This was war. This was what Ivan Gregorovich signed up for when he joined the Khadoran military.

The thunder of guns, the crash of steel on steel, and the screams of dying men: this was how to live; this was how to serve ones country. He hefted another cannonball, shoving it firmly into his shield cannon. The other Man-O-War Shocktroopers in his squad were doing the same, preparing for the next push. They would be at the forefront of the Khadoran forces, as always, their heavy armor and shields weathering the enemy fire and protecting the other, harder-hitting infantry that will advance behind. Ivan had no problems admitting that offensive power was not his units strength. That is not to say that a Man-O-War Shocktrooper was a weakling. Quite the opposite in fact: they tended to be some of the strongest soldiers in the Khadoran military. However, there were other units whose training and equipment were better suited to exploiting the weaknesses of the enemy and it was his job to see that they got there safely so that they could destroy the enemies of the Motherland. It was a glorious thing, being part of the Khadoran military and knowing that even though his was not usually the arm that swung the final blow, he was just as vitally important to the success of the battle as they. The shout of Kovnik Petrovski roused Ivan from his reverie as the call came down from Kommandant Irusk to initiate the push. He stood, the boiler mounted on the back of this armor kicking in and the gears that powered his massive armor grinding into action to lift his bulk from the log he had been sitting on. After glancing over his men to make sure that they were all battleready he turned to look over who they would be escorting into the fires of war today. Standing in front was a trio of Greylord Ternions, and Ivan grunted in approval when he saw them. The magical clouds that they could summon from thin air would significantly reduce the amount of firepower coming their way, not to mention the help that their offensive abilities would lend to the fight. Behind them, he saw a group of eight Assault Kommandos readying their gas masks and checking harnesses holding clusters of gas grenades used to soften enemy infantry before the charge. One member of the group hefted a massive flamethrower that would be used to flush enemies out of their defensive positions and roast entire squads alive. Finally, in the back, he spied a four-man team of Man-O-War Demolition Corps and nodded to the leader after catching his eye. Ivan had served a stint in the Corps, and though the destructive power they wield was intoxicating, he did not envy them the loss of their shields so that they could heft the massive two-handed hammers that were the trademark of the Corps. Another cry from the Kovnik indicated the order to march. Ivan gathered the members of his squad together with him and formed up in front of the other troops. As he did so, the Kovnik joined them, stepping up next to Ivan, his armor nearly identical to Ivans save for a crest on his helm and the fact that his cannon was located inside his axe instead of his shield. Ivan nodded to Petrovski. They had shared many battlefields together, waging war against, and defeating, many of the Empress enemies side by side. Petrovski was Ivans squad leader back when he was still a fresh recruit and saved his life many times when Ivans youthful recklessness had gotten the better of him. There was no one, not even the Dark Prince himself that Ivan would rather have by his side in a fight. A quick glance behind him told Ivan that the rest of the troops were ready to proceed. At a nod from the Petrovski, he raised his halberd, signaling the general advance. The Shocktroopers began to move first, breaking into a trot in an attempt to move around the woods that had been sheltering them from the fighting as quickly as possible. As they came around the corner, the thunder of shells cut out as the Winter Guard mortar teams that had been suppressing the Cygnaran position ceased fire to allow the advance of the Khadoran forces. The Shocktroopers including Kovnik Petrovski closed ranks and held their

