Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Mon Dec 28, 2009 12:20 am

By the time that the Dravistite units arrived in Shiveropolis, Turta had already taken one of Fungal's cities, namely, Thiefport. Oriam estimated that after the battle, when the likely number of garrison units was deducted, that the Turtan army assembled at Shiveropolis was truly huge, with over 600 Turta infantry, 800 Kuribos, 250 mallet men, 300 paraturts, 600 parakuribos, 150 Gahs, 50 casturtas, 1000 boom-boys, and 450 of their Timid Trooper natural allies.

Because of the overwhelming odds, nobody expected to hold Shiveropolis, but instead to set up a meat grinder and decimate as many enemy troops as possible before the garrison fell. When the Fungal Empire's troops were almost entirely destroyed, the Hat Magician would open a portal for all warlords to escape through. The Turta Kingdom made a regular habit of taking and sacking as many of Fungal's cities as possible whenever they had enough troops, and then would pull all units, even garrison back to their home land and letting Fungal take everything back.

A strategy was eventually settled upon. The outer and garrison walls would be left undefended, but the archons and Draviston's fliers would defend the airspace above them. This would force Turta to use as many boom-boys as possible in order to breach the walls. Everything else would be stationed in the courtyard under the command of Igiul, Oriam, and Rose. When the tide of the battle was clearly turned against them, they and all surviving Dravistite units would escape to the next city, Navivilla.

On the turn of the battle, Gabriel and Zadkiel had serious doubts about their presence in the Fungal Empire. "Their defense strategy is idiotic," Zadkiel was saying. "They can't possibly defeat the Turta Kingdom unless they mass all of their forces together for one big battle, and hire some high-level mercenaries since all of their troops always get croaked."

"I know," Gabriel sighed, "but they refused to listen to me. Apparently their King has forbidden them to attempt a different strategy. He's his own worst enemy, without a doubt."

"And to make things worse, apparently Charlie's contract states that we need to defeat the Turtan army. We can't just keep falling back until they leave if we want to be paid. So-" Zadkiel was cut off by the sound of a horn signaling that the Turtans had entered Shiveropolis's hex. The two archangels threw themselves out of a window and rendezvoused with their units.

They both mounted twonicorns and quickly divided command. They each took 15 mounted knights, while the 25 archons were divided up among three who had leadership. the first enemy wave moved forward. Swarms of fliers assaulted their position. The units came in two types, paraturts, which were yellow turtle things with green shells and feathery wings, and parakuribos, squat white, armless figures with huge brown bell-shaped heads and wings.

"Are you serious?" Zadkiel asked to nobody in particular as the parakuribos attacked. They flew forwards at full speed and lowered their heads to ram enemies. He slashed out and croaked four of the marauders. The lancers and twonicorns only needed to lower their sharp objects (spears and horns, respectively) at the oncoming wave. The archons decided not to waste juice. A couple parakuribos got through, but they apparently had combat, defense, and hits stats of one.

Their true purpose became clear when the paraturts arrived. They were more powerful combatants, with a high-ish defense score due to their shells, and wielding shortswords. The parakuribos were obviously there to screen for them. When it became clear that fliers would not be enough to take the walls, hundreds of boom-boys marched forwards. They were essentially black balls with feet and fuses, who detonated when they hit the walls. After a hundred or so of these kamikazes, the walls crumbled and enemy infantry began to pour into the city. This was the fliers' cue to fall back to the garrison walls.

After the same cycle of flier attacks and then boom-boy assaults, these defenses also crumbled. Now was the first time that Arrekk got to see Fungal troops in action. The Mushes were valiant infantry fighters, slightly less potent than the enemy Turts. The Shiyos were more powerful than they appeared, with the strange ability to extend their tongues and suck in enemies, then instantly expel them as throwable eggs. The few black and white Shiyos' eggs exploded violently, croaking several enemy units at a time. It was nowhere near enough though, even with the archons raining fire on enemy hordes.

Before long, the war horn sounded again, signaling all valuable units to enter the tower and prepare for escape. Everybody was there who was expected, plus some that weren't expected, namely, four black and one white Shiyo. "This-a was a very good-a battle," Oriam exclaimed, "We-a croaked a good-a deal-a of Turts." On this happy note, they entered the portal.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 31, 2009 12:37 pm

Navivilla, Oolong Town, Flowerburg, and Pically Hills had fallen to the Turta Kingdom. Gabriel and Zadkiel were proud of themselves, though. They had convinced Princess Rose to give up Pically Hills without a fight and withdraw all units to Toadstool City. Mush Town also donated half of its garrison to the upcoming battle. Fungal's forces now outnumbered Turta's for the first time in thousands of turns. Neither Draviston nor Charlescomm had lost any units against the pathetic Turtan fliers.

The battle for Toadstool City began the same as any others: A fleet of Parakuribos sailed forward, followed by the paraturts. The 26 blue Shiyos now in the garrison went to town on the little brown fliers, while the twonicorns and lancers charged the flying turtles. They fell back, as usual, and boom-boys started parading towards the walls. Not a one made it. The Mush archers on the walls detonated them before they even came close. There was a slight pause in the battle before the invaders made their next move.

More fliers approached the Dravistite stacks, but they were something new. The casturtas had been as of yet unseen by Gabriel and Zadkiel, but Igiul had spoken about them on the way to Shiveropolis. They were knight-class infantry who were not technically fliers but came with their own popped magic broomsticks that allowed them to enter the airspace. Their primary feature was their limited spellcasting, which let them draw a bit from every class of magic. Below came a fleet of Gahs, roundish white flyers who hovered above the ground. As they sank straight through the outer walls, Zadkiel took down the blue Shiyos to deal with them.

The Shiyos opened fire upon the Gahs, launching their eggs down indiscriminately. The projectiles merely sank through. "Foolamancy," Zadkiel yelled, and rocketed back up to rejoin Gabriel. The casturtas were now close enough to be seen, little robe-wearing turts on broomsticks waving wands around. They began shooting some sort of magical projectiles at the archons, who returned fire. Gabriel rallied the knights for a charge.

They bounced off of some invisible barrier. When they tried moving around, they discovered that they had been enclosed in an invisible box: a tricky form of carnymancy. Zadkiel could do nothing but watch as the Gahs that he had written off as illusions slaughtered the wall defenders. A stray bolt from the magical duel struck one and croaked it, revealing what was apparently the creatures' only weakness. The archons were coming out on top in the battle above, so the casturta resorted to more trickery, casting a weirdomancy spell that negated all magic in the archons.

The allies were ignored for the rest of the battle while Turtan infantry seized the garrison with less casualties than in any previous battle, thanks to the casturtas and Gahs. Afterwards, the entire army left the city, but could only travel another hex away. They would lose the defense bonus, but they would need to take that move in order for their boom-boys to reach Mush Town on their next turn.


"Damn you!" King Mushroom shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "On account of your 'strategy' we are going to lose the Empire! Never before has the Turtan Kingdom had enough troops to assail Mush Town, but now? They are going to march here next turn and finally take the capital! I should never have sent Igiul to ally with you!"

"Lord King," interrupted an archon, "Draviston's strategy may have failed, but Charlie has one last trick up his sleeves. He has produced, courtesy of the twisted changemancers, a magical item that could save your side."

King Mushroom's face was distorted with an inner struggle between his desire for survival and his opposition of mercenaries. "What... what does it do?"

The archon smiled. She knew the King was hooked. "It will transform your Shiyos. After one turn in an egg created by this machine, they will be come... Shoobs, I believe the creators told us. They have one, and I was sent a picture of it." She put her hands into camera mode and used foolamancy to create an image of a vicious looking purple and green Shiyo that was twice the size of a woodsy elf. The image vanished. "All Shoobs are identical no matter what color Shiyo is used, so you may wish to use pinks or azures for this."

After a few more seconds of indecision, the King gave in. "Alright, archon. Tell me Charlie's price."

She grinned. "1,000,000 schmuckers."


The Shoobs were incredible. As soon as Turta began their siege, all sixteen of them leaped over the outer walls and tore through the enemy lines. By the time they were put down, nearly a third of the enemy forces had been croaked. They had targeted out the casturtas, so there was no opposition when the archons opened fire. Over 200 Shiyos and their riders, 50 of them blacks or whites, charged through the front gate. By the time the Fungal infantry reached the battle, it was just mopping up action.

King Mushroom refused to pay and even broke alliance because Charlescomm had saved the day, not Draviston. Zadkiel nearly had to be dragged out of the throne room. It turned out fine, though. Charlie donated 750,000 of his schmuckers from the Shoob factory as a reward for "opening new markets in a quickly expanding side."

Finally, after 38 turns, they set off for Ignivultus.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Dec 31, 2009 6:27 pm

Arrekk wanted to make a buffer zone surrounding Faq valley. Ignivultus was the first step in this process, and a launching point for future conquests. To the south was Falamana, to the west was the Fungal Empire, to the east was the Minty Mountains, and to the north was a jungle, unknown even to Charlie. It had sprung up within the seven turns of rain, and had not been penetrated by any units since. This was the target. It was probably only large enough to contain three cities at most, but there had been definite signs of life inside. Abraham had heard in the Magic Kingdom that the dirtamancers were abuzz about a new kind of super-valuable metal that could be mined there, and so they were also motivated by a wish to sustain Draviston's unstable economy.

