Grimgor, the Orc Chosen, looked at the High Eleven Chosen standing upon the city walls, a slow smile forming across his tusked face. Even from his vantage point, he could smell the fear emanating from the elf and see the sweat glistening on his brow. It amused Grimgor to see the High Elves quaking in their boots at the sight of him. But Grimgor wasn't here to play games or revel in their fear. No, he was here for one purpose and one purpose only: to crush the pathetic defenders of Alerial beneath his boot and claim the city in the name of Maledrakor.
As streams of the possessed army flowed around Grimgor, rushing towards the walls of the city, Grimgor continued his slow and inevitable advance towards the north gate. Truth be told, when Lord Maledrakor had described the death of his fellow general, Malaki, to him he had both been surprised and unsurprised.
Grimgor's mind churned with memories, both his own and those implanted in the vessel he now inhabited. He recalled the cunning nature of the Dark Elves, their preference for subterfuge and cunning over direct confrontation. It was no surprise to him that they would ultimately fail to meet the ambitions of Lord Maledrakor.
Speaking of Lord Maledrakor, Grimgor couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of gratitude towards the dark lord. After all, it was Lord Maledrakor who had liberated him from the depths of hell, granting his malevolent soul a tangible form through the body of Grimgor.
In actuality, the Grimgor that was walking towards the Elven walls wasn’t the same Grimgor Orc Chosen that had served as an Orc Warboss for the past 10 years. No, that Grimgor had died at the hands of Lord Maledrakor, just like all beings of this world who would oppose him. When the original Grimgor had died, Lord Maledrakor summoned a greater demon spirit from the planes of hell to inhabit the now soulless body, reanimating Grimgor’s body with a new and sinister purpose. Now, the greater demon spirit couldn’t help but smile as he flexed the muscles of his new host.
In reality, this was the same process Lord Maledrakor had used for every new Chosen general he had reanimated and much of the possessed army. However, it was all minor and lesser demon spirits that inhabited most of the common soldiers of the possessed army. These lesser demon spirits were much less cunning and aware but had the added benefit of being much easier to summon, which is why Lord Maledrakor had the ability to reanimate armies of soldiers with those spirits.
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Despite the draining process of conversion, which had left Grimgor's body slightly weakened and had drained several of his levels, the new Grimgor that emerged, himself, was eternally bound to serve Lord Maledrakor, as was the case with all demon spirits Lord Maledrakor summoned from the planes of hell.
Turning back to the battle, Grimgor, or now the greater demon spirit, relished the chaos that lay before him. Each step he took reverberated with a palpable sense of doom as if the very earth trembled in fear. He observed the High Elven defenses with a critical eye, noting their strategic placements and defensive structures. His lip curled in a sneer; they were formidable, yes, but not invincible, especially not for him. He could tell they took great effort to create these barricades, and Grimgor would relish the opportunity to cut every one of them down
He bellowed a command, his voice a guttural roar that cut through the cacophony of war. "Forward! Crush the gates and slaughter every last one of them!"
His words spurred the possessed army into a frenzied charge. The battering ram surged ahead, propelled by the collective might of the orcs and dark elves. Grimgor’s pace remained steady, unwavering, as he fixated on the north gate and the High Elven Chosen, the primary target of his wrath.
It was only recently when Lord Maledrakor had ordered both Malaki and Grimgor to crush the remaining resistance located on the High Elven continent while Lord Maledrakor and the Troll Chosen headed towards the continent of Kaldara. By the time Lord Maledrakor was aware of the death of Malaki, he had already landed on the continent of Kaldara. Instead of turning around, Lord Maledrakor had given new orders and responsibility to Grimgor: bring him the body of the new High Elven Chosen, dead or alive.
It had only been through a stroke of luck that this new High Elven Chosen was inhabiting the first city Grimgor planned on conquering. Continuing the stare that the High Elven Chosen, Grimgor could feel his smile widening.
If one thing was certain, Grimgor wasn’t going to fail the first mission Lord Maledakor assigned him — he wasn’t going to end up like Malaki. After all, he still needed to prove he was worthy of the new body Lord Maledrakor had gifted him and Grimgor would do everything in his power to demonstrate that worth.