shields forward in a wall, expecting to feel a withering barrage of Cygnaran fire impacting against his armor, but none came. Ivan slowly lowered his shield and peered forward through the settling dust cloud raised by the bombardment. He saw no movement, and the Cygnaran line was dead silent. Maybe we killed them all? volunteered one of the Assault Kommandos. Ivan shook his head. The Cygnaran may be soft southerners, but they know how to dig a good trench. Our mortars shouldnt have done more than keep their heads down. No, theres something amiss here. I dont like this one bit. I agree, Petrovski nodded. But regardless, our orders are to take and hold this position and thats exactly what I intend to do. Lets move, but keep your eyes open. Hoisting his shield back up in front of him, Petrovski resumed his march toward the Cygnaran line, located at the crest of a small hill. Ivan hastily followed suit, raising his halberd to signal the general advance. His squad followed suit, resuming their shield wall formation while the rest of the company formed up behind, eyes tracking the trench line, watching warily for any movement or clue as to where the enemy had gone. As they began to draw close, the Greylord directly behind Ivan spoke up. Does anyone else smell that? he asked. Ivan hadnt noticed any smell, his helmet dulling his sense of smell. Once he concentrated, however, the smell hit him full-on and no matter what he did he could not shake it. It was the smell of death; of rotting corpses. Especially concerning was the fact that Ivan could pick out the scent of both freshly butchered corpses and of the long-dead. Petrovski hefted his shield, signaling a stop once more. Eyes still scanning the trench, now a mere fifty or so yards in front of them, Petrovski addressed Ivan. Do you smell what I smell? The mixture of the recent dead and the long-dead? Yes, Ivan growled. And there is only one time that I have smelled that before. Cryx! That last word came as a shout and, as if they were waiting for such a signal, a horde of ghoulish, half-mechanical, half-corpse beings came rushing over the crest of the hill. Mechanithralls! Shocktroopers, hold your fire! Kommandos, Greylords, these are yours, Petrovski called out. Right men, form up, snarled the leader of the Kommandos. Lets show these godless abominations what it means to invade Khadoran soil! Following the Kovniks orders, the Shocktroopers spread out, allowing the Greylords to step forward and unleash blasts of ice-cold air from their outstretched hands, flash-freezing a dozen of the monsters in place. No sooner had they done this than they in turn stepped aside, allowing the Kommandos to pass through, rapidly firing their carbines into the mass of thralls as they closed to engage them in combat. Petroksvi began to lead the rest of the company around the forming melee. Demo Corps, Shocktroopers, Greylords, on me! These buggers are never alone. Lets go find their master. And, he added with a pointed look at the Demolition Corps, maybe well be able to smash a few of those hateful helljacks of theirs while were at it. Yes sir! replied the leader of the Demolition Corps, the relish of the thought plain in his voice. The ten Man-O-Wars, with the Greylords between them, continued to move up the hill, casually smashing any mechanithralls foolish enough to try to stop them. As they crested the hill, they found what they were looking for. Below, in the midst of the Cygnaran trench line, they saw a figure of steel and green mist that hoised a long, multi-bladed polearm and seemed to be floating forward. Arcane energies swirled around him and as he saw them atop the hill, some of

the energy soared away from him to flow into and empower the two helljacks that flanked him. That was obviously the enemy warcaster, Ivan noted. As for the two helljacks that were now beginning to move toward them, picking up speed as they went, they both seemed to be Slayer pattern. Good, Ivan thought. It will be good old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat. Alright, Shocktroopers up front, shield wall formation! Demo Corps, hang back and hit them after we stop em, Petrovski ordered. Greylords, if you can freeze or both of these bastards in place youll have my eternal gratitude. Understood? Good! For the Motherland and the Empress! Taking up their Kovniks cry, the Shocktroopers stepped forward as one, snapping their shields up in a wall and bracing themselves against the inevitable impact of the jacks. Ivan and Petrovski were in the middle of the formation, with two of his men to the right, and the last two members past him. The Demolition Corps fell back, out of easy charge range of the jacks but within range to reinforce the Shocktroopers, and the Greylords stepped up directly behind the Shocktroopers, beginning the magical incantations that would be necessary to attempt to halt the charge of the inbound Slayers. By this time the Slayers had reached full speed and were about ten seconds away from impacting the Shocktrooper line, one slightly in front of the other. One of the Shocktroopers on the end began singing the Khadoran national anthem, and in a moment the entire squad had joined in, Petrovski included. They were still in the first refrain when the first Slayer crashed their line. At the last moment the Slayer, which had previously been heading toward the center of their line, veered to the left, impacting with the two men on the right flank. One claw smashed into each shield, driving the two men backward. They