Although he was Chief Warlord, Michael had never commanded an actual battle. So although he was to lead this assault, he was bringing Zadkiel and Gabriel as well as three newly popped warlords named Aaron, Esther, and Jacob. Uriel went of course, along with Draviston's fourth caster: a healomancer named Raphael. They had nearly emptied Faq valley of any troops for this battle, and so they took with them 108 twonicorns, 100 lancers, 80 qwers, and 450 archers. Charlie's forces were left behind to defend Ignivultus in the event of a surprise attack by Falamana, except for five who would serve as a communication system.

As soon as the army entered the jungle, Michael sent a scouting force. Four archers rose slowly above the treetops, and sank back down almost immediately. "Boss!" One of them yelled, "We found something! Dunno what it is though!" Michael winged up towards the treetops, and gasped. Towering above the canopy about twenty hexes away was a massive tree, over 1500 feet tall. After a cursory examination, it became obvious that it was a city.

He sent the archers to continue scouting, but to stay at least ten hexes away from the mammoth tree. He then called a staff meeting. "So," he said, "What do you guys make of it?"

"It seems like it holds an advantage for us," said Gabriel. "After all, our main force is in fliers."

"What if that isn't actually the tower though?" This was Esther, the most forward of the new warlords. She was mostly plain-looking, but with incredible silver wings.

"What do you mean?" Zadkiel asked.

"Well, what if the tree bark was like a huge, extended outer wall?"

"You think that could be possible?" Joseph's multi-colored wings fluttered in apprehension.

"Well, why not?"

"It doesn't matter either way," Aaron growled. "We'll just smash through."

"How could we do that?" Raphael snapped. "We don't have any siege."

"Well what about the shockmancer? He could blow a hole in their walls."

"I'm right here Aaron. And I might be able to, depending on how thick it is. It would probably take up most of my juice though."

"Well," Gabriel stated, "this is a forest side. I doubt that they have many fliers for you to deal with."

"That's a bad assumption to make, Gabriel." This was Michael now. "We can't assume anything."

Zadkiel jumped to her defense. "Well then we can't assume that the bark is an outer wall either!"

"He makes a good point," Jacob said. "I suggest that we wait for more information."

Last edited by Sinrus on Sat Jan 02, 2010 5:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sat Jan 02, 2010 5:50 pm

Thanks to the archons' foolamancy, more information was obtained by the scouts. Three cities were owned by the side, now known to be called Omaticaya: Kelutrel, the capital tree, a level 5, Utraya Mokri, a level 1 in a natural depression surrounded by a wall of roots, and Tire'em, a level 4 and the most fantastic of them all. It was situated in the "Hallelujah Mountains", a chain of massive chunks of rock floating above the jungle floor!

The most information had been gathered about this one; in fact, the only Omaticayan units yet seen were flying around this city. The main backbone unit of the garrison was called an Ikran, and was similar to a pterosaur, thin and half as long as a dwagon. They were colored blue or green with yellow slashes of color. The other unit seen was a Toruk. They were larger than the Ikran, but looked more or less the same. The only differences were color (red/orange) and that the heavy fliers had two pairs of sail-like wings, larger in front and smaller in back, which alternated flapping up and down. Both types of fliers were sometimes seen mounted by blue humanoids the size of woodsy elves.

The first encounter with Omaticayan forces occurred that night. The indigenous side somehow knew that they had been invaded, and sent out stacks of unlead scouts. One of these stacks stumbled into the main force of the Dravistite army and was annihilated. The attackers were called Nantang, and they possessed a special unseen by any before: nightcrawler, which allowed them to move in the interim between turns. The Nantang were hairless hexapodal dog-like units with shiny skin that looked like overlapped armor. Most disturbing were its paws, which were like leathery hands.

Omaticaya had the next turn. Early on, the invaders were approached by a stack of infantry made up of the blue people seen before. When Michael met their leader at a hex boundary, he had to hover in order to be at his opponents twelve-foot eye level. The warlord was level 10, hairy and blue with a long dark ponytail. He had feline features, including fangs, tail, and eyes. "I am Tey'Tsu," he growled, "ex-Chief Warlord of Omaticaya, now warlord under Jayk'Suly under Teyniri under Eytucan. I have been sent to demand that you leave the forest of Anesidora, which has been set aside for the Ni'va people by the titaness Eywa."

"I am Michael the archangel, Chief Warlord of Draviston and subordinate to Overlord Arrekk. I have a mission to obtain your alliance, or to conquer your side if you refuse."

Tey'Tsu hissed. "It is as I thought. We refuse your demand, and will crush you if you do not leave Anesidora on your next turn. I will, in that case, ask Chief Eytucan for the privelege to crushing your tiny skull." With this, the stack retreated back into the forest.


"They... are leaving?"

"It appears so, Chief. I am just as surprised as you are." Tey'Tsu was in an audience with Chief Eytucan, to discuss the surprising departure of Dravistite forces from the jungle Anesidora.

"What are the chances that Ting'Nari is wrong?"

"I am not a mathamancer, sir, so I do not know. But Ting'Nari has aptly warned us of any raids by feral Palulukan or Toruk in the past. There is no reason to believe that she would be mistaken."

"These are not Palulukan, Tsu'Tey. They are people. We have never been invaded before, and Ting'Nari may not know of what she speaks."

Tsu'Tey licked himself, his eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion. But he was determined to remain calm in front of the Chief, so he purred, "Chief, I met their leader and I assure you that-"

And then the explosions began.
Last edited by Sinrus on Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Jan 03, 2010 12:19 am

Ting'Nari burst into the audience room, her cat-like eyes dilated in fear. "Chief!" She screeched, "I was wrong! We are under attack! See here!" She practically tackled Eytucan and put her fingers into camera mode. A view of outside appeared, on the path that led to the main entrance to the tree-city. The Dravistite column stretched off the video feed, but all present could clearly see Michael leading a stack of catapults, which were launching massive flaming boulders at the trunk.

"Tey'Tsu," Eytucan said, struggling to remain calm, "get Jayk'Suly and four other warlords and destroy the catapults. Ting'Nari, get Fparmil in here. I will relay orders through him."

"Yes sir!" The two Ni'va shouted and rushed from the chamber.

The monsters were massive, six-legged crosses between rhinos and hammerhead sharks. Golden arrows streaked from the Dravistite lines when they charged from the trees, but the attacking Angtsik were unaffected. The enormous heavies lowered their T-shaped heads in preparation to slam into the catapults. They went straight through. Instead, tongues of electricity shot up from nowhere and engulfed the charging herd. The entire army vanished.

Back behind the front line of Angtsik, Tey'Tsu rode his Pa'li over next to Chief Warlord Jayk'Suly. "More foolamancy."

"I know, Tey'Tsu. The Angtsik were not harmed much, so it was a useless trick. When they reveal themselves to attack we will destroy them. Look, they come already!"

Indeed, from above the warlords came the flying army. Ni'va archers opened fire upon the fliers, but they were ineffectual. In fact, the entire force of fliers simply shot past the army into the city.

Tey'Tsu shouted in alarm, but Jayk'Suly calmed him down, saying, "We have warlords in the city, with the Ikran and my Toruk. If that is not another illusion, and I believe that it is, we will go to their rescue. In the meantime, we must remain on our guard."

Only a few moments later, a thinkagram appeared before the two. Chief Eytucan said to them, "Jayk, why are you not here! I can sense combat above the courtyard!"

"Forgive me Chief, I thought it was foolamancy! We're coming in now!" The call ended and Jayk started shouting orders. "Angtsik in first, so you don't rush ahead and trample us! Pa'li behind, then Palulukan, then Nantang!" The entire host fell into chaos as they tried to rearrange themselves.

From beneath the ground, all eighty of the qwers erupted into battle-frenzy, led by Aaron and Zadkiel. They fell upon the rear of the defending army and devoured the Nantang. The Omaticayans quickly overcame their surprise, and the Palulukan sprung into the battle.

The Palulukan were like panthers from hell, the size of twonicorns with glossy black and purple fur. None were mounted except for one, the rider being the warlord in command of them. The vicious animals' incredible speed allowed them to dodge most attacks by the clumsy, legless qwers and leap onto their backs. The tunnelers began to croak by the bucket load as they were numerically overwhelmed. The Nantang, who were pitifully weak compared to qwers, swarmed their targets and clamped down with jaws like steel. Before long, only a small pocket of resistance remained, thanks to Zadkiel's bonus. But when the Ni'va warlord's stack attacked, it became obvious that they would not survive.

Zadkiel's scimitar clashed against her spear. The incredibly tough wood didn't even dent. The warlord was wearing war paint that made her look like a peacock. A peacock with fangs, that is, who was trying to kill him. She hissed again, and her Palulukan jumped back to avoid a swipe from the red qwer's tail. In this brief interlude, Zadkiel saw her stats. She was level 9, the heir of Omaticaya, Teyniri. Zadkiel gritted his teeth and resolved to croak her.

