Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

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Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Dec 15, 2009 5:40 pm

So much dust. It filled Arrekk's eyes, blinding him, choking him. But he was used to it. That's how all of Erf was, at least all that he had heard of. Only high above the ground did the omnipresent cloud disappear, revealing something not much better. A sky deep orange streaked with rich red: the blood of the Titans, they said.

And it certainly seemed that the Titans were dead, their life-blood spilled out across the heavens. There had been little or no reason to believe that they still cared what happened to erfworld since the last Great War. It had been meant to end all wars, Arrekk knew, but it had done nothing of the sort. It had transformed the world into a dead husk of its former self. And Arrekk knew who was to blame.

It was he who disobeyed the Titans. It was he who broke down what they had built up. It was he known as Hamster.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Dec 15, 2009 7:30 pm

Arrekk knew this. It was the only thing he really did know, besides how to live the life of a barbarian. He had been popped that way, and had lived that way for 486 turns. It wasn't easy. He'd found and tamed a flying tiger on his third turn, but it was quickly croaked. Most sides nowadays would do anything to gain some rations, now that farming wasn't an option.

So Arrekk had improvised, and survived. In his most recent adventure, he had stolen about 2000 schmuckers from a Level 2 called Falamana, belonging to a small side of the same name, but his escape wasn't as clean as he had hoped. Turned out they had a lookamancer. So now he was running for his life away from a stack of gwiffons.

He had moved out of the low mountain hex that had sheltered the city from most of the dust cloud, and was now immersed in the sooty red stuff. Unfortunately, he had managed to move only one hex before his turn ended, and so the gwiffons were in the same hex as him. The cloud prevented easy air recon thanks to its natural foolamancy, so they had been forced to break stack and search for him.

Suddenly a gwiffon appeared out of nowhere; less then 5 feet away, it rocketed toward Arrekk and clamped its sticky jaws around his torso. Arrekk countered with a stab into the gwiffon's back, but his sword became caught in its flesh. He let go of the weapon and instead wrestled the monster to the ground, slamming its head into the hard packed dirt. It did little damage, but was enough to force it to open its jaws.

Arrekk leaped onto the gwiffon's back and struck it again on the head, then used his heels to direct it up, out of the cloud. The dumb beast obeyed, and suddenly Arrekk could see his new unit's stats: a level 1. Pitiful. Made even worse by the warning cry another gwiffon let out the second that they broke into open air. In under 5 seconds, the other 6 members of the flock burst out of the dust around the hex and gave chase.

But it was too late; the sun set suddenly and Falamana's turn ended abruptly. Arrekk stayed awake all night, hiding in the cloud around the edges of the hex. At daybreak his turn began and he fled back to the Minty Mountains. But more bad luck awaited him: as he passed over a cliff edge, an outpost of enemy archers opened fire on the gwiffon. Two volleys was enough to croak the thing.

Arrekk fell out of the sky, and landed on an outcrop of rock just below the cloud level. But the dust was thin here, and a tunnel was barely visible through the gloom. Behind him a war horn called, and he fled into the darkness, into the unknown, into the future.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Dec 15, 2009 7:57 pm

Arrekk wandered through the tunnels for 4 turns. He later estimated that there were about 3 hexes of them, but the twisting labyrinth within the mountain was impossible to navigate. He eventually saw a light at the end of the tunnel and thought FINALLY! If I had stayed in here for another turn I would have croaked! Then he saw what was outside, and thought I very well may croak from shock. And then his body decided that was a little extreme and just passed out for the rest of the turn.

Turn #492 was his first though when he came too. Then he very nearly fainted again. He was saved from another turn's rest by the sudden popping of his rations. Usually it consisted of dry, semi-stale bread and water and occasionally some sort of mystery meat bacon. Today, it seemed that whatever still popped stuff was celebrating his luck as much as he was. So he sat and ate his steak and eggs with gusto, all the while marveling at his ridiculous find.

"A... a... a paradise" he muttered to himself every few seconds. "Is it... the City of Heroes? It must be. I must've been eaten by a spidew while I slept last night. And now I've reached my eternal reward. It's... beautiful. Imagine it back on Erf! Hah! No dust. No units I can see. Nothing that will croak and eat me. Paradise."

And indeed, the land he had found seemed perfect. No dust lingered in the lush, green valley, surrounded by impassably high mountains on all sides, even for fliers. A single pass of high but passable mountains existed on the north-eastern side. A tiny amount of dust was creeping up near the peaks of the picturesque blue peaks, but Arrekk barely noticed. In fact, when he finally did he only though that it complemented the still orange sky beautifully. The entire valley was roughly circular and stretched about 30 hexes in diameter. Most of that was green open fields, with a small forest on the far side. Only one blemish marred the landscape: a huge black crater seemingly 3 hexes wide located about seven hexes from the pass. Two cities stood in the paradise, one to the far west and the other just a hex away from the southern mountains, right in front of Arrekk.

With a shout of joy, the barbarian warlord ran toward the metropolis. Some natural predictamancy told him that this was to be his new home.
Last edited by Sinrus on Wed Dec 23, 2009 11:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Dec 15, 2009 9:13 pm

As Arrekk drew closer to the city, it became clear why no units inhabited it. It was abandoned, an ancient ruin. The city was a grayish silver color, with ridiculously thin outer walls. They were falling apart, but Arrekk suspected he might have been able to break them down anyway. The garrison wall looked far more solid, with six tooth-like towers rising out of it. Another great gaping hole aloud Arrekk access. Now he stood at the base of the tower. It was a massive silver and white obelisk consisting of six columns wrapped around each other. The structure looked sturdy up about three fourths of the way to the top, at which point two of the columns had crumbled. Thin, pointed wings stretched out in all directions from the top of the tower, but at least half of them had fallen down into the city. At the vertex of these branches was the only completely intact building in the city, a fortress made of glass and steel.

The entire tower felt like a monument, a relic from better times. He entered it. No time to waste. Fate was calling him. He ran up the glass staircase in the tower, looked out of every open wall off the platform over the city and valley. In some he found catapults and ballistae, others were empty. Into the fortress he rushed, and didn't stop. He knew not where he ran, his feet were guided by some other intelligence. Huge double doors of silver and steel stood in his way; he thrust them open with barely any effort. Now he stopped. He had found what he was looking for.

A long hall filled with swirling silver columns stretched before him. A white rug laid out on the floor led him forward, past walls of frosted glass inscribed with images that he did not have time to see. He walked now, reverently, praying prayers he had never learned to Titans he had never heard of. At the end of the hall, he found a throne of purest platinum. It towered above the room, fifteen feet above the floor. Arrekk, though only five an a half feet tall, found the strength to jump and grasp the edge of the throne with the tips of his fingers. He hoisted himself up, and kneeled on the seat. The throne was sleek, curved, and beautiful. Twisted spikes rose from the headboard. It looked as though it could be a flying mount.

Draped on one of the headboard spikes was a crown. It was a simple circlet of three bands of different metals: steel, silver, and platinum. He tried it on, and it fit perfectly behind his ears, tucking his light brown hair close to his head. He now sat properly on the throne, and something in his mind snapped into place. It felt right somehow. And once again he was possessed by the same alien spirit that had led him here. And he heard himself proclaim "Behold, I, Arrekk the New Tool, claim this city. May the Titans rise again." And everything changed around him.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Dec 16, 2009 6:29 am

Round Arrekk, the entire city looked like liquid. The metal of the walls blurred and twisted, but he had no extra energy to watch the transformation. He was completely absorbed in his own internal polymorph. He could practically feel his brain cells rapidly duplicating, creating an entire new section of his brain. Splitting pain ran down his spine and something, no two somethings, exploded out of his shoulder blades. The pain was exquisite.

