Our remaining troops where awaiting their fate. Poised in a desparate defensive line a'fore the dungeon wall mural of the Frozen North, by Cies Glevehardt.
Wicked to the core, Rembrenten's forces, from below where eeeeeevil lurks in every decayed heart, obtained the wind gauge on this battle.
The smell of fresh blood reaked throughout the passage ways, increasing the blood lust of the denizens from hell, to continue their assault.
From above, a lone sentry heard the wails of his friends and comrads in arms. Thinking quick, he poured hell from above, in the form of molten lead ...
... upon the Tempest of Hades, Rembranten's ghostly ship of the line.
Rembranten, never giving up, fought to the death, his ninth and a half death, yet taking many many a brave troop belonging to General Cosmic Fury and Admiral King Alboin with him ....
the howling of the dead echoes in a hellish memory ... who is to say the battle is not still fought in hell by the souls gripped in the eternal struggle betwix good and evil ... No man cept those who ply the ashen fields.






Reply With Quote