When the panther leaped forward again with a snarl, he threw his scimitar like a javelin into the monster's throat, where it penetrated almost to the hilt. Zadkiel felt the berserker rage coming upon him, tried to fight it. It may well save his life, but he hated it above all other things. He urged his qwer forward to finish Teyniri off, but she ran to the side and dodged his charge. A Nantang pounced into Zadkiel's face, and he lost all control. The rage overtook him, and he tore the dog-thing apart with his bare hands.

Teyniri had produced a bow, had drawn back the string. The arrow penetrated through a kink in his armor and protruded from the other side. Zadkiel felt no pain. He tore it out and laughed, then threw it back and impaled her in the foot. He jumped from his qwer and removed his scimitar from the mouth of the Palulukan. A second arrow whizzed past his ear as he cut down another Palulukan which had gotten in his way.

Zadkiel charged the heir to Omaticaya. She grabbed her spear off the ground and held it out for him; in his fury Zadkiel would have thrown himself upon it hard enough to slide so far down the shaft as to still be able to croak her. It was Aaron who saved him. His brown qwer launched itself at Teyniri and bowled her over. It rolled off to the side, crushing several Nantang, before coming to a halt, Neytiri's spear stuck in its side. Aaron was crushed beneath it.

The Ni'va princess crouched over Aaron's body and grabbed him by the neck, crushing his windpipe with her huge hands and inhuman strength. Zadkiel charged again, only to be knocked down by his opponent. Without loosening her grip on Aaron, she held him to the forest floor and hissed, "Fayvrrtep fìtsenge lu kxani." These demons are forbidden here. She bared her fangs and prepared to rip his jugular out with her teeth.

Suddenly Neytiri stopped and screeched. She was buffeted by two enormous wings as Gabriel's twonicorn dove to the ground. Zadkiel's lover swung him into the saddle as Joseph flared his Technicolor Wings to drive back Nantang. Joseph grabbed Aaron from beneath the qwer and threw him onto another twonicorn, before the rescue party winged for the sky.

Above, the true Dravistite army finally became visible. Below, the last of the qwers croaked.
Last edited by Sinrus on Wed Jan 06, 2010 4:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Jan 03, 2010 10:58 pm

Seprenta had arrived early in the turn. Luckily, she had been serving her banishment as a mercenary in the nearby side of Blacksickle and had been able to come as soon as she received the thinkagram. When she arrived, the only thing she had to say was "Well well, Michael. Lord Arrekk may be a fool but his little side seems to be all grown up." She then commandeered a tent from a lancer and only emerged for a planning session, which she contributed to only by saying "Yes" three times. Despite this borderline hostile treatment, everyone was forced to put up with her. She was crucial to the evolving plan and had been put to good use while in exile, growing up to level 5.

Now, the plan was falling apart. "RAPHAEL!" Gabriel was screaming, "We are not going to lose two warlords in their first battle for our side!" As the green winged healomancer rushed over to tend to Zadkiel and Aaron, Michael was hurriedly planning with Esther and Uriel. "I don't think that they'll fall for another illusion," Michael said. "By the way, where is Seprenta?"

"When she went in the city with that foolamancy army, her real stack was croaked," Uriel answered. "She survived, so she could be anywhere, invisible."

"Alright. So that means we need a straightforward approach now, so- hey!" At that moment, the Ni'va archers opened fire upon the army above them.

"Shit!" Esther yelled, "Our veil is blown! Back to the original plan, I guess." She looked at Michael, who nodded his assent. "Alright then. Uriel, you and the archons start blasting the trunk, try to make a hole. Umm, archers will lay down cover fire. Warlords to provide bonuses, but all other twonicorns and riders take cover." She looked at Michael again. "Right?"

"Yeah." He seemed grim as he relayed the orders. The angelic archers opened fire upon the Omaticayans below, as the Charlescomm regiment and Uriel opened fire on the outer walls of Kelutrel. Draviston had the advantage of higher ground, but the Ni'va were forest capable, numerous, and deadly.

Akwey received the message from Chief Eytucan via Fparmil. He was to lead his fliers out of Kelutrel and croak the units that were trying to destroy the great Hometree. He would stop above the Pa'li and get Jayk'Suly and Tey'Tsu to help him lead the counter attack. Whatever happened, he was not to let the Chief's daughter come. Akwey was pleased with this assignment. The force that he had seen before was mighty, although it turned out to be mostly illusory. He hoped that it did not exaggerate the number of foes for him to croak.

"Oh damn," Raphael breathed out. A cloud of Ikran flooded from the base of Kelutrel and rose into the sky, screeching and chittering.

"Hey caster," Aaron said weakly, "could you pay attention here? I kinda got crushed by a qwer, and you're already done with Zadkiel."

"Shut up Aaron. You're less valuable than Zadkiel."

The cloud of Ikran condensed into a spear formation with Jayk'Suly at point on his dull red Toruk. The archers scattered as the javelin of enemies shot through their ranks and broke apart to seek out targets. Michael quickly reissued orders. "Archers, keep away from the Ikran and continue firing at the ground troops. Lancers, engage the enemy fliers. Uriel and archons, target the warlords. Raphael, hurry up and fix Aaron, then help the closest wounded units. Commanders are priority, then lancers, then twonicorns."

The twonicorn cavalry charged around the trunk of the massive tree. Michael and Esther joined up with Joseph, Gabriel, and Zadkiel just as they collided with enemy forces. Michael found himself thrust into a storm of snapping whip-like bodies and deadly points. He slashed indiscriminately at the writhing banshees, feeling the strength of the twonicorns at his back. A mouth full of needles rose into his field of vision and his twonicorn reared back. The frightened respons probably saved his life when the Ikran snapped its neck forward and bit at him.

Akwey laughed. The joy of battle was second only to the joy of the hunt. Hunting Yerik was not for him. He preferred to hunt feral Palulukan, or even the mighty Toruk. His prizes from the beasts decorated the high insides of Kelutrel. These winged horses were not good sport for him. The Palulukan, the Toruk, even the Ikran were faster than them. From atop his mount, they were easy prey, clumsy in the air, thrashing their horned heads against the storm of death around them. Truly, Anesidora was home to far more powerful animals than the outer world. Eywa made it so. The Ni'va themselves were perfect examples. They were twice as tall, and three times as strong, as these pathetic angels. He lusted to battle a greater foe, and only one target was open to him. The Chief Warlord. Maybe the arch in his name would mean something.

Akwey sneered as he jabbed at Michael. The Ikran was far more agile than his twonicorn, and allowed him to twist behind the Chief Warlord's back and strike where he was indefensible. There needed to be a better way to turn and face him. Michael stood in the saddle. Akwey seemed impressed by this. "Fi yilu ni-tixan titaron!" And he swept forward.

Michael ducked to the side and slashed out, clipping the Ikran on its shoulder. It screamed in pain, and wheeled around to face him. It screamed again in his face and Akwey jabbed again with his spear. Michael reeled to avoid it, and the Ni'va rushed him. Michael fell from the twonicorn and spread his chocolate brown wings. Akwey plummeted towards him and in the next second, their battle was over.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Mon Jan 04, 2010 9:44 pm


I want to try this out, if it works there'll be more. For now, enjoy the Dravistite emblem.

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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Jan 05, 2010 11:17 pm

Esther galloped between the two warlords. Akwey's face widened in a perfect picture of feline surprise as her twonicorn jabbed its horns into his Ikran's neck. He fell almost 100 feet before landing on the lowest branch of the tree. The Ni'va warlord sprang up almost immediately and called for another mount.

As Esther and Michael winged away, Seprenta magically appeared next to them on her own twonicorn. "So," she said smirking, obviously not upset to see her evicter's army destroyed. "I think we better quit while we're ahead. Or rather, before we get too far behind."

"Too far behind for what?" Esther snarled. "For you to escape?"

Seprenta clapped in mock happiness. "Who ever would have that a warlord could figure that out? Congratulations!"

Michael cut off the argument before the women could go at it again. "Regardless of motive, Seprenta's right. It's time to order a full retreat."


"I assume you watched the battle on the eyemancy table?"

Arrekk sighed. "Yes Michael, I did. Very bad." Since he had had time to reflect on the loss, Michael had entered a sort of depression. "Do we still have any qwers?"

"Aaron tells me that we have three. I haven't seen what condition they're in myself."

"What about the rest of the army?"

Michael's voice was quiet. "We lost more than half of our twonicorns and knights. And a third of our archers.

"What about damage to the enemies?"

"We croaked the majority of their Nantang with the ambush, but no significant casualties for any of the other ground units. Maybe ten percent of their Palulukan. A bit less than half the Ikran."

"Is there any good news?"

Michael seemed to have to search himself deeply to find any. "Well... Raphael is level 2 now, so is Aaron. I leveled to 4." He retreated into silence.

"Look Michael, it's not your fault. Things happen. We'll be fine."

"It is my fault. I was level 3 for most of the battle. I'm Chief Warlord. It was my first major battle. It was Draviston's first loss." He ended the call.


Gabriel and Zadkiel were on guard duty the night after the battle, 14 hexes from Kelutrel. They had had little time to be alone when with the massive bustle of an army on the move, so they had to take advantage of this time. The conversation had, inevitably, switched to the current situation. Gabriel was speaking. "I think I'll need to take command. Michael is chief warlord but he's been shut in his tent since we made camp and has been totally unresponsive. It might be my duty as highest level Dravistite warlord to lead the troops."