Arrekk dropped down from the throne and ran. His feet sunk into the still swirling ground, but he couldn't stop. He came out upon a balcony and heaved himself off the edge. Anything to end the pain. Anything. Below him, the city reformed itself automatically. Rubble returned to its places among buildings, the walls mended themselves. Arrekk didn't notice. He was screaming.

The spiked wings of the tower lying on the ground below began to rise up. Arrekk turned to put himself on a crash course with it. All to end the pain faster. Best not to wait for the ground. The end was coming. Finally. Five more seconds. The spike rushed up to greet him into the next life. And suddenly the pain ended.

As Arrekk collided with the piece of the tower, he flipped and pushed off, now spiraling down to the ground. Behind him he heard a screech and hiss of metal as the tower rejoined its missing limbs. The transformation was completed. Arrekk stopped spinning, saw that the ground was near and reacted instinctively. He spread his wings and rocketed back up.

He hovered above the city now, and inspected himself. He had grown pure white feathered wings and had a wingspan of six feet. They arched from his shoulders and extended from holes in his tunic that had not been there before. He practiced moving around, and discovered the he could rotate them nearly 180 degrees to move in any direction he wanted.

The city itself had made very minor structural modifications. It was still round, and now possessed slightly thicker silver walls with gold streaks that changed positions when Arrekk tilted his head. The majority of the empty buildings that filled the city itself were still white or silver, but the towering garrison walls behind them were shining gold with six silver towers spaced throughout its length. Behind those walls, the garrison wasn't visible but the tower had undergone some magnificent changes. Three of the six twisting columns that formed the base had changed from silver to gold, and golden streaks also shot through the branches at the top. Arrekk had time to count them now: there were eight, each pointing to a different direction. Sitting above them, the fortress now appeared to be something out of the Kingdom of Heaven; a brilliant golden palace that could be seen from hexes away.

Using his new mental muscles, Arrekk discovered that he had the ability to command that the branches be moved. Great gears strained within the tower, and he could fold them down so that they wrapped around the tower and blocked the various opening into it, presumably made as launching points for flyers. When he did this, the entire tower looked something like a silver and gold version of the poles outside of barber shops. Albeit one with a golden castle atop it. He extended the branches again for the sheer thrill of it, then began exploring his other options.

He named his city Animus and the side Draviston. In the production queue he began to build his first warlord. A thought popped in to his head. This is something new. Something glorious.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Dec 16, 2009 4:56 pm

Three turns later. Arrekk had spent the time since his coming to power alone in the city. He tested his wings, learned about the different units he could pop, sent out teams to mine the nearby mountains, and had explored the citadel. He had found two more rooms of interest: a situation room, complete with a holographic table which he ran endless simulations on, and a library.

He was there now reading a book about the history of the city where he was living. Apparently, it was once called Faq, and had fallen twice to the same enemy. That enemy was the enemy of Erf: Gobwin Knob. He learned that Faq had been that side's last conquest before the end, when the Titans finally confronted Lord Hamster. The combined power of four arkentools smote them, and the world, and wiped out Gobwin Knob forever. Arrekk estimated that this had happened a bit more than 3500 turns before.

His reading was interrupted by a pop. Wrong time for rations, he thought, must be...

"My warlord!"

"I hate to disappoint, liege." The new unit was tall, bearded, and old. He wore a brown robe tucked beneath white wings even longer than Arrekk's.

"Ah," Arrekk replied. "You don't look like a warlord."

"If I were a foolamancer, I would tell you that looks can be deceiving. But alas, I am not. I am a predictamancer, and my name is Abraham."

"A predictamancer," Arrekk said, clearly disappointed. "Well, I have you, I might as well use you. Give me a prediction."

"Very well, master," Abraham replied, "But first I think I ought to tell you: Until I level, I can give you only one prediction per day, and they will be vague. I also can only predict large movements in the world, not specific things. But you have ordered a spell, and I have not yet delivered. It is time to rectify that." Abraham's body began to glow light blue and he chanted:

Long ago the world was changed,
But only two places remained the same.
Soon returns the age of gold
And the people of Erf will soon behold
The ones by whom they were made.

"Impressive" Arrekk said. "But what does that mean?"

"What," countered Abraham, "does what mean? I'm afraid I can't remember what I said."

Arrekk was annoyed. "Something about the world changing, and a golden age, and making things."

Abe's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't know, lord. Perhaps it will come to me, but I doubt it."

Arrekk sighed in frustration. "Alright, I'll just start popping another warlord. Maybe this one will be able to remember why he was created."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Dec 16, 2009 8:54 pm

Two turns later, Abraham had really grown on Arrekk. They had spent most of the time in the situation room, where Arrekk discovered that Abraham had a surprisingly deep pool of knowledge about combat. They often placed bets on simulated battles, but after Abe won six times in a row, Arrekk felt that he had to ask.

"How do you always know? You're a caster!"

"Everybody has his own special talent," Abe answered vaguely.

"I thought your 'special talent' was predictamancy."


"So you've been cheating! And wasting juice! But on the subject of predictamancy, you haven't said anything prophet-y over the last two turns. Do your predictions accumulate over time?"

"Actually it's mostly luck, but some times I can receive free insight on unimportant things like these gambles. And no, but if you wish I can make scrolls each turn that I do not cast a spell. It costs schmuckers though."

"What's the point of making scrolls then? You still need to use juice cast the spells later."

"True, but any caster class can cast from the same scroll. Because of this, scrolls are also easily sold to other sides that do not have that type of caster. But on the subject of schmuckers, you know that our current financial situation is untenable."

"Yes," sighed Arrekk, "our small miner corps doesn't bring in very much money at all. It's fine for now since I only need to pay your upkeep, but once our side grows it will be difficult to sustain an army."

"Well, I believe that I have an answer to the problem, at least temporarily. You may not have thought of this, since the world outside of Draviston is so barren, but the majority of our small side is fertile plains. We can-"

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that? We can farm! There are so few farm-able spots left on Erf that rations have become ridiculously expensive. If we cut off that cost, we will have a substantial boost to the treasury!"

"But not only that!" cried Abraham, "We can sell our surplus to other sides! It will almost certainly be of better quality than the horrid stuff we pop every day!"

"It's not that bad. You get used to it."

"I hope not to have the time to."


The next morning Arrekk awoke. Turn #495. He walked out of the bedroom hidden behind his throne and stretched his wings to welcome the new day. He grabbed his crown off of the table beside the door. Like everything else, it had changed: it still consisted of three bands of steel, silver, and platinum but two new golden strips had also appeared. The throne room itself was also different. The walls still silver but now thin golden lines etched out images of the titans along the hall. The throne itself was now pure gold atop its platinum column.

Arrekk entered the dining room to see that Abraham was already there. Right as he sat down breakfast popped. Their farms were certainly in full swing; two plates of toast and eggs sat before them. Abraham initiated the conversation by announcing that he was the most brilliant caster this in the Minty Mountains.

Arrekk laughed. "Yes indeed my friend, when compared to you, I should have popped a stupid meal. But speaking of these ingenious farms, I should check our income for this turn." Arrekk closed his eyes for a second, then opened them wide and fell from his chair.

"OMT," he yelled, "We just made more schmuckers in one turn than I've ever had in my life!" He began to laugh again and rolled around on the floor.


The new warlord looked confused. "Erm... my lord? Can I help you?"
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 17, 2009 4:50 pm

Arrekk quickly stood. "Ah, no, thank you. I'm fine."

"He's just jealous of my overwhelming mental faculties." Abraham cut in.

"Anyways!" Arrekk announced, "You look like a warlord."

"If I were a foolamancer, I'd tell you that looks can be deceiving. But I'm not, so I won't. I'm a warlord."

"Well," said Arrekk cheerfully, "You're my first, and so that makes you my Chief Warlord. Congratulations."

