Negotiations report R-01

Report carried out by Ambassador Eugene Anderson

Report states: Peaceful negotiations have been successfully initiated with the following rosian representatives: duke Vizoz Gran of Zirith, duke Tavion Dergoz of Dothen and duke Corbin Hagot of Elarith, king Ostontul Wolfash of Opherin and king Thavok Zorgen of Alston. A non-aggression pact was signed by all members. However, an armed conflict erupted when duke Vizoz attempted murder. Captain Bartley was able to restrain him, but the situation quickly escalated as Zirith forces attacked the rangers stationed outside. Thanks to the intervention of the Opherin, Alston, Dothen and Elarith forces casualties were kept to a minimum and the surviving Zirithian soldiers were apprehended. The conflict resulted in nineteen casualties, twenty-nine injured rangers and ended with the death of duke Vizoz by king Ostontul's hand.

A similar situation occurred in the Meilume capital, where the Imperial senator Cato Aquil Donos organized an assassination attempt on the Meilume nobility and representing REC officers present. The assassination was prevented by Green beret specialists. Lord Bellon Belus has apologized for his actions stating that he will support REC forces in the future.

---

22nd day of early green season

Near the Alston-Zirith border

A soldier's life was simple, but that didn't mean it was easy. Many threats lurked in the lands, from ferals to rogues and bandits. Even the elves' empire wasn't safe from internal problems.

Still, it was a good life for those who had the stomach and tenacity. However, it does occasionally get slow and boring. Tasks such as patrolling and maintenence, while important, were tedious and often unrewarded in the eyes of recruits.

"Someone kill me now.", whined one of said recruits.

"Just shut up already.", said another one behind him, "I got sick of your voice an hour ago."

"Just one more village.", said the leading knight, "Then we go back to the outpost."

"How much further then?"

"Shouldn't be far off.", the senior knight spoke.

As the four of them were riding towards their final destination, a horrific sight made them stop in their tracks. The village, which bordered with the duchy of Zirith was burning. They stood there, perplexed by the situation. Moving away from the village, they saw thousands of troops marching east, caring the flag of the Imperial tenth army.

'How could this have happened?', was the question on everyone's mind.

All were quiet until the senior broke the silence. "Valco! Tomnir! Go back to the outpost and send a raven to the capital! Castle Goldar is under attack!". The two stood still for moments until he shouted again, "Now!". They ran off.

"And what of us?", asked the other knight.

"We will ride east. We need to warn the other villages and outpost on the way. Hopefully the elves won't see us."

"I take it negotiations with those humans didn't go well."

"Aye", the veteran nodded his head. The two rode off, taking the long way, staying out of sight and praying they won't be late.

---

(Meanwhile)

Molak castle, Opherin

Molak was one of the main bastions of the great rebellion. Regarded by many as the greatest Rosian castle, it stood for generations and didn't break at the sight of elves. Having a terrain advantage of being built on high ground, Molak held on against the Imperial assault for months until king Ostontul was forced to sign a surrender. Now its resolve would be tested again.

Across the plains a great army marched. Beasts of war snarled like animals as they moved on their tied limbs. Siege machines were dragged across the fields by lumbering trolls and ogres. The elves marched in perfect unison with great discipline. Their formations polished to perfection through cycles of dedicated training.

Inside of Molak, Opherin knights steeled themselves and prepared their defenses. Arrows and oil placed on the walls, catapults and balistas armed, gate sealed.

A young soldier ran up the castle stairs and barged into the war room, startling most of those present.

"What is the meaning of this soldier?!", shouted one of the officers at the table. The young man mumbled and tripped on his own words as if though he couldn't breathe.

Before he could utter a single word, another man yelled, "Speak or leave! We do not have time for this!"

The young soldier was noticeably shaking and was about to leave, but was halted by an elderly man clad in thick armor.

"Now now.", the man spoke in a deep but strangely comforting voice, "Calm yourself soldier. Tell me, what is your name and why have you come here?"

The soldier took in a deep breath before answering, "My name is Dargan. I've returned from scouting the enemy forces. Barely made it out, one of the feral welfen almost got me."

The armored mad raised an eyebrow in intrique, "Impressive. And what did you see?"

"An army of fifty thousand troops, my lord. Thirty thousand elves and the rest are feral beasts."

A strange sight engulfed the man's face as he stared at the young soldier. With a pat on the shoulder he told him to leave and walked slowly to the table.

"Lord Blazewing?", one of the officers asked in worry, "Is something the matter?"

