Of skink and man

Tzu Dhok’u’s left eye, which was accustomed to revolve slowly and dementedly in random directions around its socket, suddenly stopped moving. It joined its more conventional counterpart in opening wide, as surprise and awe covered the old slann’s face.

“Leave me,” he breathed.

Zhat Tziki and his jibbering colleague Ini-Me’ni began the long descent back down the wizard’s tower, leaving the Mage Priest alone in the rickety, cone-roofed attic room at its summit. Wind whistled through bald patches in the tiling and stonework. The whole tower seemed to sway slightly.

Slowly, Tzu began to move about the circular room. Its contents, he knew, would be worth a fortune in any lesser civilisation still crass enough to use currency. But there was one item in particular to which he was drawn...

On the staircase, Zhat tried to make small talk.

“So, you read any good plaques recently, Ini?”

“You saying I’m fick?!” shouted the frenzied priest, making a skinny fist. His eyes were horribly bloodshot.

“Just asking, dear fellow,” said Zhat with a reassuring smile. “Personally, I brought several of my favourite plaques for some light deciphering on my downtime. Learned my lesson. On the last campaign, I forgot to bring anything to read, and it got pretty dull after a few centuries on the lifeless plains of Kaltobi, let me tell you. Oh hi there Ini-Go! Glad you could make it.”

The two priests reached the bottom of the staricase and emerged into the tower’s large entrance hall. Ra was there, prodding volumes among the dusty bookshelves, along with the rakish skink chieftan Ini-Go and his inseparable companion the hulking scar veteran Fez-Iq.

“Ini-Me’ni! My eh-spawn-kin!” cried Ini-Go when he saw them. He spoke with a thick Tlaxtlan accent, and stood alert and engaged at all times, sometimes hopping from foot to foot. He had a rapier at his side and a dark streak in the scales above his mouth. “Do you have six fingers on your right hand?”  

“Yes, brother.”

“Thank goodness! I heard they horribly maimed you in the battle. Tis my great misfortune that I was not there to protect you.”

“It was merely his mind that they maimed,” said Zhat, gravely, as Ini-Me’ni drooled a little onto the floor. “He had a heinous encounter with the orcish god Mork, from which he was lucky to have survived at all. Of course, it might have been Gork, it’s so hard to tell…”

“Mweeeenerrrrrghhhhh,” said Ini-Me’ni, ruefully.

“Do you hear that, Fez-iq!? That is the sound of ultimate eh-suffering. My heart made that sound when the five-fingered man killed my father.”

“Kill!” said Ini-Me’ni, his eyes lighting up.

“You don’t have a father, Ini-Go. You were spawned,” said Zhat.

“He was my local priest. An eh-spiritual father.” The chieftain took Ini-Me’ni by the arm, which swiftly gave him a nasty jab to the face.

Zhat left the two skinks to take care of each other and approached Ra Phee-Ki, who was looking puzzled. He was squinting a book that he held a few inches from his face.

“These...light leafy things. I do not understand them. The room is full of them, yet they seem to serve no purpose. They have not even been sharpened - I feel they would fail to wound even the measliest of warmbloods.”

“They’re not for fighting, Ra, they’re for reading,” said Zhat. “You remember reading, I told you about it on the way here. Like what we do with the plaques in the temples.”

“Ah yes, by looking at drawings you are capable of gaining new information for tactical advantage and the easier destruction of your enemies.”

“Well, yes, perhaps. But you can also read things that have nothing to do with fighting. One of the most beautiful plaques back home has several million words simply about the splendour of the jungle when it was created by the Old Ones.”

“And what do you gain from such...’reading’? It seems futile.”

“You gain all kinds of things, my friend. Reading has brought me some of the greatest joys of my life, and profound understanding of the world we live in. But these are gains of the soul. Not everything in life is fighting and pain.”

“Incorrect,” stated Ra. “I have fought all of my life, in thousands of battles over a span of dozens of centuries. All the world is fighting. Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is chanting something.”

“You don’t have to call me Highness, Ra: Zhat is fine. I’m not a stickler for titles like our friend upstairs. But in all seriousness, I think perhaps you would appreciate reading - it might broaden your horizons. Let’s take a look at this book, for example... let’s see, it’s about, well - oh my gods.”

Zhat opened the book Ra had been investigating, and suddenly realised he was staring at an illustration of the Naq itself.

