[15:42] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) 's presence rose up from the icey tundra of the highlands of Ukavone Kulkador like a black ichorish cancer that welled up from a wound carved deep into the white wastes and spread its vast shadow across the snow covered peaks. A chilling cry born not of mortal vocal cords echoed in the distance, filled with malice and ages old hatred, a sinister spell was called into being as darkness spread across the skies to block out the gleaming rays of the sun that shone down upon the highlands in which the stronghold of Orc King Muk sat crowned. The unnatrual darkness filled the surrounding lands with a sense of mortal dread and gloom the likes that defied explaination as it would seek to claw at the sanity of mortal creatures with cold whispers and passing visions of shades, ghosts like beings long dead would flicker in and out of existance hauntingly throughout the fort grounds...
[15:53] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) spies the being appear. Something seemed off. His appearance was one that could strike fear into anyone who spotted him. Grock looked at Muk with a nervous look, but waited for his leader. Muk would look at Grock and simply slap his shoulder. "We will greet them." he said simply, exuding confidence. Suddenly the darkness spread and the aura of the realm altered. These were dark magics. He signaled a single hand and Grock turned toward the village and let out a very peculiar grunt. At once from places even seeming unseen, the army of Orcs began to gather at the central platform. Axemen, Brute, Champions, the works. Orcs who all felt the dark shudder grinding into their very souls. They looked to Muk, who stood with confidence. Not a drop of fear evident. His very presence was all the Orcs needed. If their King would stand ready to die. To fight on the front lines, then they would die in honor, too, if need be. He shouted out, "Visitor! I am Muk, King of the Orcs. What is your business here?" He spoke with
[15:53] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit): his usually grunting voice. He awaited the response.
[16:08] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) appeared transfixed in the epicentre of a miama of arcane energies harnessed from the winds of Death as they encircled and howled about the skeletal spectre of unlife, revealing ghastly faces of tormented spirits that were forever enthralled to the will of the Great Necromancer. Where his presence passed, all things died as plants and grass withered, trees twisted and cracked into splintering fissues, their connection to the energies that gave them life torn from them to feed the impossible eternal hunger of the monstrous being who hovered above the icey tundras of the great wastes and highlands. The unnatrual darkness that cloaked the lands, blocking the rays of the sun that struggled to penatrate the erie gloom, created a twilight in which the gathering orc tribe were caught. The spell of darkness still assailing their sanity even as they fought for the courage before their King. Muk's words echoed across the valley towards the figure of black magic that his scouts could barely make out in the
[16:08] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): distance, words met only with silence. Or perhaps the Silence was his answer. The black skies above bubbled and churned with chaotic fury before the pitch clouds broke apart with a fel green light. From the heavens above came flashing comets of emerald light wreathed in blazing green flames, several of these monstrous rocks came crashing downwards to explode into the mountain side and sending a shower of snow in all directions. Many of the fel rocks would blast downwards into the center of the Fort, seeking to impact into wooden walls and fortifications with explosive effects that would send splintering shards through the air as the wicked fel green flames would fountain upwards upon each incoming impact that saught to bury themselves throughout the Fort and surrounding lands..
[16:21] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) saw the sight, moved and dodged the rocks as they fell. As a portion of the wall was damaged, Muk would draw his blade and shield, and unleash a war cry as he replied the answer he was given. The other Orc warriors would follow him through the broken fence. As all Orc Kings, He would lead the attack and fight. No Orc would follow a coward, so He would be everything he expected from his warriors. It was his Duty. He would try to make his way through any foes, heading directly toward the one who was obviously the source of the Dark Magics and the one who would be leading the unprovoked raid against his Stronghold. "Stand Strong, like the Stone Dragon, Fight hard, Like the Fire Wyrm! Find your place in History! Lock it in with your blade! Let the blood of your enemies anoint your blades! Drive them back! Make them regret ever having stepped foot on Orcish soil!!!!" He would hack and slash his way forward.
