Beneath the blanket of magical fog, the Matrons of War, Magic and the Wilds watched with grim determination as the first wave of the Elven hordes charged towards the Half-Beast city. Runes resting above their eyes glowed with green light as it filtered through the fog and enhanced their vision, allowing the female Elves to see the first volley of chunks of stone and boulders fall onto their people with crystal clear clarity, cutting furrows through the advance party as the hunks of stone crushed and rolled into the Elves beneath them.

War grimaced as the second and third volley of stones plummeted through the air, turning the males into blue smears across the plains grasses, cutting the original two hundred strong horde in half within minutes. “Of course the beasts have siege weaponry.” War growled quietly, as a few more rounds of stone fell onto the remains of the horde.

The Matron of Magic nodded beside her, her unblinking gaze watching as the first horde spread out to limit the casualties and force the Half-Beasts to choose targets as they raced towards the city. “It’s a good thing that we prepared for this, isn’t it?” Magic turned to The Wilds, who had remained deathly silent since their Matriarch had been ruthlessly assassinated, and grinned at her. “Is that not right, sister?”

The Wilds returned the feral grin, and raised her head to the sky. A single rune on her throat lit up into blinding emerald light, and she barked an order to her troops. Her magically enhanced voice blasted through the plains, the echoing call bouncing off of the city’s walls seconds later.

With hoots of mingling fear and excitement, fifty Elves clutching to the backs of ten gigantic four winged owls like fleas blasted through the fog and raced towards the city, trails of the misty air following in their wake. Each of the [Dire Strigidae] carried what the Matron of Magic lovingly called her ‘blasting orbs’, large stones engraved with runes and magically charged by Wind and Earth magic. When the orbs were dropped from a significant height, the outer shell would shatter and release a highly pressurized blast of wind, turning the resulting shards of stone into deadly shrapnel that tore through flesh, wood and stone easily.

Magic couldn’t suppress a small maniacal giggle as she saw the fruits of her labor fly through the air. “Thank you, God-Ling, for giving me this idea. I’m sure that Fire would have worked better, but these little beauties should work perfectly for you and your traitorous friends.”

War spared a glance towards her sister, before snorting and turning her attention back to the battle. When the Half-Beasts noticed the [Dire Strigidae], they had sent out their own flyers, leaving a small group, along with the archers on the walls, to harass the few remaining Elves still running around on the plains, the forerunners just reaching the shadow of the city’s walls.

Battle was met in the skies above the plains, as the smaller and more agile [Night Wings] darted in and out of range of the larger [Dire Strigidae], dodging most of the thrown spears from the Elves perched on their backs. A few lucky throws caught two [Night Wings] on their large black wings, causing the massive ravens to screech in pain and plummet to the plains far below, the Half-Beast riders screaming in terror as they fell to their death.

The Half-Beasts retaliated quickly, making more daring passes on the [Dire Strigidae], aiming for the necks, wings and feet of the giant owls. One of the braver Half-Beasts directed its mount underneath one of the [Dire Strigidae], and, tossing its unwieldly lance away, leaped upwards and latched onto the talons of the owl, climbing upwards with grim resolve.

War couldn’t help but chuckle as she saw the two Elves hanging onto the legs of the [Dire Strigidae] jab at the climbing Half-Beast with their spears, dislodging the heroic creature with a spear through its skull. Her grim merriment quickly soured as one of the blasting orbs exploded with an ear-shattering crack, turning the [Dire Strigidae] carrier and the two harassing [Night Wings] into chunks of perforated meat instantly. One of the Half-Beasts had rammed their [Night Wing] into the orb, causing the outer shell to shatter and release its deadly payload.

“Those are the only orbs we have, correct?” War asked Magic as the Half-Beasts detonated a second orb, the crack echoing off of the plains.

“Yes. It took too much time to figure out the correct sequence of runes, and I didn’t have enough time to make any more before we set out.” Magic dejectedly watched as her new toys were taken out of the sky, the massive [Dire Strigidaes] being forced to wheel about in evasive maneuvers, an occasional Elf being dislodged from their perch and fall screaming onto the plains.

