More than eight hundred soldiers of the Anaheim Private Army had gathered at Anaheim Manor, with Knight Anaheim's banner flying overhead. They had amassed weapons and magic items, preparing to launch a surprise attack on Suzail from outside the city and temporarily cripple the city defense battalion.
Before the Anaheim Private Army could set out, however, a group of uninvited guests emerged from the darkness.
The Half-Orc Sword Saint Doherty led a horde of Khorne half-orcs around Anaheim Manor's frontal defenses. A few effortless leaps carried him up the watchtower. The sentry in full heavy armor was sliced in two like tofu beneath his brass blade. Then, ignoring the defensive magic array and the hail of arrows hurtling toward him, Doherty smashed through a stone wall with his fist, crushed the wooden fence with his arm, and charged into the manor.
Behind him, half-orcs and barbarians wielding paired axes, long blades, and massive hammers howled in excitement. The Blood God's power flowed through their veins. The Master-level Half-Orc Sword Saint's iron grip tore through wood and ripped the towering manor doors from the walls.
He had just smashed through a marble wall and knocked down another brick wall, leaving himself covered in stone dust and looking rather bedraggled.
Yet his pace never slowed. The other half-orcs followed close behind, passing rows of benches as the stone steps beneath them were reduced to dust under the pounding of brass weapons.
Naturally, the Anaheim Private Army would not sit and wait for death. Arrows, tongues of flame, and magical energy poured out from every direction. As Doherty kicked open the doors, thick, heavy air surged out, reeking of incense and burned corpses. From deep within the manor came a low, hoarse howl like a distant tornado.
There were mages casting spells?!
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