Eastern Mountains (Location B)

[Max Dirks]

The Eastern Mountains are well protected from the east, as travel is nigh impossible over the mountain tops. A direct assault from the north is possible, and troops uninhibited by the water will have no problem attacking from the west. The icy caves offer protection to those who seek to hide in them.

This is Saxon's starting location.

The tournament will begin when 6 threads have been posted in this subforum. Good Luck!

[Saxon]

“Do we have any idea what we're dealing with here?", Saxon said simply as he pointed to the better half of the map drawn out for him. Clutching onto Syvriak to hold his balance, the eldritch looked up to two thin, eccentrically dressed men and repeated slowly," Do you know what we're dealing with, Boris?".

Pulling the map further over on their side, the eldest of the Craz brothers shrugged stoically and sighed," No. The officials running the Gisela barred us from doing any preemptive reconnaissance before the armies arrived at their locations," there was a brief pause before he pointed pungently to a spot that could only be described as rocky mountains," But, we do know that this is where we'll be positioned for this round of the tournament. Look at it, we're protected from the entire eastern side, and word has it that there is an entire cavern system towards the apex of the mountain that we could hide the bulk of our army in.".

The eldritch twitched at Boris' constant referrals to his army being referred to as 'ours' by the renowned Craz brothers, but he was suspicious from the start that the two guerilla fighters had just recently learned tradespeak from their heavy, Salvarian dialects. Clutching Syvriak a little more tightly, the weird nervously scratched a familiar tuft of hair before speaking with a touch of ire in his voice," So we have no way of knowing who we're dealing with, and better yet we haven't even left yet on the reassurance that you might be able to find a way to hit one of our opponents hard enough that it would knock them off balance," watching the two brothers open their mouths to protest, Saxon raised a hand to silence them and rubbed the bridge of his nose calmly before looking up at the pair again," Never mind. I have an appointment to keep and I suppose the only thing good that has come out of this is that the enemy knows about as much as we do.".

Pulling at the corners of the map, the weird folded the miniature replica of the battlefield and stuffed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, his eyes dark with circles as the thing that loomed in his near future had almost arrived. It had been like someone had held a hot, iron-cast pan over the eldritch's head and refused to go away, it had been years since he had dealt with this many people and it was beginning to get to him.

Watching the two Craz brothers begin to bicker in their own native tongue, he sighed and turned only to jump at the presence of a familiar face staring stoically at him," Shit!," Saxon yelped as he placed a hand over his heart and tried to regain his breath muttering," Morris, one of these days your going to give me a fucking coronary.".

A tall ebony man dressed in a gray, pin-striped suit startlingly similar to the one the eldritch had on himself stood and stared at him stoically before placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly and arched an eyebrow," We need to get this show on the road, Saxon. My client isn't paying a king's fortune to watch you stand idle with your thumb up your ass.".

Hearing the two Craz brothers suddenly stop at the backhanded comment, the weird brushed the man's arm away and folded his arms as he leaned against the table," We'll leave once that psychic of yours is read to transport us, liar," he said with a twinge of arrogance.

" Lawyer," Morris corrected with a glower as he ignored the two chuckling guerilla fighters," And he's having trouble getting used to the fact that he'll be passing an entire ogre horde through the circuitry of his brain. Cut him some slack."

" Oh, I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that your boys are awfully sensitive about that sort of thing," Saxon smiled while he balanced Syvriak against the table and grabbed a mug full of a black chalky substance still piping hot from the kettle. Blowing the smoke away and sipping the acrid substance carefully, the eldritch stared ahead before tearing his gaze to Morris' watchful eyes," Lets get one thing straight. I decided to do this because of what you presented me with when we first met. That hasn't changed. I have used a better part of my resources and favors to get myself an army of this nature. So if your 'client' wants me to fight for him, he had better employ some people with a little more backbone.".