He did not answer.

"Tegnar?", asked another man as he grabbed his shoulder.

Finally, the old man spoke, "Fifty thousand.". The men around the table stared in confusion at both him and each other. He wasn't worried more so than he was surprised. "Is that all we are worth?"

One of the officers wanted to speak, but was cut off, "That is all they sent?! A bunch of boot lickers and animals?!". He stormed outside, sword in hand. Running up the wall he caught everyone's attention. As he stared out into the approaching force, he couldn't help but laugh. More and more. Until he stopped and looked back at his men.

"This is what they send! We hold the greatest fortress in the south! Its walls have held countless armies! We stand united as the Opherin's finest defenders and yet they dare look down upon us! My brothers! An army of animals and fat nobles drags its feet across the lands! Forgive me when the time comes for us to waste our time in taking their meaningless lives! When they beg for mercy and cry for help! These are lands and our homes! Say it!"

"Our lands, our homes!", shouted the soldiers.

"Louder!" Tegnar yelled.

"Our lands, our homes!"

"The enemy outnumbers us five to one! That just means we must fight five times harder! None of you are allowed to die until you've killed five enemies each! Am I clear!?"

"Yes lord Blazewing!"

Turning around, Tegnar pointed his sword towards the marching enemies, "Come at us you cowards! Come and die! I am Tegnar Blazewing and I will throw your rotting corpses off these walls."

No one was running away. No one was retreating. All were prepared to fight and die. Their battle cry echoed across the fields and to the enemy. The ferals howled and horses neighed. It was clear to everyone, that a bloody battle was about to occur.

---

(Meanwhile)

Shores near Torfa, Opherin kingdom

Admiral Dunro Kalus was young for someone of his position. In his three hundred and fifty eight cycle he commanded an entire fleet. And he lusted for war. His fleet had never been given a proper campaign ever since his relocation to Calnola bay. Originally the stationed fleet of Lashil, the ninth were a very capable fleet by Imperial standards. However, due to Dunro's thirst for battle, he demanded a relocation to a more 'exciting' area.

Calnola bay stretched from the shores of the wastelands all the way to the Alston kingdom. And Dunro prayed for one of them to make a foolish attempt. Upon hearing emperor Canus' orders to assault the Opherin port city of Torfa, he simply couldn't contain himself.

All sails were raised and all troops prepared. More ships were taken from Oxtona island in order to carry extra ammunition and ferals as well as enslaved tribals. He would take this city by great force and leave no one standing.

As his fleet reached the city a strange sight greeted them. No ships were in sight apart from a few small fishing vessels and the walls were quiet. No movement, no sound, no bells. Nothing. It looked as if though the Rosians abandoned the city.

"My lord.", called Dunro's first mate, "What are your orders?"

Dunro snickered at the sight before him, "Pathetic. Resulting to cheap tricks. I want a cohort of soldiers, a cohort of tribals and two cohorts of ferals on that beach! Bring a troll and ogres to destroy the gate! Prepare extra and get more troops there as soon as possible"

At his orders the elves scrambled. Signal flags were raised and orders relayed to all ships in the vicinity. Landing crafts were filled and lowered to the water. When they landed they had expected a sturdy resistance, but were underwhelmed as nothing happened.

This made the elves spark with joy pride. The city had been freely given to them. The cohort's lieutenant ordered the ferals and tribals to siege the walls while the troll and ogres rammed the gate. But that was when their short-lived victory ended.

Emerging from cover, Rosian knights opened fire on the approaching beasts with bows and crossbows. Groups were set on fire with oil and latter that were placed on the walls were broken. The tribals that survived the initial volley retreated while the ferals were slaughtered as they attempted to claw their way to the top of the wall.

The archers rained arrows on the elves and dozens were killed, forcing the others to shield themselves. The lieutenant watched through a crack with a grin as the troll reached the gate along with the three ogres. A grin which did not hold for long.

The defenders unleashed a precise volley of arrows at the ogres' heads, causing them to yell and grunt in pain as large bolts from wall-mounted crossbows pierced their necks and chests. The troll was about to slam its bloated, grotesque fists on the gate but was stopped by a javelin fired from a ballista directly into its head. Its dead body flopped to the ground.

The elves watched in shock as large balls of fire were hurled from behind the walls at the landing crafts. More were thrown at the ones that recently got off the carriers. Three were hit directly and one was damaged in the front, causing it to lose its balance.

The lieutenant looked back at the wall, now in anger. He saw a Rosian climb on the highest point in the middle.

