A blazing flash of blue light shot across the sky just as the black clouds passed overhead. Durie jumped up with a smile on his face, and pointed to a rooftop high above.

"That’s Olaf!" He cried, and ran up the twisting alleys towards his friend as a violent wind began to rip through the streets of the Capitol. Orei followed her uncle, and was immediately chased by her honour guard. Luther trotted along after them with a smile from ear to ear, as he recognized Alun's figure bent over the side of the roof with Huldain.

Olaf, Myrian, Marius, Alun, and Huldain climbed down from the roof to see Durie and Orei running up towards them. Huldain immediately saw Mjolik by Orei's side, and gave a cry of anguish at his friend, the king's, death. Olaf saw this too, and sighed whilst Alun and Marius took in their friends' strange apparel.

Alun was the first to speak as he saw Orei. "What the hell happened to you?" He asked as he looked at the gilded armour and war hammer.

Orei pulled a face of both grief and pride as her honour guard pulled up behind her. "I am the new Queen of Doflhiem, Alun. Saurin murdered my father and imprisoned me, Luther broke us out, and I killed the Betrayer with my father's hammer."

Alun stared for a moment in shock. He took in the guards and the armour, and nodded. "I am sorry for your loss, my friend."

Myrian chipped in at this point. "I'm sorry too, but we must be gone. We have Eldar to destroy."

Orei and Durie drew their weapons which prompted the twenty highly trained Dwarven warriors to do the same. Myrian put up his hands for the second time within ten minutes, waiting for Olaf to give the Dwarves the all clear.

Olaf stepped in front of his brother, and smiled. "It’s alright, Orei. He is with us; there are larger things at work here than we had originally thought."

Orei frowned at this, and lowered her hammer. Her guards followed suit, and Alun gave a whistle.

"Well they will be handy," he said, then saw Luther and went to join him.

Olaf was already talking to Orei, Durie, Myrian, and Huldain about the plan of attack as they headed towards the church. Listening in, Alun found that it was quite straight forward; Olaf, Marius, Myrian, and Huldain were to go in first as a battering ram, whilst Orei, Durie, Luther, and Alun, with the guards, were to bring up the rear. Alun liked this plan; he didn't much enjoy hand to hand combat and with the guards close by, he would be safe and sound. The group took up a faster pace, and although it wasn't a far walk, by the time they reached the gates, Alun was sweating.

The high white walls no longer looked alluring, and Alun felt with a growing sense of dread that this could be his last resting place. Huldain smashed down the iron gates, and charged into the complex. No one resisted them as they pushed through to the heart the church’s inner sanctums, and they followed Myrian's directions until they came to a massive golden door at the centre of the Church. Even the Dwarves looked in awe at the door, and both Huldain and Olaf looked at each other before charging, weapons drawn. A large creaking snap sounded the door's end, as the small invasion force crashed into the main hall, palatial soldiers stood in ranks after ranks against them.

Now it made sense why no one had tried to stop them before.

The soldiers wore light green armour, augmented with brown, and held spears and shields with every one pointed in the companions' direction. Myrian entered first, calmly and slowly. He took aim, and the green soldiers raised their shields expecting nothing more than an arrow. Blinding yellow light shot forth, and blew away a third of the enemy forces. Olaf, Huldain, and Marius now jumped into the fray joined by Orei, Durie, and the Dwarves, who gave great war cries as they hacked and slashed at their foes. Alun and Luther were last, mopping up any survivors or wounded, with a crack from their guns. It was short work, and only a small distraction compared to the larger task at hand, but then more came, swarming in like ants protecting their nest.

Myrian continued on, occasionally letting off smaller bursts of energy to clear their path. Olaf and Huldain were on his left and right, ensuring that nothing came close. Marius followed behind, completing a diamond formation as Orei, Durie, Luther, Alun, and the Dwarves defended the rear. Myrian made his way down a small corridor with his brothers and Marius, whilst the others held the encroaching soldiers at bay. More and more came, and it seemed strange that so many soldiers would be in this one spot.

