On a steep, snow-covered mountain slope, a group of people is slowly trudging upwards. The world around them is covered in ice, with only a few jagged rocks sticking out. In the distance, the mountain peaks seem to pierce the clouds, reaching into the high heavens. Four of them move in close formation, following after a massive, armoured figure, slowly ploughing a path through the snow. The three behind that armoured figure can only move on that path, the snow easily reaching their chests. They are dressed in warm cloaks, trimmed with fur, worn above light leather armour. One of them is carrying a large, heavy bow, with a quiver of arrows at their hip, one is carrying a staff, the other a sceptre. The one ahead is clad in heavy plate, a shield slung over their back and an axe is dangling from their belt.

The fifth member of their group is entirely different. Dressed in little more than light clothes and a simple, red cloak, she is walking ahead, not sinking into the snow but almost skating on top of it. And yet, despite skating on top of the snow, she can look the armoured figure clearing the way in the eye, her frame slim, giving the impression that she is only the size of one of the warrior’s arms.

“We are almost there,” the small figure tells the rest of her group, just loud enough to be heard over the cold wind. At her words, the warrior takes the shield off their back and the others make themselves ready to battle.

In a dark cave, a pair of small, canid beings converses, their voices hushed and barely above a whisper. There is no light and only the vaguest light in their eyes tells of their existence. Their bodies are clad in simple, dark leathers, crudely but efficiently made, the blades at their belt appear similarly simple, but the glint on the edges speaks of the sharpness.

“They are coming, they are almost there. Warn the others.” one of them warns the other, causing it to nod and quickly scurry away, moving through passages cleverly hidden and impossible to traverse for anything standing higher than a metre. Even the small canids have to crouch and, at times even crawl. The canid that is moving away quickly reaches a different chamber, where dozens of similar creatures wait, small crossbows, slings or blades in hand.

“The Intruders are almost here. Get ready.” the messenger tells them in a yipping voice. All the gathered canids become still for a moment, nothing moving between them, before they all, with grim determination, move through yet another small tunnel, the group splitting up, scattering through a maze-like hive.

In a dark forest, a hooded figure carefully sneaks forward, weighing every step and carefully avoiding any unnecessary noise. High above, a clouded sky hides any stars, covering the world with a pitch-black cloak. The cowl of the being's hood hides a strange apparatus covering their eyes, faintly glowing lenses, set in leather, allowing her to move smoothly through the night, with nary a rustle marking her passing.

“I’ve scouted the way we can move to phase two now.” the cloaked being says, surprising another hidden figure. With a nod, that second figure starts moving, obviously getting guidance from the first one and together, they slowly make their way through the lightless forest.

“Let’s go.” the heavily armoured warrior shouts, shrugging off his heavy cloak. His voice rouses the fighting spirit of the people with him, a faint light shining in their eyes. Ahead, dug into the side of the mountain, is a cave, partially covered in ice.

Before that cave sits their foe, a massive, malformed creature, easily twice the size of the massive warrior, with claws sharp as scythes, a gaping maw filled with crooked teeth and coarse, grey-white fur, allowing it to blend into the surrounding ice. But the most disturbing thing is the chest, where a gaping hole makes a mockery of the natural order, looking like a secondary mouth with which the creature can feast even more.

Hearing the warrior’s challenge, it answers it with an angry roar, echoing from the distant mountain peaks. As both sides charge forward, an arrow shoots by the warrior, striking the beast’s chest and sending it stumbling sideways.

“Everyone is in position.” another small canid reports and the original small canid peaks through a gap between a false wall, staring into the tunnels on the other side. There, a group of humanoids, far taller than the canids, is moving through a wide tunnel, barely high enough for them, but they make it work. The two up front are clad in heavy armour, shields at the ready and gleaming steel in their hand. The one in the back is dressed in simpler armour, a mere chain-shirt, and is wielding a crossbow, carried in front of their chest.

In the middle, two robed figures move along, one carrying a simple, slender wand, the other holding a book in one hand, an orb that sheds bright, soothing light in the other.

The canids wait silently, who knows for what, as the humanoids march past. Just as the last one is next to the original canid, only separated by a thin wall of woven straw caked with mud, a tinkling sound stops the humanoids, causing them to freeze and get into defensive positions, ready to fight. Seconds pass in tense silence until the humanoids start to lower their weapons, thinking it only a coincidence. As their tension fades, it is time to strike.

The two small figures quickly move through the dark forest, reaching an equally dark mountainside. But the valley below is far from dark, in the night, it shines with the light of dozens of fires and the din of hundreds of people is carried by the wind, to that silent mountain slope.

“We need to be fast,” the original figure tells her silent counterpart and together, they swiftly move across the mountainside, placing items at regular intervals. Unseen, unheard and unnoticed, they make their way from one side of the mountain to the other. There, sitting in a narrow pass, a group of other small beings awaits them, riding on large goats.

“Everything is prepared, your highness.” the second figure tells one of the riders, speaking for the first time in a quiet and solemn voice.

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The moment the monster’s charge is staggered, the warrior puts on a burst of speed, trying to close the gap. Despite the snow, his charge carries him into the reach of the monster and his heavy axe bites into the monster’s blocking arm. One of the robed figures in the back speaks a simple word and the axe ignites, burning the monster’s flesh around it.

The monster reels back, letting out a howl of pain, only to get staggered by another arrow striking it. But instead of flinching back from the pain, it seems to invite the battle, using its heavy claws to swipe at the warrior, scattering sparks of golden light as he blocks them with his shield. Despite the block, the warrior gets pushed back from brute force and the monster bends forward, the howl in its throat suddenly sounding like the frozen winds of the north and a burst of freezingly cold air covers the entire group, only barely held at bay by a shield of golden flames, raised by both spellcasters.