"You thought this would be easy?!",the Rosian spoke. From the voice he could tell it was woman. "You thought we would just keel over and give you the city!? This is Torfa! The pride of Opherin's shores! And you will bleed for every inch!". Unsheething her sword she pointed it directly to Dunro's ship. "So if you want it, come and get it!"

Her speech was followed up by a cacophony of battle cries and taunts. Enough to make the now stranded elves shake and tribels to hide. But it filled Dunro with nothing but excitement.

---

(Five days later)

North border of the Alston Kingdom

Sieges of any kind were hell for both sides. The attackers were forced to take things slowly and carefully while the defenders had to endure constant attacks. It wasn't too hard to tell who was at a disadvantage.

The Alstonian castle of Rondo, commanded by lord Girdif Musto, was in a bad position to say the least. They were the closest to Fort Mundus, one the four great elven fortresses. As such they always had to be on alert for potential attacks. Girdif never assumed he would face one of this magnitude.

A force of thirty thousand Imperial soldiers from the tenth army along with twenty thousand auxilia attacked the border by surprise. The siege had been dragged out for five days but it was clear the elves wanted to destroy Rondo as soon as possible.

Wave after wave of beasts charged, only to be met with arrows and spears. The elves that manage to climb the walls were beaten back, but little by little they made ground. A larger problem were the mages. Their force barriers protected large groups of soldiers while their flame magic incinerated the defensive emplacements. Several were killed by Rondo's own spell casters but they too were dying, either from exhaustion or wounds.

"Hold them back!", Girdif shouted as loud as he could, "Reinforce the east, we need more men!"

"My lord we barely have enough as it is!", said one of the officers, "We must retreat, they still haven't surrounded us, the stream to the south can-"

Girdif cut him off by grabbing him by the collar,"I will not abandon Rondo! It will not be lost!"

Moments later, a pair of wyverns swooped down from the sky. With their size and strength they tore through the dozens of knights in the courtyard. Some were devoured while others crushed. Many attempted to kill the beasts but only managing to wound their limbs.

One of them looked up at Girdif and let out a terrifying screech. A screech that was cut by large bolt shot through its mouth. The beast tumbled around and thrashed its head, but that only worked against it as the bolt went deeper and deeper, choking further and killing it.

The other was shot through its chest. As it screamed in pain, it knocked the elf of its back. He was quickly killed and more knights climbed onto the wyvern and pierced its head with spears.

The screams died down. This was a victory, but a victory they had no time to enjoy. More balls of fire came over the walls and more beasts and elves began to climb.

Girdif was paralyzed. He stared into his knights in the courtyard, who lost all hope. He watched as the walls were overwhelmed and as the gates were about to break.

The officer next to him placed his hand on Girdif's shoulder. "Rondo is already lost, my lord.", he said with great regret and empathy.

But Girdif didn't listen. Instead he just looked forward into the fields and wondered 'How?'. And in that moment, he noticed something he couldn't see before. He saw pillars of smoke rising in the distance. But that couldn't be. The only thing in that direction is Fort Mundus and no one could just take it. Unless...

"My lord!", shouted one of the knights beside him, "Look!". He pointed to the sky on the right and all of them stared into it as flying objects came into view.

Wyvern? No. The elves would have shown them by now. Another army? There was no need. So what were they?Girdif could tell those weren't elves. When they came on top of them, he could see clearly that they were not like anything he had seen before. Made completely out of steel with wings that rotate instead flap. Different shapes and sizes too. And inside the head of one of them he saw two men.

The elves seemed to be as surprised as them. All of them stopped in their tracks to watch the mysterious contraptions. Then the fire came.

The smaller steel wyvern fired metal rods, which caused cohorts of elves to burn. They fired even more at the large beasts and siege machines while their seemingly thin cannons unleashed a hale of small cannonballs at the others.

The larger ones hovered over the courtyard and fired their own repeating boomsticks at the elves and beasts on the walls and in the courtyard.

Elven mages created shields to protect themselves but were of little use as the constant barage overwhelmed and tore through them like a knife through cheese. Others casted flame spells, engulfing the steel wyverns in fire. This however, was of no use either. They fired once again and once again the same thing occurred.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Imperials and auxilia were slaughtered in seconds. Some of the elves fell on their knees and raised their hands in surrender. Others were defiant to the very short end. And many fled, leaving everything behind and running for their lives.

"Sir, what is this!?", asked the officer next to Girdif, who did nothing but stare in awe at the sight before him.