[16:37] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) moved foward with a a deathly grace, the shroud of the deathless master seemed to never brush against the surface of the snow below as the spectre of undeath advanced through the billowing ruin of emerald green flames created by the crashing rocks from the sinister darkness above that wrecked chaos and destruction throughout the foundation. The resounding echo of Orcish War cries were met only with the implacible silence of the dead, passionless and unwavering with a fearless advance. From the multiple craters buried throughout the vast expanse of the Orc King's strong hold arose horrors from beyond, fel green flames licked at fractured monoliths of obsidian stone as towering golem like constructs arose from the ashes with a demonic roar that impossibly echoed their depths with a sonic like eruption that threatened all nearby ears of the living. Like moving battering rams of fire and fury, the emerald green titans of necromantic power would arise to form a single war line regiment at the back of the
[16:37] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): advancing charge of the orcs to crash against the horde of warriors from behind in an ambush. Feral constructs would smash with overwhelming strength beyond flesh and bone, capable blows that would send multitudes of orcs flying through the air this way and that. From the icey snow the threshold of the foundations break, arose another line of the fel rock like beasts towering over the lines of blood lusted warriors. The gloom was alit only the emerald green hue of their firey bodies as they met the charge of orcs from the front and rear battering into them from both angles. Obeying the will of the deathless master, corpses long since buried beneath the icey sloops of the tundra of the stone dragon tore free of their icey prisons with grasping claw like hands and dark vigour coursing through their necromantic bodies. Countless shapes of battles long fought in the past burst out of the snow and rose to form ranks and files, obeying the will of the necromancer as they engaged the brutes with a fastness of
[16:37] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): speed and numbers. It was then that Orc King could make out the hovering shape of Kratash amongst the chaos, the blazing sockets of the grinning skull of the lich was fixated upon him without breaking its gaze.
[17:02] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) would lurch forward at the now visible Liche. His blade up and coming down, his hooked hand holding the shield forward, the block any attacks. He would attack without fear. Everything was practiced response and training. His own valor would encourage his warriors who would begin to turn the tide of their own battles. Suddenly these undead warriors would begin to fall, being chopped, ripped, smashed and hacked to bits. By no means were they throttling them, but it would not be a slaughter. The Remaining Orcs would fight with all their hearts, the very essence of berzerking Orcs would force out all mind tricks, spiritual assaults and head games from them. Their own combat being the soul focus for them now. More Orcs would come in from the woods, from hunting and join the fight, already armed and ready, as always. More and more would rage on, more archers would release their fury on the hordes of undead beasts that seemed to flood in like a fog rolls into the lochs. Muks own mind was focused like a spears
[17:02] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit): tip. One goal. Stop this invasion. Save his Stronghold and his people. Protect Ray. Keep Ukavone Kulkodor safe. His duty was clear. His mind had already been made within seconds of the battle beginning. Orcs are no cowards. He was full blooded Orc. Green skin through and through. "YYYYEAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH" was all he would say as he thrust his weapon toward the seeming source of this darkness.
[17:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) remained implacible, the haunting spectre of the Undying Lord fixed the gleaming emerald wisps of his wight sight that burned like smoldering flames within the sockets of his ebony skull upon the bezerker king of Orcs as he charged mindlessly with valor, if not wrecklessly through the hordes of rising undead in an attempt to engage the Great Necromancer himself. The Orc Horde were surrounded as the hulking golems of stone and fire had risen up in the rear of their encampment and strode foward like juggernauts of destruction to strike from behind. Corpses of the dead were choped down and felled by the falling axes and hammers of the zealous warrior green skins and yet with every Orc felled by the numerous zombies and skeletal minions, the Necromancer's will would soak into the very snow beneath their feet to saturate its depths with the essence of unlife itself. Comrades in arms that had fought side by side with their brothers rose anew, Orcs fought against Orcs. Their once living breathen moved with the
[17:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): vigor that had not yet left their cooling bodies, striking at their fellows with own clubs, spears and swords. The Orcs fought and pressed on, despite the darkness that haunted their sanity, but they were living creatures despite their rage. Exhaustion, pain, wounds all take their toll. The dead did not feel pain nor fear or passion and instead moved with like puppets on strings, lashed by the unseen whip of the Necromancer's will. The Tide had seemed to turn only to once more shift back as the Lich rose body after body to turn against their fellows, ranks were established and lines formed to attack as the King's people were caught from two flanks. The echoing shriek of steel upon steel was heard as the Orc King's sword was deflected by the runic edge of the Tomb Blade held in the Dark Lord's grasp, only for the Deathless Master to respond in kind. His skeletal jaw opened impossibly large as a fountaining spray of flowing mist billowed outwards in a blinding haze that spread vast and large as it was drawn
