Eothan, son of Harald the Traitor, watched the
emmisary depart allowing a predatory grin to creep
across his face. Yes, vengence would be forthcoming.
Play the game correctly and all would be his. With
glee, he sent out comms transmissions summoning his
trusted and loyal warlords...

Randwulf sat in his shadowy throne room in a dark
mood. As usual, he studied the various tac screens
arrayed on the wall in front of him. Their contents
angered him. Despite his best efforts, the Stompers
were getting closer to the MOST homelands. Wherever he
fought them they always seemed to outnumber him and
not enough of his allies were ever present to even the
odds. The political situation in his own clan was
growing sour and he was being criticised for his
failure to make any major breakthroughs on either of
the two fronts he fought them on. Eothan, head of the
disgraced, but still powerful, Heimdall family had
gained considerable support by preaching a more
militant attitude towards warfare, almost without
honour, an ethos abhorrant to him and the priestly
orders but one that offered new hope to his worried
subjects. His commissioned execution of Eothan's
father, Harald, by the worthy Clan Karstan had only
served to produce a martyr that the upstart had
skillfully used to create a fledgling new religion
based on his father's and his men's 'selfless
sacrifice.' Eothan was indeed a threat but the
Stompers had been skirting his hall only days before
so for now the heretic would have to wait...

The Stompers were closing and with each step they took
towards Randwulf's hall the weaker his grip on Clan
WolfShield became. Without knowing it, the Stompers
were becoming Eothan's greatest allies, nay, he
thought with a wry smile, his most effective tools!
Now the time was right...

The vote had been passed. Passed. Randwulf could
scarce believe it to be so. The Hall would be moved
and the new Era begin. Sitting at the head of the
council table he knew he wouldn't be in that chair for
much longer. Their vote effectively signalled their
lack of confidence in him. The presence of the
resurgent Eothan sitting in his father's chair looking
smug as council members turned to him for direction
only confirmed it. He still had support and he could
force a cvil war but that would only weaken the clan.
No, maybe this was now Eothan's time. Randwulf had
been outmaneouvered but he wouldn't give up that
easy...

Eothan came out of the council meeting jubilant,
Randwulf had seemed resigned to defeat, much like his
handling of the Stomper war. The council now saw
Eothan as the guidance for the clan. Even the Primary
Tech facility, WolfHolme, was under his total command
with his trusted warlords manning the key positions.
It was time to go and leave Randwulf to his death at
the hands of the Stompers. He gave the order for the
engines to be brought online and the massive facility
to shed it's foundations. Soon it glided towards the
accelerator gate.

Randwulf watched WolfHolme depart with mixed feelings.
His reign was over and at the personal level he knew
he had failed the clan. His sadness was tinged with
hope, however, as he recived the incoming comms
signals from the still faithful Battle Groups.

"AGW - Reporting..."
"AGE - Reporting..."
"AGN - Reporting..."

WolfHolme had landed at the first stage of the journey
but it was alone and Eothan was beside himself with
rage. Seated on the WolfThrone he shook his head in
disbelief. The Tac screens ahead of him still remained
blank. All of them, save the local scan. As the
representative of his new allies strode into the
chamber he put aside a swelling of embarrassment and
rose to shake the man's hand vowing to himself that
the clan would now follow solely his ethos...

Damned to be obsolete, Randwulf still found comfort in
the reports coming in through his HQ titan's Comm
Panel. The MOST alliance, for now, was still intact
and, at last, they were engaging the Stompers in
strength and numbers. If he could push them back and
take their HQs then maybe the clan would rally to him
once more. If Harald could do it with a suicidal gate
attack then surely he could do it with the Stompers at
his feet. However, an incoming SitRep from AGN snuffed
out his dreaming as he watched the reems of data
scroll down his screen, and scroll, and scroll. Scores
of behemoth titans from the fearless Clan Kreig
Machine lurched southward and were sweeping away all
that stood against them.

Randwulf took only a moment to order his battlegroup
northwards.

The Great She Wolf beckoned...