Prologue
Prologue
In the far reaches of hell, deep within the Mountain of Skulls an evil force of unnatural origin know as the Unholy addresses his chief demonic lords and commanders. The Lord of Darkness, the ruler Supreme, hisses in agitation and all around him falls to silence.
"You...have. ..failed. ..me!" His anger blazes behind the red orbs of his eyes. His voice is a guttural, inhuman sound--at once the sound of a rocky avalanche and the sneer of unbounded arrogance. These worms...these slugs...are a pestilence that you allow to flourish through your laziness."
"My lord, the Horde advances..." Salome, a female human who has sold her soul to the demon Horde, makes a grave mistake. She has interrupted the avalanche and is now staring, waiting in fear for it to blow over her and carry it away. Lord Lesion, High Lord of the Host and Salome's master silences her with an evil stare, but too late as a psionic fueled blast of fire takes her full in the chest, knocking her cart wheeling backwards to slide to a grinding halt just short of the far wall.
"THE ADVANCE IS TOO SLOW!!" the unholy shouts with spittle flying from his mouth spraying those closest to him. He peers around at the remaining followers as if daring one of them to interrupt him again. "Therefore, I have decided that only one of you shall be by my side to rule this world. The rest of you will be food for my Horde. Which one of you will stand beside me at the end? His voice is like two slabs of icy granite grinding each other to dust. "Go now and prove that you deserve the breath I so graciously grant you. Advance our armies and crush the pustules that inhabit My world!" A triumphant shout is raised by everyone in the hall as the Lord of Darkness, the Unholy raises his fist in celebration of the victory that awaits him.
"You...have. ..failed. ..me!" His anger blazes behind the red orbs of his eyes. His voice is a guttural, inhuman sound--at once the sound of a rocky avalanche and the sneer of unbounded arrogance. These worms...these slugs...are a pestilence that you allow to flourish through your laziness."
"My lord, the Horde advances..." Salome, a female human who has sold her soul to the demon Horde, makes a grave mistake. She has interrupted the avalanche and is now staring, waiting in fear for it to blow over her and carry it away. Lord Lesion, High Lord of the Host and Salome's master silences her with an evil stare, but too late as a psionic fueled blast of fire takes her full in the chest, knocking her cart wheeling backwards to slide to a grinding halt just short of the far wall.
"THE ADVANCE IS TOO SLOW!!" the unholy shouts with spittle flying from his mouth spraying those closest to him. He peers around at the remaining followers as if daring one of them to interrupt him again. "Therefore, I have decided that only one of you shall be by my side to rule this world. The rest of you will be food for my Horde. Which one of you will stand beside me at the end? His voice is like two slabs of icy granite grinding each other to dust. "Go now and prove that you deserve the breath I so graciously grant you. Advance our armies and crush the pustules that inhabit My world!" A triumphant shout is raised by everyone in the hall as the Lord of Darkness, the Unholy raises his fist in celebration of the victory that awaits him.
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