The two glared at each other before Morris opened his mouth only to hear a hoarse, dry voice scream," We haven't even left yet?!". Harsh footsteps thumped against the stony ground until the doors burst open to reveal an aged Fallienite clad in black leather, shaking with rage.

Patting the lawyer on the shoulder, Saxon leaned forward, grabbed his coiling staff and muttered," You can handle this," and walked away from the startled attorney and passed the angry raider without another word. The eldritch was late, and he was already fed up with trying to run the Gisela, and the only thing keeping the weird in this horse race was a meeting with the devil himself.

~*~

Pulling off his pin-striped jacket and hanging it up on the tip of Syvriak who leaned against the wall, while he undid the button of his soft orange dress shirt, Saxon gazed at the big, pointed contraption resting on a table beside a raised chair in the center of the isolated room. Walking over and nodding to the man possessing thick-bottled glasses, the eldritch sighed," Lets get this over with," as he sat down into the chair and propped up either arm upon the rests.

The balding technician pushed the glasses further up upon the bridge of his nose and said hesitantly," Are you sure about this, Mr. Saxon? There is no going back from this.".

The weird didn't even turn as he responded, gripping either end of his chair," Don't you think I know that? But, I cannot run this army with being this damn shy in front of so many people," pausing to take a breath he continued on," Now put the implant in my head and be done with it!".

Moving over to the sink, the scientist turned on the faucet and washed his hands carefully as he considered his client," Mr. Saxon, this device isn't going to cure your mental illness, that social disorder is for you to fix. The only thing its going to do is distract you from the presence of this many people with sporadic impulses of euphoria.". Hearing the subtle scrapes of a razor, the technician turned to see his assistant already shaving the base of the weird's neck.

" How will being happy get me through this mess?", Saxon said suspiciously.

" Well..", the scientist began as he started drifting off into a technical explanation that the eldritch barely understood with the exception of," .. And the pain would be excruciating otherwise.".

"Great.. Just great," the weird sighed.

Stepping forward as his assistant finished, the technician smiled," Don't worry, Saxon, Morris Locke's client is an old friend of mine and I wouldn't dare hurt one of his prized employees. You're in safe hands.". But it fell upon deaf ears as the eldritch had already passed out from exhaustion, and as a syringe containing a massive dose of morphine was shoved into his arm the wavy voice of the technician could be heard saying," Alright then, lets get this done with. You have to be up and walking in four hours.". All that was left as the weird drifted into a painless slumber was the grinding gnaw of a drill poking a hole into his head and the subtle thought of what price Saxon was going to have to pay for this temporary gift.

~*~

Sitting in a chair similar to what the eldritch had been in only hours ago, a man dressed in rags even he seemed unfit for spoke quietly with Morris as two handlers placed shackles upon the psychic's limbs. Gathered around the pair was Saxon’s military muscle for the round. Gazing up into the fierce, battle-scarred faces of the Khazban to the quiet eyes of a female Di'Aht monk slavering with salivia as she stared at T.A.U.R.U.S and Fred. Shaking his head, the weird tried to ignore the alien feeling of metal inside his head as a familiar creature dressed in a trench coat and its head cloaked from view with a special cloth approached him," Sssaxon.".

" Hello, Hmiig," the eldritch said with a twinge of artifical pleasantry. Pulling at the end of his beard, he considered the mutant carefully before the sound of several more members of his army entering the warehouse caught his attention.

" Ssaxon. I will be sssitting thisss one out," the mutant said as fiery, red orbs considered the weird carefully from under his hood.

" Any particular reason?", Saxon said as he watched a particular feisty, red-haired guerilla fighter help push a cart containing several big, rock-hued eggs. But the mutant was already gone before the eldritch had gotten his answer, shrugging he moved forward and clapped his hands," Alright gentlemen, lets get this show on the road!".

