"In a fight, anger is as good as courage.”

The Cathardica... A Citadel of old world design made of weathered stone and castle battlements, tall as the tallest redwood and broad with layers of walls. Any sense of past wars is only felt in it's battered battlements left in their state for historical significance. The grounds were not as unkept as the outer structure as Cathardica was being used as a sort of political and cultural expo. The moat had the steady flow of a river being fed from mountain sources to the east and draining into the ocean to the west. The décor outside the castle was brilliant and full of varying cultural emblems and designs; flags, lights, streamers (not the Twitch kind) and many displays open to the guests. Inside the castle itself many statues and suits of armor stood along the hallways lit brightly by the miniature stars in the sun torches. The once monarchial throne room was now a place of discussion and political dealings, the chatter of dozens upon dozens of diplomats echoed off the tall walls and upwards into the high towers.

Upon the first layer of walls just before the castle itself Erum Wallenstein of the Fenris-Ulfr wolves sat at an ornate table along with the rest of his delegation and some other creatures of foreign origin. The discussion was rather mundane as it usually was in public, niceties here and compliments there blah blah. This however was part of Erum's duties representing his clan, he was as attentive as his will could muster listening to an Elf drone on. The hours stretched on from mid day till night and the expo was lit up in an array of arcane lighting, many colours and special effects were made as well. Drinks were served by the Citadel's castle staff. Along with many diplomats came a ceremonial cohort of soldiers including Erum and a battalion of Arka wolves, forty hand picked wolves of his clan. Considering all the nations attending the number of soldiers easily met eight hundred strong.

Further west long past the shores and in the deep waters of the Norwegian sea a malevolent storm had gathered and began pushing its way towards the east. What the storm hid was far more potent and malicious as an armada of black sail ships sailed with the storm. Galleons and sixth rate ships of the line sailed towards the port that supported the Cathardica. Under the hood and guise of a storm the ships sailed ever closer with clear intent to attack the inhabitants. If every ship was full then the numbers of the crew would be over twelve thousand strong. Dark figures move aboard the vessel hidden by corrupt clouds overhead, the shouts of captains and whips periodically break through the pounding rain. Hobbled and disfigured silhouettes shamble with haste in the dark snarling with the pain of their lashings. "HOIST THE MAIN LINE YOU WHORE SONS I WANT FULL SAILS!" The loud and gruff Spanish voice roars through the rain.

A flash of lightning reveals the form of one of the sailors. An old world orc twisted and ruined but now with a touch of the sea. The right side of it's face was partially eaten away and covered with mollusks while his left leg grew sea anemones from an open wound that spewed poison. It was clear despite their look of medieval era pirates they had the arms to contest modern weapons. The dreadful feeling of foul crafts came from everywhere including the clouds, the ships themselves bore ancient runes of unknown origin. The canons as well bore many runes that if spoken chill the soul of non demonic folk. From deep below the decks of some ship angry growls could be heard, but not those like the creatures above. These sounds were louder and deeper, filling up everything below with not but it's own sounds.

It would be some time until the armada arrived however and the guests were none the wiser nor was the forward watch or patrol. By the speed of the winds the fleet would arrive in a little over a day. The expo went on and Erum needed a little solitude from the masses even though he should be mingling. He found a remote corner where was built a gorgeous fountain dimly lit by illuminated violets and two sturdy benches on either side. He sat by himself and from his satchel removed an elegantly carved pipe. Fenris-Ulfr wolves were partial to the occasional smoke since it was traded to them by the scaled folk. He took a puff into his massive lungs and let a cloud up into the air following it with his gaze, until the smoke dissipated and he was left looking out at the guests taking note of anyone interesting.