[17:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): upon the winds of Death. Toxic fumes that would be drawn into the huffing gasping lungs of the living Orcs by the numbers all around the wretched sorcerer king. An unnatrual sorcereous poison that would begin to attack muscles and nerves, seeking to still the beating hearts and corrupt the flesh of countless orcish warriors. There was a telepathic spark that glinted in the eyes of the Fel Necromancer, a single command that was spread throughout the three Witches that held back to guard the rear guard of his invading army. " SECURE AND ENGAGE. "
[17:19] Jaehaerya (Nichole Trafalgar) was standing still in the wake of the Prince's chaos and destruction, walking calmly along as the snow soaked in blood and ichor crunched beneath her boots. Her sister beside her, they exchanged looks at foul fire fell from the sky around them and the sounds of battle rang across the mountainsides. "Hm." She mused from under her hood, reaching back for the staff draped across her back. "I'm not dressed for this." Was heard, her lips curling as she brought the weapon to bear before her. That was the signal then, she thought as the disturbed voice inside her mind spoke. Her own magic, dark power flowed across her skin as she cast a ward, safeguarding the three women who joined the Lich. One thing down. The ward was her focus, the staff it's guide, but her hand was free and in that she would conjure a bright green fire, aiming it to take out a wave of archers upon the walls. If it caught, the feyfire would spread rapidly along the wooden rails despite the cold and snow.
[17:21] Kalista (Chrissy Reinoir) would simply let a loud audible sigh escape her lips as all she heard was the echo of grunting and swords splitting against her ears, each turn she made was just another echo of carnage as she attempted to duck another spray of rocks that came bolting in her direction, turning to sidestep a orc that seemed to breach the flanks of the infernals she lifted her hand upwards casting a quick but blinding flash of light that staggered the orc backwards towards his almost impending death as another of the infernals finally grasps the Orcs advancing line, giving a quick shout to her sister, she quickly grabbed her sisters arm pulling her back, "move" she screamed this time sending a rumbling shockwave across the ground flattening another line of orcs in their attempt to take cover anywhere they could find as another spray of rock and this time blood sprayed the front of her face, they were too close to the carnage that seemed to well up around them.. yelling again for her sister to move, knowing sure as well it
[17:21] Kalista (Chrissy Reinoir): would break her focus, she instead yanked her sideways covering them with her own ward of protection that seemed to raise a fired ring around hopefully deterring any other orc advancements
[17:26] Chellie (Chellie Sholokhov) moved slowly through the roaring din of chaos around them, without sight the pale elder witch still moved fluidly and effortlessly through the battle that spread out. Without words, she moved in silence, even her steps barely marring the snow covered ground as bare feet peeked out from beneath the gown and fur. While they were warded, a hand lifted and a towering orc from her left advancing was caught with a force strong enough that threw the beast away as if hit with a giant's fist, the telekenis welded quick and powerfully unleashed as the old woman kept any other lumbering beast from converging on them while listening to their bellowing roars echoing all around.
[17:40] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) his blade deflected he tried again, using the deflection momentum to swing back around and thrust upward fast, making sure to watch for any counter attacks so he could utilize his shield. At this point the Shamans and witches came from their hovels and began casting their own magics. Dark. Practiced. Some used light. One Shaman in particular began a chant to call to their own dead. The hope was to keep them from the grasp of the Necromancer. Whether it would work or not would remain to be seen. The Orcs were falling. Of course, over 3/4 of his force was gone. Peacekeeping elsewhere in the kingdom. Of course. Muk would not retreat. one of the Orc witches began trying to counter the magics of the 3 enemy witches. Any and all spells they could imagine, energy draws, etcetera. Another began trying to cast wards of protection where she could. One witch began casting a major spell of life aura when an Undead beast crushed her and ripped her to death. It was now that her sister cast a spell of burning flame,
[17:40] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit): which would turn the beast into ashes, then burned further leaving nothing left. This was beginning to feel like a losing fight, but none of the Orcs would accept this. They fought harder than all. The spirit of the Orc who fights for his home. His family. His lineage. A burning will that would ignite them further into battle.
