Twisted Infinitum v Bleater

[Max Dirks]

Since it's down to two, there will only be one thread for the finals. Here is a link to the map for the round. Twisted will begin in the top left corner, and Bleater will begin in the bottom right corner. The area of the map is 2 miles x 2 miles and the structure in the middle is a look out tower. With the exception of some small hills, you are fighting on the plains of Gisela, the place where the original tournament began. Play hard, fight well.

The Finals begin Thursday, October 25th, at 12 AM CST. The tournament will end on Thursday, November 8th, at 12 AM CST. Please note this is only TWO weeks. Good luck!

[Bleater]

The men had held their own bravely despite it being clear to all that they were outmatched. Only when a flash of light had burst in between the armies, seperating them did the chaos come to a halt. Some force held back at each of the armies, pushing on the wall division as hard as Thoracis' men had, and likewise pushing the Lord General's dwarven marauders back. Between the two forces, a throng of the Ai'borne stood, an immense sense of power resonating from them. One approached William's army, as the drow stuffled to pull Corporal Krybirr to his feet while the medics tended to his wounds. William locked eyes with one of the monks, stepping forward over broken bodies and a blood painted field.

"We have been watching, and your presence is requested elsewhere. You must go to the plains of Gisela itself at once."

William was stunned but seemed appauled at the same time.

"Now wait just one sodding moment. Just what's-"

But the stoic voice of the monk cut him off, eyes as blue as the sea looking right into the soul of the capran.

"We do not have time to explain. Just know that you must be prepared to make your final stand."

Several of the other monks behind the speaker formed a circle, closing their eyes and chanting with a low murmur. As they did, a ball of purple so dark that it seemed almost black began to form in think air, spinning wildly with crackles of electric energy around it.

"We shall retrieve your others as well, to rejoin you on the final battlefield. Now please..."

The ball shuddered slightly before stretching hugely into a verticle disk of black, purple energy swirling in a ring around the outer rim. It stretched higher and higher, growing taller than even the Behemoth. And slowly, it began moving towards the army, creeping forward. Some of the men shrinked away from it, while others looked on curiously. William stood at the head of the men, the portal opening a mere foot from him. With caution, he reached forward and touched the surface of the energy disk, the air feeling like a viscous liquid floating before him. As he tried pulling his hand back, the portal stretched with him, as if some sticky black goo was on the surface, clinging to William's forehoof. He paniced a bit, slapping at the stretching mass that was holding him, before feeling it start to pull him inward towards the darkness. As he tumbled ahead, he felt the blackness wrap around him like a wet blanket, raveling around him and binding him tight. Then... everything went black.

~~~

William's eyes gently fluttered open to see an azure sky in front of them. Small whisps of billowing white clouds stretched overhead, pushed along by a cool, gentle breeze that grazed over his fur. Her could feel soft, lush grass beneath his back as he lay on the ground, staring up at the peaceful sky.

It all must have been a dream.

A smile crept across his lips as the goat stared with his heart swelling inside his chest, a warm feeling stretching over him. The rich grass swayed in the breeze, brushing against his side like thousands of small insect legs, calmly ruffling his fur and soothing the capran. A small paddin sound came from above his head at a stretch of grass that William could not see. It took only seconds for him to recognize the sound as footsteps crossing over the soft ground, and shortly after, he found a dark elven face looking down at him.

"We found him, sir!"

William's pupils dialated and his eyes widened as the truth began to hit him. It wasn't a dream. This wasn't heaven. Reality crashed hard against him, like a hammer had slammed into his gut. William sat up with a start, looking back over his shoulder. A few dozen yards away, troops were getting their bearings, readjusting their armor and weapons and starting to fall into ranks. Ahead of them, Corporal Krybirr walked tall, a handful of the Stormtrooper Division soldiers trailing him as they approached.

Bollocks!

"Good to see you awake, Mr. Steinbock" the drow said in his serious tone, despite his face seeming softer, almost showing relief.

Amazingly, the injuries from Thoracis' attack were gone from the dark elf's face, and he came to a stop just short of William. The goat groaned as he turned over, pushing himself up on all fours and then standing fully. Small blades of the soft grass clung to his hindquarters, pleading with William to lay back down and relax, but he knew there was no chance of that as he brushed them off.

"How long was I asleep?" William said, raising a hoof up to cover his eyes. The sun was cast just over the drow's shoulder, and it burned in the goat's eyes when he tried to look at him.

"Hard to say." the corporal responded, squinting and scratching his neck. "How long have all of us been asleep? Hours, days, weeks? We're not really sure. The first of the men awoke about an hour ago, and I only woke up about fourty minutes ago. The men who first woke said that one of the Ai'borne monks were watching over us, and pointed us in that direction."

The drow pointed northwest across the rolling plains and hills, William's eyes tracing the invisible line from his fingertip to the horizon.

"They said there's a tower we should look for there to guide us, and that our enemy awaits us."

William looked around, seeing more and more of the army. The behemoth still stood in full-form behind the main army, the giant golem-like apparatus sitting on the ground next to an airship. Among the men, William noticed a group of drow who were dressed unlike the rest of the army. He recognized the garb they wore as being the uniform of Thoracis' army, and his eyebrows bunched with alarm.

"And them?"

The drow officer looked back to the men, shaking his head. "Damn unfortunate for them. They were close enough, that they were pulled into whatever portal the Ai'borne used to bring us here. They were on edge to say the least at first, but I spoke with the men and the officers among their ranks and put them at ease. They have agreed to help us, not that they have anywhere else to go anyway."

A single horse raced from the west, the clomping of it's hooves pounding out disruption to the calm surroundings. The gentle grass was torn and soft earth kicked up in its wake, as a lone Eyes and Ears scout raced back towards the camp. All eyes fell on him as he drew in close, slowing his horse bit by bit until he reached the men. The horse reared up with a whinny as it stopped, and the rider's dark face looked pale to a shade of grey, a grim look wrapped around his maw.

"Corporal, we were right. He was trying to take it for his own. He's assembled a small group of men, about a half mile west of here. The other airship was there, but it's too damaged to be usable."

Corporal Krybirr scowled as William raised an eyebrow with confusion.

"Who's there? Someone tried to take the airship?" William said in disbelief.

Shalacius nodded, looking vexed. "Apparently, Captain Lashgiver survived the attack on the airships. When we woke, several of the troops saw him and a few of the Shock Troops on the airship, tinkering with things. We ran him off, and I sent this scout to follow them, suspecting that he was trying again to rally a mutiny against me. We managed to keep him from stealing the airship, but he took all of the Shock Troops with him."

"Sir, that's not all." the scout said, making the corporal's head whip back to him with concern. "He has more men out there too. A group of human cavalrymen and a large group of dwarves."

A vein stuck out in Corporal Krybirr's temple as he rubbed his head with frustration. "No doubt more of Thoracis' men who got pulled through the portal. Damn dwarves are loyal to each other to a fault. He must have convinced the men that we drow were plotting, or somehow the enemy."

William looked at the officer with concern, the breeze blowing through his fur no longer doing anything to calm him.

"So what do we do?"

"We get everyone ready and march northwest." the drow said, turning on his heels and starting to head back to the main army. "We just have to take care to realize that we have two enemy armies now, and one of them is our own."

[Bleater]

The gangplanks were stretched out from the rich brown cedar of the airship deck downward, digging down into the soft earth and fraying the lush grass. As the men trampled the greenery underfoot, William looked on with a disturbed look.

So peaceful, and calm. Just us being here is tearing this place apart. This place is so pristine, it's like no one's been here for years...

"Ranking orders, load up! We need to prepare for take-off!" the voice of Corporal Krybirr shouted off to the capran's left. William saw the stately officer stride over to him with long steps, his eyes scanning to the side to watch many of the men load onto the airship.

"Mr. Steinbock..." he said, but with a pause. Shaking his head, he corrected himself. "William, I'm going to be leaving the remnants of the Phalanx Division, as well as the Wall Company and the Medics to your command on the ground."

William looked curiously at him, and nodded.

"Taking the Protective Division up?"

"Indeed. That treacherous dwarf may have almost pushed us into a massacre in our last fight," the drow replied, flicking his tongue in his mouth as if eating something bitter at the mention of the mutinous captain, "but tactically, the idea of using the First Strikers on the airships as an 'attack-from-above' troupe was brilliant. I'm going to be taking them up again, along with the Swarm Company. They're the most suited for rapid deployment, so once we launch a few barrages of arrows at the enemy, we'll be able to offload our offense quickly."

The goat nodded, taking it in.

"You sure you want me running things down here instead of taking your place on the airship? There's more men, and more different divisions down here to try to organize."

Shaking his head 'no', Corporal Krybirr placed a hand on the capran's shoulder. His steel grey eyes looked directly into William's, as he spoke with confidence. "I was unsure about you when this began William. But more and more, you have proven not only your worth, but your character. I trust that you'd be able to lead these men faithfully. Besides, you already are in command of the Behemoth Division, and that's already about half of the men we have left anyway."

William's head bobbed slightly with agreement, but his gaze slid downward to his feet, his head hanging with uncertainty.

"But I'm not a soldier. I'm an academic. I'm not fit for this."

"Hey..." the dark elf said, slipping a hand under his chin, gripping his snout tightly. He pulled William's mouth and nose up with a firm hold, looking at him with a harsh glare. "You're a leader. You're as fit for this as anyone, even me. Don't ever let me hear you say otherwise."

Looking back, the drow watched the last of the men he was taking with him board the airship, everyone settling in and stowing their equipment. "The men need to see confidence from you. It keeps their morale up. And for what it's worth... you are not only a good leader and commander, but also the only Raiearan I've ever met that was worth a damn."

William locked eyes with him, and Shalacius could see the fervor and esteem rise inside William's chest. Pulling from the corporal's grip, William shook his head. "Not Raiearan. Aleraran."

William's eyes narrowed with a fire inside them, and the drow stared for a second to absorb it. Tucking his lower lip up, he shrugged in acceptance. "Well, then I'd say you finally earned the right to be called that. In that case, let's lead our countrymen into battle."

Corporal Krybirr turned, marching towards the gangplank, the last to board the airship. William watched every step until the officer reached the deck, then turned to face his own men. Drawing a deep breath into his swelling chest, his voice boomed as he called out the orders; for the first time, pride could be heard in his voice.

"All ground troops, prepare to march! Ready the Behemoth, and follow your formation ranks. We've got a tower to get to!" He shouted, pointing off to the northwest. The men snapped to attention, and William had a profound moment of pride. Many of the men who had looked unsure of him just days before now looked at him the same way they did Corporal Krybirr. He really was their leader: Not only did he know it, but they did too.

