite figure out why. "Hey, cow girl." The ork sneered, solidifying the memory in Nadirah's mind. It was the trapper she had been searching for.

"Meet Grukur Bloodfang, my very first MidKnight." Malthamus announced cheerfully. "MidKnight. Rather clever isn't it? Ah, but maybe you remember him as a different name? Perhaps as..."

The tarin's lips peeled back in a feral growl, her body tensing in preparation for attack. "Rotuk" She whispered. The necromancer's words had ceased to matter and no longer reached her folded ears. All of her attention was focused on the ork and how badly she suddenly wanted to tear his smug grin right off his face with her bare hands. "You." She spoke in a near whisper, her voice cold with malice. "I was afraid I wouldn't get my chance to find you." The ork's grin only widened.

"Yes, the MidKnights will be my masterpeice. Elite warriors such as yourself. Immortal. Unbeatable. Together we shall march across this land and leave nothing living in our wake. All will bow to me, or perish. Join me, Nadirah... Join me and you will rule by my side. Anything you want will be made yours."

"I want your head." She replied, pointing to the ork. And I'll take it NOW!" Like a coiled spring, the tarin stretched out and she leapt forward, the axe swinging forward with all of her might. Grukur stood where he was, watching her come. At the last minute he threw up his arm and captured the blade in one gauntleted hand, effortlessly shoving it back and throwing the doe off balance in her surprise.

"Don't fight it, cow girl." The ork said mockingly. "Malthamus won't ask you again, and he always gets what he wants. One way or another." Blinded by fury, the doe rose quickly to her feet and charged again, aiming for his side this time, but Grukur easily parried the attack with her stolen sword. "You couldn't beat me before, cow girl. You won't beat me now, either. I'm much stronger now than you will ever be."

"STOP CALLING ME A COW!" She raged, lowering her head and attempting to gore his neck with her horns. The ork barely dodged her attack in time, causing them to scrape across the chest of his armor instead, knocking him back a step. Before he could recover, she thrust out her axe handle and slammed it against the back of one knee, sending the MidKnight tumbling onto his back, but he rolled aside as she brought down the axe blade where his head had rested mere seconds before, splintering several of the woven bones.

The ork laughed as he recovered, rising to his feet to face the tarin once again. "I see you've toughened up a little bit. You'll make an excellent MidKnight, once your under the master's control."

"The master can have me once I'm done with you!" Nadirah snapped, pulling her axe free before charging him again. The ork stood his ground as she approached, grinning at her. Reckless with the need for vengence, she swung down the axe, determined to get a hit, but when the ork's arm snapped out again, faster than she could counter, it was not the blade he grabbed but the warrior's throat.

Despite her size, the MidKnight showed no effort in lifting her by her neck, his tightening grip choking off her breath. "You never learn, do you little cow girl?" He taunted, walking to the edge of the throne and letting her dangle freely, the ground far below littered with the bodies of the fallen, both living and forsaken. "Do you see them all, girl? The master will raise them all back again. They will all become his servants, every single one of them." Grukur began to chuckle, tightening his grip even further around the doe's windpipe, ignoring her desperate scratching at his hand. "This whole world will bow before him, in reverence or in death makes no difference. And you... you will bow to me."

"Mare!" The kentaur's voice floated up to the suffocating doe, drawing her eye to the single moving figure of the grey kentaur galloping toward the steps of the necromancer's throne. "Mare! I come for you! I come!"

"Bah!" Grukur spat, waving his other hand toward the racing stallion. Several of the fallen soldiers rose to unsteady legs, jaws hanging slackly open. More and more of the recently fallen joined them, all turning to look at the approaching kentaur. "Damn pest. How is he still alive?" The stallion reared and kicked wildly at the horde of freshly risen ghouls, but they swiftly surrounded him, overwhelming him. "Mare!!" He screamed, reaching out toward the doe as if to grasp her hand from where he stood. Several of the ghouls leapt onto his back, sinking teeth into his arms and shoulders while others tore at his armor or sought his vulnerable legs. "I come...." He cried as he was knocked onto his side by the weight of the crawling, biting bodies. "For you..." Like insects, the ghouls crawled all over him, smothering, biting, clawing. "Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-deeeeeeeeeeeeeee-raaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!" The kentaur cried out before disappearing compleatly from sight beneath the writhing mass of undead.

Nadirah closed her eyes, gathering the last of her strength for one final outburst. Fighting back the weakness that numbed her limbs and the blackness gathering at the edges of her vision, slowing her thoughts, she rekindled the burning flame of anger, needing just one last burst of energy. While the ork was still distracted by the kentaur, she swung her legs up and kicked out at her tormentor, hooves catching the side of his head.

Grukur grunted and stumbled back, releasing the tarin's throat, and suddenly she could breath again. She inhaled deeply, watching as the ground sped rapidly up to meet her. "Hold on, Jori!" She cried out. "I'm coming! Hang in there for me!" She spread her arms and curled her legs, readying herself for impact. Instead, a hard jerk at her shoulders brought her to a sudden stop. Suddenly she was traveling upward, and fast, the ground falling away. The flap of leathery wings made her look up, finding herself in the grip of a wyvern.

The beast flew higher and higher with it's captured prey, but the doe was tired of being toyed with. A quick upward thrust of her head sent the tarin's horns into the wyvern's vulnerable underbelly. A sharp twist badly wounded the creature. It screamed angrily and released her. Nadirah tumbled helplessly through the air for what felt like an eternity, her arms flailing instinctively for any purchase but grasping only empty air. Impact, expected and yet surprising, was brutal, shattering even the thickest of her bones.

She tried to scream in her sudden agony, but all that came from her blood-coated lips was a tormented whimper. The world held only pain for the fallen tarin as she opened her eyes, her vision red with burst blood vessels. She tried desperately to draw in a breath, her collapsed lungs starved for oxygen, but she could not seem to inhale. All she could do was gulp at the air like a stranded fish. She tried to sit up, fighting every instinct telling her to simply give up and let death take away her pain, but her body refused to respond.

Her vision was rapidly beginning to fade when Grukur stepped into her line of sight again, still carrying her own sword. He looked over the tarin and shook his head. "You could have made this so much easier on yourself, you know." He muttered before leaning down and reaching for the hyolf claw that rested on her chest. She tried to tell him to leave it alone as he fingered it curiously, but no words came from her mouth. After a moment he snatched the necklace from her broken neck and tossed it away. "You don't deserve that mark of honor, cow." He said bitterly, his face screwing up in a snarl of disgust. "A claw is only taken when your hyolf sacrifices itself for you in battle."

Nadirah pulled back her quivering lips, barely able to retain her tenuous grip on consciousness as she strained against the blinding agony, trying to force her broken body to respond. Just one last act of insolence. One last chance to fight, to die with honor. "You.... Cow.... ard." She choked out the words, glad to see the anger rise on his features as he raised her sword, aimed at her chest. 'Peace. At last.' The doe thought silently to herself as she watched the ork's quivering arms begin their downward thrust. 'All I want is-'

The pain faded away as the blade peirced her valiant heart, her remaining breath leaving her in a sudden whoosh. 'peace.' The single word floated through her mind before her eyes closed and her life faded away.