Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sun Jan 31, 2010 11:49 pm

There was nothing there. Nothing! Jayk'Suly screamed in frustration. This whole war had been fought against a vastly inferior force, but THEY ALWAYS WON! EVERY TIME he had faced them with overwhelming odds they had escaped! EVERY TIME they had escaped they destroyed another portion of Omaticaya's strength! And now they were gone again, fleeing a position just over a turn's move from Kelutrel and Chief Eytucan!

"OUT OF THE TUNNELS!" Teyniri reached the same conclusion only a few moments after her Chief Warlord. Her voice was borderline hysterical as she spun her pa'li to dash into the open.

Outside, Tey'Tsu had been waiting with the second wave to be sent in. He was taken by surprise as the flood of Teyniri's stacks poured from the tunnel with their wide-eyed commander in front, followed by the rest of the units under Jayk and At'Mo. The warlord turned and ran with the tide of units flowing past him, managing to grab a pa'li and maneuver over to Jayk just as they left the city.

"What the hell is happening here Jayk'Suly?" The lighting pace of the movement, which nobody could discern to be a retreat or a charge, didn't slow for an instant.

"It was foolamancy," Jayk shouted back over the thunder of the angtsik's and pa'li's footsteps. "Their not in the tunnels! We found new ones that led outside! They could be three hexes away from Kelutrel right now!"

It seemed as if At'Mo was the only one who stayed calm. This was at least partly on account of her Flower Power, which she was finally able to use to calm the rampaging Ni'va heiress. Finally everybody stopped four hexes from Utraya Mokri and the commanders could have an organized conversation, as most of the junior warlords still had no idea what was going on. Eventually, word was passed throughout the column and the outline of a plan was erected.

Firstly, At'Mo contacted Fparmil, Omaticaya's thinkamancer. Through him she talked with Ting'Nari, who was unable to see the attackers either because they were outside of her range or too well veiled. After that, Chief Eytucan ordered all hunting parties to stop what they were doing and search all surrounding hexes, to no avail. Finally, a mid-level warlord was sent back to Utraya Mokri with three stacks of heavies to prevent an easy takeover, while the rest of the army got as close as they could to Kelutrel, as a precautionary measure against a sneak attack. The sneak attack came.


Viper de Tries was a very skilled person. Besides the 'Mentat' spell that the sapho juice gave him, he had enough foolamancy to veil a single stack or to make himself completely unnoticeable, that is, invisible, perfectly silent, and incorporeal to touch. When combined with the usual mathamancy spells given to a 6th level Mage-Class mathamancer it made him the ultimate spy. So that's what he was doing now, using a spell the weirdomancer had given him to fly far above Blacksickle's column.

A scroll was used to send a one-way thinkagram to Emperor Reptar, explaining the situation. "My lord, the Blacksickle column is leaving the Desert. As you know, they can not pop any units in cities so long as their link is in place, and if they dissolve it almost all of their units will disband. So in order to find enough units to take Zradca they are going into another unknown side's land. Their destination right now seems to be a mass of dense forest hexes."
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Mon Feb 01, 2010 10:55 pm

This time Ting'Nari was able to blow the veil. It was a bit too late for defensive measures to be enacted, unfortunately, as the archons opened fire at the base of Kelutrel. The root columns that supported the organic superstructure groaned an buckled under their withing fire and a blaze roared at the tree's bottom, making it impossible for the defenders to confront the arsonists by moving through there. Ni'va infantry started emerging into the open by means of doors in the bark that led out onto the branches. They were mowed down by the angelic archers, who encircled the entire city.

By this time, fire had spread into the city itself, croaking dozens of palulukan, who had no protection from the flames. Angtsik charged out of the the city, their thick hides protecting them from the inferno for just long enough, only to be croaked by the waiting archons.

When the archons ran out of juice, dirt golems came from the city's bowels and threw themselves on the flames, smothering them with their bodies. They were hardly done with this task when Draviston's forces landed and charged. Twonicorns trampled nantang underfoot as they stormed the commander-free courtyard, and the Dravistites got their first glimpse of the inside of Kelutrel.