Morris looked up at the weird and considered him carefully before nodding to the handlers who began to pass out small devices that the party began to hook up to the side of their temples. Walking over to meet the eldritch, the lawyer bellowed," Everybody, if you hadn't noticed yet, you're going to be traveling to the island of Gisela in a radically different way then you’re used to. These devices you're putting on your head are to ensure you're safely kept out of harm's way during this procedure. I recommend that all of you keep in mind that this form of travel is temporary until we can come up with something better!", Standing with hands in either pocket the lawyer stared directly into the eldritch's eyes and continued," So don't get used to it!".

A chortle of hesitant murmurs filled the room as the army stubbornly obeyed the command. Making his way past the foot of a rather plump Jotun, the raider Viktor Al-Haat approached the pair with a small team of Qaltha tagging behind him," You better pray this works.".

Saxon smiled gently and nodded," It will, Priest.".

As the handlers finished, the lawyer turned to the psychic and nodded, who began to hum methodically. Pushing the device onto his right temple, Saxon watched Viktor do the same," The only thing I don't understand is why exactly he is in shackles. Is he a danger to us?".

Without turning the lawyer shook his head slowly," No, Saxon. That is to protect him from the rest of you. Think of it as putting a muz-".

But the eldritch never heard the rest of Morris' explanation as the sharp jerk of the psychic's violent twitch caught his attention. The bearded man, gaunt with hunger began to shake violently as the low, droning hum grew into a baritone. Blood trickled down his nose and onto his lips as his arms cracked violently as he was jerked sideways, only to be caught narrowly by the shackles. The whites of the psychic's eyes began to give a luminous glow as the raised bump upon his forehead trickled with brackish, sticky blood revealing the same beautiful, startling azure light.

Gasps and roars of fright were ignored by the psychic as his mouth gave out a loud crunch as he snapped his mouth piece in two. Slowly the first row consisting of the bulk of the Khazban horde blurred and shifted out of sight in a white flash. Startled, a Jotun howled, but it was too late. Like a snowball effect more rows disappeared as the white flashes grew more and more frequent. Some men collapsed into seizures while others attempted to take the device off, but it was no use. Standing with Viktor by his side, Saxon was about to say something when his vision began to tunnel and his entire being rippled until he felt lighter then air. Transfixed upon the light pouring forth from the psychic's head, Saxon felt Viktor disappear right along side him. It was then, and for the first time in his life, that the eldritch did not feel alone.

Saxon Has Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
Viktor Al-Haat Has Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
Fred Calloway Has Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
1 T.A.U.R.U.S. Has Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
117 Di'Aht Monks Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
34 'Ironside' Sharpshooters Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
15 Uldahn Druids Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
10 Jotun Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
150 Khazban Warriors Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
60 Khazban Shaman Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
60 Qaltha Servitors Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
17 Manuka Slavers Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
12 Ja'Mtuli Hatchlings Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
50 Syvothian Tribesmen Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
36 Zamorian She-Wolves Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
50 Salvarian Berserkers Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
53 Craz Guerilla Fighters Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
70 Witch-Hunters Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
39 Vezebi Combat Medics Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
1 Ship Has Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
3 Trebutchets Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
10 Khazban War Plows Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
7 Scorpions Have Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
30 Bolts Have been Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
15 Cannonballs Have been Moved To The Eastern Mountains.
1 1/2 Boxes of Dynamite Have been Moved To The Eastern Mountains

-AND-

3 Di'Aht Monks KIA.
1 Ironside Sharpshooter KIA.
2 Craz Guerilla Fighters KIA.
1 Vezebi Combat Medic KIA. .

[RumpleGrumblePuss]

One Manda and one Shadow have entered the Eastern Mountains from Dandelion Forest (location E). Intentions are to scout out the area and, if possible, to locate possible enemy armies and judged if an alliance is possible.

