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Once again the world was in awe when the apocalyptic horror had been awoken by those who deem themselves to be the glorious rulers of the Fantasian world. Once again the noble humans, mystical elves, farmland halflings and sturdy dwarves had to ask the smelly trolls and viscious orcs to aid them in a battle that would eventually determine their own fates.

Inside his palace over at the Carrothian capital Darkmoor, the eternal demonic ruler Shezmu sat on his throne and watched as the skies slowly turned darker at the horizon. "Oh my...they actually did it...Armageddon...who would want to cast that horrible spell?! Don't those dreaded mages in the Phi-kingdom know it's their own deathscentence?!" the ancient evil spoke aloud and paused for a moment. "If they truly wish to die, why don't they simply let my Carrothian hordes roam free inside their borders?! Surely my men will grant them as much of a horrible death as the armageddon would bring upon their puny bodies..." Shezmu stared in silence for a while at the dark clouds grew larger and larger in the distance.

Suddenly a messenger stumbled into his throneroom, abrubtly disturbing Shezmu's serene state of mind. "Oh Dark One! Please forgive me for my disturbance, but I've been sent to deliver a message of upmost importance!" the messenger spoke with a slight uneased tone. "You crawling little infidel! WHAT in the world can be more important then what's going on out there right NOW?!" Shezmu yelled at the messenger as he pointed his clawed fingers towards the clouds in the distance. "Please Demonic One, hear my masters plea for help...you may do as you wish with me, but for the love of all that's holy...let me at least speak the words I've been sent to deliver upon your unholy ears..." the messenger spoke whilst groveling on the floor before Shezmu who was by now staring at him with his eerie green glowing eyes. "Infidel! you dare speak of holy things in MY palace?! I should rip your puny body apart this instant! But I shall spare you, for now...as I'm curious what could be of such great importance that it would actually could compete against Armageddon itself!" Shezmu spoke with a voice of thunder. "I've been sent to ask you, if you could help the rest of us to rid the Fantasian world of the crazed mages who dared to unleash this doom upon all other living creatures...please, aid us on the fields of battle...aid us against the horrible kingdom called Phi..." the messenger stared at Shezmu eagerly awaiting his answer.

Shezmu stared right back at the messenger, with a slight grin visible on his face "So...you're telling me that all those filthy elves, dwarves, humans and silly little halfers actually need my unholy orcish hordes to join them?!...alongside their forces instead of against them on the fields of battle?! Well then...as this could prove to be amusing, I shall give orders for my troops to move out right away...however there is something that I will have to do before my men move out..." Shezmu slowly walked towards the messenger, his eyes burned as if a bright green fire was inside them. "You do know that you still have to pay with your life for your insulense!?" before the messenger could answer the Demonic One, he was already dead as the sharp claws of the evil ruler punctured his chest and ran through his lungs and went through the back covered with pieces of vertebrae on exit of  the messengers body.

Soon afterwards the mighty Carrothian hordes moved out towards the Phi-border, their red and black colors filled the battlefields and the skies turned dark with the massive amounts of nazgul that swarmed above the other allied armies carrying the blue banners of Legacy...it was Shezmu himself who rode in front of his mighty armies when the first battles for survival began...


(to be continued)