"Thank you sir. My name is Michael."

Michael stood taller than Arrekk, but a bit shorter than Abraham. He had black hair cut short and rich brown wings. He wore chain mail and had a flaming sword strapped to his belt.

"So here are your first instructions," Arrekk told him, "I want you to manage the city, until I think of something better for you to do. During that time I'll start popping some basic infantry, and then you'll have some units to command."


Three turns later, Michael came to Arrekk with a request. Animus had, during that time, popped three stacks of stabbers, eight units each. Arrekk had been delighted to see that they all were classified as a special race: Angel. This gave them the flight special, as well as extra combat against uncroaked, witches and daemons. Arrekk, Abraham, and Michael were technically Archangels, a term that, like royal, gave them boosted stats as well as the usual angelic specials.

"My lord," Michael said to him, bowing, "I would like to offer an idea that came to me while inspecting the troops. It struck me that we assume to have this valley to ourselves, but we haven't the slightest idea if we really do. All of our units have flight and at least thirty five move; we could scout out the valley easily with a very low chance of being ambushed, and determine for good that there are no barbarians waiting three hexes away, gathering strength to ambush us."

"Well, it's a good idea in theory. But I'm afraid to lose you. Thirty stabbers is not much manpower." Arrekk turned and looked down at Abraham from his throne. "Can you make a prediction? Will he croak on this outing?"

"Sir, that is far too specific for my current capabilities. I can, however, make a prediction on how Michael will croak."

"Do that then."

Again the blue light appeared around Abe and he recited:

The traitor, the snake
Returns from enemy lands
And fights against us.

He stopped and asked, "What did I say this time?"

"It was a haiku." Michael replied, smirking.

"Ugh, never mind then. I've never liked those blasted poems."

"Alright Michael," Arrekk said, laughing. "We only have twenty-seven units, and none have betrayed us or even gone to enemy lands. I think it's safe."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Dec 20, 2009 7:04 pm

Two turns later was Arrekk's fifth centennial. To celebrate, he ordered the dining hall to pop multicolored streamers, which clashed horribly with the gold and silver decor. Michael's stack had not yet returned from scouting, so the two stacks of angelic archers that had been recently popped were invited to the dining room to eat their extra cake rations with Arrekk and Abraham.

Part way through the celebration, one of Michael's stabbers entered the hall, stood on the table, and announced, "Lord Arrekk of of Animus, Chief Warlord Michael the Archangel and the stabber regiments of Draviston respectfully present to you a new city as a centennial gift."


Later, in the throne room, the stabber gave his full report. "Lord Michael wishes for me to tell you that he has confirmed what you suspected: we are the only side, including barbarians, to possess units within the valley. Several wild units were encountered, and Lord Michael has leveled while in combat against them. No casualties have been taken. The most noteworthy units are 'qwers,' tunnel-capable heavies who look like big dwagon heads with spiked tails.

As for the city, we claimed the level three on the western side of the valley. Lord Michael requests your presence there next turn so that he may consult with you on his orders, and to show you the defenses and have you name it. He also has a special request to ask of you, information about which I am not privy to."

Arrekk processed this information for a moment then replaced the stack of archers he was popping with another warlord. "Very well, we will visit Lord Michael on the next turn."


This was the first time that Arrekk had left Animus since he became overlord. The feel of wind rushing over and under his wings was still new to him, and he despaired that the journey was so short; the new city was only 21 hexes away from Animus.

It appeared quickly, seemingly modeled after Animus but made of glimmering bronze. The few differences included: The tower was shorter, and only one column, topped with a rectangular building surrounded by ornamental pillars. The outer walls were also thicker, and from their towers rose the full might of Michael's stabbers. With the sun reflecting off of their silver uniforms and golden swords, Arrekk felt like the most powerful man on Erf.

Michael met him at the base of the tower. The archangels clasped hands, and entered the tower alone. "Well," asked Michael, "what do you think?"

"It's incredible," Arrekk replied. "The bronze makes it look so imposing. Why did you pick that?"

"I figured that if it is to be a subordinate city to Animus, and a level below, it ought to be made of a less valuable metal. What's new at the capital?"

The insides of the tower consisted of a single spiral staircase, sandwiched between two walls, so thin that they were forced to walk in a line. "Oh, not much. We popped two stacks of archers."

"That is what I'm working on now. See these?" Michael pointed to a row of slits cut into the walls that faced in towards the center of the tower. "This is the key to defense in the city. Another staircase runs on the other side of this wall. Our archers can hide in there and shoot their crossbows out at the invading army as they enter the tower. And since it is so thin, they will be forced to walk single file like we were. It will be a massacre."

"But Michael, our archers have longbows, not crossbows."

"Ah, you have stumbled upon my request. I would like for you to hire a changemancer from the Magic Kingdom to cast a permanent spell which will change the longbows of all entering allied units to crossbows."

The two bypassed the door which led down into the inner stair and entered the rectangular building by means of a trapdoor. They took a right into a room with an inactive portal on the wall.

"Alright Michael," Arrekk decided. It'll be exorbitantly expensive, but I think that we can do it. I'll send a stabber to get Abraham so he can go into the portal for us. But we can't invite a guest into an unnamed city! I hereby name it Templum."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Mon Dec 21, 2009 4:57 pm

The changemancer's name was Tally. She cast the spell for Michael, and only then did she inform them that it would cost 65,000 schmuckers. Michael had to pin her to a wall before she agreed to bargain. Arrekk eventually struck a deal. She was to cast another spell for them, and it would cost another 15,000 schmuckers. Still a bit overpriced, but Arrekk was in a good mood; Michael had leveled again from fighting her.

After Tally was gone, Arrekk gave Michael his new orders. "I want you to run this city until the next warlord is done popping. In the meantime, start sending some stabbers to patrol the valley, I want them to capture any qwers they come across and bring them back to Animus. I want some heavies to defend the tunnels."

He and Abraham waited a turn and then returned to Animus. After only one more turn, the new warlord popped. She was dressed in a purple-black trench coat with silver lining. Her wings were glossy and black, reminiscent of a raven. "You look...kinda like a warlord." Arrekk said when she popped."

The new unit sneered. "Looks can be deceiving."

Arrekk looked at Abraham. "Oh, so you're a foolamancer."

She looked surprised. "Ah, yes. I am. My name is Seprenta."

"Ugh" Arrekk grunted, "I always get caster when I really need a warlord."

Seprenta had apparently gotten over her surprise. "Why would you possibly prefer a sword-swinging idiot to me? I have power over the minds of men, the ability to turn a battle with a flick of my finger. You are a fool, and I should know."

Their relationship started on a bad foot and didn't get any better. Arrekk had taken to spending a lot of time reading in the library, and was very disgruntled when interrupted. So two turns after she popped, Seprenta did just that. Arrekk was perusing a history of Faq when the foolamancer sauntered into the room. "learning about the past?" She laughed, "Why bother? That stuff is over and done, it's the future that matters. Just ask your predictamancer."

"This is the past of this city." Arrekk snapped. "I can learn from what they did to defend."

"I say it again: you are a fool. This city fell twice. You would be dooming us by copying them."

"I can learn from their mistakes Seprenta. I can avoid making the same ones."

"You think you have the willpower? You will see what they did, and it will stay in your mind. You'll always be tempted to imitate them, at least in part. And you will, eventually. After all, you are a fool."

At this, Arrekk lost his temper. "You know what, girl? You're right. The only way to avoid this is to eliminate the temptation. You know what Faq's original strategy was? They used a predictamancer to see which of their cities would be approached next, and then they used a foolamancer to veil it." Fear grew in Seprenta's eyes. "Oh, you understand me. But don't worry, I won't disband you. That would mean that I wasted three turns popping you. No, instead I will banish you. Leave Draviston. Go work for some other sides, be a mercenary. I forbid you to ever drop any clues that might lead to our being discovered."