Finally, Myrian pulled up to the stairway from his memory, and Olaf felt trepidation as he followed his brother down into the depths. The first two things that Marius noticed as he followed Olaf were, firstly, that the whole Capitol was hollow underneath, and secondly, that dragons were truly massive. An enormous white wing wrapped around one wall, and Marius felt fear grip him as he tried to follow it to the body. He ran out of time – they had reached the floor of the cavern before he found the beast's monstrous torso.

Olaf looked about them, and continuously kept an eye on the dragon. It seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it. They were creeping across the floor, and he marvelled at how perfectly straight it was. A black carpet led across the cavern to an elevated podium that was the size of a small mountain. As Olaf peered up its carved slopes, he saw a large stone throne sitting at its peak. Voices rang out from the top, and he strained to listen. In a normal cavern, the voices would have echoed, but the sheer expanse of space in this one sucked up all sounds.

The four of them reached the base of the elevation, and began to sneak up the steps when suddenly a voice rang out above them.

"Hello, children," it said, and Olaf, Huldain, and Myrian froze at the memory of it. "Why don't you come up and have a little chat?"

Huldain was the first to speak. "Why would we do that? You would set your overgrown lizard on us before we said good morning."

The dragon growled somewhere in the deep depths of the cavern, and it sounded as though a huge explosion had caused an avalanche to kick start a volcano.

The voice tutted in a jovial manner. "Firstly, gentlemen," it said, "It is evening, and secondly, I would not set poor Golgoth on you just yet. Where would the excitement be in that?"

Two other voices urgently whispered to the first, and Marius knew it was Eldrikch and Serlaena. He gripped the ivory handle of his black blade, and smiled darkly at the thought of taking off the Eldar's head. Huldain obviously had the same idea as he raised his axe and smashed it against the steps. Olaf and Myrian took full advantage of this distraction, and leaped up over the rippling shock waves of their brother's attack, and charged the three Eldar. Olaf saw the lead Eldar's face: it was twisted and different from the first time he had seen it, but there was no mistaking him. Vlasmir, King of the Eldar, father of Eldrikch, stood at the ready.

The king had white robes to match his features, which were only broken up by his crimson eyes. An unusual sword was in his hands, and Olaf gawped as it came up to meet his own. The ringing vibrations of the connection were enough to throw Eldrikch off guard as Myrian landed next to him, slashing down with his knife as he came. Eldrikch's fiery glaives instantly bloomed into his hands as he blocked the attack with lightning speed. Marius joined in the attack, and sought to separate the prince's head from his body.

Serlaena hissed at the attack, and was about to strike out when Huldain smashed into her with his axe. She formed glaives of her own, and gave a spinning jump in an attempt to slice Huldain down the middle. Vlasmir's strange blade flew through air, and nicked Olaf above his left ear, causing blood to fall freely across his face. His blue tattoos shone with a deep intensity, and his eyes glowed with the same eerie light, looking directly into his enemy, exploiting any weakness.

Their blades connected again, giving Olaf a closer look at the unusual sword. It seemed to be forged out of glass, but it sang out as it sliced through the air and withheld even Olaf's strongest blows. In fact, Vlasmir's blade seemed to be chipping Olaf's, which caused alarm to bloom within him. The long blade was curved slightly like a falchion, but ended with a double edged point that quivered past Olaf's head. The handle was made from the same material, but was bound with red silk which hung from the pommel and flowed with every strike.

Serlaena cursed as Huldain's axe haft pushed her over some of the rubble he had caused with his first strike. She fell off from the incline, and smiled as she saw a white tail slither past. She hit the floor head first with a crunch, and Huldain turned away from the edge to charge at Eldrikch, who was desperately fighting Myrian and Marius simultaneously, lost were his former grace and ease.