[Saxon]

Cause and effect, someone thought within the recesses of Saxon's mind. Time rippled like the proverbial stone dropped into a pond. Thoughts pooled and mixed as they coalesced into singularity, and it had been so confusing that the weird had forgotten everything, even his name. It seemed like an eternity before the eldritch's vision began to forget the white haze that had blinded him and blurred into utter darkness. Feeling the sharp chill from the mountain air, the weird shook as he tried to see his hand in front of his face, but it was to no avail. Suddenly the sharp chill seemed to cease as if walls had been constructed around him, choosing not to panic, Saxon plucked Amalarj from his slithering staff and pushed it onto what he thought was his brow.

As the weird's vision adjusted to a soft afternoon, viscous light, he nearly jumped at the sight of all the people gathered around him still in a daze. Snow flakes covered the eldritch's shoulders as the mountains howled with rage at their new guests. Folding his arms the eldritch looked about overhead to see the frigid tundra lead into a dark, damp cave. Unaware who was standing next to him, Saxon didn't even see the spark before a familiar deep, harrowed voice muttered," Damn, its cold!".

The eldritch smiled and shook his head," Ain't like the burning sands your used to, eh Viktor?". Pulling his coat tighter around him, he moved about in the snow that appeared to be up to his shins.

Rubbing his hands together and breathing into them, Viktor glared at his companion and muttered something in his native language before turning his attention back to the weird," May the eyes of S-S-Suravani look upon you in judgment, S-S-Saxon," the raider hissed.

As more and more of the weird's military became aware of their current environment, there was a spark of hysteria. People and beasts alike began to panic as they learned again what it was like to see, and for some, these conditions could prove to be deadly. The raider and eldritch alike watched as small, tribal creatures and insects alike instinctively rushed for the caverns.

Peering over the ridge to see the winding, narrow paths to the forests below, Saxon grinned," We could hold an entire army off indefinitely if we managed to play our cards right.".

Viktor stood beside him, blazing torch in hand, and for a moment pondered the possibility," We'll give it a go if we need to pose a retreat from those bastards," Not waiting for his friend to respond, the raider turned away and gathered the few sane compatriots of his military and began to bark orders, which were hesitantly carried out.

Taking one last look over the landscape below, Saxon smiled," This'll be easier then I thought.". Turning sharp towards the dark caverns, the weird moved quickly inside seeking to warm his frigid limbs.

~*~

Pushing a cigarette in his mouth, Fred dragged a match across the sole of his boot and lit it carefully. Shaking the match and throwing it away, the mechanic looked at the pair of sharpshooters and a trio of Craz rebels before him," Alright, we're going to be moving quickly, and since we need the forest under our control, Viktor has issued an order to begin trapping immediately. You'll fix your traps around the main parts of the forest and make note of them upon our maps once you've returned.".

turning to the sharpshooters Fred stared at them carefully," Once the Craz have returned and briefed on the locations of the traps, make your way to the forests and set up sniping points. You may be low in number, but you can do a lot of damage given the chance."

As he looked about with the poor lighting in the cavern, the mechanic took a long drag of his ciggerate before blowing a puff of smoke into the air. Pulling a small canteen of whiskey from his overalls he stopped," One last thing. Craz, you're to be out of sight at all times. If you see the enemy, move else where. When the sharpshooters have arrived you can begin using your 'guerilla warfare' until Plan B has been issued. Do us proud.".

~*~

Standing before a group of rust coloured insects akin to beetles, Saxon ignored the sudden spike in heat as the Khazban razed the snow outside the cavern to make way for a camp. Pulling at the map in his pocket, he kneeled before them and set it on the ground, pointing as he spoke quietly to the insect slaves," The three of you will be supervising the espionage in these areas. Qid, take your group to the valley north of here, we suspect it'd be an ideal place to put a headquarters with its natural defense. Kazikis, you move to the wetlands, and Vyek, you're going to have the toughest mission of all. We need to know if the western bank and the forest have a bridge connecting the two. If it does, we need to burn it."

The insects nodded and clacked their mandibles accordingly. Standing up the eldritch stuffed the map back in his pocket and nodded to them," These assignments are to be carried out immediately, and we cannot afford to stay idle. If you find the enemy, take note of what we're dealing with and how many of them there are. Break off servitors to stick with them if you must. It is vital that we know exactly what they are doing."