“Ra,” he said a little breathlessly, “send for my acolytes, tell them to bring the ritual offerings here this instant. We could be onto the Naq itself.”

Ra’s eyes widened slightly, but he remained impassive. “As you wish,” he said, with a bow.

As Ra sprinted off, Zhat began reading voraciously, turning pages almost by the second. Every word brought him closer to his goal.

A little while later, Zhat’s temple officiants had arrived and set up a passable ritual circle in the large hallway.

“Right, well the book says that the Naq was taken to the east of these lands many centuries ago by a rampaging warband. The exact location can only be discovered through spilled blood. Bring in the sacrifice!”

Zhat never particularly enjoyed this part of his duties, but at least this time he would be killing a filthy orc they had captured, and he felt it went a little way towards revenge for what they had done to Ini-Me’ni.

“Erm, you might want to hurry a little,” whispered one of the acolytes, as Zhat shuffled around the circle, humming along to the winds of magic. “The spell has to be done before sundown tonight or we won’t get another chance for who knows how long.”

“Son,” said Zhat, eyeing up the young skink priest, “you rush a ritual man, you get rotten rituals.”

Finally he felt everything was in place, and he intoned the enchantment with all due reverence. Watching from the sides of the room, Ra, Ini-Go and Fez-iq could feel the air suddenly become electrified as magic began to suffuse the circle. The orc’s blood, which had been collected in a wide dish, began to ripple slightly. Shapes started to form and spread, becoming a map. Slowly an arrow started to emerge. Zhat crept closer, peering over the edge of the basin so he wouldn’t miss anything that was revealed. Just as he thought he could discern where the arrow pointed, there was a screeching sound, and a huge circle of light appeared in air, blasting outwards to reveal the serene form of Tzu Dhok’u. Blood, candles and skinks flew everywhere.

“Evening, gentlelizards,” said Tzu contentedly, as the sun sank below the horizon in the window behind him. “Sorry I didn’t knock - thought I’d use a teleport spell as I really couldn’t be having with all those stairs again. Now, who’s got my Itzi grubs?”

Zhat picked himself up from the floor slowly, and tried to wipe off some of the orc's blood.

“My Lord,” he said, with a clentched-tooth smile, “How simply wonderful to see you. And how clever of you to think of such an ingenious method of descent. Why, the stairs would have taken you whole seconds longer at least, even taking into account the fact that you’d be hovering downwards rather than walking.”

“Exactly, my good chap. And you’ll never guess what I’ve found up in the wizard’s attic!”

“Could it possibly some ancient and vital relic needed for the furthering of the Great Plan, my Lord?”

“Um, well not exactly.”

“Ah, then it must be essential information for fulfiling our quest to retreive the Naq’otek-yotl’queztl’ra’tzui-huan’chipotli’zaq-khan?”

“Erm, I rather doubt it actually. It’s a soul harvester!” Tzu held up a strangely formed pot triumphantly. “Look, you say the spell in here, point it at the soul you want to harvest here, and then you torment it with this little button here. How great is that!? I’ve been wanting one of these for millennia!”

Zhat’s smile didn’t budge. “How nice for you, my Lord. I’m so glad your investigations in this treasure trove of knowledge and wisdom have been so productive.”

“Thank you, priest. Now, I feel like another battle, see if we can’t put this little beauty to use.” Tzu stroked the ancient artefact of pure evil lovingly. “We still have those pesky elves to sort out; I think we should go pay them a visit, what would you say, Ra?”

“Actually, sir, we have word that the Naq lies in an eastward direction,” said the oldblood, “although we do not know its exact location due to reasons...beyond our power. The best course would be to send the full force of our army that way, as we may have to deal with Chaos encampments that we know scatter the region. Besides, the elves are too stong, Lord. We would never survive another encounter.”

“Nonsense! you’re just saying that because no one ever has! And how would going east help us exact bloody vengeance, eh?” Tzu’s spinning eye began to twitch slightly.

“I think Ra’s right, you know,” piped up Ini-Go, earnestly. “Send me, my Lord. My eh-skink army is fresh and ready for battle. We will destroy Chaos wherever we find them. I will lead them eh-swiftly to the Naq itself.”

There was a pause, and Tzu seemed to grow slightly blacker. Steam started rising off his bloated body.

“Am I going mad, or did the word ‘think’ just escape your lips?” he shouted, eventually. “You think I hired you for your brains, you miserable, vomitous mass!? And you! Ra! You want me to send you back to where I found you? Unemployed!? In Greenland?”

