Ogmundr’s gaze falls across the rubble-strewn fields filled with the beast-headed men of the army Zesiro calls “The Poisonous Ones,” as they armed themselves with the weapons of their fallen enemies. He had caught the first of these “Orks” by surprise, and the invasion was without setbacks, but even for their low intelligence, they had a form of cunning to them. One he would enjoy putting to the test in the battles to come. Seeing the last of the pyramid shaped drop-ships that he was not keeping for himself take off, he thought to himself of the Floating Nile. The country that had both nearly killed him and saved his life was now leaving the orbit of the planet, ready to start its own mission.He was brought from this reverie by a loud sneeze. The Pure One, Ernst, had elected to stay, but apparently was allergic to nearly everything they’d encountered so far.
Shaking his head, Ogmundr returned his attention to his duties. His glowing red eye showed him the settlement that was nearly three miles from where he stood. Assessing the forces, he began shouting orders. He almost paused to contemplate how he had gotten here once again, but instead he let force a ferocious cry and led his men in a charge to meet the distant Orks.
Now was not the time for contemplation. Now was the time for war.