Most of the great tree was hollow, but the core, still over a hundred yards in diameter, rose high into the darkness above. The walls of bark loomed over all happening within, although marked with ash where the fire had reached them. Branching off of the core were hundreds pseudo-branches, placed at an easy distance for Ni'va to leap from one to another and scale the innards of their Hometree. Two gaping pits led down into the excavated tunnels of the city. Michael had already set the plan: Zadkiel, Aaron, and Joseph took the qwers down into the tunnels while the rest flew for the top of the tower.

The tunnels twisted and turned at ridiculous angles, trying to navigate their way though the web of roots. At one point, the tunnel split into three new paths, and Zadkiel chose Joseph to take a stack of seven qwers and scout out the area. The first way was a dead end, and the second was the site of their first engagement. Five soft wood and two hard wood golems and a warlord ambushed Joseph's stack around a hairpin turn. Two of the qwers were croaked before Joseph even realized that they were under attack. Joseph was engaged by a heavy hard wood and was knocked from his qwer in a single strike. The Ni'va warlord dove at him, and Joseph rolled off to the side but the spear still clipped his side.

The archers were very good at hiding. They grouped together in stacks of two or three, hiding in almost imperceptible nooks and crannies in the wood core and the bark wall. Despite Raphael's healing magic, he could not be everywhere at once and whenever a twonicorn passed by a hiding spot it was turned into an equine pincushion. Of course, the lancers were still able to fly though their own power, but cavalry numbers were dropping rapidly. Even the lancers with the arrow block ability couldn't protect their steeds unless the saw the volley coming.

The crack of wood on wood echoed through the tunnel as Joseph's elegant club smacked into a golem's head. The Flower Power creation was barely effected by this and simply tossed the warlord to the ground. The ni'va stalked forth again and lunged, scoring another blow on Joseph. He scrambled to his feet and swung the mace with all his strength but it was caught deftly by the opposing warlord, who swung Joseph into a wall, knocking his breath from his lungs. Another stab with the spear was countered by a kick to the stomach, and then Joseph spread his wings. The flashing display of rainbow colors dazzled his opponent's cat-like night eyes just long enough for the archangel to crack him over the head. The Omaticayan warlord collapsed and Joseph bent in for the croak, but the commanders' battle was interrupted by a punch from a soft wood golem. Wielding his club like a bat, Joseph snarled and struck out at the golem, knocking its head askew on its shoulders but not seeming to even inconvenience it. Another golem came from behind and grabbed Joseph's arms, holding him above the ground while one of its compatriots retrieved the warlord's spear.

There was no choice but to send the twonicorns down to the courtyard for their protection, so that's what Michael finally decided to do. Now the air was filled with ni'va leaping from branch to branch and swinging on vines, pursued by lancers on silver wings. Michael, for his part, was chasing a deeply scarred warlord who somehow managed to find opportunities to fire back at the Chief Warlord while still staying a few steps ahead. With each wingbeat Michael was forced to swerve: left, right, down, each time an arrow going whizzing past him. Two were already embedded in his torso, another in his left wing. Without this wound, catching the ni'va would be easy but with it it was all he could do to keep up. Another arrow flew past between his legs, and then the warlord jumped off his branch and fell, not landing on the limb in front of him. Michael allowed himself a second of relaxation while he scanned for another commander to engage, but he regretted it immediately as an arrow sprouted in his back and protruded from his front, quivering, blood splurting everywhere.

Joseph was saved by the cavalry. Aaron's brown and Zadkiel's red qwers crashed through the three remaining wood golems, sending splinters flying everywhere. Joseph mounted a purple just in time for the main corps of Omaticayan golems to arrive.

The ni'va had fallen, sure, but it was on purpose. He had grabbed a vine and swung himself backwards and been flung to a higher branch, where he was in a perfect position to shoot at Michael. Now he jumped again, colliding with the Dravistite Chief head on. With Michaels wounds already sapping his energy, he didn't have enough strength to keep the two of them above and so they fell, grappling, with the archangel blinking in and out of consciousness.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Fri Feb 19, 2010 3:21 pm

Chief Eytucan was preparing for battle. He slipped into leather armor and an aide passed him a spear. Both the offensive and defensive tools were masterfully made, decorated with feathers from toruks. Ting'Nari stood by, showing a live-action video of the battle below. The invaders were slightly in the lead, but he could see that Gal'Trius was about to croak the enemy's Chief Warlord.

