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Description
The air was brisk, and began to reek of death as Isabeth and the Nar'ruk trod upon the snowy ground. The tank moved at a cautious pace behind them, Taskmaster felt the icy grip of cold run down his neck as he gripped a nearby lever. An ominous red glow began to enter the visor of the tank and without a moment's hesitation he pulled it across, stopping the tank dead in it's tracks. He climbed out of the tank and went to join the rest, who stood there in awe upon the edge of the cliff. When he set his eyes upon the monstrosity laid before them, he understood why.

They beheld such a mighty fortress, a place that dug deep into the side of the mountain. And across its border laid a monstrous wall, tipped with giant spikes reaching up towards the sky. Above the wall stood a towering weapon, covered in the hellish light as it illuminated an even larger tower. It was connected by the spires and the buildings below, as if it were one massive hive. The tower bore a resemblance akin to a giant church, with the windows dotting the sides of the decrepit walls. And on top laid a cathedral, ruined by snow and age but kept intact.

This was the lair of Monarkh, and of the wendigo. Isabeth had come across many lairs in her lifetime, some were imposing and terrifying while others were glamorous and unashamed. But this...this lair was silent save for the icy winds, it was as if the tyrant inside was expecting them. There were no guards littered around the walls, and no distant shouts or roars from within. This would prove to be her greatest challenge yet, a final trial of her body and spirit.

Just silence, empty and cold. Isabeth stared with intent towards the glowing weapon, and pointed her axe towards it.

"That is weapon." She declared, the Nar'ruk responded with a quick whistling noise.

"Holy fuck, is that a missile?" Taskmaster squinted his eyes as Isabeth stood unmoved. Her face was cold with a new revelation.

"A missile of that size..." She murmured, the old man stared at the pale demon with the same revelation.

"Could level half of this world if it is launched! What is the plan?" He asked her, she looked to him before staring back out at the fortress.

"Hm, we go into fortress. There will be many who will try to stop us, but you and Nar'ruk will go to missile and blow engines up. Once missile is disabled escape fortress, I will catch up with you." The Nar'ruk gave a whistling roar in agreement, the old man narrowed his eyes and pulled out his shotgun. He pulled out some incendiary bullets from his pocket and placed them within the barrel.

"And what about you?" Isabeth paused, before taking a few steps forward. Her feet reached the edge of the cliff as she stared downwards.

"I must finish what I started, if Monarkh escapes then world will never be safe. Even if we blow up weapon he has brains to build another, I will end him here."

Taskmaster and the Nar'ruk stared at the pale demon, the old man coughed as he beat his fist into his chest.

"He beat the shit out of you last time you two fought."

Isabeth looked back with fire in her eyes, the runes engraved upon the blades of the axe began to glow furiously as her spirit grew determined.

"I know, but he is not facing sentinel this time."

And with a leap, she jumped off the cliff and onto the ground below, landing on both her feet. The old man rolled his eyes and looked towards the Nar'ruk. After a few seconds the Nar'ruk joined Isabeth in leaping off the cliff, leaving the old man alone in the cold. He muttered all manner of obscenities as he re-entered the tank.

Below, the two had reached the rocky bridge connecting the land with the fortress, when they heard engines burning at full power. A resounding thud followed after, prompting the two to look back at the source. The tank had followed suit, and began to catch up with them. Isabeth smiled to herself, for Taskmaster's bold nature brought humour and comfort in this trying time.

Unbeknownst to them, a skeletal, rotten bird was perched upon one of the numerous giant spikes of the fortress wall. It observed their movements before swooping down upon their tracks, then flew back into the dark bowels of the lair carrying thin strands of hair.

---

New finale piece, the group find Monarkh's lair and begin to enter!

Hope you enjoy!

Description
The air was brisk, and began to reek of death as Isabeth and the Nar'ruk trod upon the snowy ground. The tank moved at a cautious pace behind them, Taskmaster felt the icy grip of cold run down his neck as he gripped a nearby lever. An ominous red glow began to enter the visor of the tank and without a moment's hesitation he pulled it across, stopping the tank dead in it's tracks. He climbed out of the tank and went to join the rest, who stood there in awe upon the edge of the cliff. When he set his eyes upon the monstrosity laid before them, he understood why.

They beheld such a mighty fortress, a place that dug deep into the side of the mountain. And across its border laid a monstrous wall, tipped with giant spikes reaching up towards the sky. Above the wall stood a towering weapon, covered in the hellish light as it illuminated an even larger tower. It was connected by the spires and the buildings below, as if it were one massive hive. The tower bore a resemblance akin to a giant church, with the windows dotting the sides of the decrepit walls. And on top laid a cathedral, ruined by snow and age but kept intact.

This was the lair of Monarkh, and of the wendigo. Isabeth had come across many lairs in her lifetime, some were imposing and terrifying while others were glamorous and unashamed. But this...this lair was silent save for the icy winds, it was as if the tyrant inside was expecting them. There were no guards littered around the walls, and no distant shouts or roars from within. This would prove to be her greatest challenge yet, a final trial of her body and spirit.

Just silence, empty and cold. Isabeth stared with intent towards the glowing weapon, and pointed her axe towards it.

"That is weapon." She declared, the Nar'ruk responded with a quick whistling noise.

"Holy fuck, is that a missile?" Taskmaster squinted his eyes as Isabeth stood unmoved. Her face was cold with a new revelation.

"A missile of that size..." She murmured, the old man stared at the pale demon with the same revelation.

"Could level half of this world if it is launched! What is the plan?" He asked her, she looked to him before staring back out at the fortress.

"Hm, we go into fortress. There will be many who will try to stop us, but you and Nar'ruk will go to missile and blow engines up. Once missile is disabled escape fortress, I will catch up with you." The Nar'ruk gave a whistling roar in agreement, the old man narrowed his eyes and pulled out his shotgun. He pulled out some incendiary bullets from his pocket and placed them within the barrel.

"And what about you?" Isabeth paused, before taking a few steps forward. Her feet reached the edge of the cliff as she stared downwards.

"I must finish what I started, if Monarkh escapes then world will never be safe. Even if we blow up weapon he has brains to build another, I will end him here."

Taskmaster and the Nar'ruk stared at the pale demon, the old man coughed as he beat his fist into his chest.

"He beat the shit out of you last time you two fought."

Isabeth looked back with fire in her eyes, the runes engraved upon the blades of the axe began to glow furiously as her spirit grew determined.

"I know, but he is not facing sentinel this time."

And with a leap, she jumped off the cliff and onto the ground below, landing on both her feet. The old man rolled his eyes and looked towards the Nar'ruk. After a few seconds the Nar'ruk joined Isabeth in leaping off the cliff, leaving the old man alone in the cold. He muttered all manner of obscenities as he re-entered the tank.

Below, the two had reached the rocky bridge connecting the land with the fortress, when they heard engines burning at full power. A resounding thud followed after, prompting the two to look back at the source. The tank had followed suit, and began to catch up with them. Isabeth smiled to herself, for Taskmaster's bold nature brought humour and comfort in this trying time.

Unbeknownst to them, a skeletal, rotten bird was perched upon one of the numerous giant spikes of the fortress wall. It observed their movements before swooping down upon their tracks, then flew back into the dark bowels of the lair carrying thin strands of hair.

---

New finale piece, the group find Monarkh's lair and begin to enter!

Hope you enjoy!