Seprenta's fear was replaced with fury. "You dare banish me? You are a fool. I was simply trying to inflame you before but now I know it is true. Rethink that decision now, master, and I will forgive you." She spat out the words like venom.

Arrekk stood and drew his sword. "Leave now, bitch, and I will forgive you. Or else I will disband you, at the edge of my sword."

The exile seemed ready to challenge that for a moment, then turned and fled. Out the window, Arrekk saw her winging away toward a tunnel that led to the outside world.

Abraham stepped from his concealed hiding place in the corner. "You were right to do that, Arrekk." He said, laying his hand on the overlord's shoulder. "Repeating the mistakes of the past will be your downfall. I have foreseen it."

"I won't do just hide here in this paradise for my entire life. We have been given a small piece of what erfworld used to be like. It is our fate to go and spread this, by the sword. I will not hide. I will fight."


The titans even in their slumber heard his words. They awoke, and rid the land of the dust, of the orange sky. There was a new hope on erf.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Dec 22, 2009 5:49 pm

It rained for seven turns. Across Erf, sides feared that after so much time as a wasteland the world was ending. When the rain finally stopped, everything had changed... for the better.


By Arrekk's 510th turn, two new warlords had been popped, a woman named Gabriel, who replaced Michael as regent, and a man named David. Fifteen qwers had been captured and delivered to Animus, eight were brought to Templum. Along with 76 archers and Gabriel, they composed all of the level three's garrison. Animus had also popped four units of twonicorn cavalry.

Because of the rain, the crater on the northeast of the valley had filled up, as well as the dry riverbed running into it. This was what led to Arrekk's decision to make a third city. David, two qwers, and a twonicorn went over to the new lake and built a city there; a simple level one called Vita. It was only able to produce archers and stabbers, since warlords were for level two's and twonicorns were for level three's. It had a pointlessly low stone outer wall (about four feet), a taller wooden garrison wall, and a two-story tower. Its main feature was the dock where a small fleet of fishing ships stayed, designed to pick up the slack on income, now that most of Erf could farm again.

Arrekk was very pleased with his side's progress, especially three turns later, when he popped his third caster. He was named Uriel, a shockmancer, medium height (but still taller than Arrekk) and bald, wearing golden clothing and bearing electric blue feathers, like those of a jay's tail.

"Shockmancy," He explained to Arrekk, "is very versatile. It is the most strictly offensive magic, and at higher levels a shockmancer can croak some units with a single spell, especially because it does double damage on flying units. I will gain my first damage dealing spell at level two."

"At level two?" Arrekk asked, "What can you do now?"

"Mostly stunning," Uriel replied, "I can also set up a simple trap that, when triggered, will light up the stack like a beacon visible from up to ten hexes away. It also has a chance of blowing any foolamancy on nearby units."

"Great! Here are your first orders: go out to the gap, take a stack of the stabbers that are running around looking for qwers. Set as many of those traps as you can."

"It will be done, lord."


Two turns later, the traps went off. Alarms blared throughout Animus's tower, setting the garrison into a frenzy. Arrekk, using a sending hat, told Gabriel and and David to go on high alert. David sent his qwers from Vita to defend the capital; his was the closest city to the gap but also the least valuable. In Templum, the archers moved into their hidden staircase. Michael quickly assembled a first line of defense: he and Arrekk both lead stacks of six twonicorns from Animus, including the one that had been sent from Vita. Uriel and Abraham both led stacks of stabbers, seven each. This effectively emptied Animus's garrison, save for ten stabbers, recalled from hunting duty, and seventeen qwers.

Uriel's trap had dispelled a veil that had been hiding the most powerful force that Arrekk had ever had the misfortune of seeing. "He ordered a general halt and called for Michael, Abraham, and Uriel to break stack, land, and talk with him. "Alright, there's no way we can stand up to this. We have twelve twonicorns and fourteen stabbers. They have, what, forty archons? Michael, you're the chief warlord, talk to me."

"Well... it doesn't look good. But as soon as the trap went off, kudos to you, Uriel, on that one, they stopped. Some archons have leadership, so it's probably safe to assume that they won't auto attack. But if it does come to a battle, we're screwed."

Arrekk processed this, then asked Uriel, "Is there anything you can do?"

"If it comes to a battle, lord, then I may be able to stun a few. Nowhere near enough to tilt the scales."

"Abraham, can you give us a prediction?"

The old archangel's brow furrowed. "There is some... resistance. The titans' presence is strong now, they have the power to change fate. I can see... many futures stemming from this encounter. I see Animus in ruins. I see the world under your command. I see everything in between. It is... impossible to tell which will occur."

There was silence. Finally Arrekk said, "Michael, you are now officially my heir designate. Congratulations. Take control of my stack, I'm going to talk with them. If I'm croaked, take everything and return to Animus, order David and Gabriel to do the same. Try to fight them off, and if you succeed you can retake the cities."

"Lord, I can't let you do this! Duty commands me to-"

Arrekk hit him. Hard. "Listen to me, and do as I say. All of you." Then he took off, towards the gap.

Arrekk entered the archons' hex. They were not yet at war, so they both could share a turn. Their commander glided forward: a beautiful blonde, level 10, with leadership, foolamancy, and plenty of other specials. She alone could croak him.

"Hello, Overlord Arrekk of Draviston. Our leader is very interested in you." She looked at first glance to be flirting with him, but a steely glint flashed in her eyes.

"Where is your leader? I demand answers to several questions."

"He's not here right now. He's still back home." She raised her hands to his face. Arrekk began to draw his sword, but before he could do anything she cast her spell.

Arrekk appeared in an empty huge blue room, wearing some sort of odd red jumpsuit. A voice billowed around him, "Hey there Arrekk! Bet you have some questions for me."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Heh, I was right. I always am, really. Don't worry, you haven't really gone anywhere. This is my own special brand of thinkagram. As for who I am, you can call me Charlie."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Dec 23, 2009 5:48 am

"How did you findout about us?"Arrekk asked. "Did Seprenta tell you?"

"Seprenta?" Charlie seemed confused. "Oh that foolamancer girl. Hah. No. See kid, I'm from an earlier time. I've had Charlescomm since back before the Last Great War. I was very interested when the world magically returned to the same state it was in back then. And then it rained, which was the kicker. I haven't seen rain in a very long time."

"What does this have to do with us?"

"I have archons everywhere kid. When the rain began and ended, every one of them alerted me. When I made a chart of their positions, it led me to believe that the storm was centered around here, in the city of Faq."

"It's not called Faq anymore, Charlie. It's Animus now."

"What it's called doesn't matter of course. What does matter is what sort of deal we can make out of this."

"What gives you the authority to say that we need to make any deal?"

"I'm sorry, I misspoke. My army of archons flying outside your precious little valley says that we need to make a deal. And yes, that is a threat."

"I think you've made a tactical blunder Charlie. I can pull everything I have back to Animus and forty archons will not be enough."

"I know that, of course. That's why I have an army of mountain giants advancing through the tunnels on the opposite side of the valley."

"Fine. I give in. What did you have in mind?"

"That's the spirit, Arrekk! I was thinking a candlelit affair, then a walk on the beach..."

"Very funny."

"M'glad you think so! Seriously now, we'll start this partnership with something simple, like... you tell me all of your major tactical movements and I'll ally with you and give some assistance whenever needed. Erf has been kinda messy since the cataclysm, and I think you can bring it to normal."

"What do you know about the cataclysm? Since you were alive then."

"Alive? I was one of the major participants! I lost over 600 archons at the Third Battle of Faq, but Parson just steamrolled the city and decrypted them all. They were on the way to Charlescomm to croak me and get my arkendish so that they'd have all four of the tools, but the Titans confronted them and Wanda Firebaugh went insane and ordered her army to attack them. The arkentools were more powerful than anybody realized... as strong as the titans themselves. But this was fun! I hope to deal with you more soon!"