He was ready now. His personal guard met him at the door, and they descended into battle.


They continued to fall. Apparently this ni'va wasn't happy to just let gravity take its course, and wanted to finish Michael in mid-air. Gal'Trius was old and battle-scarred, the fur on his head starting to bleach gray, and he was missing an eye and an ear. All his teeth were there though, Michael could see that well enough. The old warlord snarled and bit for Michael's jugular. He twisted his head, though, and the teeth sliced into his shoulder, ripping out a chunk of flesh.

That was when they hit the branch. The pair of warlords spun now, flipping and smashing into more obstacles. While they turned, Michael saw occasional glimpses of the battle above. The main engagement was rapidly sinking out of sight, but one angel was plummeting, wings tight to his sides and gaining. Gal'Trius started to lose his grip, but he dug his claws back into Michael and...

...they reached the ground.


The first wave consisted of soft-wood golems. The qwers dispatched them with ease, splinters flying everywhere in the tight tunnel. Zadkiel lopped the head off one with little effort, and then the next wave came. Three hard-rock golems soared into the air and came down fists out on his qwer. The sheer force of the blows catapulted Zadkiel through the air, and he collided with the ceiling. He came down in the midst of the enemy forces, surrounded by dirt golems.

They were no match for the Prince of Firesquare; each swing of his scimitar turned another one into a lifeless pile of erf. He carved a path through them back towards his own forces. Aaron was locked in combat with a warlord, but a quick pommel to the back of the ni'va's his head was enough to give him the advantage.

Overall, the battle for the tunnels was vast overkill. The hard-rock golems and the one metal golem took so doing to take down, but there were remarkably few Dravistite casualties.


Oh no, nononononono! This is bad! Raphael landed heavily near the tangled bodies of the two warlords. Neither of them moved.

He ripped Gal'Trius off of Michael's body. It was official, the ni'va was croaked. Apparently he had impaled himself on his own arrow, the one sticking out of Michael's chest. But the Dravistite Chief Warlord didn't look much better. Besides the hole in his sternum, there was an arrow through his left wing, chunk missing from his shoulder, and bloody patches missing skin in his upper arms and calves where the claws had held him. His head was bleeding from impact with the ground, and two ribs were poking out of his stomach. His stomach? That didn't bode well for internal bleeding.

Raphael got to work. He first mended the crack in Michael's skull, which took most of his juice. The wing was healed next, and the hole in his chest was sealed. The two ribs snapped back into place. There, that was the most he could do. One more spell, to bring Michael back to consciousness. It worked, thank the titans.

"Don't move yet!" Raphael snapped. "You're bleeding badly, and probably have a lot of broken bones. You need to-"

"They need my bonus, Raphael." And just like that he was off. The healomancer tried to follow, but he collapsed from exhaustion. Seeing this, Michael returned. "Look, take it easy. I'll be fine. Get some of the twonicorns to protect you from a sneak attack." And he was gone again.

Soaring back into the air, Michael felt a lot worse than he sounded. The skinless patches felt like hell, he was sure that both his legs were broken and a couple organs ruptured. But it was true, they did need his bonus. So he burst right back into the middle of the chaotic battle. "KNIGHTS!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. It hurt. "TO ME!"

The battle stopped momentarily. Nobody knew what he had in mind, but Draviston's knights and warlords flocked around him. A quick silent order, and the lancers with some healomancy fixed him up. The ni'va reorganized outside of the flock, preparing for whatever he had in mind. They weren't ready enough.

Michael burst out of the circle of units, leading Uriel and six archons. They spurted out a wheel of shockmancy, with Michael's bonus. Nine warlords croaked. Shocked and lacking leadership, the ni'va scurried back up their tree. In reflection, Michael realized that it must have been intimidating. Him, covered in blood, above a spinning stack of fire and lightning.