War grunted, before raising her head and giving the order for another wave of land bound Elves to run screaming towards the city, just as the final member of the original horde was cut down as it tried to climb up the walls.

“This is not going to plan.” War muttered to herself as the first volley of stones rained down onto the forerunners of the second horde, crushing tens of the three hundred strong breeching force. Magic and the Wilds bobbed their heads in confirmation.

“We still have the few hundred heads in reserve, besides the two full hordes of spearmen, four packs of the riders and the coven of our magicians.” Magic reminded War. “The coven also has Bo-“ Magic cut herself off with a whoop as one of the [Dire Strigidae] broke through the flock of [Night Wings] and dropped its payload onto one of the trebuchets manning the walls. The crack of the orb detonating rang over the sounds of battle, blasting the trebuchet into splinters and the Half-Beasts surrounding the siege weapon into red paste. A few shards cut into a second trebuchet, causing the wooden weapon to groan under its own weight. It prematurely launched its boulder, and with the roar of breaking wood the arm snapped in half and fell onto the defenders, crushing the Half-Beasts under its weight. Another [Dire Strigidae] broke free, and made a pass at one of the three remaining trebuchets, but was shot down by a swarm of arrows before it was able to deploy its load. The dying bird careened into the top of the wall, detonating its charge and destroying a large chunk of the stonework, blasting stone and painting the walls red with streaks of blue from the blood of the Half-Beasts and the riding Elves.

A resounding cheer broke from the remaining hordes residing in the fog, and War had to bark an order to stop some of the males from running out of the fog and into the battle. The second horde, spurred on by the success of their brothers, charged forwards with renewed vigor, screeching their battle cries into the sky.

Magic cleared her throat. “As I was saying, we have a few Bound that are ready to be sent out, including my own, whenever you think it would be prudent.” Underneath the Matron’s feet, a figure of wood and vine that they stood upon shifted and groaned, echoing the ravenous hunger that the Bound monstrosity perpetually found itself with.

War hummed to herself, before shaking her head. “Not yet, sister. We still do not know what these Half-Beasts have left. I do not want to waste our mages and their mana without assurance of victory.” Flashes of movement along the outside edges of the walls caught her attention, and she pointed them out to her sisters. “See there? They are sending out their terrestrial riders know.”

The Matrons watched as two groups of mounted Half-Beasts galloped around the city’s walls, having exited the enclosed fortifications from a different gate, and began to charge across the plains at the approaching Elven spears still under fire from the three remaining trebuchets, in an attempt to pincer the blue-skinned attackers between the Half-Beasts flashing steel and crushing bodies of their mounts. With her enhanced vision, War could notice the streaks of steam spurting out from the horses’ nostrils and the sweat gleaming off of their heaving flanks, the Half-Beasts metal armor almost blinding with the reflected light.

Noticing the Matron of the Wilds’ eyes on her, War nodded to her sister. “Send out two packs, if you please.”

The Matron nodded, and raised her head again, letting out a long keening howl break through the fog. Tapering off the primal noise, the Wilds barked once, paused for a moment, and then barked twice again in quick succession before releasing another howl.

Through the fog, another feral voice joined into the mournful yet terrifying call, others calling out as thirty two deep brown blurs broke through the wall of fog and raced into the plains.

The [Kanids] were large, wolf like creatures corrupted by different forces of magic acting on them as young pups, and when fully grown the large beasts could stare one of the Half-Beast’s horses in the eyes. Twin tusks erupted from the corners of their jaws, curling inwards and encircling the two rows of sharp teeth. Two sets of eyes, a smaller set resting above the larger primary eyes, glowed with ruby light and left light trails behind them as they ran. Mottled brown and green fur shifted from the taught cords of muscle hidden underneath, and the long whip like tail hung perpendicular to the ground flashing by underneath. The Matron of the Wilds had personally bred these beasts of war since they were pups, and the [Kanids] were fiercely loyal to her, their Alpha.

