Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-26355186-20150819063938/@comment-26355186-20150921181202

"My lord, I have failed my task". Zakrak, Bone Champion, was kneeling on top of an altar, used to convey the thoughts of lesser Hive champions to their overlords. Having felt Argus entering the fortress and them defeating both the mock-servant and the force Zakrak had sent out, the champion tasked with the defence of the fortress knew that he would be consumed for his failures. Now, he was awaiting the judgment of the Skull Zealot.

"You have not, bone champion. While the Lightwielders have entered our stronghold, there is still time to hinder their approach towards our sacred god. But I will not accept another mistake. You will destroy the Lightwielders or be reduced to ash trying." The reply gave Zakrak hope. He could finish the sect's century-long quest with one strike.

"Worry not. The Light will feel my wrath."

At the same time, the roars and screeches in the entrance of the stronghold became louder for every second, and suddenly, a horde of Thrall emerged from the depths of the foul fortress, a few Wizards flying around them to maintain control. Acolytes and Knights began to ascend the ledge, armed with daggers and short swords made of bone and rusted steel. As if it couldn't get worse, two doors opened, revealing a pair of furious Ogres. The Lightwielders would be slaughtered.