"I'm sure you would do fine, but you should probably wait and see if Michael decides to move next turn before you start issuing commands."


"What would you order, anyway?"

"I don't know." Gabriel sighed. "There doesn't seem to be any way out of this. Full retreat, I suppose, and we can leave the Ni'va in peace in their stupid forest. I don't want to though... duty, I guess. The only other thing I can think to do is attack that level 4 in the mountains, what's it called... Tire'em. The flying one. Why not, Omaticaya's best asset are its ground-based heavies."

"Gabe, we just got demolished by the Omaticaya fliers. And this other city has more than one of those Toruk things. And a lot more Ikran."

"I know Zad, but I'm sure I could come up with something..."


Thank god that they were two hexes too far for the Palulukan to reach. As it was, the army was spared a battle with the Omaticayan Ikran only by several of Uriel's electrical mines. Thank the titans. It probably would have meant the end of the war.As it was, the Ikran fanned out into the six surrounding hexes, along with some Pa'li cavalry. Angtsik would arrive next turn, cementing the enclosure. Nantang and Palulukan were left back in Kelutrel, along with a few Angtsik. It was still too much to think about assaulting.

At first glance, the surrounding strategy seems like a good idea. When it is delved into, one realizes that only five warlords had gone with the Omaticayan column. Less intense scrutiny shows that since there are six hexes around any given hex, this leaves one hex without a commander. A bit of critical thinking can tell anybody that that makes a stack significantly weaker, especially when it is far less numerous on account of overextension, and when it is attacked by six warlords and three casters.

In case you haven't caught on yet, this is not a hypothetical situation.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Jan 06, 2010 9:52 pm

Sandalphon was a Ni'va. He had no choice but to enjoy hunting. It was in his veins. Even now in the midst of war, on the enemy's turn, after they had broken out from the encirclement, he searched his forest hex for Yerik, in the hopes that he could bring down one of the deer-like units. He found a small her after a few hours of searching. As stealthily as it is possible for a 12 foot neon blue humanoid to be, he drew back his bow. An arrow shot forth and impaled a Yerik through the elongated neck. The rest fled the murder scene, but Sandalphon was not satisfied with a single croak. With a flick of his wrist, a tongue of stone sprung from the forest floor and grabbed a second Yerik by the leg. Another arrow finished his second unit of prey. Sandalphon kneeled over the croaked animals and thanked them and Eywa for their sacrifice. He skinned the creatures and their bodies disappeared. They would pop when his next rations were ready.

He continued to hunt. He killed a feral Nantang that he had found sleeping below ground. Near the end of the turn, he saw another small group of Yerik. A different herd from the one he had previously encountered, but that was not very suspicious. Feral units had no turn, and could move whenever they pleased. The seasoned hunter knelt and drew his bow again, holding another arrow and mentally preparing a spell. The arrow shot forth from the curved wood, and didn't effect the grazing Yerik.

To his credit, Sandalphon understood immediately. He whirled and launched his second arrow through a lancer's face, croaking him instantly. Another of the angelic knights sprung forwards, but the Ni'va used the spell he had prepared and bound one foot to the ground. The lancer tripped and Sandalphon put another arrow through him. Two unmounted twonicorns galloped at him from opposite directions. The hunter dove to the ground and fired another arrow at the passing steeds, which went wide.

Just then Sandalphon's stack, three dirt golems, emerged into the clearing. They engaged the twonicorns, and although they were weak Sandalphon's bonus gave them a fighting chance against the unled twonicorns. Two were destroyed before one of the celestial horses croaked, but Sandalphon shot the other in the flank, wounding it enough for the remaining golem to croak it.

A flash of blue behind him put the momentarily relaxed dirtamancer back on his guard. An archangel with shining blue wings had descended from above noiselessly. The enemy raised a finger and muttered "Taser." A blue beam of energy shot from his fingers and Sandalphon fell to his knees. The last dirt golem charged the caster, but was struck down by a blow from a mace. The shockmancer called for a twonicorn, and Sandalphon was slung on its back.


"You want me to cast turnamancy."

"And thinkamancy, yes."

"Why me!?!"

"You're a foolamancer. Thinkamancy is also eyemancy."

"What about the turnamancy? They're not even on the same axis!"

"Because you're our second highest level caster, and Uriel is too valuable to risk casting a spell like that."

"I'm not valuable, in your stupid mind?"

"Well you haven't exactly helped us."

"Arrekk banished me before you were even popped!"

"Your illusions weren't too useful in the last battle."

"They worked perfectly! It's you warlords who screwed up the combat."

"Look Seprenta, it's an order."

"You're not even Chief Warlord, Gabriel! We're both commanders, you can't order me around!"

"I am acting Chief Warlord until Michael recovers."

"'Acting Chief Warlord?' That doesn't carry any power. I'm not obligated to obey you."

"Seprenta, just do it. You might even level. It will probably take more than one spell to turn him."

"Oh yes, that's convincing. 'Come on Seprenta, do something you hate! You'll have to do it more than once, so that's better!' I'm not doing it Gabriel."

"Look, I'm a warlord and, as you're so fond of reminding me, I only know how to swing a sword. But I am very good at it. Get the drift?"


The reinforcements arrived just before Draviston ended turn. 100 twonicorns and lancers, and 45 archons. Gabriel met the leading archon at the head of the army, gaping in surprise. "Where did these troops come from?"

"The archons came from Charlescomm, obviously," said the archon. "The twonicorn cavalry is from Ignivultus."

"What?" Gabriel was shocked. "Why did we get these? If we had them at the last battle we would have won! We didn't take them because they were defending the city in case of a Falamanan surprise attack!"

"Don't worry about it, there are over 200 archons guarding the city now. Apparently Lord Arrekk really wants these cities."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Jan 07, 2010 6:14 pm

Michael hadn't been doing much thinking. He had mostly just sat in his tent unresponsively, sleeping when he wanted to and eating when food popped. The first time he had left the tent since his thinkagram with Arrekk, besides to move, was when they were attacked.

A swarm of Ikran rose out of the trees as they entered Draviston's hex. The single red Toruk emitted a piercing screech while below in the camp lancers and commanders hastened to find and mount their twonicorns. Archers riding the Ikran felled a few of the horned pegasi as they took off, but cover fire from the archons and archers opened a necessary window for the air force to begin flying.

Jayk'Suly gaped in surprise. The army that hovered before him was nearly three times the size it had been at the end of the battle of Kelutrel. He had only the remaining Ikran from the Hometree and the small detachment that had been garrisoned in Utraya Mokri. Tire'em was the only city capable of popping Ikran and Toruks, but with only an average of 41 move, most of the smaller fliers wouldn't be able to move the full 47 hexes from the levitating city to the battle. Akwey and Tey'Tsu flanked Jayk and asked for orders.

"I don't know where these enemies came from. There is a very small chance that we could destroy our enemies."

"Aye," Tey'Tsu nodded. "We must work on leveling Ting'Nari. A level 2 lookamancer doesn't seem to be very reliable."

"Our primary objective is impossible, of course," Akwey said. "But I do not believe that the hunt is over. We may still be able to rescue the dirtamancer. Ting'Nari has at least told us where he is being kept."

"Is he guarded?" Tey'Tsu asked.

"Only by the foolamancer, who is trying to turn him, and two archons."

"It sounds like a plan," Jayk said. "Akwey, lead a stack of our highest level Ikran to rescue Sandalphon. Tey'Tsu, you and I will screen for him."

The Ikran entered a spear formation and rushed the flock of horses. Nobody noticed a single stack slip away. The twonicorns entered a midair gallop, their wings pumping furiously. With spears and heads lowered, the lancers collided with their enemies.

Seprenta scowled. Casting turnamancy was difficult, far harder than the thinkamancy would be. She was actually starting to look forward to that part, although she would never admit it. She was choosing another scroll from her pack when one of the guard archons shouted a warning. Seprenta whirled just in time to see the head of an Ikran snatch her from the entrance to the tent.

Seprenta dropped the turnamancy scroll and instead grabbed a weirdomancy spell at random. She pointed it towards the door and let rip just as an Ikran stalked in on its wingtips. The monster pulsed with gray energy, then its body turned inside out. Pulsing organs and muscles crisscrossed with veins in a general Ikran-like shape stumbled into the tent until Seprenta hit the abomination with Sandalphon's bow. One of its organs popped and the creature shuddered. Another strike burst a second pulpy mass. It quivered and croaked.

Seprenta grabbed another scroll, this time for hat magic, and with it she levitated the disgusting corpse and threw it from the tent into the approaching form of another Ikran. The monster hissed but didn't seem hurt, at least until the second archon cast paradigm and sliced it to shreds.

A loud rip filled the air as Akwey's Ikran tore the ceiling from the tent. The Ni'va grinned and said something in his native tounge, "Oe tspiyang mengati!" He pointed a spear at Seprenta and shouted, "Taron!" And then he was tackled.

When the Toruk had first screamed its war cry, Michael burst from his self-imposed prison. From on the ground, he was the only one who saw Akwey's stack descend, and he ran to find the qwers. By the time he had joined their stack, the first archon had just seen the incoming Omaticayans.