Before any of them could say anything, the large contraptions opened themselves and dropped what looked like rope. Dozens of green, gray and brown men soldiers descended down and formed circles, pointing with their black boomsticks. The knights panicked but these soldiers assured them they had nothing to worry about.

"The rumors were true.", said the knight, "They're real. The steel wyverns, the green soldiers, all of it! They came!"

One of the soldiers climbed up the stairs. He stood in front of the three men there, covered head to toe in fabric and armor and wearing a helmet with a mask.

"Which one of you is Girdif Musto?", he asked through the mask in Imperial tounge. This unnerved the men slightly, but Girdif stepped forward nonetheless.

"That would be me.", he said. His breath still shaky and palms sweaty.

The green soldier removed his helmet to reveal a young man with black hair. "I'm captain Logan Connors of the Rift Expeditionary Corps. There's another army coming, but we will take care of them. You can rest now, this battle is over."

Hearing his words, Girdif felt his heart beat normally and lunges breath fully, like a large weight had been listed off his chest. He couldn't help but let out a few tears of show and genuine gratitude.

He walked over to the edge of the wall and looked at his knights. Bruised, beaten, exhausted. "Knights of Alston!", he shouted at the top of his lungs, "The battle is won! Rondo stands!"

Mixed reactions engulfed the courtyard. Many wept from joy and relief, other yelled in excitement. Some embraced the green soldiers as their own brethren. Finally, a victory they could be happy about.

---

(Meanwhile)

Elyana, Empire of Light

When Canus ordered the armies to prepare for assault on the Rosian kingdoms most of the senators almost immediately approved. None of them were keen on the idea of their own vassals conspiring against them. These humans and this America are invaders and all who join their side are considered traitors of the highest order.

Corvus and the other more peaceful senators called them honorless and no better than the beasts they deem inferior. This caused outrage and Canus was tempted to throw them all off a cliff. Sadly, politics were not so simple.

If he was to remain emperor and leader he would have to show he was no brute. Using his words he gave explanations as to why he gave the order, claiming that the spirits have deemed these humans as enemies of their divine mission and that they spread trickery and corruption. He used lord Bellon Belus as an example, saying how his mind is poisoned and how senator Donos was right to carry out his orders.

The supposed assassins were nothing lies, made up to make the empire look bad. Furthermore, he encouraged the armies that past losses were merely flukes and that now they know the humans can be beat.

But Ylindar knew the truth. So did his closest subordinates.

After the conclusion of the senat meeting, Canus returned to his study where he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes and letting out a half-exhausted, half-frustrated sigh. Thoughts bombarded his mind by the thousands. Things weren't going as planned, at least most weren't. Never before had he been this exhausted, even during the dwarven and Rosian rebellions. But this was different.

Soon enough, his wife, queen Alruna, entered the room. "What troubles you husband?"

"What doesn't?", he replied.

Alruna clapped her hands and a human woman, dressed in typical maid attire, entered the room, carrying a teapot and cups on a silver platter. She placed them on the table, bowed her haid and left the room.

"Thank you, Maya.", said Alruna before the maid left the room.

As Alruna poured the tea, Canus groaned at the sight he witnessed. "I can't believe you kept them."

"What would you have me do? Kill them? We're not monsters, Canus. "

"I never said that.", he spoke before sipping his tea, "I just can't see how you trust them."

"No one can truly be trusted, we know that better than anyone.", Alruna said, sipping her own tea, "But if we are to one day rule over them once this is over, we have to accept them. Besides, they're not barbarians. They are actually quite pleasant to talk to."

Canus sighed and stood up, turning to the window behind him and looking out. He saw the vast city. A jewel of the Empire. The beacon of light in a dark world. And as he looked out, he suppressed the thought of it all crumbling down.

"You are afraid.", Alruna said.

"Fear is irrelevant.", Canus replied, still looking at the city, "We must be strong if we are to uphold the will of the spirits."

"And enslaving the humans is their will?"

"The visions never lie, Alruna."

"What if they're wrong?". Her question made Canus turn around to face her. His expression filled with a mixture of confusion and rage. "What if they, for once, showed us what not to do. Showed the consequences of our ways."

"What was I supposed to do!? Welcome them? With open arms? If even half of what the survivors said is true, they are ruthless and unyielding. They have already turned the Rosians against us. And you want me to do what?"

"I want you to stop thinking like a soldiers and start thinking like a leader. Stop this war and call a truce. Make amends before it is-"

"Are you hearing yourself?", he interrupted, "Truce? Amends? We took chances like this before and they costed us dearly. I will not repeat the same mistake as those before me."

