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"A force of undead created by the master will level the outer defenses, no one must tie these forces to the master, as he can ill afford to goad the world directly. If you want the city, have your army stationed nearby or ready to occupy the city within moments of the devestation. The undead armies of Necropolita should have no trouble taking a city with crumbled walls, unless they are unworthy of Masters cooperation in the first place."

"It is quite a bargain, you get Lament for but little effort on your part. Of course, the Gaian republic will be able to do nothing to relieve Lament, as they will be busy gaurding against master in the south. In exchange for this, and our tech support, you will commit forces against the Gaian republic, harassing their northern flanks and keeping their army distracted while master annexes Aekea. You will also send us supplies..... from the mines..... for research and development. The alliance between the nations must remain the most hidden of secrets however, it would not bode well for master to be perceived as a friend of the undead, even among his own people."

The creature smiled, "As for our tech, Master sent me an inspiration, why don't you send an emissary to visit his HQ. It would be much easier to show you our progress, than to explain it. You might find something far more useful than a mech suit."

"Bring out your dead!" cried a zombie wheeling a large wooden handcart, with several corpses piled inside, down the road. "Bring out your dead!"

The earth stirred. Mounds of dirt spilled open with decayed and skeletal hands and arms reaching out from within them, pulling out the undead bodies they were attached to. Like a horde of ants piling out of a hill, the graveyards surrounding the necropolis were suddenly filled with activity, as thousands of undead rose from the earth, answering the cryer's call.

They filed into the city, marching, heading to the armories located around the necropolis. Strapping on breastplates and putting on helmets, they grabbed a sword or axe or spear or bow, and armed themselves for battle. Once equipped, the undead would head toward the southern entrance, where there would be space to stand in formation.

Stirred out of their tireless studies in the crypts below the city, the liches and undead necromancers received the call, some thankful for something else to keep them occupied, other grumbling about having their work interrupted. They took spellbooks and staves, wands and spell components and magic trinkets, transporting themselves to the surface to join the rest of the Horde.

From the workshops came hulking golems made of iron and steel, stone cracking under their heavy feet as they marched to join the ranks of the Horde. Though hardly as numerous as the undead, one golem was as good as one-hundred skeletons or zombies, and creating an army of them as numerous as the undead was impossible without an abundance of supplies.

They all stood in their respective formations, awaiting command.

Lilith Silvereyes suddenly appeared in her room inside of the temple. She barely got in a breath before Darshendros stepped out of her bathroom, the toilet flushing as he closed the door behind him. He looked at her and jumped, acting as if he were surprised to see her.

"I take it things in Lament did not go as our supposed ally intended them to go," he said.

Lilith bowed her head, nodding. "No, milord, they did not. They were met with heavy resistance, and surely by now, utter defeat. I had to flee before I was caught as well. I was going to infest the Underground with undead, and attack from the inside. I am afraid it didn't work out. The shrine is lost."

Darsh waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Many more will soon be built. I don't appreciate having my time wasted, especially when it comes to assembling the Horde. I intended on using them, and using them I shall."

Lilith raised her eyes, looking at her patron god curiously, "Sire, do you mean to attack Lament then?"

"Lament?" Darsh laughed, "Hell no. I'm going to throw that b*****d Yaits' favor back in his non-showing face. While you were gone, we were watching the battle from here, waiting for the walls to crumble to send the Horde through a gate and right upon Lament's doorstep. When it started looking like that wasn't going to happen, I had a small contingent up go to the surface, and do some digging."

"Digging?" Lilith said, a bit confused, "But there's nothing out there, except..." Her eyes widened, realizing what Darshendros planned on doing.

Before the city was moved underground, much of the technology left over from the previous civilization, before the city was turned into a necropolis, was salvaged and repaired as much as possible. Those that couldn't be repaired, were turned into new devices through the use of harvesting magic into crystallized forms and fusing them with machines, usually as a power source. Much was built through the innovations of combining magic and technology, but in a land so literally dead, serving no strategic point to any other controlling nation, and in a city occupied by the undead, there really was no use for them. They certainly weren't going to trade it to anyone. The technology was buried and eventually forgotten - until now.

"Edward Yaits will regret the day he ever met me."

"Load up!"

Horns blared. Horde troops scrambled up the ramps leading up into the airships. The air hummed with power as the airships warmed their engines, the fiber wings raising up and getting ready for lift off. Only one contingent of the Horde could fit on both airships, leaving the rest to march on land. It wouldn't make much of a difference, since they never tired.

The remaining Horde filed into the tunnels, which they would take south, past the mountains and Lament, and into the desert. The airships rose in the air, whipping up clouds of sand and grit, the wings pushing down to create more of an updraft. The red airship, the Draconis, turned toward the south, flanked by the blue airship, The Storm Over Gaia. The quad-boosters fired, and the two airships glided smoothly through the air.

Marching in cadence, the Horde left on land marched through the tunnels that winded south toward Barthavos. It was about a three days' march, since they weren't stopping anytime soon, unless something barred their way. The airships would reach there in half the time, unless they ran into trouble going through Lamentian air space.

((Cue Imperial Death March theme))

Far off the coasts of the Northernlands, Seven M-serpant submarines surfaced in the ocean waters. Each fully equiped with 20-Grudge SLCM (Aptly named for a betrayed ally). These missiles were designed to penetrate through to fortified bunkers hundreds of meters underneath the earth's surface. Too bad they knew where the entrance was. They could also equip tactical nuclear warheads, but that wan't neccesary, not yet. The first forty cruise missiles would enter the mouth of the Necropolita cave, breaking apart any stone formation in their way as they began a calculated descent into the city. Warheads timed to be released once the misiles were inside, setting fires underground. If everything went has planned, the tower itself would be hit several times. Cruise missiles would rain down on the cave from above, and the sides as well, penetrating deep before exploding, each hit designed to break away at the structural integrity of the cave.

"It seems the time has come for me to directly get involved. Things aren't turning out as planned."

"What would you like for me to do?"

"Meet up with Valas. If we get nothing else out of this campaign, I at least want a foothold in the drow city."

Chaszmyr was left alone in the study room, before he too slipped into the shadows and vanished. That left only Lilith in charge of the city, being the high priestess of the temple. The necropolis was put on alert. The work in the mines was brought to a halt after all the carts of ore were pulled in along with the undead miners. Were they expecting company? Maybe.

The latex skin floating in the tube was actually made of latex! The bone fragments were from dead chimeras. The eye that gleamed like glass, well, it did so because it actually was a ball of glass tied to the top of the chamber with a razor thin wire! The fat lich would be in for an unexpected surprise when he opened the crate, if he lived long enough. As soon as the boards came down the glass eye exploded inside the chamber, and a wave of stored holy magic spread out in a sphere through Necropolita. The radius extending at maximum by one kilometer.

In this sphere, anything undead would be purified, vampires would have their skin burnt off their bones. The fat lich, being so close to the holy bomb as it went off, would probably be incinerated. The holy power would reverberate through the area of effect, going through walls, stone, or any material barrier.