The only three qwers who had survived the battle for Kelutrel had done so because they were strong enough to survive until their commanders broke stack and they could run. So, these were all fairly high level. Michael rode a purple at full speed and soared over Seprenta's tent, crashing his mount into Akwey's. The Ikran croaked from a bite in the throat, but the Ni'va's spear penetrated the bouncing monster's side. This weakened it sufficiently for another Ikran to tear it apart. Michael found himself sitting on his foe's chest and quickly decapitated him.

The last two qwers, a blue and a brown, with Seprenta and the archon's help, finished off the Ikran. In the skies, the few surviving Omaticayan fliers turned and fled.

When Gabriel descended to meet him, Michael had some questions. "Who's this Ni'va? Where did these troops come from?"

Gabriel just smiled. "You missed a lot."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Mon Jan 11, 2010 10:35 pm

What do you do when the world is crashing down? Jayk'Suly was determined to find out. Who else among the Omaticayans could? Akwey, their greatest hunter, was croaked at the hands of the invaders' Chief Warlord. But Jayk'Suly was Lord of the Skies above the forest Anesidora. After all, it was he who had convinced Eyway to send the Ni'va people the animals as units. It was he who tamed the first Toruk. And when the heavens crash into the mortal plane, the first place they hit is the sky.

It was obvious to both sides that Draviston really only had one option. They had already failed to Kelutrel, and although Utraya Mokri contained a pitifully small garrison, the ground forces that would be sent to reclaim it would be more than sufficient to drive the light fliers out. That left Tire'em. It was perfect for Draviston's defense. The Angtsik and Palulukan could not reach, and it was tho only Omaticayan city that could produce fliers. If the city could be taken, then the invaders would be completely safe from counter-attack.

That was why Jayk'Suly, Tsu'Tey, Teyniri, and seven other warlords were taking the rest of the Ikran to the flying city. They only just had the move to reach. They were greeted by Tal'Ampi, the regent of Tire'em. She gave a quick rundown of the situation, having prepared a report after receiving a thinkagram from Fparmil. After the air battle earlier in that turn, the Omaticayan air force had been reduced to 492 Ikran and 116 Toruks, over 80% of them Tire'em's garrison. They also had 31 soft wood golems from a long ago visit by At'Mo.

On the next day, Draviston's turn began. Over the horizons came a flock of twonicorns.


Emperor Reptar himself lead the charge. He smiled with bloodlust from atop the head of his Giganthope, a 30 foot poison-green serpent with fangs as long as broadswords. It was nonpoisonous, but who cares? A single bite was enough to end the lives of almost any foe. Behind him, three other Giganthopes carried his highest level warlords including Lachesis, his Chief. They each led stacks of cavalry mounted on Pitters, poisonous tan and brown vipers. Above flew another two warlords leading silver serpents with wings: the Yucatans.

This was more or less a capital fight. The Empire of the Poison Desert, more commonly referred to as the Poisonous Empire, had only lost two cities to Blacksickle. Unfortunately, the capital, Zradca, was very close to the border. So Emperor Reptar led a column composed of a huge number of troops from all the remaining cities of the empire. Blacksickle knew this. What they didn't know was that not all those troops were at this battle. While still a large force, Zradca's garrison was stuffed nearly to the brim with troops. It was still popping Titanoboas at the rate of one every three turns.

Reptar and Crotalus wheeled their Giganthopes off to the left, while Lachesis and Boa went right. Their plan was to try and flank the uncroaked forces with their cavalry while pulling them apart with their excellent infantry. The Poisonous Empire popped some of the strongest units in Erfworld. The downside was that they popped incredibly slowly. For a level 5 city, it would take a turn to pop six infantry units, or three Yucatans, or five Pitters, or a single Giganthope.

The cavalry stacks all impacted simultaneously, a model of perfect battlefield planning. Skeletal infantry flew pell-mell as the massive serpents slammed into them. An uncroaked giant lumbered at Reptar, swinging a sword the size of a person. The emperor struck his Giganthope with his scimitar hilt and it sprung at the giant. Bones crunched as the monster fell apart.

By now, an organized response had been decided upon. Fourteen uncroaked dwagons, dwacoliches they were called, took off from the center of the horde and rose to engage the Yucatans. The cavalry was to be dealt with by the Blacksickle Reavers. They were some of the few living troops in the horrible side, six foot five at a minimum, and bulked with pure muscle and steel. They had tatooed the black and red symbol of Blacksickle on their foreheads.

With a scream of battlefury, these black knights advanced on the Pitters and Giganthopes. The scream was carried on as an unearthly howl by the thousands upon thousands of skeletons in the battle. Above, the dwacoliches roared in fury. The greatest army of abominations since the decrypted was in battle again.

They would not lose. Not until the world was dead.
Last edited by Sinrus on Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Jan 13, 2010 12:01 am

Tire'em hugged the top of a floating mountain, surrounded by three of the other flying rocky hills. It was unevenly shaped to keep from falling off its perch, without a wall and with a tower like a needle. Over 150 twonicorns and their riders flew in five arrow formations organized into a larger arrow, with 300 archers following behind. 50 archons floated in the center of the spearhead of units.

Riding at the very tip of the formation was Michael. He had Zadkiel and Esther to his left, Gabriel and Aaron to his right. With the recent victory over the flying group and his personal croaking of Akwey, Michael had regained his confidence and fully expected to level in the coming battle. Almost everything Draviston had was at the battle, only the garrison troops of their four cities weren't in Anesidora. The three qwers were veiled below the flying city, guarding Seprenta and Sandalphon.

150 Ikran and 50 Toruks flew in Tire'em's airspace. Michael was surprised; he had expected more resistance. With a gesture of his sword, the angelic Chief Warlord sounded a charge.

When the Omaticayan fliers wheeled to face him, Michael saw only two warlords. Too easy. Way. Too. Easy. Oh, shit.

350 Ikran and 70 Toruks flooded out of caves in the surrounding Hallelujah Mountains. About fifty of the smaller units struck deep into the ranks of the archers, croaking angels left and right. The rest split into two groups and hit the twonicorns' flanks; Esther's and Aaron's stacks. Two low level warlords. They would be massacred. Michael ordered Gabriel and Zadkiel to merge their stacks with the beleaguered new commanders, and he turned to assist the archers. Screeches from behind reminded him of the garrison troops.

Before he could do anything Uriel shouted to him, "Don't worry about it Michael! We got them." He turned and faced the archons. "You ready girls?" A chorus of affirmatives rang out and all fifty-one of the units in the stack turned sideways and pointed finger guns at the charging units. "Kracka-boom," Uriel said to himself, and smiled.

The Ikran shrieked from intense pain and every last one plummeted towards the ground, croaked as rocks. Some of the lower level Toruks screamed and croaked as well as the net of electricity passed through them. Among the casualties was Tal'Ampi. The archons gave a repeat of their previous performance, a twisted, interlocked series of fifty-one separate Shockmancy spells. "Scatter!" he yelled to the surviving Toruks.

When the Toruks all broke stack, the archons did too. The individual women rocketed after their chosen prey, any of the fleeing red monsters. Two of them and Uriel chased after Jayk'Suly, hoping to croak the Chief Warlord and effectively end this battle. The Ni'va twisted and spun through the sky, tailed spin for spin by his three foes. He pulled an unexpected U-turn and managed to impale one of the archons through the chest with his spear.

Between the eyes. Through the neck. Two in the chest. Stomach. Headshot. Teyniri kept careful track to herself of how where each shot struck her enemies. A familiar face flashed in the crowd of silver uniforms and wings. That warlord. The insane one, from the battle for Kelutrel. The male with red hair.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Jan 14, 2010 7:17 pm

The Omaticayans really did not want to give up Tire'em. The Ikran had fallen back to the tunnels in the mountains, the Toruks waiting in the courtyard. Whenever the twonicorns tried to make for the city, swarms of Ikran emerged from the flying mountains like bees from a hive, only to flee as soon as they inflicted a few casualties. They had tried posting archons at the ready to open fire as soon as the monsters poked their heads out, but the Ikran simply flooded from a different cave.

Eventually, Michael came up with a new plan. The twonicorns would not be able to fight effectively while in tunnels, so a lancer with leadership would stay behind and keep them from running into battle. Meanwhile, the remaining knight-class commanders and warlords would split up, each with a combined stack of archons and lancers. They were to hunt through the three Hallelujah Mountains in this hex and croak or drive out any Omaticayan forces they could find.


The Empire of the Poison Desert had lost the battle, of course. He had expected to. Everybody important got away. The only unfortunate aspect was that Blacksickle's army swelled up with another 4000 infantry, and a few hundred Pitters and Yucatans. Whatever. There were more where they came from. All the warlords escaped, and surprisingly the knights had as well.

Everything would rest on this upcoming battle. Zradca was a level 5, with a bigger garrison than three others combined. It was necessary to house his Titanoboas and Giganthopes. It was stuffed to the brim now, containing Emperor Reptar himself, 15760 infantry, 1391 Pitters, 812 Yucatans, 230 Giganthopes, 31 Titanoboas, 17 warlords, a Mathamancer, a Luckamancer, and a Weirdomancer, and 8751 lizardman natural allies were in a nearby fort. The capital used to contain a mercenary Turnamancer, but he had fled back to the Magic Kingdom when Blacksickle invaded.

