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Travis Touchdown -> RE: =AQ= Terrible Twelve War 2011 Stories and Poetry (8/25/2011 16:00:22)
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Camping Out
Death's Kid stirred as the sun warmed his cheek. He had felt the tremors nearly a week ago, and he had set up camp near the predicted battlefield. Something big was coming, that much was certain, though he was unable to tell exactly how big it was. He yawned as he climbed out of his sleeping bag. Somehow, he knew today was the day.
He closed his eyes as he crawled out of his tent, trying to bring the psychic tremors forth again. With each passing day they had grown slightly more clear. He had been able to make out the Seekrat from the very beginning, but recent visions had shown Doc Sawbones, Strageth, and Metalface-- all old foes that he had beaten cleanly. To see that they had returned was a surprise. Yet, he knew there was more to come. At least 8 other villains had appeared in his dreams, yet he was, as of yet, unable to make them out. He shrugged. He would know soon enough.
As the sun went behind a small cloud, he began sorting through his equipment. He had a feeling that much of it would see use before the battle was over. His weapons had all been sharpened and polished the night prior, and his armour and shields glistened when the sun had worked its way out from behind the cloud. He was ready for just about anything... and so were many of Lore's Adventurers and Guardians. Before he had left to set up camp, Yulgar's Inn was abuzz with talk of war and how peaceful the recent few weeks had been. People were getting antsy. They needed a reason to fight-- and they would soon have their wish granted.
He paused as the tremors overtook him again. He could sense that they would not have long to repel the attackers. Exactly how much time they had was uncertain, but he guessed they would have less than a week. Would it be enough? He shrugged again. The last time BattleOn's heroes had faced a threat of this magnitude, they had lost handily. Dhows' armies had throttled Lore's forces. Yet, he reminded himself, the loss had renewed their passion for battle. In the months following that bitter defeat, wars were being won in record time-- including the most recent confrontation with the SeekRat. The battle's outcome would be decided by which version of Lore's heroes showed up-- the weary, fatigued forces that had yielded to Dhows a few months prior, or the triumphant, valourous warriors that had trod the battlefield in the wars before and after.
Death's Kid extingished his campfire and rolled up his tent, then began looking for a vantage point. He didn't have long to wait. He was sure of that.
Trigger Happy
As Death's Kid had expected, the enemy ranks were a diverse bunch. Led by Doc Sawbones, Strageth, and the Fear Drake, the waves were comprised primarily of Undead, Demons, and Dragons. Easy targets. He grinned as he gave his Chimera a quick kick to spur it on, Golden Axe brandished. He swung his weapon wildly at the incoming waves, slicing through them like water. Bones flew everywhere as the Undead fell to pieces. Flames shot from the ground as the Demons were exorcised. The ground shook with every Dragon that fell to the ground, defeated. It was too easy.
Still, he knew this was only the beginning. These forces were disposable, merely the vanguard. Nine other villains were amassing their forces elsewhere, and there was little doubt that they would pose a much greater challenge. It was much too early to become overconfident.
He felt another tremor as he turned to cut another swath through the enemy army. He realized that Lore's forces had just over 5 days to eradicate the enemy. Judging by the speed that they were vanquishing the vanguard, it could very well be an attainable task. But, as he noted, it was still too early too tell.
He adjusted his helmet as he re-entered the fray. He bellowed a war cry as his Chimera crashed through a squad of Death Knights. As his Chimera reared up, as his axe slashed through his unfortunate adversaries, everyone on that battlefield could hear Death's Kid working his magic once again.
They Call Him TubThumper
As the final ranks of Undead began to fall before Lore's heroes, Death's Kid felt a deep urge to move to the south. Convinced that his senses were leading him towards the next group of enemies, he charged forth without hesitation. Under the feet of his Chimera, he could see the ground shaking under the feet of many monsters. He sheathed his Golden Axe and readied his Tonbo-giri, holding it as a Knight would a jousting lance.
As his Chimera climbed the hill that Twilly loved to stand upon in peaceful times, he could see that where would be plenty of dirty work afoot. Tubthumper the Beastmaster led an army of thunderous, rampaging beasts, under cover of Queen Hybee's personal guard and Tyranna's aerial army. Death's Kid spat into the dirt. This was going to be tricky. Aerial beasts tended to stay just out of range of his melee strikes, making them a sizeable threat on their own, let alone with land-based reinforcements. This would require magic.
He raised his Tonbo-giri and pulled his spellbook from under his chestplate. "Strike mine foes as still as logs-- I call upon ye, Soupy Red Fog!"
Somewhere in Darkovia, a chill wind kicked up and blew towards the east as the Red Fog changed course towards the fields south of BattleOn. But, as he knew too well, the wind was a slow if reliable ally. It would take a few hours for the Red Fog to blow in from Darkovia. He couldn't just sit there and wait. He began stretching the leather he wore underneath his armour to cover every inch of his exposed flesh, as he knew all too well that the Fog would tear into him if it made contact with his body.
