He ran. Flared human-like nostrils and an oversized mouth filled with rows of fish teeth was a peculiarly efficient way to fuel oxygen starved muscles, as it turned out. The ring of steel on steel, and the screams of what was left of his men were gone from his ears.

He ran faster. Those Hyoomins were death. Death. His feet leapt over bole and hole, and he slung the Umber hulks' horn it was his duty to bear back. It was of no use to him now.He would not be giving away his position. Long nights spent in the Battle Pass at the right of his Lord and Master had taught him many lessons, the first was Hyoomins were unpredictable. They fight when they should hide, they chase when they should run.

The Kal'loryn. An ancient name for the mountain ranges that split Cozeroth from north to south. Thousands of miles long, and tens of thousands of feet high, the name did not do them justice. Vokom's boots stood planted on the stone outside the mouth of the cave that led deep into the mountains, to other caves. A vast and deep network of byways to get from one place to another. This cave was the one his slaves had fled out of, and into this hideous green country.