~*~

5 Qaltha servitors and 1 Manuka Slaver moved to the Wetlands.
5 Qaltha servitors moved and 1 Manuka Slaver to the Northern Valley.
5 Qaltha servitors moved and 1 Manuka Slaver to the Wayward Bridge.
40 Craz Guerilla Fighters moved to the Dandelion Forest.

[RumpleGrumblePuss]

A lone Manda stood shivering, hunkered behind a bush. Moments before the frozen valley before her had been empty. Now, hundreds of troops filled the valley. Almost as one they turned and fled towards the cave opening.

“I wish I could go with them.” She muttered, her teeth chattering from the cold. Shaking her head she turned around and began the long hike back to base camp. Something caught at her foot, stopping her. Looking down she spotted the jelly like black tendril that was wrapped around her ankle.

“Nuh huh mate, did you see that army? There aint no way we’d get a treaty with them. So let go, I’ve got a long ways to walk. ‘Sides, I know you don’t like the light it burns your oh so delicate gooeyness.” The tentacle tightened at her mocking before letting go and sinking back into the ground. Grinning through her chattering teeth at the ‘victory’ she took up a fast walk to warm herself and to pass the miles quicker. Several hours later, tired, foot sore and only a few miles closer to camp the Manda stopped and sat on the ground cursing. Vaguely she wished for a bottle of tequila. A smile crossed her face at the thought. That would fix all of my woes.

“I knew I should have not let you carry me. In the dark you ooze a hell of a lot faster than I can walk. Just how far from camp are we?” The Manda squeaked in surprise as her companion suddenly began coming up from the ground below her. A moment later the only sign of that a Manda had been there saw a slight scuffling in the dirt.

Enveloped in the Shadow and traveling slowly below the ground Manda wondered just what in the hell she had gotten herself into. She also resolved to not volunteer herself for any more missions.


The lone Manda and Shadow move to Dandelion forest.

[Saxon]

Gray, wisping smoke billowed from fixed torches dotting around the new base camp entrenched near the entrance of the caverns. Men, women, and beast alike moved in a strange harmony as they raised tents made of foreign skins and sparked embers into roaring flames in order to protect from the gusts of chilled winds from the mountain's frosted breath. Snake-like creatures sat within dens quickly pieced together by lumps of shale and brought various weapons across whet stones between their feet, the familiar grind all too satisfying. Across the plateau a company of monks standing clad in cloth far too light for the weather snapped their legs and threw punches at invisible enemies, their ritualized grunts and monotonous exercise almost hypnotizing.

Standing with its back to the encampment and sandaled feet placed firmly upon the newly scorched ground, an ogre clad in furs and thick, rancid leather sheared from the flesh of various beasts stood pensively. Far taller then most of his brethren and weighing far more then even a Jotun expected, Gukalaz was one of the very few able to control the Khazban through a wave of slaughter and unrelenting cruelty. Despite the savage politics of his kind, the chieftain lived and died by instinct, and as his one good eye surveyed the glimmer of activity within a stone throw of the forested lands, Gukalaz felt the burning desire for bloodshed course through his veins.

Like a wolf that has had its first taste of human flesh, the ogre wanted nothing more to lead his band into war torn lands and punish his enemies with savage magicks and crude weapons bent on spilling their blood. The behemoth licked his dry, cracked lips in hunger and his mind began to drift upon battles of ages past when the familiar stagger of a hunchbacked mystic brought his delusions of grandeur to a screeching halt. Placing his thumb within his thick, blackened iron girdle, he stared down upon the withered, aged face of his advisor," Tha'shi Amor, Old one. What brings you from the warmth of the caverns and into the cold reaches of my company?", the chieftain chided.