Strapped to their backs by the legs, a single Elf clutched onto the [Kanids’] fur, two quivers of spears on either side of the wolf’s back in easy reach of the rider. The Elves were adorned with the bones of their and their beasts kills, skulls and ribs providing light but sturdy armor, and the carved runes glowed cheerily as the Elves spurred their beasts onwards with bloodcurdling cries. One of the Half-Beast cavalry units broke off from their charge at the spearmen, and began to race across the plains towards the two packs, twenty armored horses versus the full weight of two packs of blood crazed monsters.

Before the two mounted forces could meet, the other unit of cavalry collided with the Elven spears with a crash of metal and bone, crushing and cutting a swathe through the horde before their forward charge was stopped by the press of Elven bodies. Screams of pain were quickly cut off with cries of rage as the Elves turned their spears on their attackers, and began to stab at the armored cavalry with abandon.

War sighed as she saw the Half-Beasts notice their mistake, and attempted to extricate themselves from the horde. “Are they really that unintelligent? If they hadn’t split, they might have been able to survive.” The Elven spears had already surrounded the Half-Beasts, dragging the armored riders off of their horses and crushing them below the stamping feet of the Elves and a hail of blows. War turned to watch as the two mounted troops slammed into each other, the screams and baying howls of dying monsters echoing across the plains as the two forces began to tear into each other.

Magic, though, was staring at the remaining Half-Beasts on their mounts with a frown on her face. One of the riders had caught her eyes, and she gasped. “Mage!”

War snapped her attention back to the surrounded cavalry just as a torrent of yellow-white flames erupted from one of the Half-Beasts, and screams of mind numbing pain were quickly silenced as the flames raced down the Elven throats and turned their lungs to ash. The flames arced back and forth, scorching scores of Elves to blackened husks before one Elf was lucky enough to bring down the magical Half-Beast, leaving a third of the hordes original number to continue their attack on the city’s walls, badly burnt they may be.

“Blasted hells.” War cursed as she saw the remaining three trebuchets resuming their bombardment on the Elven footmen, the cavalry and [Kanid] riders tearing each other apart, and the remaining [Dire Strigidae] slowly being pushed away from the city by the quick [Night Wings] darting back and forth around the massive owls. With a snarl, War reached to her back and yanked one of her spears from its leather sheath. “Change of plans, Sisters. We’re ending this. Now.”

“Finally.” The Matron of the Wilds spoke, the first time since the Matriarch had been assassinated. A bloodthirsty grin grew on her normally placid face, and a manic light glinted deeply from her eyes. “I was beginning to think that we would never be able to start.”

Magic giggled, and with a flick of her wrist a small wooden wand appeared in her hand. The wood appeared to pulse and twist in her grasp, as if a wild beast was trapped within the wooden cage and was struggling to escape. A trickle of black shadows trailed from the wand’s tip, staining the white of the foggy surroundings in its light-stealing depths as it slowly drifted to the ground.

The three Matrons each took a deep breath, and cried out in concert, the magical runes along their throats glowing with a blinding light. A sonic blast exploded from their lungs and crashed across the plains, boring a hole through the impenetrable wall of fog and bathing the Matrons in the light of the sun. Cutting off their cry, the Matrons dispersed back into the fog to move to their troops.

The blast raced towards the city, knocking some of the unprepared [Night-Wings] out of the sky with its strength as the sonic boom carried past the airborne fighters and broke across the walls of the Half-Beast city, causing some pieces of stone to break free and rain down onto the plains below.

As the echoing cry carried back to the wall of fog, hundreds of Elves, beasts and monsters raised their voices for their Matrons. The ground shook beneath their cries, bellows and shrieks, and as a single unstoppable wave, the Elves assumed a full attack on the Half-Beast city.

The fog of war began to dissipate, and from its wispy grasp the forerunners of the Elven war machine emerged with the strength of an avalanche, the speed of a tsunami and the rage of a hurricane. Stone constructs rumbled and crashed over the plains beside the flowing water elementals, while semi-corporeal shapes flitted in the skies above. All manner of beasts and monsters were seen in the ten different Bound creatures, symbolizing their Elven masters’ most vibrant and dark imaginings.

