[ALTARUS:] You must learn to control your
spirit-form, Xerxes... for by

mastering the art of traversing the mists you may
effortlessly travel to many

places, and many times. Countless secrets will be
unlocked for you, and great

enlightenment shall be yours.

[XERXES:] Yes, master... and yet, there is one
realm which intrigues me above

all others, one era which occupies my thoughts
unceasingly... What of the

clash between the Royal Army of Hyperborea and
the Wraiths of the Chaos-Liege?

[ALTARUS:] Ah, yes... command the mists,
Xerxes... gaze into their limitless

depths... compel them to show you that martial
vista which you so fervently

seek.

[XERXES:] Yes... I see the massing forces, the
battle is imminent! How splendid

the Imperial Army looks as it fronts the foe...
into the fray they ride!

[Chapter 1: The Bloodying of the King]

[(The Armies of the Hyperborean Empire
steadfastly engage the Horde of Wraiths)]

[THE KING:]

Imperial Cavalry... advance! RIDE THEM DOWN!

In to the fray! Demonstrate unforgettably the art
of Hyperborean warcraft!

Spearmen, form into Omega Phalanx.

Archers, notch arrows, prepare to loose.

Warriors, stand ready... Sound the clarion!

Hearken, sons of the glorious Empire...

Here we stand upon the Field of Blood...

Though this day we may die,

Our legend shall live forever.

[ALTARUS:] And the armies met upon the Field of
Blood which stretched lifeless

before the aeon-veiled citadel which men called
the Shrine of A'zura-Kai, a

mysterious and foreboding place steeped in ireful
omens and legendary dread...

Aye, the carnage of that first clash was
phenomenal. The Hyperborean Cavalry

tore gloriously into the foremost rank of the
shadow-warriors, the enchantment

of the Crystal of Mera rendering the squamous
pseudo-flesh of the wraiths

fully vulnerable to the steel of the royal
legions. The king himself rode at

the forefront of the onslaught, his ensorcelled
ebon blade hewing ten to the

left and cleaving ten to the right, his grim eyes
gleaming beneath his

shimmering horned and plumed helm. The momentum
of that first charge threw the

dark ones into shrieking disarray, and the
vanguard of Chaos fell back before

the thundering resolve of the Imperial attack.
But the baleful, poisoned

blades of the wraiths took their toll upon the
Hyperborean horsemen. Raught by

leprous swords and spears, men and mounts fell
screaming to the dusty earth,

where they were mercilessly rent and devoured by
the slavering jaws of the

Chaos-Liege's minions. Aye, glorious was the
courage of the royal warriors,

admirable was their mettle... for every Imperial
Knight felled by the dark

ones, five wraiths met their deaths beneath the
slaughterfall of royal steel.

And yet it was not enough. Like a slithering
tide, the shadows engulfed the

cavalry, and the bloodied king ordered the
Hyperboreans to ride clear and

regroup. Then, with volleys of shafts as their
herald, and the Battle-Prayer

of Hyperborea upon their lips, the Imperial Guard
marched into the ravening

embrace of the melee, and never in the grim and
sanguineous history of battle

was there a clash to rival the slaughterous
magnitude of that awesome

engagement...

[THE ARCH-WRAITH:]

Minions of Chaos, rend their flesh, crush their
bones, devour their souls!

[Chapter 2: Havoc at the Shrine of A'zura-Kai]

[THE KING:]

Onwards with our spear-heads gleaming,

Meet them with cold steel a'cleaving,

Fall only when our hearts cease beating,

Men of Hyperborea.

[ALTARUS:] At the King's command, the clarion was
sounded to move the

battle-hardened veterans of the Seventh
Fen-lander Army into a flanking

position to unite with the remnants of the Royal
Cavalry. Like a purifying

storm the allied Imperial forces clove into the
wraiths to deal righteous

pattern-welded death unto their nighted foe. But
at that moment, black terror

descended screaming from the twilight sky...
howling swarms of winged fiends,

hurled forth from the malignant bosom of Lord
Angsaar, soared razor-taloned

into the fray. Beseiged man-to-fiend upon the
field, and harried from above by

the shrieking horrors of the Chaos-Liege, the
Hyperborean Army began to

falter, and to fall. And lo, beholding the
carnage, the King raised high in

his left hand the ancient Crystal of Mera, and in
his right gauntlet he

brandished the Bane of Angsaar, the dread
Shadow-Sword once wielded by the

Chaos-Liege's immortal nemesis... and he spoke
aloud the terror-fraught and

aeon-swathed words of invocation which he alone
had been audience to deep

within the shadow-haunted Mountains of the
Dead...

[THE KING:]

By the darkling powers of the Shadow-Sword, I
call forth the fury of the storm

to rend the massed legions of Chaos!

[ALTARUS:] And at the sound of his baleful Words
of Power, the sky split wide in

fury, and searing tendrils of ruinous lightning
lanced inexorably forth from

the heavens to rake and reave the massed hordes
of Chaos...

[XERXES:] The fearful spells he had learned from
the Mountain... did their

casting win the battle for the King's legions?

[ALTARUS:] The fiends were dealt a staggering
blow by the sorcerous

incantations, the power of the spells
inexplicably magnified by the

enchantme