Taken aback by the insult, the old mystic tapped his knotted staff and wheezed with mocked laughter," Surely you jest, m'lord! No ogre bearing the Khazban name would dare to cower within the bowels of this mountain," Following the gaze of his master, the shaman trailed off as he saw the battle rage below and whispered," Blasphemous fools! To fight without your presence m'lord is to spit into the very face of Haz-Ahknar, hallowed be his name.".

The chieftain rested his hand upon the pommel of his sword and grunted before he turned his attention back to his advisor," Relax, Mhakthus, if I wanted your head as atonement for this insult I would've taken it before you had drawn your next breath," sensing the uneasy shuffle of his shaman's feet, the ogre-king continued," It is time to make amends of the situation. Assemble your bloodspeakers in prayer and ready our warriors. Tell them that within a day's reach from here there will be blood to spill, and that not one of them is to come back without bearing the fruit of their labor.".

" How many heads, m'lord?", The shaman asked expectantly.

" Three per warrior shall do. Those trophies shall be tethered to their belts should they make it back alive," Gukalaz answered wistfully.

Mhakthus nodded and wished with fervor that his crippled nature hadn't prevented him from obtaining such a great honor. Turning on a silver the advisor began to quickly stagger away to carry out his orders, lest' he desired to lose his head from betwixt his shoulders. While on the other hand, the chieftain of the Khazban rubbed his eye covered with a permanent milky-white glaze and watched the battle rage on. The calming sensation of his delusions began to take hold when a terrifying howl left the cavernous mouth and left the rest of the encampment in a tizzy as to whose doom it spelled.

~*~

Saxon's chest heaved as he watched a trio of ogres struggled to keep the makeshift gates closed as something howled and splintered the thick, oaken wood with ease. Standing side by side with Viktor, the eldritch rubbed his eyes and tried to control his temper as he searched for his words carefully," Is the room sealed?".

The fiery eyes from one of the warriors glanced back at the weird before he placed his shoulder upon the strongest part of the gate and pushed," Grr.. urgh.. Yes sir. The four exits have been barred with steel doors and deadbolts, this is the only one that hasn't been repaired yet.. Argh!". A taloned claw grazed the ogre's shoulder as it ripped through the gate with a crash.

Taking a step forward Saxon's eyes darted from one another and whispered," How long will this hold until Fred and his repair team get here?!".

Not long enough, he thought fretfully as Viktor turned his eyes away and said nothing, the eldritch already knowing the answer the moment the question left his lips. Hearing the heavy footsteps of reinforcements just around the corner, the weird felt his mind race for an answer as the problem at hand thrived with life and was determined to break free from its prison.

" Who hatched them? When?!", Saxon said quickly, his azure eyes fixated upon the cracks splintering through the center of the gates. Ogres bearing thick plates of solid steel deemed doors rushed past the eldritch and the raider and began to help their cohorts repair the doors as something sinister prodded and pushed within.

Viktor's calm brown eyes betrayed his frightened face as he felt his pride deserting him, searching for the words he whispered," I don't know who snatched the horn, Saxon, but we heard it at least twenty minutes ago.. These hatchlings of yours, how much damage can they do?".

Suddenly a claw busted out of the exposed wood and sliced through the burly arm of one of the makeshift carpenters like butter, the ogre fell to the ground screaming as the arm flopped to the ground twitching with life. Glaring at the shocked raider, the eldritch growled," That a good enough answer?!".

The sound of roaring pistons and grinding gears caught their ears as the rush of heat caught the pair in full before they were knocked aside, the war machine called T.A.U.R.U.S. taking up the fallen ogre's post. Running in his wake, Fred barely tipped his cap before he rushed headlong into danger, carrying a red toolbox bearing the bolts needed to secure the door.

Sitting in a makeshift heap, the eldritch eyed the raider with smouldering hatred as he tore his gaze from the work of the mechanic. Grabbing a hold of Syvriak he slowly pulled himself to his feet," I hold you responsible for this. We cannot let these things outside without an entourage, and should they escape the isle and be allowed to breed?! All Hell would break loose!".