"Don't forget to call off those mountain giants."

"Oh don't worry that was a bluff."

The thinkagram dissolved and Arrekk found himself standing back in front of the archons. The blonde leader was holding out a contract. "Just sign here," she said cheerily, "and Draviston will be allied with Charlescomm under the conditions decided upon by Charlie over the thinkagram."

Quickly skimmed the document. At the bottom, in big red letters, it read, YOUR SOUL IS MINE. Arrekk pointed it out to the archon who laughed and said, "Charlie's little joke." She tapped the offending sentence with her finger and it vanished.

Arrekk sighed and pushed 'I accept.'
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Dec 23, 2009 11:22 pm

On Arrekk's 525th turn, he decided that he was ready to make his move. Since his encounter with Charlie thirteen turns ago, he had popped nearly twice the number of units he previously had. His full roster of forces now tallied up to:

Animus, level 4:
32 twonicorn cavalry
32 knight-class infantry
24 qwer heavies
1 Predictamancer, Abraham, level 1
1 Shockmancer, Uriel, level 2
1 Warlord, Rezin, level 1
1 Chief Warlord, Michael, level 4
1 Overlord, Arrekk, level 6

Templum, level 3:
154 archer-class infantry
16 qwer heavies
1 Warlord, Gabriel, level 3

Vita, level 1:
16 stabber-class infantry
14 archer-class infantry
6 qwer heavies
1 Warlord, David, level 2

Gabriel and Uriel took twelve of both knights and twonicorns as well as eight qwers from Animus. Out of Templum came forty archers. While the new warlord, Lewis, took over Gabriel's duties as regent of Templum, the force proceeded off to the west. They traveled through a dense network of tunnels which gave the twonicorns such an outrageous penalty to move that it took two turns to make it out of the valley.

Charlie had located a target for them: a side called Firesquare. It was in the process of being conquered by Falamana, and was reduced to only two cities: a level three, which was the site of a stalemate between the two opposing armies, and the capital, Flameshape, a level four. Its garrison was nearly emptied to help in the fight on the front lines, and its back was to the Minty Mountains, where nobody expected another side to be lurking.

Draviston's forces erupted from the tunnels, Gabriel and Uriel flying first, carrying a banner with the new crest upon it. Behind them galloped the twonicorns with their knightly riders, lances pointed toward the sky. In the rear flew the archers. The only units on the ground were the qwers, wriggling and squirming forward while emitting a vicious bellow.

Flameshape's few defenders scurried to prepare to defend the capital from this unexpected assault. Draviston's first battle had begun.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 24, 2009 1:24 pm

From the walls of Flameshape, a legion of archers opened fire, but their orders must have been unclear as half the flaming arrows shot towards Gabriel and half went after the qwers, a sign that if the city even contained a warlord he was not with them. The flying group dodged with ease and continued the charge, while the qwers burrowed below ground and entered the tunnel zone.

Draviston's archers returned fire, but the battlements of Flameshape's wall provided cover. When the defenders rose to fire another volley, Uriel cast a mass stun. A few archers fell off the walls completely, but the majority passed out on the ground. Eight lancers disembarked from their twonicorns and slaughtered the sleeping bowmen.

Twenty firebirds took off from the tower, one mounted by the city's regent, a level 6 warlord in blazing red armor and a helmet. Gabriel quickly gave her orders: "You," she said pointing at the only knight with leadership, "take command of this stack of lancers and fly over the garrison wall to capture the courtyard, since it's undefended. After you've done that, go down into the dungeon and take command of the qwers. Destroy any resistance and then come back to the surface. When he does that, the rest of you rendezvous with us in the air to take out these firebirds. Now go!"

The knight stack did as she asked, while she took the remaining four lancers and the twelve twonicorns to engage the birds. "Uriel, take command of eight of the unmounted twonicorns, I'll get the other four and their riders! Steer clear of that warlord!"

"Yes, lady!" he shouted, mounting one of the flying horses, then wheeled away to the left in an attempt to flank. The firebirds had an advantage in numbers plus a higher level warlord, but the twonicorns were superior units, about as good as light fliers could get. Not only this, but the birds were compressed into a single stack so that they would all receive the warlord's full bonus. As a side effect, this prevented them from maximizing their numerical superiority with the stack bonus.

The red warlord screamed and charged at Gabriel, his firebird blowing out a twisting inferno. The rest of the stack followed suit, and although the knights took cover behind their shields, Gabriel was forced to break stack and drop to dodge. Just then, the two stacks collided and Gabriel realized what the warlord's plan was. He had forced Gabriel to break stack, meaning that his troops had six times the leadership bonus, as opposed to just twice as high.

But in his berserk rage, the warlord had apparently forgotten about Uriel. His twonicorns rammed the firebirds from behind, the full force of their charge tripling their damage. Six enemies dropped from the air, the inferno on their wings snuffing out. Uriel shot a crackling bolt of energy at another firebird, bringing the casualty rate up to seven. Before the sparks had even disappeared, he was attacking again this time attempting to stun the warlord. His spell made a direct hit, forcing the bird into an unconscious dive. Gabriel sprung into the air to deliver the coup de grace, and beheaded the bird. The warlord, however, leaped from his mount onto another, and the battle continued.

Now the knights from the courtyard had rejoined the battle, and mounted the twonicorns they had left in Uriel's care. Gabriel retook command of her stack and fell back a hundred feet. They had taken no casualties, but most had very few hits left. Ah well, the defenders were by now down to only seven birds. They charged.

Their force ended the last of the firebirds. One more step remained in the fight. He was the only unit belonging to Firesquare still in the battle, but the warlord did not give up. As his last firebird croaked, he launched himself off of it, straight at Gabriel. He collided with her in midair, and together they slammed into the courtyard ground. Gabriel's hits plummeted down to three. The red warlord raised his gauntleted fist. His eyes were the only things Gabriel could see through his helm. They were proud, angry, and smiling.

And then he was sent flying off her chest. A little bit of Uriel's spell hit her, and she lost another hit. "Sorry, Gabriel," he said, "Lighting can be a bit wild."

Gabriel smiled. "I'm not complaining. Come on, what happened to the warlord?"

He had gone flying into the center of the courtyard, but stood up and charged again, screaming. "For the love of the Titans, this guy doesn't give up. Zap him again Uriel."

Uriel sounded panicked. "I can't! I'm out of juice! I wish I had some sort of weapon!"

He didn't end up needing one. The qwers exploded out from underground and encircled him. The lancer commanding them stepped into the circle and said "Give up now. You can't poss-" The warlord attacked again. He tackled the knight and slammed his head into the ground. He was about to deliver the finishing blow, when chains popped around his arms and legs. The knights had taken advantage of the distraction and captured the tower. The battle was over.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 24, 2009 3:03 pm

A few hours later, Gabriel received a thinkagram. They had razed Flameshape, renamed it Ignivultus, and rebuilt it in much the same design. It was square, with towering outer and garrison walls. It's tower had been a simple rectangular structure, but now it was a towering obelisk pointing to the sky. The entire city was made out of red stone and huge slabs of rubies, save for the tower, which was a translucent flickering gem.

"Who is this?" Demanded the 'gram's sender.

"What kind of question is that?" Asked Gabriel, smirking. "You called me."

"I am Gimfor, Crown Prince of Falamana, and you captured my city."

"I am Gabriel, Warlord of Draviston, and I though I was fighting Firesquare this whole time."

"I was to conquer the entire side and then my father would spin it off as a new side, under my control!" The prince's face was naturally ugly, but the utter wrath currently portrayed made him look like a monstew.

"Well, why don't you anyway? One city isn't too big a difference."