It was the Luckamancer who Reptar was conversing with. His name was Viper de Tries, a small, pale man who was as proficient an assassin as he was a calculator. His lips were stained permanently purple from a magical juice he drank to improve his Mathamancy. It was called Sapho or something, Reptar didn't really care. All he cared about was that it worked.

Viper was analyzing reports of the battle from the five warlords who had been there. The Sapho Juice gave him enhanced memory skills, so that he wouldn't forget any details of his calculations. Finally, he stood up and said, "Emperor, I am prepared to run the numbers." After this proclamation, he took another sip of Sapho, closed his eyes, and said "Mentat."

Viper's eyes rolled under closed lids, and they flickered like broken light bulbs. When the spell was completed after only a second, Viper's eyes opened. He took a draught of the purple juice announced, "There is a 78.32% chance that we will keep the city if they attack directly, and a 41.79% chance if they circle around and attack the lizardmen."

Reptar scowled. "What are the chances that they will do that?"

"Mentat." Once a second spell was complete, Viper had decided. "Given that they have no Lookamancer and the Foolamancer has returned to her own side, my limited Foolamancy should give an 82.4% chance of the fort being unnoticed if the Luckamancer assists me."

"We're going to need all of her juice for the main battle. What are the chances if you don't receive extra Luckamancy?"


Reptar stroked his chin. "Alright, de Tries. Alright. I'll take those odds."


This was certainly tedious. With all the twists and turns, it was impossible to make a mental map of the inside. Esther was sure that she had gone through this same chamber at least twice. About an hour later, they went through it again. Then again, then again. They had taken different routes every time, so how did they always end up back here?

The cave was skinny but tall, the top shrouded in darkness. Maybe there was another tunnel higher up? None of the ones her stack had gone yet through seemed to contain any Ikran. As they ascended, the archons' glow lit the way. When they finally reached the top, there was no other way out. The stack turned to go back down, but a sudden volley of arrows was launched from a tiny crevice in the corner, so well hidden that they would never have noticed it.

Three arrows struck a lancer, croaking him. With a mental command, Esther told the two present archons to open fire, and explosions echoed around the cavern. Esther and her three lancers charged, croaking the archers, their Ikran, and the warlord leading them. There was no chance to celebrate.

Awakened by the archons' spells, nearly a hundred shrieking, angry, feral Ikran flooded out into the cavern. Racing with the horde at their backs, Esther and her knights tore away in a random direction and emerged into the open. The twonicorns were bucking and rearing, fighting hoof and horn against a dense cloud of wild fliers.

Omaticaya had sprung its trap well.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Jan 17, 2010 10:41 pm

Their lancer commander had been croaked, so the twonicorns were forced to auto-attack. These unled cavalry units were no match for the swarm of banshees around them, and even with Esther's bonus they wouldn't be. There were far more Ikran and Toruks than had chased her stack, and there was no sign of the other warlords, casters, or archon commanders.

Esther gave the order to her archons to contact all the other stacks still searching and tell them to get out in the open. Then she summoned her stack, and they plummeted into combat. Esther dispatched an Ikran, but almost immediately a lancer was torn to shreds by a massive Toruk. They continued through the maelstrom of snake-like bodies, the archons taking a casualty. Then they reached the eye of the storm, a small circle of protection offered by the twonicorns.

"Everybody mount up!" Esther shouted. "That includes you, archons! Move it! We're going for the city!"

The twonicorn herd broke through the mass of enemies just long enough for Esther to survey her troops: 63 wounded twonicorns, two lancers, and an archon. It might just be enough. She could see in the courtyard 43 Toruks and Jayk'Suly. Far too much to take on in her units' current state. Her plan didn't call for an action like that.

Almost immediately, they were enveloped again by the crazed wildlife. The small force managed to stay ahead of their pursuers, though, and barreled toward the city at top speed. Below, the Toruks roused themselves and stood, preparing to push off into the sky and engage the invaders. What they didn't expect was that the twonicorns were just passing by.

Thanks to the archon's Thinkamancy, Tire'em's air defenses were disrupted and stalled for the few seconds necessary to get the Dravistite cavalry in the clear. They went off just as the swarm of feral units flew by. Startled by this new threat, the monsters swooped down at the first available target: the Omaticayan Toruks.

During the chaotic battle that ensued, more search parties joined Esther's. All warlords and casters were present and accounted for except Aaron. Several stacks lead by knights had been croaked by the awakened ferals. When Jayk'Suly's units appeared, victorious, Michael gave Esther the honor of leading the charge.

When he saw the incoming twonicorns, Jayk fled. A burst of Shockmancy from Uriel and the archons croaked his entire stack, but they shielded the Chief Warlord with their bodies and the Ni'va managed to escape again. Meanwhile, Esther landed in the courtyard and was attacked by a stack of soft wood golems. The golems were made by a Florist, with oval bodies, roughly chiseled faces like Easter Island heads, and arms that were thicker on the ends than at the shoulders. They were strung with vines and pink and red flowers, giving them an overall very odd look.

Once they were dispatched, the tower was cleansed of a few remaining infantry and the city was theirs.


"He can't have left the hex." Michael pondered this new development.

"Yes sir," the lancer responded.

"So why can't we find him?"

"I don't know sir."

"And Seprenta says that there are no veiled units in the hex?"

"From what I hear, sir. I try to stay away from the Foolamancer."

"Mmm. Well, it's too late now. The turn is over. Send a message to Gabriel. Tell her to configure the archers around the edges of the hex and keep them there overnight. Tell her to make sure they're flying, so they don't get attacked by Nantang."

"Will do, sir."


With this the lancer scurried off to do his bidding, and Michael was left alone with his thoughts. For the first time since the battle for Kelutrel, he thought that they had a chance.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Jan 19, 2010 5:44 am

A single Toruk was reported as having been shot down at the hex boundary, but there was no sign of the fugitive Chief Warlord.

Omaticaya took its turn cautiously, seeming to mourn for its lost city. From the top of Tire'em's tower it was just possible to make out the distant level 1 of Utraya Mokri. That night, the entire city and the surrounding hexes pulsed with luminescence in an enchanting ceremony. The invaders had no idea what it was for, but the very sight of it broke them into tears or drove them into a rage at the thought that they were out to destroy this amazing and beautiful jungle.

In the morning, the feeling had passed.

Draviston had again reached a strategical dead end. Omaticaya didn't have an air force and couldn't build one with out Tire'em. Draviston didn't have a sufficient ground force to defeat the myriad species that the Ni'va mounted themselves upon. Palulukan, Angtsik... these were far more numerous than twonicorns, and one one far more powerful.

It took a conversation with his Overlord for Michael to develop his strategy.

"Congratulations, Michael, on the taking of Draviston's fifth city," Arrekk had said. "But we mustn't forget the reason why we came to the forest of Anesidora in the first place."


"Exactly. Can we mine the Hallelujah mountains?"

"Well," Michael answered him, we can mine the mountain the Tire'em sits upon, at least, and maybe the others in this hex. The others likely have just as rich a deposit but they are infested with wild Ikran."

"How long will it take to clear them out?"

"If we go strategically, and pop nothing but stabbers and upgrade them all like we've been doing, it should take about six or seven turns. Probably more. The downside is that a popping strategy like that wouldn't help us capture Utraya Mokri and Kelutrel, since lancers are severely disadvantaged without a mount."

"Mmm." Arrekk pondered this for a moment. Finally he said, "Michael, do the Ni'va mine the Unobtanium?"

The Chief Warlord was surprised by this question. "Uh, no, sir, they do not. Our captive has told us that much."

"Then how do they pay the upkeep for such an enormous legion of heavies?"

"They hunt Yerik, Lord, and the Pa'li and Angtsik graze. All hunting parties were retracted when we attacked them, but they were sent back out last turn. I imagine that abstinence from the hunt has cut deep into their treasury."

"Michael," Arrekk said, smiling, "You have a far greater talent for command than I do. That is why I relish the opportunities I have to educate you. I spent most of my life out in the open, in a post-apocawyptic world that you never knew. What I learned from that is the founding principle of economic warfare: if your enemy can't pay upkeep, then he can't fight you."

"Lord, I don't- wait, now I get it! We can mount archers on twonicorns, veil them, and send them to ambush the hunting parties! The Omaticayans can't hunt, they can't pay upkeep. They can't pay upkeep, they are forced to disband their Angtsik and Palulukan! It's brilliant!"

"And it will give Seprenta something to do other than brood over that dirtamancer and contemplate how much she hates us. Good luck, Michael."


A full herd! What luck that a full herd should wander into their hex. Thank Eywa. Omaticaya's coffers were suffering far worse than anyone suspected. Only the warlords and the hunters like her knew the truth.

With a gesture of her hand, the stack of hunters circled around the herd of Yerik. A successful hunt here could provide upkeep for a dozen Palulukan for another turn. When the time was right she dropped hand, and eight arrows streaked out, each toward a different target. When the arrows were released, a sort of sixth sense kicked into effect for the Yerik. They would always raise their heads and stare directly at their hunter, right into the moment that they croaked.