Behind the vanguard of Bound creations, a true monstrosity began to emerge. A wriggling mass of tendril like vines pulsed and undulated along the ground. The vines dug into the soft soil of the plains, and dragged the wooden husk of a deformed tree behind them, creating a deep furrow in the earth. Vines wrapped around the husk like veins, burrowing into the dead bark before emerging back into the air, spraying splinters. The wood groaned as segments were torn out of it, being replaced with the writhing vines.

Another groan came from the monstrosity, and the vines seemed to pulse and wave frantically as the wooden husk rose from the earth, being held aloft by a writhing bed of vines. The wooden husk cracked and splintered, breaking underneath its own weight. Chunks broke free from the side of the tree facing the city, leaving jagged black holes in its façade, a massive tear that reached half way across the trunk and two smaller holes resting above.

The husk froze for a moment, the vines calming their undulations, before it slowly leaned forwards. Deep emerald light grew from the top two holes, glowing with animalistic rage. The bottom tear drew into a hungering smile as the ‘eyes’ above gazed upon the city. Standing on top of one of the decaying branches, the Matron of Magic patted the husk of wood, sending her thoughts and wishes into the vines beneath. “Attack. Feast.”

With a bellowing groan, the Bound [Ent] charged forwards, kicking up chunks of dirt and grasses as the hundreds of vines burrowed into the ground and dragged the monster onwards. Darting over and around the heaving mass of vines, the two remaining packs of [Kanids] passed the [Ent] in a flurry of brown fur and snapping jaws, the Matron of the Wilds leading the charge on the massive form of her [Beta Kanid], a larger and far more aggressive breed than the rest of the packs, quickly overtaking the slower Bound and taking the lead of the attacking Elven forces. The rest of the Elves, five hundred male spears and the twenty female mages, sprinted along the sides of the massive Bound [Ent].

The Matron of War bound across the plains, her breath coming in even controlled bursts as her legs ate up the ground between her forces and the walled city. The horrible stench of metallic blood and evacuated bowels hit her keen senses like a wave, and War could feel her pulse start to pick up, a pounding drum in her head as her blood began to race through her body in excitement.

With a warbling cry, three of the Air Bound broke off from the other two, and began to crash against the [Night Wings] still flying around the [Dire Strigidae], talons, claws and fangs of cutting winds slicing through the wings of the large ravens with ease. Dozens of bodies, both aviary and humanoid, rained down onto the plains, and the two remaining [Dire Strigidae] began to arc back towards the city below, releasing their explosive payloads onto the siege weaponry along the walls, splinters and bloody pieces bursting and painting the stones with red.

The Matron of the Wilds led her packs into the remaining Half-Beast cavalry that was still in fierce combat with the two original packs. Each side had suffered casualties, the [Kanid] numbers being crushed underneath the stronger and more heavily armored knights, but their ferocity and tenacity had kept the cavalry held still until help had arrived. And with a flurry of crushing bones and snapping jaws, the Matron of the Wilds had crashed into the Half-Beasts, her [Kanids] weaving in between their pack-mates like water through cracks in stone, and crashed into the cavalry with primal fury. Within moments, the Half-Beasts had been butchered to the last, and the Wilds wheeled the [Kanids] around to charge the final defenses the Half-Beasts had thrown against them.

Bloodied and beaten, the remaining Half-Beasts fighting the final Elven males caught in the plains attempted to break off and retreat to their city, but the thirty or so remaining members of the horde attacked with a renewed ferocity, tearing into the mounted forces with spear, tooth and claw. It was a bloody struggle, the screams of dying Elf, Half-Beast and horse echoing back and forth through the skirmish, before the Matron of the Wilds and her [Kanids] slammed into the cavalry’s flanks like a master blacksmith hammering a stubborn piece of metal.

The Matron of War watched this all happen, and could not help her now permanent grin from growing into a bloodthirsty smile. The final resistances were crumbling before them, and, as she saw the Bound begin to reach the shadow of the city, soon the Half-Beasts cowering behind the relative safety of their walls would feel the sting of the Elven spears.