As soon as he was fully protected, he held his weapon high. He would have to distract the enemy until the Red Fog descended upon the battlefield. If the army was moved even a mile, much of the Fog's impact would be wasted. After adjusting his gas mask so that his voice would be unobstructed, he called out to his adversaries.
"Oi, ya feral swine! Why don't ya stop running aboot and fight? Yer all a disgrace!"
The Debilzards leading the pack stopped and sniffed the air. They had heard him. They turned and saw a lone Adventurer waving at him from on top of a hill. They growled, sparking the other members of their forces to turn and snort in derision.
"Too gutless to come and fight me all the way up here, are ye? Very well!" Death's Kid pulled the mask over his face. "I'll come to ye, then!" He barreling down towards the enemy, twirling the spear-like weapon over his head and dodging Hybee stringers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw BattleOnian reinforcements arriving. The first wave had been vanquished, and Lore's heroes were still hungry for more.
Cold Steel from Ground and Sea
As the sun began to fade behind the horizon, the sunset began to flash a bright red. The Red Fog had arrived. Death's Kid called out to his allies. "Go on! Git oot of range! I don't want ya to wind up burnt real dead-like like the monsters are going to be!" As the remainder of Lore's heroes began to retreat towards town, he ran one final check through his safety gear. He was fully covered, He scanned the enemy waves. So far, they hadn't noticed the cloud of death drifting towards them. He pulled out his spellbook. "To control the winds is the strongest hex! Grant me this power, great Vortex!"
As if on cue, dark storm clouds began to form. The wind picked up, steering the Red Fog down towards the battlefield. He traced the shape of a funnel cloud with his free hand, and a twister began to descend upon the battlefield. The Red Fog became insnared in the tornado, creating a deadly firestorm of gas. The whistling winds caught the attention of the beasts, who turned to run.
But it was too late. As the twister touched down, the enemy army became like toy soldiers. The Red Vortex became like children's hands, picking them up and throwing them in a deadly barrage. In moments, the enemy army was trapped in a burning inferno.
"Here in BattleOn you do not belong! Back to Darkovia, Soupy Red Fog!" He grinned as the tornado ascended back towards the clouds, taking the enemy with it. The storm would unravel itself above Darkovia, and the monsters' remains would litter the dark forest. The Vampires and Werewolves would feast well that night, and the legions of Necromancers would have no shortage of fresh recruits.
He closed his eyes and allowed his psychic sense to overtake him. He sensed a third wave to the east, led by Metalface, Terrestria, and Captain Munch. He wouldn't need the Red Fog to deal with land and water based creatures.
Death's Kid pulled his Junas Axe and Nova Knight Kilij from their sheathes. They would see much battle before the day was done,
The Cornered Rat Will Bite the Cat
As the moon rose on the third day of battle, the final members of the third wave fell in battle. Morale amongst the BattleOnian troops was high. It seemed that there was little chance of losing the war now. Over three quarters of the Seekrat's so-called "Terrible Twelve" had been vanquished. As one BattleOnian soldier joked, "It appears that they are, indeed, truly terrible."
The celebrations were short-lived, however. As the sun rose on the fourth day of battle, news began to spread of ElBhe's capture at the hands of the Terrible Twelve. The Seekrat had captured him for unknown purposes, but there was no doubt that his reasons were nefarious. The time had come to take the fight to the SeekRat himself.
With only Algern the ShadowKnight's forces to fight alongside his own, the final wave would be smaller than the three that had fallen at the hands of BattleOn's heroes. Regardless of this fact, however, it became clear with only a glance that he had saved his most diverse forces for his last hurrah. Any and all survivors from the first three assaults had been called together for one final stand, While even these reinforcements failed to change the fact that the final wave was smaller than the others, it meant that the fight would not be easy.
Death's Kid stood on a hilltop over looking the western fields. Both sides were preparing for the final clash. He would manuever his way around the enemy forces and lead a flank attack. From there, both squadrons of fighters would spread themselves around the enemy until the foe was completely encompassed. With nowhere to hide and no option to retreat, the enemy would quickly be mowed down.
He smiled darkly as he adjusted his helmet. The SeekRat had set up a vast amount of monsters. It was time to knock them down.
A Shadow of A Man... and a Rat as Well
As the moon fell behind the BattleOnian hills, the final screams of battle fell silent. It had taken four days, but Lore's heroes had repelled the enemy army. Still, Death's Kid couldn't fully enjoy the victory. Algern and the SeekRat had teleported themselves away before he could land a serious blow on either of them. In fact, each of the leaders of the Terrible Twelve were still very much alive.
"Cowards." He spat into the dirt. "Too yellow-bellied to take their lumps like true villains."
He knew that no amount of name-calling would change the fact that his foes had escaped. Still, dissension had been sowed in the enemy ranks. The leaders were certain to be bickering amongst themselves, trying to pin the blame for the loss on each other. Though each of the Terrible Twelve still drew breath, the Twelve itself would be no more before much longer. They would soon all go their seperate ways.
ElBhe's whereabouts had yet to be ascertained. Any celebration would be foolhardy without him. A search party was being assembled, and Death's Kid had signed himself up. They would find him.
And when they did, anyone who stood in their way would fall. Just like the armies they had led.
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