[17:54] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) reared back in a spectral dance that defied all laws of nature, allowing his deathless husk to hover gracefully as if caught upon the currents of the winds of Death itself. There was a glint of satisfaction within the Undying Master's bale fire eyes as the lines of the Orc Horde was steadiy being pushed back against the relentless assault of the undead armies of the Great Necromancer. The sinister plague of toxic gas bellowed like green fumes up around many of the orc warriors, their muscles seizing as their hearts were gripped within their brute chests. Toppling to the snow covered tundra only for their bodies to immediately become reanimated by the dark arcane magics saturating their corpses before they could cool, rising only to join the lines of the Eternal Prince and begin a shuffling march foward. Blades rose and fell in mindless succession, Orcs roared and fought on and Orcs died, their losses only replenishing the ranks of the Dark One. It was then as the Necromancer Lord had foresaw that the
[17:54] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): Magic Users of the tribe rushed out to join the fray as he had expected, and planned for. The unnatrual darkness that shrouded the skies above, the spell cast before the great battle for the strong hold began served to weaken their connection to their winds of arcane power, diminishing the power of their own spells like a sufficating cloud. The Deathless Master hissed through grinning skeletal teeth, his telepathic orders struck like mind numbing lightning into the minds of the coven of witches that guarded the rear of his advancing army. Their purpose now revealed as his orders screamed ferally throughout their thoughts " NOW! FOR THE GLORY OF KRATASH THE UNDYING! DESTROY THE SHAMANS! BRING THEM DOWN!!" sending out a wave of telepathic insurgance through the dark sorceress' to counter the incoming shamans and witches of the Orc Tribe. From the depthless sockets of the Lich Prince's skull lashed forth searing beams of necromantic energies that crackled like black lightning and seared a destructive path
[17:54] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): through lines of Orcish Warriors, reducing many green skin brutes into ashes that was caught upon the winds of the vast landscape of snowy tundra
.
[17:56] Kalista (Chrissy Reinoir) knew her simple line of fire was only going to deter them for a moment so she quickly raised her hand towards the sky, a billowing thundering cloud welled over head simply giving a eerie greenish glow around the small encampment, closing her eyes she lifted her chin higher as it began to rain a rancid almost acidic rain that directed itself towards the line of Shamans and Witches, each droplet pelting them till it pooled at their feet swallowing them into it's embrace as it continued to pour filling their lungs with a vile energy that seemed to pull at their own strength, sucking what little breath they had from their being she tilted her head forward in almost a wicked grin as they begin to struggle and heave for breath, their chest slowly sinking in as they begin to shrivel one by one, their flesh falling and leaving almost a eerie skeletal outline of ash in the snow as they fell one by one. even the ones that it failed to reach would be weakened just by the simple aura that seemed to leave a slight
[17:56] Kalista (Chrissy Reinoir): fog in the midst hovering around just to finish a final blow
[18:01] Their was barely a blink to pass that the old witch turns where she stood, immediately reacting to something going on, the sudden unleashing of power from those not of their own group capturing Mechel's attention. It only took a couple of seconds for a pinpoint of its whisper at the elder's senses when used and her mind reached out for an crude arm thick stretches of wood from one of the stairs, tearing it free while her thick heavily bundled figure turns itself quicker to send the slab of cold winter hardened wood in the direction of one such witch that came up against the lich's trio of witches. Like a javelin, it went sailing straight for the perps chest to impale the caster through the throat, pretty much tearing the head nearly off its shoulders from the size of the wood's girth, leaving it to dangle while the caster staggers backwards before falling to the ground. Another step and she was turning towards her mind to the spell that Kalista had unleashed, sweeping her arms from her hips up and outward
[18:01] if gathering the very air itself and expelling it with a sudden arc of fel energy was unleashed around others, setting a ring of arcanic bluish white fire upon those standing as if reacting to the acid like rain that begun to drench them.