“My Lord, you do realise that you don’t pay any of us to be here? We’re just your loyal servants,” said Zhat in exasperation.

“Insubordination! Enough of this! I’m going to fight some elves and you lot can all stay behind. I won’t be taking any of your silly skinks, either. Only the biggest and most ferocious warriors are worthy of the majesty of Tzu Dhok’u. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll save you some prisoners for you to snack on. Have a nice wait!”

The slann flew towards the door, which exploded with a flick of his hand as he approached. Then he was gone. There were screams in the camp outside as he passed.

“Great,” said Zhat, rolling his eyes.

“I have to go after him,” said Ra.

“I’d leave it a little while.”

“Perhaps. But you were right, Ini-Go. Your army must go east to find the Naq. Zhat, go with him. I’ll stay with Lord Dhok’u and send troops to aid you when I can.”

“I will see you before long, my friend, I can feel it in my heart,” said Zhat to Ra as he went to follow the Mage Priest. “I still have to teach you to read.”

Ra turned at the door. “As you wish,” he said.

--

Ini-Go looked up and down the battle line. There were skinks and terradons everywhere, sprinting circles round the massive, unnatural creatures they had encountered on their road east. Every now and again, the beasts would catch some skinks or terradons unawares and crushed their skulls to dust, but otherwise his fast-footed army seemed to be getting the better of this engagement. Fez'iq was leading a charge away to the left. He turned to the troops behind him.

“Amigos, hit them in the eh-centre where they’re vulnerable. I have business of my own to conduct.”

Ini-Go had spotted a man on horseback in the middle of the field, who appeared to have five fingers on his right hand. Of course, many of them did, but perhaps this was the one who had killed his father. The skink sprinted up to the Chaos Sorcerer, who was in mid-incantation to Nurgle and didn’t see him coming.

“You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you!” cried Ini-Go.

“What?! What’s this?!” replied the dark wizard, turning uncomfortably in his saddle and looking round the battlefield for the source of the interruption. He was clad in six-inch thick spikey armour with skull motif, and was struggling to get control over his demonic, pitch-black steed. Then he looked down. “Whoever you are, you’ll pay for this, you warthog-faced buffoon! I’ll boil your skin for my stew!”

He made a mighty swing with his sword, but the skink was no longer there. Suddenly he felt a small stinging sensation on his other side as Ini-Go’s rapier slashed at his leg. A tiny ribbon of blood appeared. “I’ll do you for that!” bellowed the sorcerer. “Come ‘ere!”

“Float like a butterfly, eh-sting like a mix-tlek’clthon insect!” sang Ini-Go happily as he danced around the large man’s clumsy strokes. “I see you are using Botelli’s defence against me, ah!? So naturally you expect me to counter with Capo Ferro!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, you insane creature? Ow!” replied the man, as more tiny skin-deep cuts appeared on the exposed parts of his body.

“You’re good, I admit it!” smiled Ini-Go, still jumping about. But the Chaos warrior was no longer looking at him. He was looking at the huge, snorting figure of Mup’ha-Sa, a ten foot wall of muscle, steel-like scales and lethally sharpened horns, getting rapidly closer.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m eh-smiling?” shouted up Ini-Go, oblivious to the stegadon’s charge.

“Aaaahhh,” said the man, trying desperately to turn his horse around.

“It’s because I’m not left-handed! Ha-ha!” laughed the skink gleefully, tossing his sword to the other hand. The sorcerer kicked his horse into a gallop and hurried away. “Exactly so, you coward, run for your life!” cried the latter, jubilantly. He slowly realised he could no longer hear his own voice over the sound of the thundering hooves behind him. Mup’ha-Sa charged past in a storm of flying debris, overtaking the terrified Chaos champion and turning him into an inch-thick paste under his enormous weight.

“Yeah, take that!” said Ini-Go, a little less enthusiastically than before. “Fear the mighty fencing prowess of eh-skink chief Ini-Go!”

Get to the choppa!

Mists swirled ominously over the lands of Western Finchlea, as Tzu Dhok’u’s troops trudged tirelessly towards the elven encampment. Bleak, endless fields passed, mile after mile, under uniform grey skies. It would have sapped the spirits of lesser creatures.

Tzu bobbed up and down on his palanquin in what was, by slann standards, a very jolly rhythm.