That part was the same this time. Each of the eight stared in a different direction for a split second, and then things deviated from the norm.

From one Yerik, a pair of huge celestial wings sprouted. The arrows halted in the air and dropped to the ground, all momentum gone. Then the change took place over the rest of the herd. Instead of the six-legged deer-like Yerik that frequented Anesidora, now a circle of sparkling silver twonicorns glared out at their foes. Each was mounted by a knight, resplendent in silver armor, golden lances held to the sky, white wings outstretched from the backs of both man and beast. It was a magnificent sight.

It was her last sight.


The hunters sat together, talking about nothing. it wasn't their turn, and they had never had any luck with wandering prey. They would have less luck today.

There was no foolery, no ceremony. A squadron of twonicorns dropped out of the sky, and their riders let fly with golden arrows. Ten seconds later, they were out of the hex, continuing their mission.

It was a scene repeated across Anesidora. It was infinitely different each time, but the effect was identical: another croaked stack of Ni'va.

The hunters had become the hunted, and they had no idea until they croaked.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Tue Jan 19, 2010 8:53 pm

The attackers had vanished into the jungle with the skill of a great hunter. But the Ni'va were masters of Anesidora, and they would find the invaders. Chief Eytucan had ordered it.

Estimates were that fifteen stacks had set out on the previous turn. Ting'Nari located eight of them, and guessed from the interference that the rest were veiled. She had leveled while doing this, so the Chief was confident that this was accurate. Unfortunately, the fall of Tire'em meant that Omaticaya was devoid of fliers and in no position to obtain more. This made croaking a stack of fliers significantly harder.

The final decision was that more hunting parties would be sent out of Kelutrel, but this time each would be accompanied by either an Angtsik or two Palulukan. Eytucan fervently hoped that this would be enough.


After a turn of maneuvering by both sides, Blacksickle launched its assault upon Zradca. Viper de Tries had done his work well, and the lizardmen had been undetected while they sneaked into the tunnels below the capital. With nearly 30,000 troops reinforcing the city, Emperor Reptar suspected that he was in command of the largest army ever on erfworld.

Viper de Tries was with him as he watched the siege begin from the tower. While the Mathamancer nervously sipped his Sapho Juice, Reptar paced around the circumference of the office, staring out the panoramic windows and mentally issuing orders to his warlords.

The siege towers made their first collision with the mammoth gate. "NOW!" The emperor screamed.

The timing was impeccable. Just as the next swing of the enormous ram was about to hit the gates, the swung smoothly open. Not being made to extend fully, the towers tilted just a few degrees. Not enough to make them fall, but enough for the next step of the plan to enact itself.

The weakest Titanoboa had popped last turn. At level 1, it had a base combat of 22. With Crotalus's level 11 leadership, it had 33. When Lachesis, a level 14, and Reptar, a level 8, were in the hex its combat swelled to 44. Finally, the stack bonus gave the fifty-foot snake 52 combat. The average Titanoboa in the city had a combat of 60. The poor suckers didn't have a chance.

All 32 of these juggernauts shot through the gate, which were designed so that a tactic like this would be possible. The eighty-three siege engines splintered in seconds. Blacksickle had assembled its hordes of infantry right behind the siege to flood through as soon as the gate came down. The idiots had no idea what was waiting for them.

Bones flew as the monsters carved a path through their opponents. The infantry couldn't even penetrate the 6 inches of protective scales on the Titanoboa's backs.

Reptar remembered a quote from the unmaker, Lord Hamster. "You plan. But the enemy won't follow your plan." Never before did the emperor see this in action than right now. He had expected the dwacoliches to counter-attack and had the Weirdomancer on a Titanoboa all set to mess with their stats. Instead, the sky turned dark.

Lightning flashed. An abominable howl filled the air as the dwacoliches, all 47 of them, emerged from the clouds above the tower. They circled down and made a spiral around the tower, their dead, glowing, red eyes watching Reptar through the wrap-around window in his office at the top of the tower. "De Tries..." he whimpered, his extraordinarily powerful personality cowed by the awesome display of unholy power encircling him. "De Tries!" He was screaming now, backing towards the exit.

Then the very top of the tower was torn off, and Reptar faced the commanding officer of his enemies: Gravelyn, daughter of Sepulchre, Emperor of the Shadowscythe. She was beautiful in a terrifying, mystical way, like a succubus. She wore spiked red armor and wielded a shining red sword adorned with a skull at the crossguard.

Reptar fell to the ground on his hands and knees. The dwacolich opened its mouth, a maelstrom of darkness swirling within.

Gravelyn smiled, and said to the cowering emperor in a voice like ice, "My father sends his greetings, Emperor. I believe that you will be very close to him, very soon."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Jan 21, 2010 10:45 pm

Croaking the emperor would lower the combat of all troops in the city by 4. Not a ton, but enough to significantly lower the chances of victory. Besides this, Reptar didn't have an heir. Lachesis needed to rescue him, and fast. He rallied the 100 nearby Yucatans and took to the sky taking along another two warlords Davidrellis and Lex. These two were levels 6 and 7, and specialized in airborne snakes.

Davidrellis and Lex flew their cloud of silver Yucatans into the dwacoliches faces, the riders slicing mercilessly at their uncroaked counterparts. Lachesis himself led a stack of eight of the highest level Yucatans on the side to engage Gravelyn.

Since she was one of the few living members of the side, the Yucatans could spit their acidic venom at her, which was powerful enough to burn through metal and enter a person's body. Under the cover of this fire, Lachesis swooped for a coup de grace on the distracted Heir. His scimitar was dipped in poison strong enough to kill her with a scratch.

The Yucatan did a barrel roll past Gravelyn and Lachesis swiped blindly at her, only to find himself falling, his Yucatan croaked. He landed hard on the dwacolich's back and scrambled to his feet just as the Blacksickle Princess lunged at him with her Doomblade. The two battled back and forth on the uncroaked dwagon's back, Gravelyn steadily gaining an advantage. Finally, Lachesis was pushed to the end of the monstrosity's tail, another one waiting below with outstretched jaws.

Viper de Tries jumped at Gravelyn from behind, a dagger poised in his hand. The Blacksickle Princess was too occupied with Lachesis to notice, at least until a hissing and dead voice seemed to emanate from her Doomblade. Behind you! An assassin!

Gravelyn bent forwards and tossed Viper over her shoulder into Lachesis. The powerful Warlord was able to hold up the scrawny Mathamancer, and they faced their enemy together. De Tries closed his eyes. "Mentat."

He snapped them open again and leaned backwards, pushing him and Lachesis over the edge.

The dwacolich saw not two men falling into its jaws, but rather a rain of arrows. Ignoring its orders, the thing turned and fled, allowing the two veiled men to land on the Yucatan below. At a command from Viper, Lachesis ordered all 23 remaining Yucatans out of the air. The instant that they fell below the outer walls, the Mathamancer chanted words of power and Zradca's air defenses lit up, spraying bolts of light at the dwacoliches.

Bones shattered, but only sixteen of the dwacoliches croaked. By now, Emperor Reptar had escaped and made it to the bottom of the tower. The Titanoboas were still raging outside the city, but two of their number had fallen. He quickly ordered Lachesis to go with him and take the Giganthopes to reinforce them against the now erfbound dwacoliches, while Davidrellis and Lex took the full force of Yucatans into the air to combat the uncroaked Yucatans from the previous battle.

In the tunnels, uncroaked Blacksickle infantry was completely unprepared for what was about to hit them. The Blacksickle Reavers led the attack and expected an easy victory. Instead, they encountered nearly 9,000 lizard men and 1,400 Pitters, which had a tunnel bonus. They were led by Boa, a level 9 warlord. The invaders were very nearly wiped out.

Gravelyn had no choice but to pull the plug. The Titanoboas were nearly unstoppable, the assassination attempt against Emperor Reptar had failed, and her tunnel troops were routing. This siege was over.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sat Jan 23, 2010 3:57 pm

Fifteen turns later. Michael had always underestimated his Overlord. Of course he knew that Arrekk had once been a warlord, he kept it no secret that he had never commanded more than three units. But now that the 'economic warfare' plan was working nearly perfectly, Michael had resolved never to doubt his ruler again.

It was estimated that half of Omaticaya's angtsik and palulukan had been disbanded. Still, too many remained for a direct attack on Kelutrel. But with the reinforcements of nearly eighty qwers that had arrived this turn, it was certainly enough for the next step of the revised attack plan.

As a level 1, Utraya Mokri was hardly worth defending. It's main garrison unit was the wood golem, an even mix of hard and soft. Four gumps, the stronger kind, made with Flower Power, were the biggest threat. Besides this, there was a scattering of ni'va infantry and pa'li cavalry, plus a few Nantang.

Located in a natural depression, the city had no tower. It consisted entirely of a circular courtyard and a small tunnel network below that seemed to pass as a dungeon. A large, but abnormally so, tree was smack dab in the center of the city. It seemed to be related to a willow, but with fluorescent pink leaves. The tree's roots were abnormally large; they radiated in concentric circles around the courtyard. When they reached the boundaries of the city, they stacked on top of one another to form a ten-foot outer wall.