[18:04] Jaehaerya (Nichole Trafalgar) would leave such horrid destruction to her sister, instead she would take up the mantle of the ward, the flames rising and erupting outward, wild and untamed in their destruction. The walls were still burning green with feyfire, forcing the archers back or down, killing those that were not fast enough to flee. The screeching in her mind pulled at her, his power mixing with her own and the ward sparking with silver bolts. Any that would strike against it would be find lightning where their blood once ran, falling over in seizures. A smirk bloomed on her lips and the cries of those shamans caught in her sisters spell would encourage her, the staff buried deep in the ground with a thrust and both hands freed to once more burn with wild emerald flames. Their elder was waving her spells and Jae would focus on the closer enemies, going to set them alight with feyfire while still trying to maintain their protection.
[18:28] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) once more his blow would be stopped by an undead soldier, which Muk would quickly dispatch. Feeling the burn of the acidic rain and screamed out at the Lich, "COWARD!!!!!!" He would blow out a raging roar of pain and anger, "You hide behind your undead minions and witches rather than fight me! COWARD!" His fervor was renewed for a moment he unleashed a series of attacks on any undead who were in the area, and the Orcs nearby knowingly moves off from the area to fight the Undead. Muk, being the strongest of them, would rage forward felling undead after undead in a blur until there was but an empty circle around the Lich and he, then he would point his blade toward the Lich and call him out, "Fight me! You Against me. You leave your undead and I'll leave my warriors and we fight! Leave our witches out of it! We fight our own battles as men!" the carnage from his berzerk was evident on his face. Chunks, blood, ashes and his own burning flesh still sizzling with acid as itslowly melted bits of his skin. The
[18:28] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit): green fleshy ooz slowly made it's way down his face, mixing with blood both of enemy and kin, mingling into brownish droplets leaving his face in a downward direction. He awaited the Lich answer to this, ready to defend himself.
[18:41] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): " Almost as one, the numerous hordes of marching undead seemed to cease in their relentless pursuit forward into the ranks of their green skin foes, the white snow that blanketed the tundra was thick with the spilled blood of the dead and living. And despite the fierce and savage battle for the stronghold, there were few bodies that were left still in the grip of death on the ground. Many having risen to join the swelling ranks of the Undying Lord, Kratash, putting their weapons to work against their own former brothers. The Orc King's bellowing rage had somehow overcame the clashing blades and chaos of the conflict at large to capture the attention of the deathless master. An unnerving stillness stretched across the blood soaked battlefield as confused Orcs could only tremble with anger and fear, gazing at unmoving husks of ghoulish warriors who stood utterly without motion before them. The Stone Husks of Fel Titans shuddered the ground as their massive frames marched foward through the ranks and forged a
[18:41] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): circle of broad flaming bodies that would enshrine and encircle the two figures. Muk's challenge seemed to have captured the interest of the monstrous pride of the Lich Prince whose forces now took host around their them. There was a dark and dreadful majesty to the spectre of death that drifted upon the winds of magic before the Orc King, bale fire eyes burned with searing emerald green flames of witch light as the Undying Lord glided silently through the ranks of his battle titans. The drifting fabric of his tattered cloak bellowed behind his skeletal frame on unfelt currents of wind as the Lich was the focus point of a miasma of arcane energies. Spiraling books and tomes of spirit bound knowledge churned and whirled about his body as boney digits curled around the curved hilt of the brutal Tomb Blade..
[18:54] Ukilvakul woke from his deep slumber with a startled growl. He sensed pain, though not his own, though it may have well been. His rider was in more rage than he'd been in, in decades. <Muk,> he would speak to his rider telepathically as he rose to exit his cavern. <What has happened - who is this man,> he asked angrily as he glanced through his rider's eyes. As the ancient left his cavern, he spread his wings and took flight, the wind from his wings blowing snow out from under him as he wove in and out of the mountain peaks. He cursed himself for not having made his den closer, though there had never been a true need for it until now. He let out a great roar as he reached the stronghold, and hovered over the wide circle of Orc and undead. He growled, teeth showing, at the lich and witches. Out of the corners of his eyes, he would notice the fighting had stopped, making him tense - claws and teeth ready to tear flesh.