“I love this kind of weather!” he called happily to Ra, who bestrode Reks a little ways away. “It’s my favourite kind of weather, after hurricanes and tempests, of course.”

“Sir, you’ve been in a good mood ever since we left camp, if you don’t mind my saying so. I feel I should remind you that defeating these elves will be no easy task, if the way they have fought so far is anything to do by. They destroyed an entire battalion of hardened Chaos warriors, my scouts tell me. Also, I’m not sure I recognise where we are any more. I fear we may be lost in the mist.”

“Unthinkable!” cried Tzu, merrily. “On the contrary, this mist is the perfect cover. We will take them by surprise and torture them until they submit to our will.”

“Uh…” began Ra, but stopped as a huge shape suddenly loomed up ahead.

“By the gods, lizard,” said Tzu, his tone changed to one of awe. “It’s the ancient tower of Amon Samon. Tales tell that the spirit of the great sorcerer Nikos dwells there still.”

“I know it,” said Ra, uneasily. “But we should be a hundred leagues south of here. We have strayed far off course.”

“Unthinkable!” said Tzu, again. “A slann is never lost. He is always precisely where he means to be. I obviously wanted to come here, so I could investigate the ancient ruins of Amon Samon, to see if there was anything there for the furtherance of my sche- I mean, of the Great Plan.”

“Someone’s been on the Lord of the Plaques boxset again,” interjected Ini-Me’ni, Tzu’s newest skink attendant, who had yet to have the proper terror instilled. “Also, I can totally hear wardrums away to the east.”

“You see! We are near the elven army. And they know we’re coming, which is exactly what I intended. We will meet them in the field and overwhelm them with our superior military strategies.”

Ini-Me’ni and Ra looked at each other.

“Sir, there might be one tiny miscalculation in your plans. Though of course the very essence of error is anathema to your perfectly honed intellect. I would, however, endeavour to suggest -”

“Elves don’t use drums, is what he’s trying to say,” broke in Ini-Me’ni. “They use horns. And harps and stuff.”

A distant, faint chanting sound of “WAaaaaaaagh” could be heard, getting closer. Tzu sat still and avoided the others’ gaze.

The mists parted. A sea of greenskins could be seen surging towards the lizardmen’s position.

“Orcs!” said Tzu, at last. “Perfect! This is exactly what I had planned for. I only wanted them to think we were off to fight elves.” He looked defiantly at the others, daring them to say a word to the contrary.

“Riiiight,” said Ra, eventually. “I’ll just form up the battle line then, shall I?”

--

Mood: Curious

Listening to: the chanting of temple rituals.

God most likely to sacrifice to: Tepok, god of Magic and Wisdom

Well, we have fought another battle, even if it wasn’t one we had ever intended. This time, the Old Ones saw fit to grant us a victory, praise Quetzl! We were set upon by a band of brutish orcs and their unsightly minions after going off course during foul weather.

The battle got off to a slow start. Our line moved steadily towards theirs, while they stood and confronted us. The big black ones just looked at us menacingly, while the green ones seemed to be jumping up and down, working themselves into a bizarre frenzy, occasionally punching one another and brawling in the ranks.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. On the right flank, goblins came bouncing out of nowhere on tiny mad balls of teeth and fury, which proceeded to devour a unit of unsuspecting skinks. On the left flank, enormous spiders surged towards our lines. One of them, a huge brute the size of a temple, scaled the entire tower of Amon Samon in one massive leap, and descended down the other side to set upon our other group of skinks. While the smaller spiders (merely the size of large wolves) were eventually put to flight by our chameleon scouts, who they had not noticed, our entire main contingent of saurus warriors had to be redeployed to deal with the big one - and even they were eventually destroyed by its ravenous fury.

At the same moment that all this happened, a huge hand appeared out of the heavens, lifting the enemy’s entire unit of black orcs to the far side of the battlefield, where they much surprised our smaller group of saurus, who were finally dispatching the last of the mad hopping creatures. Just as it looked like they would be overwhelmed by the new threat, the lumbering strides of Muph’a-Sa could be heard. His charge was like nothing I have ever seen. With a bellow, he plunged into the enemy ranks, scattering orcs every which way, and trampling dozens beneath his mighty feet. It was not enough, however. Their standard bearer managed to deal the stegadon a crippling blow, and his foolish, thrice-cursed handlers had forgotten to properly instil in him the spring-time mating fervour that would usually have kept him going at this time of year. He’s an old creature, and his libido’s not what it was 100,000 years ago.