"So that's what it is.", Alruna said as she stood up, "Pride."

"Watch your tone, Alruna. I am the emperor."

"You're not half the man you were before the crown."

Hearing those words made Canus twitch in anger. He walked closer to Alruna, who seemed unfazed. When Canus came right in front of her, the door opened and a servant entered. He wanted to speak but the sight befkre him made his mouth unable to move.

"What is it!?", Canus asked, snapping the servant back.

"Prince Hagmar wishes to see you, Your Majesty. He says it is urgent."

Canus gave his wife a stern look before heading out of the room. Alruna sat back down and looked into her reflection in the tea with a concerned expression.

Walking down the halls of the palace, Canus attempted to ease his nerves before speaking with his son. Hagmar Pasos, the next emperor, was an eccentric young man. He never showed ambition for ruling and instead opted for the ways of science and wisdom. Canus had hoped that eventually Hagmar would show interest in the throne, but it seemed like Armas was the one who heald the most aspiration for it.

Reaching his son's study, Canus knocked on the door twice and entered. The sight staggered him. Dozens of parchments and noted nailed and spread out across the floor and walls. Chalkboards scribbled with words and equations he himself couldn't make out. Books stacked on top of one another, spiraling upwards like towers.

"Son?", Canus asked, unsure where his son was. After a brief moment, Hagmar came into the room through another door next to the largest bookshelf.

"Father!", Hahmar ecstatically shouted, "Perfect timing. I just finished my notes on a machine that uses steam to power its wheels and move faster than horses. Can you believe that?"

Canus was expectedly shocked and dumbfounded by his words. His mind was still taking in the sight he had just witnessed. "Your study, son?"

Hagmar looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened in an expression of realization. "Ah yes, I'm sorry for the mess. But you must understand, this is terrific."

"Son, calm down. What is?"

"Everything! Absolutely everything! These people father, these humans. They've achieved so much in such a short amount of time. They live lives that are a ten times shorter than ours but have accomplished a hundred times more."

Canus tried to speak but was immedialty cut off.

"They built cities that reach the heavens, the explored the stars and uncovered secrets we only dreamed of. Their world is one of death but also progress. Father do you understand what this means? We can make revolutionize the empire, create a far better world. One which has no need for war."

Looking away from his son, Canus walked to the parchments on the bookshelves. Taking one, he tilted his head. "Where have you learned this?"

Hesitating for moments, Hagmar glanced at the door he came out of and answered, "From the elder General Laeroth brought, John Roggers."

"So they've filled your head with lies, too.", Canus said with a sigh as he crunched the parchment in his hand.

"Lies?", Hagmar asked in disbelief, "Have you not heard a word of what I just said? Think about what we could learn from them. About the things we could achieve and the lives we could save in the future.". Canus did not answer. "Does your senile mind only think about war!?"

This made Canus snap and he furiously walked to Hagmar. "Careful how joy speak to me, boy. I am the emperor."

"Of what? A stagnant empire? For the past three thousand cycles, we have done nothing but take and abuse! Kingdom after kingdom, continent after continent, race after race! When will be enough?"

"When order is set and the spirits' will is done!"

"What order father!", Hagmar shouted so loudly, the guards and servants in the halls flinched as they walked by, "Rebellions keep rising! Monsters keep terrorizing our land! Now our own vassals have gone against us because of you! And the spirits? Don't make me laugh! You wanted this war to satiate your own ego!"

"Quiet."

"No wonder Armas is the way he is. He after you. A scared and superstitious old man!"

In that moment, no words escaped Hagmar's mouth as Canus clenched his hand around his throat. Hagmar squeezed his father's forearm and begged him to stop. Falling on his knees, he could feel his lungs giving up. Canus then released his grip, letting him fall to the ground and gasp for air.

"Clean this mess up.", Canus spoke, showing no signs of remorse, "You will not speak of this again.". He left the room, leaving his son alone.

As he exited, he slumped against a wall, sweat dripping from his forehead and hands shaking. Giving himself a moment of breather, he recovered his posture and walked to the throne room.

Across the hall behind a corner, one of the servants observed him and hurried into the opposite direction.

---

(That evening)

They ran. It's all they could do. After witnessing the decimation of their army at the hands of whatever they were, Kovah was the first to flee along with his cohort. Or at least, what was left of it.

