Prologue part 1: The Night Before the battle
Major Set’gal, a K’iou Vampire, is the bulldog of General Brakus. He is sent on special assignments that aren’t pretty but need to get done. A brawler more then a thinker Set’gal got promoted due to his kill count in battles rather then brilliant tactics. Favoring the straight forward approach has gained a reputation which is feared by many even in the military. If a rogue zombie lord is abusing his power over zombies, or a thrall is abusing the living Major Set’gal is sent to quickly resolve the matter generally resulting in the death of the offender. Major Set’gal holds a major grudge against the Scarlet Hammer and proudly displays the heads of several which he killed in his office. He uses a Scarlet Hammer as his main weapon as he loves to see his victims explode in gore with the repeated hammer strikes.
Major Set’gal of Wintermute was an ornery K’iou vampire on a normal day, now with having General Brakus sending him to the Goblin Lands and told that he had to walk across the sea floor made him extra ornery. He placed the Neliff Jammer in his ear and ordered the rest of his army to do so…not that he expected the Skeletons actually needed them as they had no brains to be controlled but the Herald used the vast majority of his budget for the Goblin Lands to purchase them so he had been very emphatic about them being used.
As Wintermute was a land locked kingdom they didn’t possess a navy, nor did they really possess much of an air force aside of a few airships designed more for transport then combat. Besides according to his information the enemy had the sea and air under their control so any naval or air force would be a waste. Thankfully Neither the Set’gal nor the vast majority of his army actually needed to breathe so beneath the ocean wouldn’t be much of a problem and the few Reanimators that had been deployed had been given artifacts which allowed them to breathe under water for this mission.
To draw less attention the forces from Wintermute would move during the night and then allow the battle to start before moving into the water. They avoided large patrols of Red Furs and Warmonger’s Dead that seemed endemic to the southern Goblin Lands.
As they watched the sun set over the bay of Holys they were amazed by the beauty. The Crimson Tower stood lofty and proud above the Island Fortress that also acted as Factory and the current Tomb of the once powerful necromancer and nightmare surgeon known as Holys of the line of Vul.
Set’gal wondered at the power hidden in the island fortress that dominated the bay. For the past year it had been held proudly by the Redeemers of Unit 817. They had held firm against Dead Unit’s attempts to retake the fortress, against tomb raiders and tomb robbers and even a small vampyr army. Each time they had succeeded. But it had been the Redeemers first real victory against the Armies of Ceroj the Red that had cemented their hold of this region.
On the coast behind the island, Set’gal could see the burgeoning City of New Holys. It was beautiful in the light of the setting sun, and how it stood across the painted sky. Set’gal wondered if he should reach out to the Redeemers after the battle. An alliance between this New Holys and the Shadow Dome of Wintermute…err…Karov, would be a benefit to the entire region. And it would allow him to personally flex his muscles with his army.
Meanwhile aboard the Heavy Frigates of the Cult fleet, Grizool Grizane sat in front of a pair of chained down Pelebor. Both Pelebor bore the animal headed hands of a Poison Claw Clan member, but neither had lost their Pelebor curse.
One opened his eyes and yelled to the top of his lungs before turning and biting out the throat of the other. As the spasms of rage passed the Pelebor who was still living looked up at Grizane and said,
“Archwing Pelos must be told, the armies of Undead of Wintermute come this way. They march at night and the memories of their leader Set’gal tell me that they will sneak under our ships during the height of battle. They will grapple up to our vessels and set explosives.”
Grizane loved having Pelebor among his crew that he could force to extract memories from the minds of enemy commanding officers. It was the main reason both the Poison Claw Clan and the Warmonger Cult had evaded every nation hunting them. And now in the hours of evening before the attack, Grizane had rooms like this set up on every ship in the fleet. All day and now all night the two selected Pelebor in each room would search the stream of conscious and deliver what they found. The quicker one lived, the slower one died, so it was a competition.
Grizane muttered, “Rez the slower one, and give them both some water and rations and set them up for the next round. I want to know the plans of the Redeemers before the morning light shines upon us.”
Then he turned to Neliff the Messenger and said, “Neliff warn all crew to be ready to go airborne at a moments notice. We will give them our frigates if we take the Island, it will be an easy trade.”
Neliff the Messenger said, “We will do so. Neliff the Orthodox also wishes Neliff to impart that the Pelebor have discovered the EEFer plans. The EEFers informal forces will set up a mine field in the water, and release explosive balloons in the air and begin sniping our commanding officers. And their formal Submarines will be at stand off distances and firing torpedoes and cruise missiles. The cruise missiles into a sky filled with exploding balloons, and the torpedoes into their own mindfields?”
Grizane smiled, “A brilliant plan, I wonder if their Wintermute allies are aware of it?”
“Considering they will be grappeling up through the torpedo laced minefield… Neliff doubts that conversation ever went on,” said Neliff the Messenger with reason.
“Tell Neliff the Orthodox I would like him…her…Neliff? To leave the frigate with some Neliff, go to the area where the EEF Subs are heading, go submerged and take their vessels from them,” said Grizane, “I love the Pelebor curse, I mean unless you really dislike murder and gore, is it really even a curse?”