~~~~

*CRACK*

The lashing sound of the long whip rang in the air as it snapped inches away from one of the supply wagon drivers. Captain Lashgiver snarled as he barked orders out to his men, a contingent of about two hundred troops that were already kicking dust up in their wake as they marched northward up a soft, rolling hill.

"We need to move out, men! We were lucky enough to get the supply wagons, which means those drow dogs are left tired and with empty bellies. Make no mistake, they will not wait around for hunger and lack of equipment to cause their demise."

His eyes washed over small troops movements marching in blocks, never taking note of any one soldier, and none of the men ever looking at the dwarf commanding him. It would be obvious to outside eyes that the Captain was talking at his men, rather than to them.

"They will move quickly and try to end this battle before the day is out, so we cannot afford to rest either. There is glory to be had today, and I'll be damned if it's going to fall into the dark elves' treasonous hands! MOVE!"

There was another crack of the whip as the forced march continued onward. Evanthor pressed the men hard, knowing he would have to. Corporal Krybirr and that bastard goat had the airship on their side, as well as troops that were used to prolonged marches. Most of Lashgiver's men were conscripted from Thoracis' army, and would be much slower to goad along. Still, he already had planned for the bulk of the Aleraran army to reach the battlefield and engage the enemy first. It was they that the Captain and his group of dwarves and humans could flank them from behind, hopefully rolling through them and mopping up whatever of the enemy forces were left.

But running too late would pose the risk of the drow having already won, in which case there would be no enemy to distract them. He knew that he was outnumbered and outclasses by Shalacius' troops, but the ambush would give them the upper hand. That, and one treacherous trick that the dwarf had up his sleeve.

Just thinking about it, brough an evil smile to his bearded face.

[Twisted Infinitum]

The myriad of wires were stretched and woven into increasingly intricate forms as they found connections far from those in the design specs. Capacitors, lit with small bulbs like trapped pixies, hummed in protest. The wires were winding around them, cinching tighter than their frail legs could bear. One gave, leaning to one side like a fallen tree and spewing sparks in the other direction. Three more followed in single file, bright with sympathy.