Out of the tenth army bulk, only about a legion's worth of soldiers survived, not counting the tribals. Kovah wasn't sure if general Myrdin or even captain Toris survived. At the very least he was glad that his cohort was in a reserve legion.

Their only hope was to return to Fort Mundus and await reinforcements. Right now he was retreating along with roughly a thousand survivors, both elves and tribals. The others split up, some running into forests and others returning to the fort in a different direction. A possibility of many surrendering crossed Kovah's mind more than once, but he couldn't afford to take a risk. If the enemy commanded such beasts, then he shuddered to imagine how cruel they could be.

"Come on!", shouted one of the senyots, a veteran amongst the group, "We are almost there!"

Under the cover of night, they were able to make significant distance from the Alston border. Strangely enough, the enemy didn't give chase. But they still couldn't let their guard down.

As they approached Fort Mundus their stepped became more and more wary. When they got close enough they stopped in their tracks and stared at the pillars of smoke rising from behind the walls. They could hear boomsticks popping and explosions. In the sky they saw more metal monsters the enemy controlled. They hoped their fears hadn't come true. Has the enemy really taken the fort?

"They need us.", the senyot said, "Come! We can flank the enemy once we're inside."

"Have you gone mad?!", shouted a soldier, "Didn't you see they have more of those iron wyverns? Our only hope is to flee. Run as far away as possible."

Many agreed but some hesitated. They've already been on their feet for hours.

The senyot approached the soldier, "Are you suggesting desertion? I will not abandon this fort and leave it to the enemy."

"Your fort is already lost.", said one of the welfen, "Even we can see that."

"You dare speak to me in such a manner, savage?"

"Enough!", Kovah shouted, "There is a secret entrance into this fort near the western spire. If we get over there we can-". His sentence was cut short by the tribals' twitching.

"Something is coming.", said a lepian, her ears pointing upwards and her posture stiffening. Soon enough they all heard it. It sounded like carts on a dirt road but different, louder and overlapped with a mixture of purring and roaring.

The first thing that shocked them were the lights. It was as if the sun came down in front of them. Then as their eyes adjusted they saw the enemy carriages. Large and metal, some were smaller while others larger and more armored. Kovah couldn't make out how many, but a dozen at the very least. His troops prepared for an assault but the enemy did not engage. Instead they formed a half circle around them, their large, black boomsticks pointed at them.

"Surrender immediately!", shouted a loud voice from one of the carriages, "If you do not we will open fire! Stand down!". As if on cue, the enemy emerged from the carriages. Dozens of them pointed their weapons.

Kovah didn't know what to do. Should he surrender? What will happen to him if he does? Do they fight and overpower them with numbers? No solution came to his mind. But another problem did.

One of the few surviving mages conjured a force shield while two used their flame magic to send spheres of fire the size of a cannon ball at the enemy. Some flew over them while others landed on the carriages. The smaller ones were burnt and left with grey marks while the larger had mere scratches. Two lucky spheres landed on the enemy soldiers, engulfing them in flames. But it wasnt enough.

The others opened fire, their boomsticks firing many times a second and blowing holes in the elven soldiers and tribals. The ones mounted on the carriages rotated and sent blazes light and metal that tore elves apart. The mages struggled to hold against the onslaught, their legs shaking and arms quivering. Kovah wanted to tell them to retreat, but was distracted by round, fist-sized stones thrown in front of them.

Said stones exploded and broke the force shield, knocking the mages out and killing whoever was unfortunate enough to be close. Kovah's right leg was bleeding, cut in multiple places by shark pieces of metal. He looked up at what was left of his forces. A dozen died a second and only a few tribals managed to get near the enemy and engage. Seeing some of them lying on the ground, he forced himself up on a nearby spear.

"We surrender!", he shouted as loud as his lungs would allow him, "We surrender! Please!". Struggling to keep himself up, Kovah lowered his head, closed his eyes and prayed. Prayed that the enemy would be merciful after what they had just done.

His prayers would be answered as the enemy boomsticks feel silent. He didn't know how many of his men were left alive, but it was better than them all dying. Lowering himself on the ground he observed as the enemy tied the survivors up and even helped the injured ones.

One of them, his helmet bearing a red cross, approached Kovah and offered to tend to his wounds. Kovah nodded while sighing, his eyes fixed on the survivors.

"Thank you.", he muttered to the man healing him, "Thank you for sparing them."

The man nodded his head and continued his work. Kovah looked up into the burnt and ashed sky and wondered, 'What is this world coming to?"

End of chapter 13