[1000yd_stare]

My Prince stands on a high mount, buffetted by the winds. Above him, the prize he seeks, and so richly deserves. Below, the abyss he emerged from, which did not let him go lightly.
It has been two months since I Last spoke in this tongue. Ask not why my voice is so raspy nor my breath foul; you do not wish to know of what I eat in my Prince's barren domain.
The frozen giants have been evicted from the Malachakan home; they promptly returned and dug siege lines around it. Do they think to starve my Prince's troops out? Even as they sit, the force inside grows. The shadows of my Prince will move among them, soon enough. The taking of the castle was a trival matter, as it happened on the same month that saw the Mariginon pretender die. More than three hundred of my Prince's brainseekers ringed the home of the Inquisitors; fully a third of them were horsed, and they were honored to lead the advance. They leapt through the gate, brushing aside the milita and a few odd humans with over-long spears; then they dealt with the crossbowmen. Outside, great holes were rent in the sea of undead. The Inquisitors had learned the rites of Banishment well, and although our Prince casted his own sorcerous protections and burned the minds and bodies of the enemy, he could not stop them all. Fully half of the army perished before entering the castle grounds.
Once there, they were greeted with a strange sight. A disembodied head, wreathed in flame, gouted fire at my Prince's minions, melting them were they stood. Those that were left struck the apparition, to see their tiny weapons inflict the barest scratches before they too were engulfed in the inferno. Relentlessly, the minions attacked, walking into a caludron of flame to hopefully scratch the pretender with thier rusted arms. Finally, the head gave a great moan of dispair, something I have grown accustomed to hearing, and disappeared.
But there was no rest for us.
Abysia stirred, perhaps by the entreaties of the Inquisitors. The smoky presence of a hundredfold army has just now penetrated into my Prince's domain. The hotones seek battle, but before we grant his wish, we will draw him in a bit more...make him hunger a bit more...make him weaker a bit more... make them come to my Prince a bit faster.

What of the land beyond the Barrier Mountains? Of the bitter fight under the seas, something my Prince calls 'Rommels show?' Of the death of the frost giants king? These I will speak of another time. For my Prince has learned that we can help more directly with his armies. He wishes us to swell the depleted ranks with those corrupted humans who still hunger. I must go, and deal with them- oh how I long for my days of reading the tomes...