The Sack of Calth

Epilogue

Chapter Twenty-Six: Sons of Calth

Chapter Twenty-Five: Crossroads of Fate

Chapter Twenty Four: The Storm has past

Grey smoke blew across the Vineyard of the Ventris House, rolling over the broken bodies of both Easterling and Gondorian alike. Torn Easterling banners fluttered lazily in the wind, they’re carriers dead beside them, some clutching tight to the poles. The Easterlings were shown no mercy; those who begged simply found themselves dying quicker.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Victory?

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Sack of Calth

Chapter Twenty-One: The battle for the Vineyard.

The 13th snuck up from the gentle hill with the cover of the smoke as they’re shroud, weapons low and joints of they’re armour jammed with cloth to help soften the clicks. Isilorbor was in the lead, knowing the land better then anyone, Fireblade twitching in his hands, his eyes set and hard on the home of his childhood.

Chapter Twenty: The last stand.

Once more, Calth was ablaze.

Trolls has stormed though all defences that were erected, using fist, hammer or sword to rip apart anything that got in their way. Lifting men from the ground and squeezing the life from them, throwing their plump remains into their brothers in arms, stamping on leaders and biting whole men in half.

Chapter Nineteen: One final hope

Hearing Aahrash scream and roar in frustration, with the odd bang of something of Lavinia’s house was deeply pleasing, more so then she would ever admit.

Chapter Eighteen: Shadowbane Defiance

Aahrash left his pets to play alone without him. He had more pressing business to attend, much to his delight. He marched down past the mass of orcs with his chosen bodyguard kicking and pushing orcs aside, making room for their new master.