Meanwhile, Ra Phee-Ki had given a mighty shout, and charged towards the bulk of the greenskins. Tzu Dhok’u’s bodyguard of elite Guardians were with him, meting out death to their foes as they went. The orcs were in a savage mood, shrieking and howling about something called “Da Choppa”. They gave as good as they got, and soon their enormous crude weapons were thick with the blood of our comrades. As we reached their lines, two of them unchained their giant leader, who had been stamping the ground and screaming insults at anyone and everyone who came near. His eyes were bloodshot, his mouth caked in foam, his voice like a stampede of thunderlizards. He came at us like a hurricane of muscle and weaponry - sadly for him, however, he had the poor judgement to take on Ra Phee-Ki.

--

“Hey, Boss Choppa!” said the orc holding the keys, with a nasty grin. “You wanna kill some lizards?”

“GRAAAGH!” said Choppa, too frenzied to form words.

“Boss, I heard dat big ’un over dere said your momma was a poncy elf.”

“I HATED MY MOMMA! I KILLED HER AN’ ATE HER BONES!” bellowed Choppa.

The smaller orc looked as his comrade, nervously.

“Right, boss. Well, he also said you is fick. An’ really bad at fightin’.”

Veins began pop out all over Choppa’s face. “LET ME GET ‘IM! LET ME AT ‘IM! I’LL EAT ‘IS EYES! I’LL CHEW ON ‘IS TAIL! I’LL MUNCH ‘IS SCALES! GRAAAAGGH!”

“Right you are, boss!” Standing as far back as possible, the orc leaned in and turned the key hastily. The savage warboss immediately reared up, scattering chains everywhere. The giant axe in his hands seemed to pump strength into him, and he swelled up to a terrifying size. He began to slice the air in front of him, his arms blurring as he got faster and faster, springing towards the oncoming oldblood on his carnosaur.

There was a blur as the three creatures met, and an earth-shaking cry of “EAT YOU!!!!!” that quickly ceased. As soon as it happened it was over.

Ra blinked and looked around. “Where did the big green fellow go?” he asked, puzzled.

“Ow,” said Reks, spitting out a giant magical weapon. “Axe not good to eat.”

“You ate the enemy general?” said Ra, a mixture of annoyance and awe in his voice. “Reks, that’s amaz- I mean, what have I told you about eating enemy officers before I get to have a proper fight with them? It’s just not sporting.” He looked up at the oncoming horde of green, who were furious at the death of Boss Choppa. “When it comes to these guys, on the other hand, you can have as many as you like. They’re just rank and file. Get ‘em, boy!”

--

Although Reks ate the the enemy “commander”, if you can call him that, before they got to have a proper fight (and also ate many other orcs, as things turned out), the Boss got his revenge later in the battle, when he incapacitated the carnosaur by escaping back out through its throat. By this point, however, the tide had already turned against his army, and he lacked the strength to do anything other than stumble off with them, chased by Ra, who was sorely miffed about what they had done to his steed.

Although the day was a big success, two things about the battle concern me. Firstly, the conduct of our revered Lord commander, Tzu Dhok’u. He spent the entire battle shrieking at the winds of magic, an insane gleam in his eye, as he brought down dark spells of death upon the enemy with a wild abandon. The pleasure he took in sapping their will and filling their minds with thoughts of doom and darkness was chilling to behold.

Secondly, I fear for my comrade, the young priest Ini-Me’ni, who had a terrible encounter with the enemy shaman during the battle. The shaman invoked their crazy god Mork (or possibly Gork), who personally arrived to psychically headbutt the poor skink. It is not something that should happen to any lizard. Not only is it horribly undignified, but it left poor Ini with terrible mental scarring, so that now he behaves almost like one of those rotten orcs. He begins to jump about whenever anyone mentions battle, is constantly insulting and punching reptiles twice his size, who treat him with a pity that just annoys him all the more. He often foams at the mouth and speaks of killing and fighting as if he were a kroxigor. I fear the poor chap will be a danger to himself and others, although his magical abilities appear undiminished.

Speaking of magic, the Lord Tzu has requested that I accompany him to examine the remains of this large wizard’s tower by which we fought our battle today. I am eager and curious to discover what ancient riddles lie inside. May Tepok guide my searches so that I don’t miss anything that will lead us on the True Way… possibly even towards the location of the Naq itself.

