Chapter 4 Part 10

Morteous Blackheart stood alone atop a peak of Cinder Ridge. Their foes were east of him coming through the pass. He had spent ten hours conjuring the storm which he now released towards them. He had prevented it from raining itself out until the last moment.

Finally, all restraint was removed and it poured rain with a vengeance. If he was lucky, his flood would kill them all or at least a few of them. At worst, it would force them to take some kind of shelter and that would make them vulnerable to other attacks.

Ideally, they would seek refuge within one of the abandoned mines that honeycombed the northern Orkons. He had arranged to have a company of wights turned loose in the dark interior of the mountains.

Morteous sounded an evil laugh as the rain poured on the rock below and flowed downhill with increasing savageness. His mount snorted nearby and flapped its leathery wings in the rising wind. The warlock responded by leaping astride the beast and urged it skyward. Once aloft, he turned eastward. He wanted to watch what happened. He wanted to witness the fruits of his labors.