The Astounding Relativologist jerked his hand from the innards of the device and let its large, boxy frame clatter to the vehicle’s floor as he spit a curse that Althanas certainly had never heard before. Twenty of his students, who had chatting away conspiratorially over their work stations, froze and stared at him. Their faces were dark under the brims of their ridiculously bulbous helmets, but their professor could still see the barely there smirks. They were becoming more disrespectful with every moment that passed in this accursed world.

The silence filled the bulky vehicle’s interior like fog. Every sound from the clatter of swaying tools to the creak of the metal treads seemed to magnify. Then, The Astounding Relativologist pointed to the closest student and stated, “I require your weapon.”

The others let out their held breaths, but the addressed student cradled the large gun to his chest. “How will I-“ he began.

“You’ll drive on the next shift,” his teachers said curtly.

With a wide grin of relief, the teen unplugged the gun’s complex, blinking panels from a large device on his vest and handed the unworldly weapon over. The Astounding Relativologist received it hurriedly and torn the side panel open like a predator. Grunting, he hefted the end of the boxy device back onto his lap and proceeded to transplant parts with not a hint of scientific precision. He ran a hand across his lotioned brow, almost knocking his own helmet off. Then, like the annoying buzz of an insect, he realized that the students were still silent, still staring.

“What were you talking about?” he asked with false interest and only the barest glance of his tired eyes.

Strangely, the students seemed eager to tell him. “One of the rabbits told me that the black cats were eating our wounded!” said the loudest voice within the rabble. Instantly, the others let fly their prepared statements.

“They wouldn’t let that happen. Didn’t you see all those bandaged rabbits after? They seemed fine… given the circumstances.”

“Some of the girls from that other army disappeared too, I think!”

Exasperated, The Astounding Relativologist returned to his work. Thoughts of brutality were replaced with circuitry, and the world seemed calmer for all of five seconds. That was when a seven foot, three hundred pound rabbit in dented steel armor entered through the open door behind the driver.

“Wot’s this scared talk in here?” he asked in a voice that drawled between crisp peaks. His thick arms were crossed, enhancing his bulk so that they could just barely see the ground creeping by outside the door. The loudest student repeated his line, and the others tried to look away. The hare’s eyes narrowed in thought, then he said with a shake of his great head, “Bloomin’ soft hoomans.”

He spun the chair behind him and sat down next to the driver, startling the poor boy so badly that he almost lost control of a craft traveling on par with snails. The hare seemed to not notice, but he did take a moment to look through the windshield at the armored backs of numerous other hares. In an awed hush, he commented on the impossibility of seeing out when the entire vehicle was encased in a single tread. With a shrug, he dismissed the peculiarity as just another that was normal among these strange people.

“Listen, kiddins,” he said fatherly, clearly addressing The Astounding Relativologist as well. “That’s a reality of war. Some of us don’t make it out the other end. Those… servants of Miss Mau were giving them a quick end. It looks like she has more cats, now, so don’t be thinking it was in vain. It was in the name of our Queen, may she live eternal forthwit.”

“Yes, yes,” agreed the professor without looking up. “I’ve read all the books on war. You need to maximize your strength through the recycling of resources. No time for sentimentalities.”

The hare’s brows narrowed considerably. “Those chaps were my brothers in arms,” he snapped. “They died to protect your children from a war they shouldn’t be in!” The aforementioned children shrank back against the cold walls as the air between aged human and bulky hare began to boil.

“It’s very simple. If Father Brain had found a more efficient group to partner us with, we wouldn’t be advancing by such slim margins. Perhaps… necromancers.” Buck teeth waved in the air as the hare tried to form words through his rage. Utterly failing, he stomped out the door with such force that the vehicle rocked.

Immediately, he was accosted at ear height by a large floating eyeball. The back of it glowed and hummed with the same circuitry as the other human devices. Disdainfully, the hare snorted and hopped forward to join the furry ranks.

*~*

Through the eye, two beings watched from a world far above, one that barely fit the definition of a world. Amid the ethereal fog of every color imaginable, all that existed were their two forms and the numerous screens floating before them. Each showed a different view of the same scene. Their army moved in the wake of ten grumbling, bouncing vehicles, hastily acquired from an ally in the previous battle. In the back of each were seated a handful of humans that looked, from above, like nothing more than a collection of steel balls. A large mass of armored hares followed, each looking battle worn in their dirt encrusted armor. They had shone so brilliantly once. Behind them, setting the slow pace of the army, was the transport that one hare stomped away from.

I highly doubt you would ever enlist necromancers, said Amethyst Possum with an air of disappointment. He pushed his spectacles farther up his snout.

Totally never, Onyx Calico said over him. She seemed unaffected by her loyal worshipper’s anger, for her face, a mix of feline and cherub, showed only topical disgust at the mages of the undead.

Possum eyed her curiously. Is that pickiness why you didn’t borrow more troops from your… daughter-in-law’s army? He looked over his shoulder at the being that would be considered her ‘son’, wrapped around a large red bubble. Literally, Edgar was half a man, perhaps less for his translucent flesh that bared disturbingly mortal organs for all to see. The bubble that he framed showed a scene of untouched grasslands and a long rise of hills just to the left that was partially blocked by the bulky helm of the student driving the truck.

I’m not picky! Calico pouted. I just didn’t want to take them away from her. She liked those girls a lot, and they liked her too. The rest were smelly, especially the pirates.

Possum sighed warily and looked at another of the screens. It showed the only other offering she had allowed them to accept, or evidence of it, rather. The living shadows were buried just under the surface of the ground, hiding from the sun, but their bodies left very visible trails of cracked earth. As supply bearers, they would have been useful if their speed wasn’t so slow as to leave them lagging behind the main army. To protect them, or maybe just for company, Tortured Mau and her cats paced themselves just as slowly.

With another question ready, Possum turned to Calico. But, at the sight of her staring dreamily into Edgar’s bubble while she swayed in mockery of the bumps, he reconsidered. She had been forceful in her denial to talk about the strange cat-like being that looked so much like her.

So, reluctantly, Possum turned back to the screen with questing eyes. The regal form, adorned in fine silks and ornaments, riding sidesaddle on the back of one midnight black cat, looked like royalty personified. But, there was something about her stance and her downcast muzzle that stirred not respect, only pity. She was a puzzle, and Possum had yet to find one that he couldn’t solve.

[Bleater]

William's eyes roamed upward, watching the rich brown of the airship hull cut through the azure sky above. Even his hooves were getting sore from all the marching of the past few days, and secretly he felt envy inside on both occasions when one of the other leader had gotten the priviledge of riding the airships to the battlefront. Still, he watched the vehicle closely, passing the time in the forced march by taking note of each curve and line of the airship's design. His mind drifted to his work, mentally dissecting the creation while trying to ignore the arduous task before him and his troops. Every third step, he felt his hooves bounce off the ground a fraction of an inch from the massive Behemoth's bulk rattling the earth with each plodding step it took. The airship was far ahead, at least a good ten minutes walk, before William was suddenly snapped out of his trance.