"I can't! Flameshape is on a capital site! I need it to make a new side!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Gimfor!" Gabriel smirked. "I guess you just need to wait for your daddy to croak."

"I'm not much for the waiting game, warlord. But I can wait a couple turns."

"Will that really be long enough for him to croak?"

"No, most likely. But it will be long enough for you to croak. See, as soon as the King of Firesquare learned that his capital fell and his heir was captured, he called a truce-"

"His heir was captured?"

"Oh, I see you didn't realize just how big your prize was! But yes, that angry, idiotic, berserker you captured is the Crown Prince of Firesquare. Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, he called a truce with us and winged off to retake his city and rescue his son. So have fun chickie, according to my lookamancer, you're screwed."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to be ready. The more of his units you croak in the attack, the less I have to croak to get me my side. So you better prepare. Firesquare has next turn." Gimfor's laughing face disappeared.

Gabriel jumped from a window in her new tower room. Her brown wings stayed folded until she was barely a hundred yards from the ground, then she opened them and slowed just enough to avoid taking damage. After all, she would not be able to heal until after Firesquare attacked. She dashed into the dungeon and pulled Uriel away from where he was torturing the Prince.

"Uriel," She gasped, "Firesquare is on the move. Go into the Magic Kingdom and hire a healomancer, master class, whatever the cost. Most of our units are down to their last ten hits, but if the 'mancer can fix them all, we'll have the same strength we attacked with. Then inform the troops, do something to get them ready. I'll take over with the prisoner."

"Yes, my lady! But let me warn you that he has not said a single word yet, he has very high loyalty and-"

"GO!" Gabriel screamed at him.

Uriel quickly left. Gabriel took a minute to calm herself, then entered the torture room. The Prince was no longer in his armor, but instead wore nothing but pair of shorts. His muscular chest had nearly a dozen vicious cuts on it from Uriel's interrogation. Now that his helm was off, Gabriel could see that he had short, pale red hair, and was exceedingly handsome, although the fire of hate still burned in his eyes.

Violence had failed to work so far. She tried a different method.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 24, 2009 8:36 pm

It worked. When Gabriel finally exited the room, the unit who followed her was no longer Zadkiel, heir to the throne of Firesquare, but rather Zadkiel, the highest level warlord in Draviston. She handed him his new raiment, plate armor of the same style that he previously wore, but now it was modeled the same way as the other warlords': all infantry units wore the same raiment, but warlords were allowed to pick their own color with a silver trim and the crest of Draviston on the chest. For example, Gabriel's was green, Michael's deep blue, and now Zadkiel's red.

The two of them found Uriel and the healomancer, who restored Zadkiel's hits. The healomancer was dismissed to the Magic Kingdom, and then Zadkiel gave his information. "My father King Burkian went personally to defend Trinfernangle from Price Gimfor of Falamana, and took almost everything we had. We never expected you to come out of the mountains. I got a thinkagram from my father at the beginning of yesterturn, and he told me what units he had left. As of the start of this turn, his force consisted of: a king, level 10, five noble warlords, levels 8, 6, 6, 5, and 2, five red dwagons, 153 archers, 387 stabbers, 198 pikers, 33 sourmanders, 51 firebirds, and two casters: a thinkamancer and a mathamancer."

"That little?" Asked Uriel, surprised.

"He set out with much more," Zadkiel explained, "but he has been fighting small battles every turn with Falamana for nearly twenty turns. On a similar subject, it is likely that he has fought some already since then. Even so, from what I have seen of the forces now defending this Flameshape-I mean Ignivultus-there is little chance of success. If you tell me the exact numbers, I may change my mind."

Gabriel enlightened him, saying, "Besides the forces in Faq Valley, Draviston currently has you and me, two warlords levels 6 and 4, Uriel, a shockamancer level 3, twelve twonicorns, twelve knight lancers, forty archers, and eight qwer heavies. I know, it doesn't look good."


With a tremendous roar, the army of Firesquare entered the hex. Zadkiel quickly counted: 4 dwagons, 4 warlords, about 150 archers, 300 stabbers, 150 pikers, 26 sourmanders, 42 firebirds, and a caster, impossible to tell what kind. "Soldiers of Draviston!" Yelled King Burkian, "You have attacked Firesquare in an unprovoked..." The King's voice started as an angry roar, but petered out to nothingness. "Zadkiel..." he whispered "You turned."

"Yes father," Zadkiel said, his voice strong but even.

"No... Come back to me. Please."

"I... I cannot." he glanced at Gabriel, who was on the twonicorn next to him.

"Then I will have to take you by force, Zadkiel. everybody, attack! Capture my son but croak the rest!"
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Fri Dec 25, 2009 8:15 am

The archers opened fire upon Burkian's dwagon. The best roared and unleashed a blast of fire at the wall defenders. It and the other three dwagons landed and began bto bash their heads into the wall. Quickly it started to break. Gabriel ordered a retreat. "Archers, fall back to the garrison walls! You, take the qwers underground again, just like last time, and get rid of the sourmanders. All other knights and twonicorns, take to the air."

As Firestone's troops began to pour through the breach in the outer walls Draviston's archers unleashed another hail of golden arrows from the garrison walls. Infantry dropped quickly, but just then the flying units took off. King Burkian led a stack of four dwagons and three firebirds, the rest of the birds were divided up among two of his other warlords. Burkian's dwagons rushed toward the defenders, forcing them to break stack and scatter.

Gabriel handed out more orders: "Uriel, take three knights and three twonicorns, plus your own mount, and take out the birds, targeting warlord mounts first! Zadkiel, you and I will both take three of each and go after the dwagons! You, knight with leadership, take the rest and help Uriel! Now charge!"

Gabriel's and Zadkiel's stacks rushed at one of the dwagons, hoping to receive the charge bonus. The dwagon released a burst of flame, knocking one of Gabriel's knights out of his saddle. The rest of the small force impacted upon the dwagon's face and neck, croaking it instantly. It's mammoth corpse crashed down into the city, crushing a stack of pikers.

Uriel and the knights were decimating the firebirds, but they had taken casualties. Below, the archers still managed to hold off the swarm of infantry, but they were far too numerous. Then King Burkian rallied his dwagons and Gabriel turned her attention back to her own battle.

The lancer in command of the qwers was named Gorin. He had commanded the qwers during the first battle for Flameshape, against a measly four sourmanders. This time he had counted nearly twelve times that many. Riding a qwer was a strangle feeling. They lacked legs, so they moved by wriggling like worms and then taking a small hop to build momentum. They were moving slowly now but could really book it when the need arose. Qwers came in several different colors and looked slightly like dwagons, but didn't have a breath weapon. Nevertheless, Gorin was sure that the two were related. Just then, a stack of sourmanders appeared at the end of the tunnel, and Gorin charged.

Uriel had succeeded in dismounting and croaking one of the enemy warlords, a level 6, opening the way for his knights to croak the stack. Firesquare's level 8 Chief Warlord was now hard on his tail, swinging a scimitar while Uriel tried to concentrate hard enough to cast another spell. Before long, he gave up and produced the mace he had had crafted after the previous battle. He rather enjoyed the feel of slamming a large ball of steel into somebody's face. The warlord whipped his head back around and raised his blade again, for the last time. Nothing would ever feel quite as good to Uriel as magical lightning.

As the warlord croaked, his firebirds lost their huge bonus. Now, the last 16 birds were actually rather weak. Uriel ordered the knight stack to mop them up, while he took his units to help Gabriel. The twonicorns now greatly outnumbered the dwagons, and mobbed one of the three remainders, jabbing it with 22 horns and 9 lances, plus two swords. Needless to say, it croaked.