"What in..." Chief Eytucan had pumped himself up to go into battle, just to discover that his forces were fleeing. "HALT!" he bellowed at the routing army, and they did. Eytucan and his guard stack dropped down to the bottom of the mob to see what the problem was. It was a very bad move.


So that was it. The end. Finally, the campaign for Anesidora was over. Seeing the ni'va milling around at the top of the tree, Michael had given the order of Uriel and the archons to expend all of their remaining juice. Eytucan had croaked, the rest of the units disbanded. This included the units under Jayk'Suly and Teyniri. Sandalphon, the dirtamancer, was alive and kicking; being captured, he had become a barbarian.

Mining had begun full scale in all three cities taken from Omaticaya. Schmuckers were flowing into the Dravistite treasury at an amazing rate, and everybody expected the empire to enter a golden age.

The feeling was not to last.
Last edited by Sinrus on Wed Mar 03, 2010 5:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Sat Feb 27, 2010 1:33 am

There was light below, and then there was spreading darkness. In the darkness there was a flash of light from above, where the light had never been overtaken by darkness. The light spread outward across the darkness, but the darkness was not destroyed; below was bleached to gray with a dark spot and a light spot. The light spot slowly faded, the dark spot stayed strong. Above, the light became darkness.

A spot of light appeared below. Darkness disappeared above, to be replaced by light. The light below spread slowly, overtaking the gray. The darkness spread, moving towards the light. The light and the darkness collided.

The titans watched, and hoped.


It was light. Too light for Rei. She had just come out of the mountain tunnel and was blinking her eyes in pain from the sudden onslaught of brightness from the outside sun. She wished that it could get a bit darker.

And then it did.

Rei blinked again, out of surprise. What was she, a changemancer? Was there a chance that they had missed it when she popped? And then as she looked around, the terrified faces of her men corrected her. The sun had been blotted out by a massive overflight of unidentifiable units; certainly not belonging to Draviston.

She processed this for a second. Tire'em was under attack, that much was obvious. The flying army had passed straight through the hex of Hallelujah Mountains that she was in and didn't have even seemed to notice her. The city would be taken, of course. It was practically undefended. The new kid, Jadon, would be croaked. Ah well, Rei hadn't liked him much anyway. She finally decided that she would watch the battle through the hex boundary and flee into the bowels of the mountain if they came back in her direction. It wasn't like she could help anyway, with it being not her turn.


While Rei was watching helplessly, Jadon was fighting hopelessly. Nearly the entire garrison had been croaked, he and a single stack of lancers were all that remained alive. Some bat-human skeleton things made up the majority of the enemy force, but there was still a small number of them. If all of Tire'em's forces were in the city, they might have had a chance. As it was, they were scattered across the surrounding hexes, clearing the mountains of wild ikran and constructing mines.

As Jadon dispatched another uncroaked, the battle ended. A dwacolich raised its head into the air, bellowed, and launched a blast of dark energy into the last six defenders.


That was it, then. A very climactic end to a battle, Rei had to admit. That black explosion, and then silence. Very cool.

Then the sun went out again. Startled, Rei stared up into the sky. Another dwacolich was crossing her hex with unidentifiable riders on its back. A small escort came along, just a stack of flying snake skeletons. Now she could do something.

Seven lancers followed her, screaming their bloodlust or, rather, marrowlust as vengeance for the quick conquering of Tire'em. The uncroaked snakes turned their heads and gave a rattling hiss, whipping about to engage the attackers. Oddly, the dwacolich and its riders kept going.

"Interesting..." Rei muttered. "Lancers, distract the snakes!" she ordered. "I'm going for the dwagon!"

The dwacolich didn't even seem to notice as she landed on its back. She half-folded her yellow wings; keeping them open would have created too much drag, but she wanted out of their fast if the dwacolich got angry.

The riders were mounted one behind another, three in total. They were all hooded, wearing this weird triple robe with the sleeves attached to each other, so that each person on the edge had one free hand and the one in the middle was connected to both the others. They facing forward and, like their mount, completely ignoring her. Well, if she had anything to say about, they would have no choice but to pay attention real soon.

She was right behind the first figure now. She yelled, help up her sword for a croaking thrust, and threw back the hood. A skull faced her, spinning lights like red catherine wheels deep in its eye sockets.