Behind the monster, a clapping sound is heard and after that single clap, a moment of silence reigns, as the small, lightly-clad figure from earlier dashes across the snow with light, almost floating movements, belying the incredible speed and the pair of dark, smoky arms floating behind her, in place of her actual arms, still pressed together in the position of that single clap that silenced the world.

With a ripping sound, the false walls are torn away and dozens of projectiles are launched at the five figures, caught in the ambush. Coming in low, the canids only need to aim up, to make sure they won’t hit their allies on the other side.

In the sudden crossfire, the fighters up front are suffering the least, their heavy armour and shields allowing them to block most of the attacks, despite being caught flat-footed. The one in the back is less fortunate, the lesser armour and lack of shield letting some of the projectiles strike true, drawing blood and causing painful bruising.

But least fortunate are the two caught in the middle, without armour and unprepared. The canids seem to take great pleasure in targeting those two vulnerable targets, the few with melee-weapons yipping as they stab their legs and, the moment the first of them stumbles, everything else they can reach. The furious attack only takes a few seconds and before the two warriors can do more than take a half-hearted swipe at the retreating canids, the smell of blood fills the cave, coming from the two gravely wounded spellcasters, who are quickly succumbing to their injuries and their attackers’ poisoned weapons.

As the group is caught in the frozen breath of the monster, the small figure on the flank is quickly crossing the distance, the dark appendages floating behind her flexing just a little, pulling back as if to strike. The moment the small figure closes in, she starts to move sideways, keeping the distance, her fingers barely moving in their position before her chest and yet, those small movements seem to cause the spectral arms floating above to strike with tremendous force. The blows appear to be almost weightless and yet, each of their strikes staggers the much-larger figure.

The monster swipes at the annoying fly that causes it so much pain, and yet, the small figure manages to slip past each of the blows, forcing it to turn with her, leaving its back wide open to the rest of the group.

None of the others can ignore such an opening and a barrage of attacks is launched, a flurry of strikes with the heavy axe, dozens of dazzling shards of magic and a single arrow, gleaming with deadly power. They all strike the monster’s open back, tearing flesh and breaking bones, causing it to stagger forward. And yet, it doesn’t fall.

Rising from its half-prone position, it lets out an earth-shattering howl and the mountains around them seem to shake under the power of its roar. Far above, a rumbling sound seems to answer the call, the group turning pale at the sound of an approaching avalanche.

“It’s done, those two won’t burn any of us.” the original figure quietly yips to another of the canids, as they quickly scurry through the small tunnels.

“Regardless, we need to move to the next ambush. There are more of them coming, and we need to make sure they rue this day.” the other one replies, letting out a yip of laughter.

The two warriors in their heavy armour, still reeling from the sudden attack, watching the tunnels around them in hyper-vigilance hear that single laugh Then another, until their entire world is filled with the yipping laughter of their foes, taunting them as the crossbow-wielder desperately tries to save their companions.

“It is time.” the figure addressed before declares, staring at the one who spoke, “We will move the moment your task is finished.” the figure adds before turning their goat around, moving back down the pass, to take up position at the front of a line of goat-riders.

“Let’s show Morgana we’ve learned her lessons well.” the original figure quietly tells her companion. With a nod, the second figure takes out a small, crystalline object, apparently made from different crystals, fused by some unknown method. Together, they walk to the front of the pass, looking down on the valley they circled in the night. Looking down at the army camped there.

“For science,” the second figure says, the voice half laughing, half screaming. The crystalline object in her hands flashes with light, shining brightly for a few seconds as beads of sweat form on her forehead. Then, with a tinkling sound, the object crumbles to dust, falling from her hand.

For a moment, nothing happens.

And then, with a sudden, rumbling sound, the mountains before the two collapse, massive landslides racing down the slope, carrying countless rocks and incredible force. Right towards the army, who are just now realising the perilous situation, they are in.

“Let’s leave.” the first figure suggests, “We don’t need to watch the slaughter that comes next.”

“No, we caused it, we should observe to the end.” the second figure shakes her head, her voice a mix of elation and horror at what she wrought, “I never thought it would work that well.” she quietly admits, as the forces, she unleashed bury hundreds of people, some of them lucky enough to die from the impact, the others doomed to die slowly as they suffocate in the valley that would become their grave.

As the avalanche unleashed by the monster races towards them, the group has little time to bother with their fleeing foe. Survival takes priority and they quickly hunker down, the warrior taking hte lead while the two spellcasters set up their defensive magic again. The archer has little to contribute, shooting a few quick arrows after the monster that fled into its cave.

Right before the avalanche strikes, the small figure reaches them, gracefully landing in their mid, the spectral arms floating behind her wrapping around the group, sheltering them in a dark embrace.

The avalanche strikes the shield and for a moment, it holds, but as more and more ice and snow crashes into it, it starts to buckle, until it gets overwhelmed. The arms hold, the small figure surrounded by her friends starts to tremble from the force, until finally, with a guttural roar that sounds far too savage for such a small creature, she rips her palms apart, the arms that had sheltered the group suddenly explode outwards, scattering shards of darkness and power, taking the ice that had buried the group with it.

Sitting in a deep, newly dug hole, the small figure staggers forward, almost falling but one of her companions manages to catch her, holding her limp and suddenly so fragile-looking body.

The camera leaves the frozen mountain, the dark cavern and the mountainside, slowly illuminated by the light of dawn. As it leaves those places, it floats upwards, until the world is visible. A world, covered in the blue fires of purgatory.

“Great power sometimes comes in tiny packages. Fear the fury of the small folks.”