North Grenden Plains

50 miles west of Fort Washington

8 A.M.

Month 6, Day 8, Year 237

The Nobian encampment began bustling with activity, as soldiers awoke and began their morning activities. Two soldiers in particular were chatting about the upcoming battle.

“Can’t wait to experience my first battle, Gentro. I am beyond excited, for I relish the possibility of glory!”

“Ah calm down there Jomas, we don’t even know what our new foes are capable of.”

“The Americans? I’ve never heard of them in my life, so they must be an upstart country!”

“Yeah, I heard rumors about their country only being just over 200 years old. Must be extremely weak in that case.”

“Yeah, and the Commander tells us there’s not even two thousand Americans at their base. They don’t even have walls! He says they’ve got puny fences!”

“Well, in any case I am hoping they aren’t secretly a Mekkanese expeditionary force. I hear they got similar vehicles to them… Hey do you hear that?”

The conversation between the two soldiers was interrupted by a peculiar sound, as if the air itself was being beat. To the Nobians, who had never heard a helicopter, it sounded like an extremely large dragonfly, flapping its wings at incredible speeds, and with greater bass to the sounds this flapping produced. The soldiers scoured the skies for the source of this noise, finally discovering a flying machine, similar to the ones from Mekkan, but with the rotors on top rather than in front. In addition, this weirdly shaped flying device had a tail with a smaller rotor.

The curious thoughts of the soldiers were cut short by a booming voice, originating from the machine. It spoke to them in their native language, rather than Gaerran Standard, thanks to the assistance of communication magic.

“This is the United States Military! This is a warning to halt your advancement! You are prohibited from moving your troops within thirty miles of Fort Washington; if you wish to proceed to Sool Fort you must go around our base! We WILL open fire if you trespass on our property! Again, this is the United States—”

The machine’s announcement was cut short after a dragon rider from the Nobian Army Air Corps shot a fireball in the direction of the machine, which easily dodged the projectile and flew off in the direction from which it came.

“That was odd. I’ve never seen any machine like that before.”

The lieutenant of the two soldiers’ squad then made an announcement, relayed from the generals in their command tent.

“Ignore whatever the machine said! We are advancing to the portal, and we will eliminate the Americans before advancing onto Sool Fort. For Nobia!”

“FOR NOBIA!”

10 miles from Fort Washington

8 A.M.

Month 6, Day 10

Like yesterday, another flying machine visited the Nobian encampment.

It gave the same message, this time asking the approaching Nobians to turn back immediately or risk annihilation.

Two particular soldiers pondered this message.

“Jomas, I have a strange feeling in my gut. As if something may turn out wrong…”

“Ah Gentro, that is what we call excitement! We have an unstoppable army!” Jomas exclaimed, gesturing toward the fleet of dragon riders in the air.

Dragon riders are the most powerful weapons available to either the Nobians or Sonarans. It is said that they are even capable of holding their own against the mechanical aircraft of the Mekkanese and the hybrid aircraft of the Divinian Empire. They have average top speeds of up to 350 miles per hour, with the most genetically gifted dragons being capable of up to 450 miles per hour. This speed, coupled with their armor, put them on even footing with Mekkanese aircraft. The scales of the dragons are even resistant to the powerful muskets of the Eanif Imperium, suggesting that these dragons are resistant to small arms fire from calibers smaller than 7.62x39.

Gentro felt reassured by Jomas’ extravagant declaration. This feeling however, was cut disappointingly short by a seemingly random explosion that vaporized a dragon rider and fatally injured 3 more around it.

“AAH, my dragon is falling out of the sky!”

“What in the moons was that?!”

“They got Johl!”

“NOO, I don’t want to die!”

“I thought this was supposed to be glorious!”

“The arrows are follo—”

A volley of 40 AIM-120 missiles had been launched from 10 F-15 fighters, who were over 20 miles away. Having expended their ammunition, they returned to base for resupply.

Within a minute, three dozen more explosions had occurred, decimating almost half of the dragon fleet. 80 dragons and their respective riders were killed in this initial volley. The Nobian Army Air Corps, having been attacked by an unseen force, began to panic. The surviving forces relayed their engagement back to the Nobian generals.

Nobian Imperial War Room

8:15 A.M.

“Your Majesty, my commanders from the front lines have suggested a temporary retreat. We haven’t ventured too far into the machine’s designated territories. If we pull back slightly, we will be able to analyze the attack and create a new plan in safety.”

“You have my permission. Report back to me once you have worked out a new plan.”

8:30 A.M.

The Nobian generals argue amongst themselves in the war room.

“Their attacks seemingly come from nowhere! And they are very powerful when it comes to explosive weaponry. We need to make sure our troops are scattered on the next offensive!”

“We should send mages and our mana gem carriages so they can produce shields and push forth!”

This idea came from Lano, the Sonaran agent. Having seen American firepower during one of his “vacations”, he knew the shields would not fare well against the extraordinary capabilities of American weapons. He hoped to deplete the Nobian Army’s mage count, and also test the true power of the newcomers’ otherworldly weapons.

Although many members of the Nobian High Command were more than willing to support such an aggressive strategy, a few more logical generals saw through the plan’s flaws. One of these few quickly interjected.

“What if the enemy performs multiple attack runs? How many attack runs can our mages’ shields hold against? Channeling all that energy into shields and for what? Just to make it to their front gate, where our forces will have no mana and thus no mage support?”

Lano, struggling to formulate an idea to support his aggressive ploy, abandoned the idea and remained silent. An infamous general from the upper ranks of High Command spoke. It was no other than Nosh himself, the man who perfected the Nosh Ambush.

“These enemies are not to be underestimated. We must employ stealth tactics in order to surprise and confuse the enemy. Our forces are too large to sneak up on the enemies with invisibility spells, but we can spare enough mana gems to make a group of mages invisible. These mages will sneak toward the base, surround it, and summon earth golems and illusions in order to distract the enemy force. Meanwhile, the Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth Detachments can push forth, while the Fifth and Sixth can flank opposing sides.”

Nosh’s elaborate plan was visually supplemented by pieces on a table, which he moved around to represent the configuration of his formations. Having caught the intrigue of all commanders within the room, Nosh continued.

“As a precaution, mages still attached to our primary forces can summon illusions ahead of them in order to divert enemy attacks. The enemy will wish to attack large clusters of troops, and may target artillery pieces, so our mages should summon illusions of these valuable targets, while our main forces maintain distance. The enemy will waste ammunition on ‘valuable’ targets that don’t even exist. This tactic may only work for the duration of one attack run, so we must act expediently.”

Lano, wanting to decipher the mind of this brilliant tactician, asked a question.

“When should we begin the offensive?”

Nosh replied, his answer unsurprising due to his heritage.

“We begin at nightfall.”