[19:05] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit) would charge the Lich, shield up and try to slam as hard as he could into the body of the Lich. Were the Lich to somehow slide to the side or evade, he had full plan to recover the attack and he gripped his blade solidly. The sword was as a piece of his own body. His hair whipped in the wind as he ran at an unusually high rate of speed. He felt Kul near and this recharged his spirit, driving him forward. as he would near the Lich, he would begin a growl and as he would come to collision distance it would become a roar. His own Orcs would watch from where they were, the battle halted. They had been now rooting him on silently and stood watching their leader. Full faith in him. Muk would hope to drive this being into the ground and crush his very being into the bloody snow and dirt.
[19:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) was no mere creature of flesh and bone, Kratash had broken the silken chains of mortality and forged a throne from death itself, arisen eternally as an Undying Master of the winds of magic itself. The creature felt neither pain nor fear in the face of such brutal and mindless fury that charged the feral brute king of green skins as he thundered towards the levitating figure of the Great Necromancer who stood adrift on unfelt currents. The great strong hold burned around them amongst the ruins and ashes that rained down from the heavens, the skies were bleak with unnatrual darkness with fel emerald green lightning crackling through boiling clouds that churned with storms above. The flickering of green light from the lightning bolts above illuminated the dark field and the pale flesh of the countless undead that stood silently around them. Bone and sinew tighened in the skeletal hand as the iron solid fist of the Lich Lord grasped the Tomb Blade within his grasp, Kratash hissed a curse that escaped the
[19:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): jaws of his ebony skull, reciting the black speech of the incantations that were bound within the swirling tombs of undeath that flowed about the robed figure of the Dark Lord as the Orc King charged. It was a Curse of Ages, a necromantic assault that would expand outwards around the Undying Master as the whirlwind would flow about his entire figure. Where ever the wind touched, the crippling touch of time was felt as snow would melt and be erased into vapor, ground would harden and crack into fissures, surrounding orcs and undead would wither and become brittle as their flesh aged hundreds of years within moments. Many would shatter into husks of ash and be blown away into the wind of the mountain, their life energy drained away utterly. The Lich would take upwards, adrift as it rose over the charge of the Orc King while unleashing a gail force wind of the ages that would threaten to overwhelm and flow over him. A gush born of death itself that would seek to age his bones and flesh wildly as his life force
[19:16] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident): would be attacked, seeking to be leeched from his very living flesh.
[19:30] Ukilvakul watched on as Muk charged the skeleton, glancing at the orcs and undead surrounding them. Not a twitch to be seen from either side. But as the necromancer began his curse, the ancient dragon would sense the danger in it. With a roar, he would swoop down and gather his rider in his clutches, before shoving himself off the ground with back legs and a powerful pump of his wings to get them airborne, and as far away from the skeleton as possible. He hoped to take a swipe at the skeleton with his tail as he flew away, but was more focused on saving his rider from the oncoming darkness as he flew at top speed to escape the foul curse.
[19:34] B. 尺ΛƓ (BlackBlade Smit): [19:34] B. 尺ΛƓ (blackblade.smit) screams as he is taken away, "NooooooO! My People! Retreat!!!!!!! Nooooooo!!!!!!!" He screams more in protest of being removed from the battle. He would fight against Kul's talons to no avail. He watched as what remained of his forces withdrew as fast as possible. SOme being taken to death as they ran, many making it out alive and into the forests to survive. They knew where they could meet up with their king once more.
[19:37] The Dark Prince (Seraphinus Resident) cast back his skull as a haunting laughter followed Muk, King of the Orcs into the distance of the mountains, the lines of the Orcish Horde broke immediately and scattered before the advancing armies of Kratash. The flames bellowed smoke into the darkened skies as the mountain stronghold and the battle for its control....had finally...been won..
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