When Vaile and the three Beastmen entered the hidden base of the Combined Tribes. There was, of course, shock and confusion. However, the initial surprise of Dur’kor bringing someone that looked to be one of the Races into their secret encampment was almost immediately replaced by the shock that said being was, in fact, Vaile, the God of their Gods. This in turn caused a whole clusterfuck of other things to happen, including but not limited to the ‘Does’ all going into heat all at once, the ‘Bucks’ all getting worked up by the mixture of Vaile and the Does’ musk and Vaile himself wishing he had some way to block the overpoweringly rank scent of ‘Beastman in Heat’ fluids from assaulting his olfactory system.

Dur’kor seemed to grasp that Vaile was not at all aroused by the ‘erotic’ scents wafting through the air and quickly escorted him to one of the deeper parts of the cave system that the Combined Tribes called their temporary home. Blaer also tried to avoid causing undue distress, but this was accomplished by launching several fireballs into the crowd of aroused Does in order to shoo them away and put a damper on their arousal. While Dur’kor acted in such a way to further the interest of his masters’ master, Blaer instead operated more on a principle of ‘Vaile is mine, not yours, so fuck off you damn mate-stealers!’

…

Vaile was once again in a position where he could not fully undress himself without people desiring to shag him coming out of the damn woodwork. The cavern he was now calling ‘home’ was far enough away from the rest of the Beastmen, but the simple act of disrobing was enough for his ‘Reversed Attractiveness’ perk to come into effect and ruin his day. After the third time he had been unable to get his shirt off without a bunch of does breaching the guards posted outside his room, Vaile admitted defeat and simply kept his clothes on at (almost) all times.

…

“I apologize, Mighty Vaile, for the actions of my kin.”

“I can’t blame you, Dur’kor, for your people acting based on their primal instincts.” Vaile replied, trying to lift Dur’kor from his kneeling position, only to have the massive Beastman return to the position immediately afterwards. “I just have to be more careful, that’s all.”

“Your mercy is great and overwhelming, Mighty Vaile. I pray that we meet the expectations you place upon us.”

“Yes, yes. Now please, we have things to discuss and we can’t exactly plan the reconquest of your ancestral lands if you keep kneeling like this.”

“Yes, of course.” Dur’kor responded, finally rising of his own volition.

“Now then,” Vaile said as he approached the war-room’s main table, “how exactly are we to go about this...? Yes, I think I see how we can win…”

This last sentence was something that piqued the interest of the Beastman Tribe Leaders and Great Shamans. What ingenious plan would the God of their Gods have in store that would win them the war?

Vaile looked over the mixture of Beastman and Werean-made maps and models, each painting a radically different picture of the situation at hand. Some maps were decades old, while others were made merely a few weeks ago at most. All of them had one thing in common, however, and that was that the Karnarous Forest was slowly but surely being removed from the maps bit by bit. As the forest shrunk, so too did the hiding and hunting areas of the Beastmen shrink. The Karnarous Forest was a magical forest, and if it wasn’t routinely pruned it would expand at a very fast rate all on its own until it reclaimed the area it once occupied.

What this meant was that any attempts made to further the retaking of the formerly Beastman-owned territory would have to involve laying waste to large swathes of Werean controlled areas multiple times over in order to allow for the magic forest to reclaim the area. However, the Werean had technology on their side, while all that the Beastmen possessed was merely a more feral magic system and greatly enhanced physical abilities. The obvious answer to winning this fight was something that the Beastmen had indeed been doing, but not nearly on the scale that they needed to.

Vaile spoke two words, but his declaration about how the war was to be won was misunderstood.

“Guerilla Warfare.”

“Gorilla Warfare?”

“No, it’s…” Vaile sighed, “Just let me explain it…”

…

“My people! Hear me!”

A crowd of Werean had gathered in their town square to hear the words of the mayor. They had done this song and dance a great many times before, but law dictated that, even when there was jack all for the mayor to talk about, it was something that had to be done. This time, however, there at least was something unusual for the mayor to announce.

“It is with great sadness and a very heavy heart that I tell you of the tragedy that has taken place just a short while ago. Merely five days prior, our boys and girls in the Hunters Guild were sent to deal with one of the mindless animal savages that haunt our kingdom. Last night, their bodies were discovered outside the town walls.”

Gasps and the sounds of grief filled what once was a silent crowd.

“Settle down, settle down. While the bodies of the fallen were indeed brutalized without mercy, just as the savages are want to do, they have been given a final rest. However, this slight must not stand! I implore all of you to increase your commitments to the Hunters Guild and to, in no uncertain terms, put your all into taming this feral land. If you see anything in the slightest bit suspicious, alert the Militia. If you suspect your neighbor to be a Beast-Lover, alert the Militia. If you believe your neighbor is hiding supplies that could be used to further the Hunters Guild’s efforts to destroy the feral monster-men in the Evil Forest, report them to the Militia at once! Only through vigilance can we defeat the darkness that threatens civilization! You are now dismis-!”

“Lord Mayor!”

Before the mayor could dismiss the other Werean, a runner from the town wall, which was less a true fortification and more a thin line of four-meter-high sharpened wooden poles, ran up and whispered something into the mayor’s ear. The floppy dog-ears of the mayor perked up at the words spoken to him and his tail began to retreat between his legs, a sure sign of fear.

“My people; listen well!” he yelled with a voice that only barely betrayed his panic. “The fields we have worked so hard to cultivate have been attacked by the savages! All men must join the Militia and help fight off the animal-people, or we will not survive the winter without making terrible sacrifices! To arms!”

…

Unbeknownst to the Werean, the murder of crows that was watching them in their square were under the control of someone with what the Werean would call ‘evil intent’. Their eyes and ears gathered the information that was unknowingly divulged to them, which was in turn sent to the being that bound them to its service. The massive owl-like raven-black wings of the Great Shaman Blaer flapped again and again, keeping the form of the large Beastman doe in the air alongside a healthy helping of magic.

With a Beastman-version of a smile growing on her face, Blaer launched a series of spells into the air. To the untrained observer, these would look to be signals, which they were, but as they were out of the usual 45 degree angle that most ground-dwelling animals looked around in, no one save those looking for them would have seen them. As the Werean Town Militia and the untrained fools who joined them marched into the wheat fields, they had no idea that they were bumbling headlong into a trap. With the wheat having grown taller than their heads, the Werean had no clue what they were walking into, and it would cost them dearly.