The Bound Water creatures reached the stone embankment first, surging upwards along the walls like a tidal wave. Surges of fire and beams of light began to strike at the Bound from the defenders, and they were able to quickly decimate one of the Bound as it flowed upwards over the walls. The two remaining Bound Water monsters broke across the bulwark and began to decimate the Half-Beasts, the Bound in the shape of a massive blue turtle that had two bone protrusions poking out the top of its shell blasted most of the Half-Beasts off of the walls with pressurized jets of water, while the other, an amorphous blob of sentient liquid, simply absorbed as many Half-Beasts as possible and held them within its liquid body, drowning the struggling humanoids in its turbulent waters.

As the first bodies of the Half-Beasts fell from the walls, the of four Earth constructions slammed into the walls underneath their two Bound brethren, dislodging stones to fall in a rocky rain onto the Bound, the screams of dislodged Half-Beasts cutting off with diluted crunches of broken bodies and bones.

The four Bound began to tear and pummel the wall, the very earth shaking as the four large monsters struggled to break through the obstacle in the path their masters had placed upon them. An occasional blade or blast of pressurized air slammed into the Bound at the bottom of the walls, a testament to the determination of the Half-Beast defenders, and would cut furrows through their rocky flesh before the two rampaging Bound Water constructs returned the favor with their own magical payload.

And then, with a series of cracks so loud it left most of the combatant’s ears ringing, the portion of the wall under the gentle caresses of the Bound began to break apart and tumble down. Segments of stone ranging from size of a child to that of the [Dire Strigidae] flying above fell onto the Earth Bound below, crushing and burying the constructs underneath they’re weight. A massive cloud of dust and shards of stone billowed into being, obscuring the broken wall from view.

The Matron of Magic, however, would not be dissuaded by something as simple as the obstructing cloud of dust and debris. With a manic cry of glee and the hungering groan of her pet monster, the Elf drove her Bound [Ent] into the billowing cloud. Screams and the sharp retorts of shattering wood and bone broke across the rumble of settling stone, and the Matron of War hissed in anger at her sister’s bloodlust. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

Taking a moment to concentrate, War pulled a hand backwards and then thrust it towards the obscuring dust cloud, letting a primal shriek loose between her needle sharp teeth. A torrent of wind burst forth from her hand and slammed into the cloud, boring a hole through the dust and revealing the Bound [Ent] crawling over the remains of the wall. Snakelike vines darted back and forth, scouring the stone and rubble as the vines dragged the tree’s carcass through the breach. A few of the Half-Beasts were flung over the monster’s body in pieces as the vines at the front of the monster whipped into them and broke the Half-Beasts like dolls.

Movement atop the unbroken segments of the wall caught War’s attention, and reacting on instinct, the female Elf spun and threw her spear at a robed Half-Beast that had swirls of orange flame daqncing around their body.

With a crack of displaced air, the spear lept from her hand and almost instantly found its new home in the torso of the Half-Beast, the force of the blow sending the mage sailing through the air, dead as soon as the spear pierced their heart.

Without breaking her stride, the Matron of War reached back and pulled another spear from her holster, and began to nimbly climb through the rubble of the wall, jumping from one large slab of stone to another. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her horde following suit, and the remaining [Kanids] bounding towards the walls, their maws and claws bloody from the fight with the cavalry.

A screech, swiftly accompanied by the thump of pressurized air being released within the city, alerted War that one of the remaining two [Dire Strigidae] had just dropped their payload within the city’s walls. The Matron’s bloodthirsty grin grew into a demented smile, and the Elf began to laugh to herself as she took the final leap off of the debris and launched herself into the city, the edges of her vision bleeding out to pulsing blackness as her hunger for combat began to take over her sanity.