The two remaining dwagons billowed flame as they rushed toward the mob of units, tearing through the flock. Burkian's massive armored red emerged from the other side holding Gabriel in its claws, her twonicorn croaked. The beast opened its mouth wide, but no fire emerged. It was going to eat her. "NO!" Zadkiel charged the dwagon, swinging his sword wildly. He seemed possessed with the same rage as the previous turn. He stood in the saddle of his twonicorn and leaped onto the dwagon's back.

Below, the infantry had begun to breach the garrison wall. The archers kept up a steady fire, but it was nowhere near sufficient. Seeing this, Uriel ordered all knights and their mounts down to the courtyard to replace them and deal with the foot soldiers. As for him, he had a dwagon to croak.

Gorin charged again. Despite the qwers' odd way of moving, it had a very smooth feel when riding them. He had lost a qwer to the previous two attacks, but now that the remaining seven sourmanders were led by a level six warlord, he expected more casualties. And now it seemed like he would be one of them. His brown qwer sprang forward at the warlord, massive jaws trying to clamp around its head. The enemy's sourmander dodged to the side, and the warlord slashed at Gorin with an axe. Another sourmander spat at his qwer from the opposite direction, driving the creature into a frenzy. It leaped so suddenly that Gorin tumbled backwards off of it. The warlord's sourmander stood over him, its puckered mouth seeming to smile. The warlord's mouth did smile, no seeming about it.

Six twonicorns, seven lancers, and 28 archers. Against... lets say 150 stabbers and 75 pikers. Oh, and the twonicorns and lancers had been fighting dwagons since the battle began. This hardly seemed fair. Well, courtyard was garrison, and that had to be defended.

Luckily for Uriel, the dwagon had broken stack from Burkian, and no longer received his outrageous bonus. Even better, it was down to less that a third of its hits. Even better, it was level 4. One below Uriel. "Dwagon, dwagon, compared to you I'm small, but dwagon, dwagon, I'll have your head on my wall. Whaddaya know, I'm a rhyme-a-mancer AND a shockmancer."

Burkian and Zadkiel stood on the dwagon's back, facing each other down. The caster that had been riding with Burkian seemed terrified, and stammered out, "S-s-sir, there is a 65.7% chance that Zadkiel will c-c-croak you, and a 21% ch-ch-chance that he will t-turn if-"

"Shut up Mathamancer," Zadkiel snarled, kicking the offending caster off the dwagon. "I never much liked you anyway." And he attacked. He wrestled the King to the ground, and so, Burkian made the logical move, and knocked him off the edge. He didn't have wings.

Then he realized what he had done. "ZADKIEL!" He yelled, diving with the dwagon. It released Gabriel, but she continued to plummet. Burkian caught up wwith his son and shouted, "Please Zad, get on the dwagon!"

"You tried to croak me." Zadkiel's eyes were dull and confused, as if this didn't make any sense to him. "I was in a berserker rage. I couldn't control myself. And you tried to croak me."

"No! It was an accident! It's not my fault!"

"It is, father. You're the one who did this to me. The ultimate warrior prince, that's what you wanted. And you didn't get it in me. So you changed me. It is your fault. I will never turn back to you."

"No! Zadkiel, don't-" And then Gabriel's sword emerged from his chest. She swooped down and caught Zadkiel, and her wings strained to keep them both up, but she manged to land on the outer wall.

Gorin held his lance horizontally to block the axe strike. He danced to the side as the sourmander spat at him, but was knocked to the floor and held down by its claw. The warlord prepared to croak him, when suddenly the insignia of Firesquare vanished from his armor, and he was smote by the spiked tail of a qwer.

As soon as the mob of infantry went barbarian, they stopped. A voice shouted from the middle of them, "I am the last noble of Firesquare! Charge, men, and I will claim this city! The kingdom has not ended yet!" The angelic archers picked this moment to open fire. The 'last noble of Firesquare,' a level two warlord, was croaked in the first volley. As soon as the knights charged, the battle ended. Ignivultus still belonged to Draviston.


That night, Gabriel received another thinkagram from Prince Gimfor. "So, you kept the city. I'm surprised."

"What do you want, Gimfor?"

"Just to congratulate you, and say that I will have my side. See you tomorrow."

Gabriel sighed and made a mental note to rehire that Healomancer. Just then, Zadkiel walked into her room. "You saved my life."

"Yeah," She answered, "I did."

"My father wanted the perfect warrior as a son. I was... weak, a pacifist. He used a magical item, made by twisted changemancers. I became berserker, when I enter battle I go insane... You saw last turn. I'm a monster. Why did you help me?"

"We're both warlords, on the same side. And we need your bonus for fighting Gimfor tomorrow."

"No." Zadkiel said quietly. "There's more, isn't there. Isn't there?"

Gabriel smiled. "Maybe, and maybe not."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Fri Dec 25, 2009 3:17 pm

Gabriel and Zadkiel woke up wrapped in each other's wings. In each other's wings. Zadkiel had wings. The feathers were shining scarlet, the color of a cardinal's wings. "Ah! When did you get wings? I had to save you yesterturn because you didn't have any!"

"I know! That's why I came here in the first place! They must have grown in my sleep!" They dressed themselves, and cut two slits in the back of Zadkiel's clothes for his wings. He then went down into the city to the forge to make similar holes in his armor. In the meantime, Gabriel searched the tower for Uriel and sent him back through the portal to rehire the healomancer.

After everybody's hits had been restored and the healomancer was been sent back to the Magic Kingdom, Gabriel called a staff meeting consisting of herself, Zadkiel, Uriel, and Gorin. She opened discussion by saying, "We took a lot of casualties in the battle yesterturn, but we won against all odds and may have even benefited from the leveling. Our current forces now number ten twonicorns, various levels but mostly mid-low; seven lancers, mid-high level; 28 archers, low levels; six qwers, low level; two warlords, levels 6 (me) and 7 (Zadkiel); and a shockmancer (Uriel), level 6. I would also like to propose that we promote Gorin to warlord, being that he is the only one among us who has experience with the qwers."

"My lady!" Gorin stammered, "I would be honored!"

"Excellent." Gabriel seemed satisfied, but unsurprised. "I will contact Lord Arrekk. Now, we have fought two battles for this city, and won them both. Except for you, of course." She looked at Zadkiel. "But anyway, we're not done yet. Prince Gimfor of Falamana is on his way here now with a force that is presumably even bigger than the one we just defeated. He has siege, though, and so will only barely be able to reach us on this turn. That means that we will have most of today to prepare. We must rebuild the city walls and send some important messages, among other things. Move out."


Gimfor's army entered the hex in a less spectacular way than Burkian's although the army itself was more impressive. Nearly 300 of each stabbers, pikers, and archers marched in perfect ranks along the ground, as well as over 50 gwiffons and battle bears. The Prince and four of his warlords were mounted upon huge, imposing megalogwiffs at the head of the column. Another ten MGs brought up the rear. With him on his megalogwiff sat the Prince's lookamancer and newly captured thinkamancer. Somewhere below with the troops marched a dollamancer.

Gimfor's voice rang out, magically amplified to a ridiculous degree. "Defenders of Flameshape, prepare-"

"It's called Ignivultus now!"

Gimfor paused. "What?"

"It's called Ignivultus now!" Uriel repeated.

"It doesn't matter what it's called!" Gimfor shouted. "It's a capital site, it will be the seat of power of my new kingdom, and you are trying to keep me from it. I will croak you all. You've interrupted me and ruined my intimidating speech."

"Don't worry about it, Gimmy," Gabriel smirked.

"GIMMY?" The Crown Prince of Falamana roared. "I will eviscerate you!"

"Tut, tut, now you're interrupting me. You of all people should know how rude that is. I think I have to punish you for that."

"You? Punish me? With your fifty light units? Hah! My megalogwiffs alone could defeat you!"

"Probably could," Gabriel replied, "which is why I have to punish you with somebody else's fifty light units. Go get 'em, girls."