Olaf and Vlasmir passed by, and Huldain changed target, deciding he had best help his other brother. The cries and clangs from above alerted the battling warriors below that the Dwarves had been pushed back to the stairway, and Vlasmir smiled at Olaf and Huldain, whom he was holding at bay with growing ease.

Alun looked over at Luther in horror; they had lost over half of the Dwarves, and now they were at the steps to the cavern below, they would need to retreat soon. Another crashing blow from Mjolik signalled the death of yet another soldier, but as they watched, three more took its place. Durie fought as a Dwarf possessed, but with every slicing blow from his white and gold blade, still more replaced the dead. Finally, Orei signalled a temporary defeat as they ran down the stairs, chased by the unrelenting forces behind them. Durie looked down to see Olaf and Huldain engaged with a white Eldar, whilst Myrian and Marius hacked, sliced and shot at the one in black. He felt a little hope, but instantly dismissed it as he saw the moving coils of a truly massive white dragon.

Olaf and Huldain were failing against Vlasmir, and Marius knew that Eldrikch was not tiring against his and Myrian's attacks. To make things worse, the Dwarves had regrouped at the foot of the destroyed incline, and desperately fought a growing force.

Vlasmir could be heard laughing above, and Orei began to retreat up the incline towards the battling heroes. The dragon's movements had begun to speed up, and she felt that if she only joined her other friends, all would be saved. Her Dwarves followed her, and step by step, Orei's diminishing force climbed higher and higher. Durie brought up the rear, kicking and slashing at any of soldiers that followed. Luther, Alun, and the Dwarves made it to the peak of the elevation, and stared at the exchanging moves that were on display. Cuts littered every occupant, but it was clear to see that the Eldar had the advantage.

It was at this point that a huge roar blasted through the darkness, and green flames erupted out from the darkness, melting the rock on one side of the podium into a molten river. Orei charged at Eldrikch, intending to put the Eldar down, thinking that he was distracted. It happened so quickly, that when Durie blinked he missed it: Eldrikch kicked Myrian off from the elevation, and span around to stab Orei in the heart with his fiery glaive. He then turned to see Marius bringing down Nurlin's blade with both hands, cleaving the prince from his left shoulder to his right hip, allowing the dark crown of the prince to fall from his savage brow.

Durie dropped his blade upon the floor and ran to his niece, who landed in his arms. He cradled Orei, and felt tears stream down his face as he saw blood flow from the wound. Orei opened her eyes slightly, and coughed, spraying blood across Durie's blue breastplate. She lifted an armoured hand to her uncle's face, before letting it fall, just as her body fell limp. Her eyes stared sightlessly, and Durie felt rage and anguish flare within him.

Mjolik lay in Orei's outstretched hand, and Durie rose, leaving his niece’s corpse momentarily. He picked up the war hammer, and watched Eldrikch fall to the floor. He walked over to the gurgling Eldar, and raised the hammer. He brought it down twice, turning Eldrikch's face into an unrecognizable smear across the stone floor, and bending the iron crown into a warped mess. Durie then heard the screams of Orei's men as a gigantic claw smashed into the side of the elevation, shaking it to the very foundations. The soldiers came back up the slope after that, certain in their victory.

Durie turned, and ran to Luther and Alun's aid, quickly glancing back at the other combatants. Myrian was nowhere to be seen, and Durie figured he was dead. Olaf and Huldain still fought Vlasmir, who was now showing signs of fatigue after the death of his son, and Marius stared down at Eldrikch's dead corpse before turning around and facing the towering figure of Golgoth, the white dragon. Durie jumped, and landed next to Luther and Alun, who were fighting beside the last three honour guard. Hundreds of soldiers streamed up the incline, and Durie lost all fear as he dove into their ranks with Mjolik.

Marius looked up at the towering dragon and smiled. It’s deep guttural growls shook the landscape around him, and green flames flickered at its mouth, not wanting to release yet in the event of killing its master.