A single glimpse, and she already knew that the battle would soon be over. Blood and viscera painted the cobbled streets liberally, and destroyed buildings marked the path of the Bound [Ent] as it ravaged its way through the defenders. In the distance, smoke and flames had sprung up from the blast zone of one of the Matron of Magic’s blasting orbs, the [Dire Strigidae] swinging low to drop off its Elven riders and ‘pick up’ a talonful of the Half-Beasts that had survived the blast, with the second [Dire Strigidae] swooping low in front of the Matron of Magic’s Bound and releasing its payload, turning the defenders into bloody paste.

And then War’s thinking mind knew no more. The animal within smelled the heavenly and disgusting aroma of blood and scat, and the pulsing blackness along the edges of the Matron of War’s vision slammed closed, and the Elf lost herself to the death-filled darkness.

____________________________________________________________________________

Darkness. That was all that she knew, all that she had known, and she was content. For a moment and a millennia, she floated through the inky black, not a thought passing through her mind as the weight of the dark settled over her like a blanket.

And through this darkness, noise started to appear. Two beats, one steady and strong, and the other a quick staccato of strikes, ebbed and flowed through the black like waves, the steady beating of her heart and something… else.

“Stop.. You… Now...”

Words, something that she once knew, bubbled up and burst through the darkness. Where they passed, the words swiped through the shadows like a cloth, leaving a foggy view of somewhere else. Somewhere she was just a moment, a lifetime, ago.

The smothering darkness pulled and prodded at her, whispering sweet nothings into her ears as they dragged her back into the depths. The steady beats lulled her mind, smothering the streaks of color in their dark grasp.

“Come… Back… NOW!”

The words, a roar through her mind, shattered the darkness into a spider web of cracks. And through those cracks, the light began to press back the darkness. The words grew in volume, the twin beats growing in speed and fervor.

“Lianne.”

And with that one word, a quiet, whispered word, the darkness broke. The light surged forwards, wrapping her up into its embrace and shepherding her into a world filled with color, scent and sound, of blood and screams, shattered buildings and broken bones.

The Matron of War gasped and wretched, heaving her stomach onto the bloodied cobblestone road. Again and again War heaved, her stomach twisting in on itself as the final vestiges of her berserker stage left her.

Gasping for breath, the Matron of War, Lianne, felt a filled leather water skin thrust into her hand, and the Elf greedily drank from it, the rush of lukewarm water rushing through her system. For a few moments, the water was the only thing that Lianne noticed, drawing from the skin over and over until it collapsed into itself, the last drop falling onto her parched tongue.

Sighing in relief, Lianne returned the empty skin to the Matron of the Wilds who had given it to her, and looked around. The three Matrons, along with a handful of mages, two hands of Elfen spears and the Matron of the Wild’s [Beta Kanid], were standing in front of the largest building in the city, grand in its gaudy splendor. The metal door to the building was breaking in on itself, a single point seemingly to have imploded without breaking the wood itself. War glanced downward, and hissed as she saw the state of her hand, mangled and bloody from repeatedly pounding into the obstacle. “So that’s what the other pounding noise was…”

Behind them, the city was in flames. Braying calls from the hundreds of Elven spearmen and [Kanids] running rampant through the streets mixed with the screaming of the dying Half-Beasts provided a dread-filled backdrop to the roving Bound, the large gelatinous Water Bound rolling around haphazardly while the Matron of Magic’s [Ent] could be seen cutting a swathe through flesh and stone with ease.

Lianne’s analytical mind took this all within a moment, and she turned her attention back to the metal door, unconsciously wrapping her mangled hand in a sheet of linen pulled from her Inventory.

“So, this is it?”

The Matron of Magic, bloody and slightly worse for wear from the fighting, nodded, twirling around a wand that leaked liquid darkness out of its tip, the shadows trailing purple flames that sputtered and spit at the world in barely constrained anger. “We believe so. The rest of the city has fallen. The last Half-Beast defenders, including their ‘king’, are supposedly in here.”

The Matron of War grunted, and gestured at the door with her uninjured hand. “Let us end this, sisters.”

The Matron of Magic grinned, and pointed the magically charged wand at the obstructing door. “Finally, I can test this thing.” Giggling to herself, Magic twisted and flicked the wand at the door.