The airship had begun turning, banking gently against the wind as it eased in a wide circle against a huge, pale gray tower of marble. He had barely noticed how far they were progressing, but the vision of the tower brought him rocking forward on the fronts of his hooves with each step with anticipation and paranoia. The final fray would begin soon enough, and this marker was the first step towards it.

~~~

The airship had made three passes around the tower before William's men had reached it. As they came closer, they watched as the me on the airship deck shifted back and forth endlessly, heads leaning far over the rails to look to the horizon in every direction. The men aboard the ship scurried like ants as they scoured the landscape for any signs of an enemy. William turned his attention from them to the tower as his men came to a stop, the halting force kicking up a plume of dust as their march paused. All around the base, the grass was thinner, soft dust and soil sunken between sparse patches of yellowish-green. The air had become very humid, and it gave a putrid smell of mildew to the vegetation nearby.

From this close, he could see that moss stretched up from the foot of the rutty stone base, crawling up to twice his height on the wall. Above that, strands of ivy stretched up half the length of the tower, clinging desperately to thin cracks between the smooth stones. The shadow of the airship fell over the men and the Behemoth as it began circling for another pass.

"Eyes and Ears Company! Front and center!" William called out, turning to face the men and reaching both of his thin forelimbs behind his back. Standing stately, almost in mimickry of Corporal Krybirr's usual stance, his face was stern as four scouts scampered quickly to the front of the formation, the men snapping to attention and bringing a salute to their forehead.

"Present and ready for duty, sir!" They replied in unison, and William nodded with inner pleasure. Not looking back to the tower, he pulled one hoof from behind him and stretched it out, pointing it back behind him at the foreboding and decaying structure.

"I need you to scout the tower, men."

The four men looked back and forth among each other, before one with a befuddled look stepped forward, rising into a wide and powerful stance with his hands clasped behind his back.

"But sir, that tower is too slender to hold an enemy army."

Giving an apathetic look, William reached into his vest pocket, pinching the tip of a cigar between the clefts of his hooves. He slid it between his lips and onto his black tongue as he began fishing in another pocket for some flint and motioned the scout forward with the other.

"I'm well aware of that, soldier." William said as the scout moved right up to him, taking the liberty to reach in the capran's pocket and retrieve the flint and some tinder for him. Be began sparking it in his hands, holding them cupped to the goat's cigar. "However, we were pointed in this direction and told to look for our enemy. The monks never told us it was a foreign army. For all we know, there could be a powerful wizard who's gone mad that we need to defeat, or some deposed warlord hiding out."

William puffed on the cigar as plumes of smoke rose from the end and the tip turned to glowing amber, the scout quickly dropping the remaining piece of tinder and stamping it out on the ground.

"That being said, we need to exhaust all possibilities. So I need you four to move into the tower and find your way to the top as quickly as you can. If you run into any trouble, report back here immediately." William began pacing, gesturing invisibly through the air with the cigar as if it were a pointer. "If you see anything, report back here immediatey. And if you boys make it all the way to the top and find nothing.... report back here immediately. Seems simple, yes?"

William's usual sardonic personality was slipping through, as the soldier stepped back among the rest of his company, the entire rank of men shouting: "Sir, yes, Sir!"

Nodding, William pulled the cigar back to his mouth and puffed away as the four men moved coutiously to the open archway at the base of the tower. One by one, the men slipped into the darkness beyond the arch as they hurried to start their expedition. After the last disappeared from view, William's eyes drifted back up to the airship. Again, he found himself with time to pass, and began watching it closely again in the trance, moting every detail he could from this distance. His eyes scanned it from each angle as it slowly continued making yet another revolution around the tower...

[Bleater]

William and the troops held anxiously at the foot of the tower, looking up the length of the greenish-grey marble. It had taken a good 15 minutes for the scouts to scale it to the topmost portions, and when they leaned out one of the top windows, they were hardly visible to the capran. A sharp eyed drow of the stormtrooper company prodded him in the ribs, gesturing upwards at the figures.

"Up there. They've given the all clear signal. Nothing's inside."

William nodded, but something else was drawing his attention. The airship had broken it's stationary orbit encircling the tower, and was now heading directly westward. Motioning to it, he grunted and spoke gruffly to the dark elf.

"The airship's moving out, and their course is different."

The drow spotted this, nodding in silent agreement before his eyes came down to rest on the goat commander.

"What do you think it means, sir?"

"I suspect those blokes have spotted something off in that direction, probably enemy movement."

The drow looked to the airship, then back to the capran.

"Lashgiver's men?"

William just shook his head negatively, casting a glance back to the south.

"No, they're out there. They'd be coming from that way, and I can feel their dwarven eyes on me. I have a suspicion that he's been stalking us for a while and is choosing to hold back instead of move along our flank. He'd run too much risk of running into the enemy army, and then he'd be trapped between us and them: something he does not want."

The drow looked to the south, but saw nothing but small green hills of rolling grasses and the sun hanging high above them.

"Are we going after them?"

"No, we let that lot make their move first. In the meantime, we need to support Corporal Krybirr and the other men. Signal for the scouts to hold up in the tower, and I want you to start moving the remaining ground troops into the tower. Have them post on the stairs and hold position."

The dark elf shot the goat an enigmatic look, but the goat seemed not to notice, transfixed on the departing airship.

"Sir, if we're supporting the corporal, why are the men staying here?"

The goat turned, facing the drow and scoffing.

"I'm going to move the Behemoth out to the west. With any luck, Lashgiver's men will take the bait and follow us out. When they do, the ground troops can flank them and overtake those tossers. Then you lads can regroup with us with them out of the way. We outnumber and outclass them, so once we take their rear attack out of the equation, they won't be an issue."

The drow nodded as the commander turned again, marching towards the Behemoth. The dark elf began signalling to the troop divisions and the men in the tower, as everyone began to take their positions.

~~~~~~~~

Captain Lashgiver sat on the rich, soft grass, muttering with an unhappy look. One of the dwarfs near him, squatted low, made his way with a crouching walk and looked questioningly at the dwarven captain.

"Sir, if I can speak freely, I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable with not being able to see the ground troops."

Evanthor snorted as he rolled his head, picking some blades of grass between his fingers.