To kill a firebird.

Mood: Ashamed

Listening to: the gnashing of teeth and licking of wounds

God most likely to sacrifice to: Xokha, god of Stone, Strength and Duty

The calamity is so terrible that I can bearly bring myself to write of it. Still, at this time more than any I must remember my Duty to the Great Plan and the True Way of the Old Ones.

A multitude of our troops were sent to fight high elves, yet only a handful have returned. They were ready and waiting for us when we arrived. Our troops were mostly fresh and new to war - some of the saurus warriors were spawned barely 300 years ago - while theirs were elite and deadly. I have never seen any soldiers move so quickly or strike so true. Twas a terrible thing to behold, and I shudder to recall it. Still, some account must be made.

Our initial advance was orderly and well-judged. While the army was led by the mighty Ra Phee-Ki, the main block of warriors at the centre of our line was under the command of the ancient and noble Huan Dae’req-Shon, he who wears the enchanted Crown. While he wore it, no lizardman would dream of anything other than complete obedience, and would face an army of dragons before they fled.

On the left, dozens of worthy skinks attempted to harry the ranks of their vast cohort of horsemen, who were a sight awesome to behold. Unfortunately, they themselves were harried in their turn by enemy archers who were fortified in a nearby building, and many were stuck full of arrows before the battle was barely commenced. Our kroxigors made a... bold attempt to dislodge the archers, before being run down by a surprise charge from their cavalry.

***

“We could go fight der horsies,” said Hax, shifting the weight of his five foot club from claw to claw.

The three kroxigors regarded the “horsies”, with their rank upon rank of glistening muscles, glinting weaponry, glorious banners and grim-faced riders. The horsies looked like they could sweep aside an entire phalanx of pikemen without noticing.

After a few minutes, the lumbering reptiles managed to calculate the difference in numbers between the three of them and the multitude of knights on the left flank. They were also beginning to get a handle on the difference in length between the horsemen’s lances and their own weapons, hefty though the latter might be. Fearless and ancient warriors that they were, they knew a bad fight when it looked them, snorting and rearing, in the eye. Just then, a small hail of arrows flew from a nearby building, killing several skinks.

Quickly their spirits lifted. “I heard dere was shooty eleves in dat wooden...temple ting dere,” said Jax, on Hax’s right, pointing at a large, rustic cottage.  Non-religious buildings were still a tricky concept for many lizardmen. “Shooty elves don’t have dem really big horsies. Dey only has little arrows.”

“Dey probably outnumber us, all dose little, squishy pointy ears. If we was to go in dere and hit a few, it wood practically be heroic,” reasoned Nax, on the left.

Hax smiled, an expression that looked more painful than pleasant on his face. “Get ready boys. Dey will sing of dis day and de brave charge of the Ax brothers for tousands of years, I expect.”

The kroxigors bounded eagerly across the battlefield, staying well clear of the cavalry that was making short work of the few remaining hapless skinks. With a quick smack of his beloved “rock with spikes in”, Hax bashed down the door of the farm house wherein the elven archers were ensconced. To their great joy, the collapsing door crushed two of the elves behind it as it fell. More could be seen moving around upstairs.  The troll-like creatures leapt inside and ran to the staircase. Hax paused as something caught his eye.

“Hey, looks like dere’s some kind of string here, I wonder what it do-”. Stepping on the tripwire by way of experimentation, Hax was unable to finish his sentence. Before he knew what had happened, he suddenly found himself once more on the grass outside. He looked down at the enormous spear that was piercing his abdomen, and then at his two brothers who had been similarly knocked back through the door by the force of the elves’ trap.

Then he looked up at the rapidly closing faces of the approaching horsies, which were full of the light of battle, and the outstretched lances of their riders.

“Ow,” said Hax.

***

On the right flank, the skinks were set upon by a terrifying winged beast that I have hitherto only heard rumours of in the most learned books of beast lore - the Phoenix! It came out of the sky with a terrifying screech, and it was only by a death-defying charge from our cold one riders that the creature’s onslought was stopped.

