[bad word]  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? [bad word]  Ah, [bad word] the mists, Xerxes... gaze into their limitless [bad word] 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.
 [bad word]  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, [bad word] 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.
 [bad word]  At the [bad word]  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-ta