"If we go over this hill to see them, then they can see us. From here, we're hidden to them, and can keep an eye on the airship and the Behemoth. I know Krybirr, wherever that airship goes, his troops follow." The captain scowled as the grass left faint green stains on his fingertips as he pinched and rubbed the shreds of grass between them. "We don't have as much risk of getting spotted, even from above, because we have the sun to our backs, and if they look over the hill, they'll see nothing but the glare. We hold here and watch-"

Another dwarf cleared his throat loudly, interrupting and drawing the attention of the two.

"Sir, the airship has started moving to the west. The Behemoth looks like it's getting ready to move out too."

Captain Lashgiver gave a sinister grin as he tossed the torn blades of grass from his fingertips to the gentle sloing ground.

"Good. We hold here until their backs are to us and they've started moving out. Then we'll move to match them."

The men were anxious for a fight, and Lashgiver was anxious for his revenge. And under his breath, he muttered something with sadistic glee.

"And once Krybirr finds out the little surprise I have for him, the rest of his men should prove to offer no problem..."

[Twisted Infinitum]

In the lead truck, the army’s “commander” rode shotgun. However, he paid little mind to his duties. Of greater concern was the arduous task of keeping his half-gummy, half-wooden body from slipping off the seat. That particular problem was due to his armor, a haphazard collection stolen from the hares. The whole set was pre-battle smooth, bulky beyond reason, and certain pieces were positioned upside-down. As far as the truck’s cab was concerned, he might as well have been slathered in grease. If he hadn’t lost his spear somewhere along the way, it might have ended up in the ear of his teenage driver. So, all things considered, it was an average day for the semi-sentient puppet, a little good mixed into the usual daze of unexpected pains and frequent possessions.

With his mismatched legs braced against the floor boards, and his armored butt sliding nonetheless, he observed the pointlessly pretty grasslands stretching ahead of them. Occasionally, one of the army’s numerous eyeballs would drift into view before lilting skyward again. They seemed to be staying closer than usual to the army. Perhaps they were hiding, he reasoned. If Calico had been paying attention, she would have praised him mightily for such a feat of logic. But, as far as he could see through his Dream World half, she was preoccupied. This situation… downtime, someone had once called it, appealed to him. It meant that he didn’t get stomped, cut, or catapulted nearly as much as normal.

“Mechanical propulsion,” spat the teenage driver as if naming a bodily excretion. “I had thought putting treads under our anti-grav generators was low, but at least the trajectory was smooth. This is-“ A bump sent his colon into his throat, silencing his complaining that had known only these momentary breaks during the whole trip.

Edgar’s next action probably seemed like exasperation with the youth. But it was actually the most natural of occurrences, in his frame of reference, when his head suddenly slammed forward into the dashboard so forcefully that the glove box popped open and spilled an assortment of Peel-n-Stick “I <3 Thoracis” bumper stickers into his lap.

The puppet’s head, in no worse than its usual condition, craned upward and turned to the shocked driver. His pubescent voice caught as he tried to say something but was distracted by the fierce red glow that had overtaken Edgar’s single ogling eye. “The old owner should have cleaned,” said the puppet in a voice that was chipper, feminine, and entirely too happy about inhabiting a body with its throbbing half-brain visible in the jelly. After a moment of acclimatization, Calico grabbed the bumper stickers with her creaky wooden hand and threw them out the open window. They fluttered away like party streamers.

“Ok, TAR’s minion,” she said, addressing the young man with the malleable half of her face stretching into a wide grin. He had just gotten over his shock and found the throttle again. “Full stop!” she ordered. His foot shot to the brakes and the truck tore up the grasslands on its way to zero velocity. The other nine trucks performed similar maneuvers, especially those directly behind the leader. It didn’t take much cajoling to get the students out of the vehicles. They all seemed a little motion sick. And the hares were quick to gather around when they realized that their almighty Queen was once again gracing them with her presence.

“Hi, cuties!” Calico chimed.

The hare commander, one Sergeant Puddles Butterworth, stepped forward to speak on their behalf. He was clearly their leader, for his belly was the most rotund, his armor the most gilded, and he was the only hare sporting a monocle. “May you live eternal forthwit, my Queen,” he droned, though a hint of inner joy crept through his stately visage.

“Oh, you flirt,” the gruesome puppet said while gesturing girlishly.

“Why have we stopped?” demanded The Astounding Relativologist. With surprising stealth, his vehicle had crept up between the hare ranks and the hills. His hunch seemed worse and his eyes more worried as he waited at the craft’s door.

“We’re going… there!” Calico shouted happily as she pointed straight at the lumpy stone ridge. After relishing in the stupefied silence of her audience, she continued. “The eyeballers saw a beautiful stone tower to the east. It’s even got a tall guy with a balloon. They could see him from this far, so he’s probably at least as big a five Edgars. The balloon’s big too. We could use it to fly away…”

Even her loyal hares were admittedly confused, and the army turned as one to face The Astounding Relativologist. As they expected, he was listening intently to a voice from within his mighty helmet. After a short dialogue, he looked up and relayed the instructions of their more reasonable commander. “The enemy… and their ‘balloon’… have seized a tower in the center of the grasslands. We are to demolish the ridge and make our way through to face them.” Without waiting to field questions, he retreated into the vehicle. Moments later, the all encompassing tread parted along horizontal seams and each long metal plate was carried to the rear, where they overlapped so tightly that the spindly brackets meshed.

In the newly revealed turret at the vehicle’s top, The Astounding Relativologist already sat. His shoulders seemed less tense. Either he was happy to be busy, or the destruction to follow would be therapeutic. His uncharacteristic grin as he fired the weapon into the rock pointed to the latter.

The army made some appreciative sounds as the turret belted out invisible bursts of anti-gravity energy that blew chunks of rock from the ridge’s peak. It worked effectively at the top, but the going became more difficult as The Astounding Relativologist aimed lower. He had only cut an eighth of the way through the formation when Tortured Mau and her shadowy brethren arrived.

“Will I have to make my shrine here?” she asked in a smoky, mocking voice as she gracefully dismounted. Her staff ornaments chimed as if laughing by proxy, for her face didn’t seem capable of it.

Calico was the first to respond, and just as excitedly as usual. “Idea! Make the shadows cough up the tent supplies!” With an uncaring shrug, Mau turned and the furrows of torn earth birthed canvas packs into the air. Calico explained, or tried to, with, “It’s arts and crafts time!” Unfortunately, she would have to show them her idea.