She couldn't move. Paralyzed. Frozen. Transfixed by the spinning lights.

The skeleton raised its free hand and pointed at her.

The eyes pulsed, red filling the entire socket. They shrunk again, and expanded again.

It's hand glowed red.

They spun faster, beating quickly, like her heart, she couldn't move, she was scared, she wanted to run, to jump to fly a way from this abomination, to escape at any cost, to-

The eyes pulsed. The hand's glow discharged. Rei fell.
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Re: Post-Apocawypse: A fan fiction story

Postby Sinrus » Wed Mar 03, 2010 6:25 pm

"Dammit Adeline, what's going on?" Arrekk stalked angrily around the throne room, while the archon commander stood with her eyes closed, two fingers held to her temple. She heard him faintly, but ignored it; the battle was almost over and he would want to know how it ended.

Her eyes snapped open. "I'm sorry, Arrekk." She said. "Utraya Mokri has been lost to the enemy. Jacob has been croaked, along with the entire garrison."

"Damnit!" Arrekk stamped his foot in almost child-like rage. "Two cities and three warlords gone in a turn! Do you have any idea who's attacking us?"

"Charlie is still investigating, Lord. But there is some good news, it appears that their turn has ended. Moreover, Oh! I'm getting an incoming thinkagram!"

Arrekk's head snapped around to focus on her. "From Charlie?"

"No... It doesn't feel like the arkendish."

"Our mystery attackers then?"

"Could be. I'm answering it now, get your Overlord face on." A blue, incorporeal face appeared in front of Arrekk. The man's skin was stretched tightly over his face, his eyes were slits, his nose didn't even protrude off his face. When he smiled, his teeth were blunt and Arrekk suspected that they were yellow.

"Hello... You are Overlord Arrekk of Draviston, I presume?" The voice was low and hissing with contempt.

"I am. Are you the one who has ordered the attacks upon our cities?"

"Hah. No. I am Emperor Reptar, Ruler of the Empire of the Poison Desert. I received a thinkagram today from a certain Overlord Charlie, who told me that both our sides were at war with the same foe, a side known as Blacksickle. It is they who have attacked you. They also hit us, hard. The contrast is, now you are a side with a good number of cities remaining and very few units. I rule a side with only one city remaining and some 30,000 units. A combination like that is pretty strong. Ge the drift?"

"You want an alliance."

"By the Titans, de Tries, he understands! Yeah, Overlord, I want an alliance. Hold them off as long as you can, and I'll push straight at their capital with a full, say, 200,000 units. How's that sound?"

"Sounds great, Emperor Reptar. Adeline, end the call."

Arrekk's head disappeared. Reptar turned to Viper de Tries and said, "De Tries, this guy strikes me as a weakling and an idiot. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"My calculations give the plan an 88.7% chance of success, Emperor."

"Mmm. Fine. It'll just be painful to work with that naive Overlord."


"Happy with that outcome, Arrekk?" He was back in that weird thinkagram world of Charlie's. It always made him nervous from the sheer vulnerability he felt in that red jumpsuit, but there didn't seem to be any other way of communicating with Charlie.

"Yeah, definitely. Nicely done there. So about this Blacksickle side, know anything about them other than who they fight?"

"Heh. Yep. Their greatest strength is their greatest weakness, first off."

"That's cryptic."

"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say, they can't pop any units in their cities. Almost their entire is uncroaked, but they don't seem to decay at all. They're no decrypted, of course, they still have upkeep and look like corpses. I don't know how they do it, unfortunately. The only living units on the side are a few knights and warlords, a scattering of infantry, and the royal family: Emperor Sepulchre, Crown Princess and Chief Warlord Gravelyn, Sepulchre's brother Prince Valoth, and Princess Medeia."

"Why is the side's name so familiar? We haven't interacted with them at all, I'm sure."

"That Foolamancer, Seprenta, was working for them until you called her back for the Omaticaya war."

"Oh, of course. How could I forget."

"You cut me off again. Shame. This next part is important. After you took Kelutrel I sent an archon to tail her, on a whim. Guess where she went back to."
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