held, but the last mans shield was split in two by the blow. Capitalizing on its advantage, the Slayer brought its other claw around with unnatural speed and with a single, furious blow split the man from shoulder to groin, killing him instantly. Ivan caught all of this in a glance before turning back, expecting to see the other Slayer come crashing into him. However, thee Greylords magic had worked on this one, causing it to freeze in place mid-step. Seeing this, Petrovski began barking orders. Demolition Corps, shatter that helljack! Greylords, throw up some cloud cover so the enemy warcaster cant his us with spells until were ready for him! Shocktroopers, lets hold that other Slayer until the Demo Corps come around. Move, people! The company sprang into action, following the Kovniks orders to the letter. At a gesture from the Greylords, fog clouds sprang into being, cutting off line of sight to the enemy warcaster just in time, as the green energies around him seemed to be growing in intensity. With a bellow, the Demo Corps ran forward, all of them raising their hammer back for a mighty blow. Each one of them could shatter the armor of a jack with a single swing. It wouldnt take them long to disassemble that Slayer. Ivan, Petrovski, and the other two members of the Shocktroopers swung around, charging into the side of the active Slayer. As they came in, it turned to face them, swinging its right claw in a backhanded blow that sent both Ivan and Petroksvi stumbling backwards. In the same motion, it used its left to rip into the side of the last of the initial pair of Shocktroopers. He staggered, then was lifted from his feet and brought into a brutal head-butt with the Slayer, caving his helmet in with a horrible crunch. Meanwhile, the other two Shocktroopers charged into the side of the Slayer, swinging their halberds as one. There was a great scraping sound of metal on metal, then a loud crack, and the Slayers right arm fell to the ground.

The Slayer staggered backward, and Ivan capitalized on the opportunity, bringing his shield up and firing the built-in cannon directly at the Slayer. His hasty aim was slightly off, though, and all he managed to do was crush its right knee. It fell to the knee but surged back upwards, still glowing with arcane green energy. The other two Shocktroopers under Ivans command fired their cannons at the helljack as well, but there was no stopping its mad charge, even when one of the rounds punched all the way through its torso. Reaching the Shocktroopers, it hurled itself atop the trooper next to Petrovski, crushing him beneath it weight before it detonated in a great, green fireball. Petrovski and Ivan, seasoned veterans as they were, were able to bring up their shields in time, but the last Shocktrooper was not so lucky. As the smoke and dust settled, they saw that half of his armor had melted, fusing with his skin. He lay in the dirt, groaning and writhing in unspeakable pain. Ivan walked over to him and put mercy into his blade as he ended the mans suffering. Looks like its just us again, old friend, Ivan remarked to Petrovski as he turned back away from the dead soldier. Aye, so it is. But this battle is not yet won. Let us see how our comrades in the Demo Corps have done, shall we? As they turned from their side of the battle, they saw that the Demolition Corps had fared better, but not by much. Apparently, the Greylord magic had not held the helljack for long, and it had come unfrozen before the Demolition Corps could destroy it, killing three of their number before finally being brought down. Alright everyone, regroup! yelled Petrovski. At his command, the Greylords and the remaining Demo Corps trotted over him, the Greylords continuing to maintain the cloud cover separating them from the enemy warcaster. So, Petrovski started once everyone was gathered. We suffered more losses than any of us would have expected. However, there are still eight of us, and only one of him. I think our odds of taking out that warcaster are pretty go- He was cut off in mid-sentence as the enemy warcaster suddenly lunged from the mist, driving his green-glowing weapon through the chest of the leader of the Demolition Corps. The man slumped, falling forward. Before he hit the ground, the warcaster had already withdrawn his weapon severed the head of one of the remaining Demolition Corps. The Greylords raised their axes, now glowing with icy blue magical energy, and charged. Before they reached him, however, he extended an open palm towards them and a spray of viscous green liquid sprang from his arm, covering two of the Greylords. Wherever it touched them it immediately began to burn through their skin, and the two hit fell to the ground screaming. With a flick of the wrist, the warcaster sent the last Greylord flying backwards to impact a trench