*~*

In a short amount of time, the hares had finished their work. With the canvas pieces that normally roped together to form their base tent, then had instead made two large circles of the fabric. Then, all of the army’s eyeball scouts descended. The hares’ quick hands lashed ten eyeballs to the perimeter of each circle, their pupils staring down.

It was quite a sight when the two taught disks lifted into the air, drawing a pair of wide shadows over most of the army. “TAR’s minions! Please take your positions,” Calico called motherly.

The students moved to the foot of their personal vehicle as their professor continued to send ineffective pulses into the rock face. The canvas platforms hovered a short distance past the rise, and then they both turned to point their faces at it. In sporadic starts, the students fired their own gravity charges at the targets. The air rippled faintly, almost tracing the lines of energy that struck the material and bounced toward the rock. There was a perceptible gust of dusty wind as gravity in that region began to shift, and the rock before them groaned under the new physics. Every grain in that thin section wanted to fall outward, and the pulses from The Astounding Relativologists vindictive firing spree made that desire into a reality, gradually. It took some time and a few teasing cracks in the rock face before the earth finally gave up and spilled toward the east like a sore bursting.

Calico’s excitement must have been contagious, because the entire army cheered and surged through the wound. The students returned to their archaic machines and bounced over the uneven wreckage, while the main transport re-treaded itself and crunched along behind them.

The celebration at their first true victory peaked upon reaching the other side. There, they fell into silence at the sight of “the tall guy and his balloon” moving toward them with intent as unquestionable as a force of nature. One hare, the one sporting a shaved head and missing tail, screamed weakly, to which a student bite off, “Shut up, Binky.” Some of the other hares gave half-hearted smiles, but their spirits were mired as low as if they had already been stomped upon.

“It seems to me that we will be concluding this expedition soon,” The Astounding Relativologist said dourly, yet somehow relieved, as he emerged from the human’s moving workshop. A boxy, spearheaded contraption was hoisted upon his shoulder, the remains of his greatest invention. As he carried it into the midst of the army, he lectured habitually. “The Dimensional Membrane Thinner was pushed beyond its limit in our last location. I repaired it as much as I could, but it will not function at its peak.” He sounded distinctly ashamed and bitter. “It will only project a small field from its base, now.” With a breathy heave, he planted the tip in the earth. “And it will only charge to level one.” From his downcast gaze, it was clear that level one wouldn’t be very impressive. He looked up at Butterworth before he spoke again, this time as respectfully as bravado would allow. “That will take until nightfall. Can you hold the enemy back until then?”

Butterworth saluted with his spear and clasp shield to heart. “We shall, for our victory and the honor of our Queen, may she live eternal forthwit!” Every hare echoed him as they followed him to meet the approaching army. The students looked at their guns’ power levels, then each other, and the majority of them boarded their trucks. They passed their professor without making eye contact as they too went into battle, their first true battle.

Edgar moved alongside The Astounding Relativologist. Edgar was once more his vacant self, but he seemed as ready as he ever would be. The Astounding Relativologist barely held in an exasperated laugh.

Behind them, Tortured Mau began arranging the field of strewn stones into a ceremonial circle. Her midnight colored cats fanned out, encircling the spot that would be the army’s home base for this last ill-fated campaign.

[Bleater]

The wait hadn't been long. Within minutes of the airship and Behemoth departing, the dwarves had begun spilling over the hill south of the tower, heading northwest to follow. As they crested a second hill, they found the lone figure of William sitting in a recess between two lumps of soft, green earth. He looked directly at the advancing force, and stood firmly with his hands planted on his hips. Evanthor saw this, and halted in his tracks while his men marched on.

"This isn't right..." he said ominously.

No sooner than the words had left his lips, there was a soft clanging sound behind him. The last of his troops had just gone past, so he knew it wasn't his men, and he felt a heavy weight tied around his neck as he slowly turned to look back.

clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang

The square tower shields of the Wall Company dropped down and dug into the soft soil on the ridge just behind Lashgiver's men. They had laid in wait and slipped from the tower once the dwarves had passed, and now found themselves flanking the rogue force and forming a wall of steel shields to block retreat.

"Company HALT!" The dwarven captain cried out, as the men turned to look back at their leader; each of them finally noticed the surprise of the army sitting behind them as well. They raised their weapons and prepared themselves, staring intently at the Wall Company as they made a seamless row of steel.

"Evanthor Lashgiver!" the capran's voice rang out from just ahead of them, prompting s few looks his way while most eyes stayed eagerly locked on the force flanking them. The dwarven leader grimaced as he made his way to the front of the ranks, staring down at the lone goat with hateful eyes.

"You have committed treason against the nation of Alerar, and are guilty of conspiring to cause and inciting a mutiny." The goat snapped out angrily. The dwarf scoffed, sneering in his direction.

"And just what do you plan to do about it? You think this little ploy of yours is going to work? You can't afford the losses you would take to overcome me."

The goat narrowed his eyes, and whistled loudly. The middle of the wall parted, and several drow began pouring out, forming a row in front of their shielded brethren. This made the dwarves even more anxious, many of then rising on the balls of their feet, eager to charge.

"I beg to differ..." the goat said wryly. "I have no doubt that you are willing to go on a bloody suicide run against your own troops, that is why I wish to speak not to you, but your men."

Captain Lashgiver narrowed his eyes, quickly snapping his head to bark orders at his troops. "Listen to no word he says. Prepare to attack."

"Actually," William said musingly as he paced forward towards the men by himself. "I would disregard that order. While I am sure you are great fighters, rest assured that if I decide to recall the Behemoth over here, it would tear your entire ranks apart while the wall company prevents your retreat. Or if you want to attack outright... well, with most of you being Thoracis' men, I don't have to tell you the skill that the Veterans of Khu’Fein have. You are outnumbered and outmatched, which is why I want to make a proposal."

"Silence, you bastard goat!" Captain Lashgiver roared, pointing an accusing finger at William. "Do not listen to this foul creature, men! They are afraid of our men, and he's trying to sway you to save his own hide!"

William continued to march forward, now less than a hundred feet from the front ranks of the dwarves, holding his head high with confidence.

"If I was trying to save my own skin, I'd be sitting behind that wall of troops over there. But I'm not. Now, all of you have been betrayed by this man, this so-called Captain. I don't know what lies he has told you, but my men have already suffered from his treachery once. I implore you not to let yourselves suffer it as well. As many of you are from Thoracis' army, I feel it prudent to mention that Captain Lashgiver here was the one who issued the order to attack your men."