Vlasmir tripped over a rock, and fell just as Huldain brought his axe into a sweeping slice and Olaf brought his blade up at the same time, slicing off Vlasmir's sword arm, causing him to spin and fall from the podium, and out of sight.

Marius's smile widened as he positioned his feet shoulder length apart, and raised his blade. Golgoth took a huge intake of breath, and Marius took aim. Vlasmir fell to the ground with a thump, and the dragon opened its mouth to lay waste to everything below. Marius ran at the beast and jumped from the podium and out into the empty space beyond, blade first. The black tip of Nurlin's blade buried itself into the vast chest of Golgoth, and slid freely through its skin as Marius began to slide down the dragon's middle. The white dragon roared, causing the cavern to shake with the vibrations. Black blood oozed from the large slit, and Golgoth began to fall forwards in pain. Marius kicked off from the beast, and left his sword buried within the dragon's gut. He rolled as he landed beside Olaf, and picked up Vlasmir's dismembered arm, wrenching the strange sword from its grip.

The dragon hit the ground, causing the podium to shudder and collapse. Olaf and Huldain ran down the incline with Luther, Alun, and Durie who were chasing the now retreating soldiers. Marius stood on the failing supports, and ran in a different direction; he watched as the ground around him fell away, and then propelled himself off the stone throne which crumbled to dust behind him.

Golgoth watched as the tiny speck of Marius came closer towards its eye; it felt blood seep from its chest and gut. Marius landed, blade first yet again upon the white dragon – this time, however, he landed upon the beast's head, and felt Vlasmir's clear blade sink into a soft part between the dragon's eyes. It screamed momentarily as the blade touched, and then fell into silence.

Marius pulled Vlasmir's blade out from the dragon's head, and looked at the curved blade in satisfaction, enjoying the way it felt in his hand when suddenly, a burning sensation ran over his skin.

The whispers of ages past flew around his skull. He cried out in alarm as purple light swirled over his arms, and a strange wind tore around him. He dropped the clear blade, and ripped at his chest, seeing the same light pulsing over his body. The light grew and grew, spreading to every inch of his flesh before dying down, and Marius looked down to see purple tattoos covering his flesh, the very same that covered Olaf, Huldain, Myrian, and Bartholomew.

...

Olaf, Huldain, Marius, Alun, Luther, and Durie sat upon the steps outside the smoking church, and watched as the soldiers they had fought spread throughout the city in retreat, telling everyone they met what had occurred.

It wouldn't be long, Olaf reflected, before the Empire of Alturine would know the truth about their Church. Most of the citizens hated it anyway, and he wouldn't be surprised if the old kingdoms resurfaced.

Alun looked at his brother and smiled slightly. Marius was still looking over his flesh at his purple tattoos. Durie occasionally looked at the cart that held his niece's body, and sighed. They had gone back down and reclaimed the fallen bodies from the destruction. Orei and the Dwarven honour guard had been laid in stone coffins, carved by Huldain, and packed into two carts, ready for transportation to Doflhiem. The Eldar and countless soldiers had been piled up and burned in the cavern next to fallen remains of Golgoth.

Only Vlasmir and Myrian's bodies could not be found. Olaf was sure that Myrian was still alive, but he was uncertain about Vlasmir's fate, which annoyed him.

Huldain stood up, and stretched. "Well," he said. "I best get back to my forge."

He looked over at Durie with sympathy, and then gave the future king a smile. "Are you coming, my friend?"

Durie gave a sad nod, and trudged over to the carts. Luther hopped up too, and lay a hand on Alun's shoulder.

"I guess this is good bye again," he said, and Alun stood up and shook his friend's hand.

"Until next time," he said, and watched as Luther jumped into the cart and set off with Huldain and Durie. Olaf stretched himself out and pulled out his pipe. Fire and crumbling mortar destroyed the church behind them, a beacon to all those that would seek power within the southern kingdoms. Yet Marius, now looking up from his glistening flesh, felt that this was but the start, he could sense now, with the absence of the church war would come.