The sky over Northveil no longer offered the faintest whisper of a tranquil dawn. Instead, the thick, charcoal-colored clouds were being violently torn asunder by gargantuan, lumbering silhouettes that moved with a slow, predatory inevitability. General Rudigor had grown weary of the predictable ground assaults that were constantly being thwarted by Sudrath's tactical genius. Following the humiliating stall of Martin's heavy division, the Iron Empire's commander had decided to rain destruction upon the Sudraths from a realm where tank barricades and trenches held no dominion: The Sky.