The archers that had been so successful in the previous operation formed the first stage of the attack. An opening salvo from their bows croaked a good quantity of the defenders; The pa'li, nantang, and soft wood golems fled into the tunnels to hide from the golden arrows. The heavies left out in the courtyard, gumps and hard wood golems, were nearly uncroakable by means of archery. Ni'va infantry hunkered down behind the spiral roots and took potshots with their own bows.

Exposed as long as they stayed in the air, the Dravistite archers were forced to fall back behind the wall. The next wave came forth: Uriel and the archons. They flew three runs over the city, laying down blankets of electricity over the defenders.

When all the infantry were croaked, lancers and their twonicorns sprang over the root wall. A few were croaked by the gumps, but most heavies had already been dispatched by Charlescomm. Finally, the knights switched mounts and rode the newly arrived qwers into the tunnels. Sounds of combat issued forth for a few minutes, and then the barking, clanging, and roaring ceased. The city was theirs.


Jayk'Suly missed the feel of power that riding a Toruk gave him. After escaping from Tire'em, he, Teyniri, and Tey'Tsu had returned to Kelutrel to wait for Draviston's next move. He had been helpless as the honorless guerrilla tactics depleted his side's treasury and army. He would make it end, this engagement would be the last.

Behind him were 600 pa'li, each with a rider. 400 nantang, 350 palulukan, 100 angtsik, and seven warlords. Fully half of Omaticaya's remaining strength. When they had destroyed the forces in Utraya Mokri, some mercenaries would be hired to take back the undefended Tire'em. Then things would remain normal, until the next infidels attacked them.

Before they reached the city, Teyniri would have to return to command the palulukan. But for now, she was with him. They were both silent, she sitting in front of him on the pa'li. Jayk lifted his head off her shoulder and kissed her gently, a prayer to Eywa on his lips and in his mind. He would not let her croak. He had come too close too many times in this war, her screaming and crying had told him how hard that must be for a lover. He would not be able to bear it if both his loves were destroyed: Anesidora and Teyniri.

The way the angels had waged war thus far made him fear exactly that.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Jan 24, 2010 3:20 pm

Naturally, it was the angtsik who went first. What other unit in Anesidora could smash a wall with their heads? It pained every ni'va in the army to hurt the Tree of Souls by destroying its roots, but there was no other way to rid its sacred grove of the defilers.

The angtsik also made excellent meat shields. They soaked up damage like sponges, their enormous defense stat lowering the damage of every attack by a huge margin. The storm of magic and fire that engulfed them at the chokepoint they had formed hurt them, yes, but croaked only a few.

Twonicorn cavalry galloped into the flanks, their triple damage from momentum croaking the rest of the stack. But more were pouring through additional holes, and the knights fell back to the tree. Several palulukan climbed the wall and pounced into Utraya Mokri, their five inch claws flexing in anticipation of a fight.

Now, with angtsik and pa'li entering through fourteen different breaches in the outer walls and palulukan climbing over everywhere else, the defenders retreated back to the dungeon. Trying to cut them off, the horse-like pa'li charged at the tree, but even the archons made it through the holes beneath the Tree of Souls.

Nantang were rarely given a commander, as they were generally more effective when they ran amok, biting at any enemy unit they could get near. In this case, that worked against them. Packs of the disturbing little monsters streamed into the tunnels and leaped right into the mouths of the waiting qwers. Michael felt himself level as his units devoured hundreds of the things.

The tunnels in Utraya Mokri opened up into the spaces between the roots. Being wedged between the ground and the tree, the openings were very small; the twonicorns had to duck to get in without bumping their heads, and if spatial dimensions applied in Erfworld, the qwers would never have fit. As it was, the nantang had fallen into the trap so effectively because the qwers' mouths filled the entire tunnel entrance.

Having no tunnel capable heavies, only Omaticaya's light units could enter. A few waves of pa'li tried to flush out the Dravistites, but they hardly made a dent. The warlords weren't stupid. They didn't send in more suicide waves, and there was nothing else to do. The turn ended. Draviston controlled the dungeon; the city still belonged to them.


Another fallen city. No big deal. The EPD's treasury contained enough schmuckers to pay upkeep for the current garrison of Zradca for 1,000 turns. Blacksickle simply didn't have enough troops to take Zradca, and they weren't getting more soon.

Viper de Tries had confirmed it for him: pulling out of the battle had lowered Blacksickle's chances of capturing the capital to under twenty percent. Even if Sepulchre, Valoth, and Medeia joined the column, they would be back to the original situation.

Still, there was no hope in leaving the city and engaging Blacksickle. The only reason that they could possibly win a battle was the massive bonuses to Zradca's garrison.

Blacksickle could conceivably sit outside the walls of the capital for 1,000 turns and wait for everyone within to disband. At least he had that long; Blacksickle couldn't pop any units.


"We did it, Abraham! We kept the city!"

"We certainly did, Lord. I told you we would."

Arrekk scoffed. "You told me we would lose the courtyard to an overwhelmingly powerful force."

"That is exactly what happened!" Abraham grinned. "I never said we would lose the dungeon."

The two left the situation room and walked through the tower of Animus. Arrekk's archon bodyguards started to follow him, but they were waved off. The openings in the walls were designed for ballistae and catapults, and were being used for that. However, they were also very convenient for when anybody wanted to get into the air.

The stabber crew working this ballista saluted as their Overlord and the Predictamancer threw themselves off the balcony. They circled the city for a minute before stopping on one of the branches at the tower's top. The view of beautiful, high mountains surrounding green fields and a lake, the sky bright blue and cloudless. In the distance, they could see the shining bronze city of Templum. Abraham also claimed that he could see Vita on the shores of Faq Lake, but Arrekk doubted that Abe's eyes were strong enough to see the tiny level 2.

"Hey Abraham," Arrekk said. "I want a prediction. Will they get out of the tunnels? I can't see how they'd be able to."

"Let's find out, then." Abraham glowed blue for just a moment and then said, "Yes, they will. I haven't the foggiest idea how. Oh! I just leveled. First time, too."

"Congrats, Abe. Well then, could I have another prediction? Something really important, a turning point in Draviston's future."

"That's rather vague, Lord. I will try to find the most crucial event in your lifetime, though I may well fail. Dolphin." When he spoke this word of power, a new effect took place. As usual, he glowed blue, but it didn't stop there. His mouth opened wide and green mist billowed out of it, forming the shape of a snake. The incorporeal serpent turned to Arrekk and hissed in a horrible mockery of Abraham's voice:

Once before you have been told
In a prediction for your soldiers' lord.
When comes the angels' enemies of old
That fortune will come true by the sword.

I tell you again, the traitor the snake,
Who works along with you is the one to hate!
A strained partnership, it will be
And the traitors dislike will never be hard to see.

Still, you must watch an be ready to fight;
For when a common enemy is vanquished it will be time.
The traitor will break, and your work is undone.

The misty serpent opened its mouth, its forked tongue flickering out. The crest of Draviston appeared around it, and then it retreated back down Abraham's throat.

The Predictamancer himself stayed sprawled on the ground, shaking lightly, fists clenched, his eyes dancing behind his eyelids. Arrekk called for a twonicorn to help bring him down into the city, and ordered an archon to get Raphael on the line.

Abraham recovered at the beginning of the next turn with no healing spells, but from then on he refused to speak of the prophecy. From the little that Arrekk got out of him, it seemed that he had seen horrors. The most coherent thing he said when coming out of the trance was "It wasn't the worst. Not by far."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Thu Jan 28, 2010 6:15 pm

"More nantang arrived overnight. Pa'li and infantry today. A caster too, unknown what kind. Golems would have come, but it cost too much to promote them out of Kelutrel's garrisonand if the caster is their Florist then they'll just make more now. I guess they're gearing up for an attack."

"Thanks, Aaron." The warlord sat down and Michael looked around the makeshift table. Every warlord and caster was seated there except for Joseph, who was guarding the tunnel entrances, and Raphael, who was talking with Arrekk about Abraham. The topic of discussion was how to survive Omaticaya's inevitable counter-attack. As the issue stood, there was no hope of retaking Utraya Mokri's courtyard, overflowing as it was with Omaticayan heavies. Of course, they also couldn't wait since hunting parties were now free to croak any yerik they came upon, and unit production would begin again.

Of course it was Seprenta who came up with the plan. It was hard to be annoyed by her when she so obviously hated you but had the sharpest military mind on the side. Unfortunately, it made her even more full of herself.


Their turn. This was it. It was time to end it. Every light unit in Omaticaya save a few golems in Kelutrel were about to attack. Chief Eytucan had sent Fparmil into the magic kingdom to get a calculation from a mathamancer, and there was an 84.6% chance that this force would end it. 300 nantang, 800 pa'li, 7 warlords, 450 soft-wood golems, and a Florist would pour into the dungeon and croak any unit they found.

At'Mo was not like other Florists. She served as high priestess of Eywa in Utraya Mokri until she was forced to flee to Kelutrel. Now she had returned, and was going to demonstrate her specialties: she had almost never used a peace spell in her life, and vastly preferred summoning plant golems. With her domineering presence she had practically usurped Jayk'Suly as leader of the column. Now it was she who ordered the assault from the head of her golems.

The Omaticayan's outnumbered Draviston more than three to one.
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