The dwarf barked out angrily, spitting as he spoke. "That is a lie! Kill this fool!"

But despite his words, the men hesitated, holding their weapons firmly btu unmoving as William continued to approach.

"Ask those among your own ranks, the men of the Shock Troop Company. We on the ground were all given explicit instructions not to harm your men; rather, we were intended to assist you before Captain Lashgiver turned into a vagabond and turned our men against you. Even as you were attacking, our ground troops held good to their word and never once raised a blade to you."

Captain Lashgiver was livid. He marched back and forth, staring at his men angrily as he continued to yell. "What are you waiting for? I said go over there and dispatch this menace! He's polluting you with lies to turn you away from the truth!"

Ignoring the dwarf's tirade, William continued, now only 40 feet from the armed enemy. "You men may not have known the truth before, but knowing it now, I trust that you will make the right decision. We still do not want to fight you. Captain Lashgiver is the only one we have a problem with, but if you choose to defend him, then you are unequivocally siding against your allies and your own men."

The dwarf had heard enough. He pushed through the men himself, making a bee-line for the goat. As he shouldered through the ranks, he drew one of his whips from his side. Raising it over his head, he pushed his men aside as the tip swirled round and round above him. He threw his arm forward in a wide arc, but suddenly felt resistance. Turning back, he looked incredulously at one of the shock troops, who had a firm hold on the end of the whip, preventing the captain from using it.

"There will be none of that today..." he said sternly, as the captain's face turned bright red. "The goat is right. Captain Lashgiver did give the order to attack, and Mr. Steinbock here, and Corporal Krybirr had instructed us not to attack Thoracis' men. Now, I don't know about you lads, but if I'm going to die today, I don't want it to be as a traitor and a criminal."

Captain Lashgiver sputtered with frustration as his maroon face almost seemed to steam with rage. "Silence you! Men, seize this traitor!"

As he gave the order, the dwarf stood still, staring a hole right through their commander. "No sir, there is only one of those among our ranks, though you tried to turn all of us into traitors with you. Men, seize Captain Lashgiver. He is to be taken into custody for the war crimes he has committed."

The captain scoffed, assured that they would never listen to such claims. But two arms encircling his own brought the grim reality crashing into him. The troops had known better, and didn't trust their commander to begin with. This revelation had given them the excuse they were looking for to escape from under the treacherous dwarf's command.

~~~~~~

Aboard the airship, Corporal Krybirr narrowed his eyes at the ridge as he watched rock and debris burst into the air. Several small forms began pouring out of the large rift, and he watched them intently.

"As we had thought men, those signs of movement to the west were the enemy, and they are advancing as we speak. I want everyone to prepare!"

He marched across the rich brown deck as the men scurried to ready their weapons. Walking to the helm, he stepped atop a small platform, just a few feet higher than the men as he voice rang out clearly.

"Begin taking us down. I want the First Strikers to ready an arrow volley. We're going to have to fire it on the descent. As soon as we land, I want the Swarm Company to disembark as quickly as possible and begin to engage the enemy."

The archers began taking places around the lip of the hull, each man nervously drawing an arrow from his quiver and setting it against the bow string. Behind them, the Swarm troops began moving into position on the deck, a dozen or so holding the gangplanks, ready to push them over the edges of the railing when the ship would land. Slowly, the sound of gears grinding came from deep inside the ship as the bulky vessel began slowly drifting downward towards the arriving mass of shapes rushing across the fields.

~~~~~~

As the men were binding Captain Lashgiver, one of the shock troops yelled out, pointing west towards the airship.

"Oh, no! It's too late, they've started their descent!"

William's ears perked up as he looked cautiously in the direction of the ship, then at the troop.

"Why is that bad, soldier?"

The troop who had defied Lashgiver stepped forward, his face white as a sheet. Wiping a hand across his mouth in horror, he looked with sorrow towards the goat.

"Sir, when Captain Lashgiver led us to your camp before you had awoken, your men drove us off. They thought that we were trying to steal the airship. The reality is, Captain Lashgiver took us there with orders to sabotage the airship."

Looking with alarm, William looked at the dwarves with his eyes wide.

"What do you mean... 'sabotage'?"

As he looked over to Captain Lashgiver, he found the captured criminal had a broad, sinister grin wrapped around his face.

[Twisted Infinitum]

I don’t appreciate the limited vision, Possum grumbled as he strained his beady eyes at the screens. Every eyeball had been tied to the canvas umbrellas that waited over the emergency camp, so each image was an identical long range view of rolling hills and the occasional shadowy bump as their troops traveled into the distance. Beyond, the floating ship hung ominously in the air and the giant, Calico’s ‘tall guy’, stood farther out, solemn as a totem splashed with the evening sun’s light. Possum’s eyes darted toward Edgar’s bubble, hoping for a better view of the battle, but only found a close analysis of the ridge’s rubble.

Calico, oblivious as always, danced about near Edgar’s bubble. Between pirouettes, she oozed self-congratulation. Wasn’t that great, Possy-poo? I bet you thought you had all the fancy smarty-pants plans, but I can be sciencerific, too!

Possum’s hand found his face, and all that escaped beyond it was a low rumble of complaint. You’re just going to leave them to their own devices? he asked accusingly.

Calico froze and stared at him with her head cocked so far to the side it was good she didn’t really have neck bones. That’s bad? The dance continued, a slower affair. You worry too much, honey. They’re very smart bunnies and honor students. They’ll be just fine.

*~*

“We’re doomed!” cried Binky. As predictable as the tides, he had gravitated toward the safest area in the army; directly behind Butterworth.

“An’ here I thought a spot of torture would have toughened your hide, son,” the sergeant said jovially as he marched rigidly at the center of the hares’ wide formation. “I’d say we’re better off than I had hoped. That tall fellow is still a stretch off, and that there balloon seems to be coming down. Jolly good setting, if I say so.” Binky choked on another whimper, then jumped as Butterworth erupted. “One of you chillins, let’s have a chat!”

In the truck directly behind his spot in the formation, awkward glances were exchanged before an uncertain youth was dumped from the bed and forced to run into the rabbit ranks. “Yes… sir?” the boy asked without taking his eyes from the descending airship.

Butterworth clapped a thick arm around the boy’s shoulders and spoke loudly while tugging him along in the speedy march of a hare. “Them blokes in the balloon are probably going to drop something on our heads, aye?” The student just nodded dumbly. “Well then,” Butterworth continued even louder, “How about you chillins come up with something to stop that?” He patted the youth on the shoulder, then released him to think on it as the hares hopped around him.