With a hate filled roar, violet flames erupted from the small wooden instrument and slammed into the metal door with the force of a volcano. Tendrils of shadow lanced outwards and inwards, hammering into the metal door as the molten fire instantly turned the entire door red hot, the metal beginning to melt.

The Matron of Magic gritted her teeth, the pushback from the magical weapon sending her sliding back a few centimeters, the wand vibrating in her hand violently. Through the roar of flames, the sharp retort of breaking wood was barely audible, but it was loud enough for the Matrons to hear. Her face paling, Magic cursed to herself and jerked the wand upwards and out of her hands, sending the stick of wood, still releasing its magical payload, skyward.

A tremendous explosion of hungering purple flames and twisting shadows broke free from the wand as it reached the apex of its flight, the shockwave shattering glass within the large building and slamming the Elves into the dirt with its strength. Liquid fire rained down around the Elves, landing on two of the force, causing them to scream and writhe on the ground before they were put out.

Lianne drew herself to her feet with a groan, her head ringing from the blast. Sparing a glare at the sheepishly grinning Matron of Magic, the Matron of War raised her head and barked a resounding order to her hordes to continue what they were doing and to not come forwards.

Turning her gaze back on Magic, Lianne growled at her sister. “What have we told you about experimenting with new magic in a live fight?”

Magic’s grin fell, and she shook her head to get rid of the annoying ringing in her ears. “Yeah yeah, I know. But hey, the doors open.” Lianne followed her sisters raised finger, and saw that, indeed, the door was open. If you classified that the door was just molten slag on the cobblestones, with only small pieces still attached to the frames, as open.

Lianne grunted, and jumped over the molten pool of metal. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.” The Matron of War led her troops into the depths of the building, past plush rugs and suits of shining armor. A few minutes later of wandering, the Matron of the Wilds and her pet pushed ahead of the group, the large wolf sniffing at the ground as it followed the scents of the Half-Beasts deeper and deeper into the keep.

Soon, the Elves were standing in front of a wooden door, engraved with expert craftsmanship of depictions of the Half-Beasts flaunting their own ego’s, of brave knights slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. Lianne despised those depictions.

“They are in there. Floofy can smell their fear.” The Matron of the Wilds quiet whisper was barely audible over the growls coming from her [Beta Kanid].

Magic blinked, and shot a glance at her sister. “You named him ‘Floofy?’”

The quite Matron nodded, and before the Magic could respond, Lianne sighed loudly and brushed past the [Kanid]. “Talk about it later, it’s killing time.”

With those words, the Matron of War raised one of her feet and slammed it into the door. The wooden door, unable to refuse such a courteous way of entering, sprung open and slammed into the walls, barely hanging on by its hinges, and the Elven war party stalked into the room behind the door.

A long hallway greeted the Elves, a long red carpet leading past twenty some odd Half-Beasts in shiny metal armor, past three Half-Beast women dressed in beautiful gowns, and stopping at the foot of a stone throne.

Perched on the throne, both hands grasping onto the armrests so tightly that it caused cracks to appear in the stone, was their target, the one who had orchestrated the assassination of their Matriarch. The ‘Alpha’ of the Half-Beasts, Lyrus Proudroar.

Lianne turned her head slightly, never taking her eyes off of the traitor. “Close the door, and guard it with your lives.”

“Yes, Matron.” The Elven spears, and one of the mages, walked back through the destroyed doorway, and a sheet of crystalline white ice formed to cover the breach, sealing the Half-Beasts in with the Elven Matrons and their coven.

Taking a deep breath, Lianne began to walk forward, her sisters and fellow Elves falling in step behind her, her berserker rage building with each beat of her heart, each step taking her closer and closer to losing control again.

Fighting back her instincts, the Matron of War stopped about half way to the first row of Half-Beast guards. Slowly raising her uninjured hand to her back, Lianne pulled a spear from its holster and pointed it at the Half-Beast ruler.