wall with a sickening crunch. The Greylords sacrifice had bought all the time that the Man-O-Wars needed. The last Demolition Corps member had fallen back, regrouping with Ivan and Petrovski as they came in to engage the enemy. Ivan came at him first, running full-tilt at the warcaster with his shield up in the hopes of knocking him to the ground. It worked, but only for a moment, as the energy swirling around the warcaster seemed to push him back up. The distraction was all that the Demolition Corps trooper needed. He brought his hammer around in a vicious swing aimed at the warcasters torso. The enemy twisted out of the way, but not enough. The hammer struck him a glancing blow, but that was enough to crush much of the metal comprising the right side of his ribcage and send him spinning. The horrible injury would have killed a normal man, but the warcaster did not seem to notice, using the momentum of the spin to turn around and throw

himself on the trooper that had injured him, jamming his hand in the mans face and releasing another blast of the corrosive liquid directly into his armor. The man screamed but quickly fell silent as the liquid dissolved his vocal cords. At the troopers death, Petrovski roared and charged the enemy warcaster, the fury of his assault driving the enemy back before his hacking axe. For a moment, the warcaster was on the defensive and was only able to ward off the Kovniks blows while backing up. This didnt last long, however, as the warcaster was also a skilled warrior and had magic on his side. He momentarily blinded Petrovski with a blast of bright green energy, giving him enough time to regain his feet and press his own assault on the Kovnik. This time it was Petrovskis turn to defend, warding off what blows he could and letting his armor take the rest. In a matter of seconds he was covered in slashes, including one deep gash across his left shoulder that laid bare the muscle below his flesh. He was being ground down, bit by bit, and he wouldnt last much longer. However, by taking the offensive, the warcaster had turned his back on Ivan. Swinging himself around from his charge, Ivan saw his chance and took it. He launched himself forward, halberd swinging for the warcasters injured side. The warcaster twisted, seeming to sense the blow coming without seeing it. Ivans weapon sliced through the air harmlessly. Petrovskis did not. He had seen Ivan coming in and had struck at the same moment, anticipating the warcaster may dodge Ivans swing. His axe connected with the warcasters neck joint and, driven by the enhanced strength given to him by his armor, clove all the way through his chest and exited through his injured ribs. The unholy life left the warcasters eyes and his body slumped in two pieces to the ground. After watching the corpse for a moment to make sure that it was dead, Petrovski slumped to the ground, breathing hard. I am getting too old for this, Ivan, Petrovski panted. Nonsense, old friend. Not only did you capture the hill as the Kommandant ordered, you slew a Cryxian warcaster as well! Irusk will be pleased Aye, he will, Petrovski replied, staring off toward Cygnaran territory with a contemplative look on his face. If some young upstart doesnt take all the credit first, that is. I dont think that will be a problem, comrade, Ivan said, tapping the Kovnik on the shoulder and pointing at the ridgeline. It looks like the Kommandant came down to view our victory personally. Petrovski lifted his eyes to the ridgeline and saw silhouetted against the sky a majestic figure clad in red and bronze armor, holding a Khadoran flag whipping in the wind. At the sight, Petrovski immediately dropped to one knee and he heard Ivan next to him doing the same. It felt like an eternity as his tension-heightened hearing listened to the boot-falls approaching where he kneeled, head down. Eventually he heard the steps stop in front of him, and saw the toes of two ornate, mud-covered combat boots edging into the top of his vision. He felt a hand rest on the top of his helmet and heard a clear, strong voice ring out. Kovnik Petrovski and Sergeant Gregorovich, this day you have brought glory to the Motherland and the Empress with your resounding victory. For this, you are truly heroes of Khador. However, the war continues and your services are still in need. Rise, and accompany me to the next field of battle. At these words, Petrovskis eyes began to water at the honor and he tried to blink away the tears, self-conscious even under his helmet. He rose, Ivan with him, and each took up a position to one side of Irusk, weapons immediately at the ready and eyes scanning the landscape, wary for any threat to their beloved Kommandant. When Irusk began to walk, they walked with him, escorting him and ready to sell their lives at a moments notice for their leader.