After a moment, his head perked up and he jogged back to the truck. “Drive in front and aim for the hull,” he ordered into his helmet microphone. Uncertain silence answered him until a sporadic response, equivalent to a collective “Uh… okay”, crackled through his earpiece. The trucks began diverting and charging around the hare formation, and he snagged a ride on the last one before it did the same.

When the hares realized what was happening, they let out a supportive cheer and geared up to full throttle bounding. The trucks coughed and sputtered past them, then closed at their fore. Guns were raised, and translucent beams crackled upward like heat distortion into the forward underbelly of the craft. The effects were unnoticeable until the arrows flew from the deck and some twisted a few degrees back toward it. Under the falling cloud, the two lines of trucks met before the hares and weaved frantically between each other until they burst out the other side. The drivers heaved unanimous sighs of relief while the passengers still held their own as arrows pinged off their helmets like wrathful hail. For the first time in their lives, the students saw the value in having domed helmets as wide as their shoulders.

The hares, in that moment, were wishing for helmets too. Many arrows had gone untouched by the gravitational shift, and the hares could do nothing but lift their shields high and charge through the rain. Below the rabble of metal on metal, many let out squawks of pain as they clung to perforated shoulders and forearms, and the crossbowhares were forced to hang back when the foremost of them fell.

The entire group stalled for a second as the wounded were jostled toward the rear of the formation with many a supportive clap to the shoulder, some of which made the wounds worse. Soon, their ranks were reoriented with the wounded among the crossbowhares. The spearhares let out a valiant, if squeaky, cry and bounded forward to meet the forces that would undoubtedly come from the ship upon landing, and the crossbow hares sent a long, inaccurate volley of two hundred bolts to pepper the deck.

“One foot in, one foot out!” Butterworth ordered above the din. Their tactic would be to lead off with a single thrust, then hop backward as the next line thrust between them and, in such a manner, perform a rolling, stabbing retreat while the crossbows reloaded behind them.

[Bleater]

The archers of the First Strike Division had been waiting on the edge, and finally closed on firing range.

"Pilot, begin levelling off to prepare for landing!" Captain Krybirr called out behind him, as a deckhand scurried away to follow the orders. "Archers! Ready your shot! Ready.... Aim...Fi-"

The ship bucked upward suddenly under the gravitational shift, as the volley of arrows sprang out, many of the shots taking their owners by surprise as their grips on the nocks were knocked loose from the impact.

"Easy, man!" Krybirr yelled out behind him, looking angrily towards the bridge. "No need to pull up that suddenly!"

One of the deckhands rushed over, his face pouring sweat as he heaved heavy breaths. He came to a halt in front of the drow officer, leaning forward to brace his hands on his thighs as he panted.

"Sir, that wasn't us. It was some enemy attack. And more to the point, commander, we can't pull up."

"What?!?" Shalacius shouted out with surprise.

"Sir, someone's tampered with the ship. The lift stabilizers snapped and the aelerons locked in place when we began our descent. Quite frankly sir, someone's made it so that once we began our dive, we can't stop, and can't pull out of it."

Corporal Krybirr's eyes narrowed as a single word slipped from his lips.

"Lashgiver..."

Snapping to attention, he looked over the railing quickly at the ground rising below to meet them, scattered with enemy forces rushing about.

"How long until impact?" He said grimly, his voice cracking a bit.

"Less than a minute at this speed, sir."

While he should have been panicked, Corporal Krybirr had an air of calm about him, seeming to embrace his destiny immediately.

"Then hurry to the controls and steer the ship towards the bulk of their men as best as you can."

Rushing to the very tip of the helm as quickly as he could sprint, the Corproal sprang up to the block extending on the front of the ship and grabbed a support line to steady himself.

"All hands! Brace for impact! The ship is going do-"

His final order was cut short as crossbolt bolts rained upward in an arc from in front of the ship, ripping through the drow commander and pelting the deck and several of the men on it.

The Corporal fell forward, dead before his hit the maple planks of the deck. His only regret being that his men were about to join him.

~~~~~

William watched with horror at the last seconds before a loud crashing sound rang out in the distance, and a plume of dust and earth flung into the air where the airship had struck. Some of the men around him gasped with shock, while others had tears of anger in their eyes. William's eyes watered too, but he gritted his teeth to hide that it was from the sudden rush of loss he felt flood his belly as he knew he had just seen Corporal Krybirr for the last time. Turning with a scowl, he met the grinning face of Evanthor Lashgiver, and marched over to him, enraged.

"You son of a bitch!" He growled through his locked teeth, throwing his head forward and slamming his horned forehead against the dwarf's face. Blood burst from his nose, spraying suddenly to the ground as the men holding the dwarven traitor gripped him harder, several other men rushing to grab William and pull him away.

"Sir, don't!" One of the men pleaded with him "He'll get what's coming to him when we return to Alerar."

Shaking his head, William drew a deep breath in, which only made his chest burn and his eyes water more. He looked back to the cloud of debris hanging in the air, and gazed near it to the Behemoth; the massive weapon which was at a standstill now. Though anger consumed him, he knew there was no time to waste.

"All forces, move out now! We have to get out to the site before the enemy can recover. We can only hope that some of them were taken out in the crash as well, but even if they weren't, they will be in disarray after that. Yarborough Cavalry, Assault Company! Begin a full charge! Get out there and attack as soon as possible!"

Willim stomped around the men as everyone began getting ready to move out, the cavalrymen whipping the back of their horses to spur them into a full gallop, the hooves tearing across the ground like rolling thunder as they departed. William was continuing to bark orders with renewed vigor, sounding like a seasoned general.

"All ground forces, move out double-time. We cannot afford to waste one minute. Move, move, move!"

He looked to the Shock Trooper who had stood up to Lashgiver, locking eyes with the muscled dwarf a few feet away as men hurried around them like a swarm of bees coming out of a fallen hive.

"Make sure you lads keep moving. We have to strike quickly. I'm going to go ahead and alert the Behemoth company to go to full attack."

The dwarf nodded, and William turned quickly, dropping to all fours and racing off after the disappearing cavalrymen. The dwarf looked around to the men, drawing in a deep breath and roaring out.

"Alright, boys! You heard Mr. Steinbock! Move out!"

William's mind raced even faster then his legs, as a slow burn started to rise in them. It would be at least five minutes before the cavalry could get there, and over twice as long for the other men. Somewhere between the two, he would be able to reach the Behemoth Company. He only hoped that was enough time to get there before the enemy regrouped, if they had even been disrupted at all.