Viktor stood and spat on the ground as he pointed to the gates," That thieving bitch lifted the horn from me when I wasn't looking! How could I be held accountable for something like that!".

Saxon blinked as he refused to believe what he just heard, placing Amalarj back on his scalp, the weird bristled with rage," You sonuva bitch! You could bring Althanas to its knees and still you refuse to be accountable for your own actions!".

" Guys..", Fred interrupted as he tried to push a bolt into one of the couplings of the door.

Ignoring him, Viktor to a step forward and folded his arms, his eyes burning with rage," You insult me, Saxon! Why am I to blame for a woman's tricks?! This is just like you to pin the faults of another on me!".

Stepping closer the eldritch tried to contain the burning desire to re-arrange parts of the raider's face with his bare hands and began to make a retort when he was interrupted by Fred once more," GUYS!".

" What?!", They both roared simultaneously in frustration, their heads cocked to one side as they watched the mechanic struggle to maintain his balance on an ogre's shoulders.

" I'd hate to interrupt yer little tiff, but a hand here would be nice, y'know!", the mechanic growled in frustration as he wrestled a bolt into place, turning to see them standing there puzzled he roared," Well?! Hop to it!".

The pair rushed side by side to the gates when a gleaming, serpentine eye glimmered through one of the holes of the gate and several claws punched through the wood, riddling it with holes like Swiss cheese. The strain almost too great, the mechanic struggled with the last bolt as the T.A.U.R.U.S.'s engine hissed with smog, holding the iron plates in place if only barely. Shoving a bolt the size of a human head inside the gate, a pair of ogres grabbed the large, steel deadbolt and pushed it in place, the clamor upon the gates coming to a steady end.

Falling back in a rush of sweat, Fred looked to the others and wiped his brow with his kerchief," Holy Hell, what a rush. Well boys, looks like those things ain't gettin' out any time soon.".

Saxon and Viktor grinned at each other as they heard the futile thumps of hungry hatchlings upon the steel door, the ogres gathering their wounded brother and his arm and dragged him towards the entrance where the medics were stationed. As calm returned to their veins, the mechanic, raider, and eldritch looked to the T.A.U.R.U.S. who stood sentry at the gate, the Ja'Mtuli trapped within the caverns until their aid was needed once more.

~*~

Passing out special canisters to a group of sharpshooters, Chulz wiped the sweat from her brow as she tried to regain her composure," Maps are in here, marks all the spots in the forest where the traps are and even where some ideal sniping spots would be. Don't open those things in direct sunlight, though, we coated the paper with a special dye that goes up in flames in light. Makes sure the enemy cannot get their hands on it. But anyway, Good luck, and happy hunting.".

Turning on her heel and walking past her fighters towards the tents where she would go to pass out the last of the maps to the various platoons. After that, the Craz leader intended to leave the control of her rebel fighters within the capable hands of her new lover, and had hoped the raider could control the fiery band while she took a well deserved footbath.

~*~

30 Ironside Sharpshooters have moved to Dandelion Forest.
130 Khazban Warriors have moved to Dandelion Forest.
50 Khazban Shaman have moved to Dandelion Forest.
50 Salvarian Berserkers have moved to Dandelion Forest.
20 Zamorian She-Wolves have moved to Dandelion Forest.
15 Vezebi Combat Medics have moved to Dandelion Forest.
2 Khazban War Plows have moved to Dandelion Forest.
20 Syvothian Tribesmen have moved to Dandelion Forest.
20 Craz Guerilla Fighters have moved to Dandelion Forest.
Viktor "Priest" Al-Haat has moved to Dandelion Forest.
40 Witch-Hunters have moved to Dandelion Forest.
2 Jotun have moved to Dandelion Forest.
4 Uldahn Druids have moved to Dandelion Forest.
4 Manuka Slavers have moved to Dandelion Forest.
20 Qaltha Servitors have moved to Dandelion Forest.