And true enough, behind the army appeared a previously veiled force of 50 archons, who opened fire on the megalogwiffs. Dravison's units also charged, nailing the warlords and croaking half of them instantly. Like in the first Battle of Ignivultus, Draviston didn't lose any units in the third.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Dec 27, 2009 3:45 am

Arrekk was enjoying having the archons in Animus. He was currently with Adeline, the blond commander from the Pass Confrontation. "I feel kinda guilty about doing this while my forces are out fighting for their lives." He said.

"Oh, don't worry about it," the archon purred, "Gabriel and her new friend the Prince of Firesquare have been doing the same thing constantly since the battle ended." The two of them continued what they were doing for a while, then the archon suddenly stopped. "Incoming thinkagram," she said.

She put her hands into camera mode and an image of Gabriel appeared. "Hey Gabriel. What's going on?"

The warlord seemed surprised to see Arrekk with no shirt on, but managed to reply with "Well, uh, now that it's our turn again, I wanted to, uh, know what our new orders are."

"For now, consolidate and defend. Upgrade Ignivultus to a level 5, then restock on the knights and twonicorns, maybe another stack or two of archers. Send the new warlord, what's his name, Gorin, into the Minty Mountains, he should wind up with another qwer or two per turn. Is Falamana still in the battle space?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

"Excellent, we'll have a turn every turn then. Try to keep them out, they're a powerful side, even for Charlie's archons. We got lucky in that last battle."

"Yes, lord. End the call." The thinkagram blinked out and Arrekk happily returned to Adeline.



The stack approaching Ignivultus was led by a warlord with a mustache wearing green armor with blue leggings and a green helmet labeled with an I. He was riding strange green mount that looked slightly reptilian but stood on its hind legs, which were wearing red shoes. A line of small, round red spines ran down from its head to its short tail, and it had humanoid arms and bulging eyes over huge snout. Three more of these units followed him, although one was red instead of green and wore blue shoes. They were mounted by short people with swords whose heads bulged out above the eyes to nearly twice the diameter below. This extended portion was white with red polka-dots.

It had been seven turns since the Battles for Ignivultus were concluded.

The warlord entered the city and was greeted by Gabriel and Zadkiel. His stack stayed behind while they escorted him to a room in the tower. After the three warlords were settled, he opened the conversation by saying in a strange accent, "On-a behalf of-a King-a Mushroom and Princess Rose-a of the Fungal Empire, I congratulate you-a on-a the taking of-a this city. Firesquare has for a long-a time been a thorn in our-a side. In-a fact," he said looking at Zadkiel, "I believe that you spear-a-headed an assault upon us many-a turns ago-a. It is-a good to know that we-a may soon-a be working together."

"Working together?" Gabriel asked.

'Why yes-a, I have-a gotten ahead of-a myself-a. My name-a is Igiul, and I am-a here to offer you-a an alliance. I-a warn you, we have come with-a this request because-a we need-a military aid in a war against-a our ancient enemy-a, the Turta Kingdom. Fungal is-a a militarily weak-a side-a, but an-a economic giant who has-a been-a exporting food since the Apocawypse."

"I don't know about this," Zadkiel remarked, "I mean what's to stop us from allying with this Turta Kingdom and seizing your wealthy cities ourselves?"

"You would-a not have the chance-a!" Igiul snarled, "You may-a border Fungal, but-a you are many-a turns away-a from us! Turta would-a have finished their-a invasion by the time-a you were there-a. But with-a the knowledge of-a the land-a that I have-a, we could-a be there in time-a to save-a Fungal!"

"Alright Igiul," Gabriel said, "We'll contact our overlord and have an answer by the end of the turn."


The next turn, Igiul's stack, Gabriel, Zadkiel, 32 twonicorns, 30 lancers, and 25 archons departed Ignivultus for the Fungal Empire. They left Gorin as regent, with a garrison of Uriel, 18 twonicorns, 17 lancers, 28 archers, 25 archons, and 9 qwers. Not much, but they had defeated armies with less. The contract with Fungal that Charlie had ordered to be drawn up stated that Draviston's forces would remain in Fungal until such time as they were all croaked or the Turtan invasion was defeated. As a reward, Draviston's treasury would be boosted by a ridiculous amount: 500,000 schmuckers. Igiul wasn't kidding when he said that Fungal was an economic power.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Dec 27, 2009 5:37 am

During the trip, Igiul filled them in on everything they would need to know about Fungal. Included was a list of cities: Mush Town, the level 3 capital, Shiveropolis, a level 4, Navivilla, a level 2, Toadstool City, Fungal's only level 5, Thiefport, a level 3, Flowerburg, a level 1, Oolong Town, a level 3, and Picaly Hills, a tremendously wealthy level 4.

Unit choices for Fungal were very limited. They had no heavies, only basic infantry like stabbers, pikers, and archers recruited from the people in Igiul's stack, called Mushes. They also had the speedy mounts called Shiyos, like what Igiul was riding, which had the potential to be powerful. Like dwagons, a color is randomly chosen when they are popped. Most were green, which had average stats. Red Shiyos had a fire breath weapon, Pink Shiyos had enhanced move, Yellow Shiyos could create small earthquakes, Azure Shiyos had enhanced hits, Blue Shiyos have flight, Purple Shiyos have enhanced combat, and Brown Shiyos had enhanced defense. Black Shiyos and White Shiyos were the rarest and most powerful; they both had explosive powers, speak language, and Blacks had enhanced Hits and Combat, whereas Whites had enhanced Defense and Move.

The Fungal Empire was currently in possession of three casters: a Florist, a Moneymancer, and a Hat Magician. Besides this, they possessed three warlords: Igiul, who was level 3, Oriam, a level 7 Chief Warlord, and Princess Rose herself, a level 4. Apparently, King Mushroom was a semi-pacifist and didn't condone giving money to people who made their upkeep through mercenary work, so there was to be no help there.

After six turns of riding, the party arrived at Flowerburg. It had no outer wall and just a three story tower, with a 6-foot wooden fence as the garrison wall. In its garrison it had 60 of each stabbers, pikers, and archers. Shiyos didn't become available until level 2. They stayed for a turn and then moved on to their next destination, turning north on the way to the current battle around Shiveropolis.

The climate changed rapidly and after only four more turns they were there. Shiveropolis was far more impressive than Flowerburg, with its massive stone wall and tower made out of ice. The garrison was 600 pikers, 568 stabbers, 532 archers, and 319 Shiyos, 156 green, 34 red, 23 pink, 33 azure, 41 purple, 26 brown, 4 blacks, and 2 whites.

All three warlords were present once Igiul arrived. Oriam wore similar armor to Iguil's, but the green was changed to red and he had an O on his helmet. Princess Rose was decked out in fluorescent pink battle gear. They were poring over a map, discussing strategy when Gabriel and Zadkiel entered. "Their-a Turts won't-a be enough-a to-a penetrate if-a we position them-a along the garrison wall-a here-a, since most of their boom-boys-a will be-a used to break-a through the outer walls," Oriam was saying, "But on-a the other-a hand-a, their-a Paraturts and-a Parakuribos will-a be able to-a capture the walls if-a they are alone up-a there, unless-"

"AHEM!" Zadkiel yelled. "Your allies have arrived, and we're ready to earn our half-million schmuckers."

There was silence in the room for a moment,then Rose stood and grabbed Zadkiel by the hand saying, "Well, let me give you a tour of the defenses so that-"

Gabriel pushed between the princess and warlord and said coldly, "Maybe we should all just focus on this planning session so that we can tell you where our fliers can help."

"Fliers!" Oriam exclaimed, apparently unaware of the tension in the room. "Why we can put those above the outer wall, that will help us with their para-units! Excellent timing for you!"
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