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.