“Lyrus Proudroar.” Lianne bellowed out, the rune on her throat flashing in the light of the candles burning throughout the hall, and the light streaming in from the stained glass window behind the Half-Lion. “For the atrocity you and your kin have taken against me and mine, for the betrayal of our trust and hospitality, and for the assassination of our great Matriarch, we, the Matrons of the High Elves of the Dark Woods, in lieu of the Matriarch of the High Elves of the Dark Woods, sentence you to dea-“

Lianne wasn’t able to finish her ruling, as a titanic explosion rocked the keep from the frozen doorway. The icy barrier shattered and melted instantaneously, violet and black flames bursting through the ice with the roar of a dragon. The force of the blast through the hall threw every being standing backwards, and both Elves and Half-Beasts landed hard on their backs and stomachs. Billowing black clouds of smoke instantly obscured the doorway, and the crackling of hungry flames was the only sound in the hall.

And then, through the fire and the flames, voices broke through.

“… and I’m telling you, there is no fucking way that they are going to be here. What, are they going to be doing a monologue or something? ‘Oh foul Beast-Kin, though hart taken our queen and we shalt strike thee down.’ Bullshit.”

The first voice was high and musical, even through the vulgar language. A chuckle, decidedly male, followed after.

“Alright, a bet’s a bet. Let’s see who was right.”

A gale force wind broke through the smoke, revealing seven beings stepping through the obliterated doorway and over the charred remains of the Elves left to defend it.

‘Beings’ was the most apt description that Lianne could form as her gaze darted back and forth between the new comers.

Her eyes first latched onto the abomination. A large bulbous body floated above the ground, four glowing purple eyes stared at those in the room with undisguised interest, and hunger. A massive mouth, filled with large jagged teeth, seemed to make up a large portion of the lower part of the body, while underneath slimy tentacles undulated and squirmed through the air. The monster turned to stare at Lianne, and winked the right pair of eyes at her, its massive maw forming into a hungry smile.

The next monster that caught her attention was massive, a hulking blue figure clad in black armor gilded with gold. It’s feet were more akin to that of a furless wolf with four short claws poking out of its blue skin. It carried two massive halberds in its hands, red flames running up and down along the blades, and it stared with disdain on the Half-Beasts and Elves groveling on the ground before it from beneath its horned helmet.

One being, a small flame wreathed creature with large floppy ears and a hungry smile, was perched on the shoulder of the most striking and beautiful creature that Lianne had ever laid eyes upon. A body built for sin, and definitely female, the figure had long luscious black hair ringing a perfectly shaped angular face. The light purple skin accentuated her glowing blue eyes. A generous chest was pushed upwards by a small metal bodice, giving tantalizing glimpses of her breasts. Wide hips gently wrapped in a tiny metal thong showed off her long legs, and the cloven hoofs that served as her feet. Large leather wings beat occasionally behind her, and a leather whip dangled from her hand. Noticing all of the eyes on her, the figure smirked and twisted, giving a generous view of her bubbly posterior. Reaching a hand backwards, she gave herself a loud slap on the behind, and moaned seductively.

Before all of the Elves and Half-Beasts could be drawn into the seduction of the female figure, the second female of the interlopers groaned and clutched her sun-tanned head. “Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously?!”

Open laughter drew all eyes to the final figure, and the Matrons’ sharp intakes of breath told Lianne that she wasn’t the only one to recognize him.

Hazel eyes underneath a mop of short dirty blonde hair stared at those gathered with humor, a wide smile on his face as he clapped his hands.

“Thank you guys for being so predictable. I just got a date with a succubus due to you and your clichés. So, I just have one question to ask of you all.”

Raising a hand, the God-ling, the Mageous, and the Agent of Change Jake Roshaven snapped his fingers, violet flames surged up around him and bathing him in their light, shadows leapt up from the recesses of the room and wrapped him in their gentle embrace and a surge of wind danced around him, billowing out the robes that he wore.

“Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?” Jake grinned as the massive fox at his side growled, flurries of ice caked the ground as his five tails swished back and forth. Jake paused for a second, then frowned. “Damn. No one’s going to get that reference.” Shrugging, he turned back to the assembled races. “Oh well. It means I’m going to kill you all.”