Twas not enough, however. For our central and strongest portion of the army, that led by Huan, was met by the most fearsome elven warriors I have ever encountered. The fight was fierce but brief, and though many elves were slain, their corpses were far outnumbered by our own. Huan himself was the last to fall, a dozen elven spears sticking from his body. Even the lumbering counter attacks of the huge stegadon Mu’pha-Sa and the savagery of Reks the carnosaur could do little to turn the tide. Seeing the elves’ prowess, Mu’pha-Sa’s handlers lost their nerve and gently persuaded him - with red hot pokers and pointy bits of metal - to abandon the battlefield. Even Reks and Ra saw the merits of well-ordered retreat.

***

With a mighty shout, Ra Phee-Ki and Reks plunged into the fray. Ra’s enchanted blade swung this way and that, slicing through armour and magical defenses alike as if through gossamer. His monstrous mount, meanwhile, idly crushed several warriors with a small flick of its tail.

“Forward lizardmen, we have these warmbloods now!” bellowed Ra. “For the Old Ones! For Lustria! With me, my saurus!”

Ra paused, and suddenly noticed how little heed the elves were paying him. He looked around.

“My saurus?”

All was quiet behind Ra - nothing was to be seen but  a sizeable heap of reptilian bodies where moments earlier a huge cohort of saurus warriors had been engaged in thick melee. An elf carefully pulled his halberd out of the last of lizards and rejoined its ranks. Slowly, the ranks turned to face Ra, fire in their eyes, weapons held ready.

“Gah’mak,” muttered Ra. “Stupid newbies. I have to do everything myself these days. Come now, Reks, we’ll do this the old fashioned way. Kill, boy! Kill!”

Reks swallowed the last of the elf he was chewing and looked up at Ra sheepishly. “Ruh-ruh. Swords. Sharp!”

“Oh, sharp you say, you big wet mammal! You’ve gone soft in your old age! What happened to the Reks who built a mountain of skulls in Bel Allad? Who ate the entire shrieking horde of Vlad the Eccentric? Those pointy ears aren’t the only ones with sharp swords, you know - look at this!” Ra waved his magical Blade of Realities around in front of the carnosaur’s eyes. The weapon was said to have been forged by the gods themselves in the early days of the world, and left a shimmering trail as it moved. “This is the sharpest sword in existence! Come on, Reks! We can take- ...bugger.”

In his battle-hungry agitation, Ra lost his grip on the Blade of Realities, which flew through the air and stuck point-first in the turf, directly in front of the elven captain. The world stood still for a few moments. Then, without a word, the elf hefted the sword, and his entire unit surged towards the unarmed oldblood.

“Rrrun?” said Reks.

“Aha. Well, yes, given the circumstances, I think a tactical retreat in this case may be prudent.” He paused. “Hm, maybe I wasn’t clear. RUN LIKE THE FOUR WINDS, BOY!” With that, the pair bounded off into the distance.

***

For my own part, it was all I could do to stem the tide of high magic that flowed through the enemy’s spellcasters. Fortunately I came equipped with the Cube of Darkness, which my Lord Tzu Dhok’u had acquired from goodness knows what nefarious source, and had graciously lent me. It proved indispensable in covering our retreat from the barrage of magic missiles aimed in my direction, as I managed to suck all the magic out of the surrounding area. I was also aided by the honourable H’pui, my skink acolyte, who, other than accidentally unleashing the untrammeled forces of raw magical energy from his mind at one point, mostly performed admirably.

Perhaps the most honour from the battle should be given to Sparqi the salamander. Sadly, all the other salamanders were late for the portal trip, so he is our lone fire-breather on the campaign. A sickly and irritable creature at the best of times, he has been pining for his Lustrian jungles ever since he arrived. When the battle first started, he immediately devoured one of his handlers in protest at the treatment, but afterwards he calmly went about his own business, ignoring the manifold missiles shooting past him and casually wandering through the heat of the battle as if strolling through his leafy home. His occasional belches of scorching napalm succeeded in reducing an entire elfen unit to so much ash, without which the battle would have fared even worse than it did.

To say that the news of the defeat will displease Tzu Dhok’u is to say that a thunderlizard is a little on the large side. I do not envy Ra at this particular juncture, who has gone with H’pui to see him, but I will sacrifice one of the sheep that we half-heartedly plundered on the way home and pray that Xokha gives them the strength to do their duty.

§ Zhat Tziki, High Priest §

***

“UNTHINKABLE!” shrieked Tzu Dhok’u, the slann Mage Priest, tongues of light blue flame bursting from his head. “You! This is YOUR fault!” he continued, with one trembling finger stretched towards the hapless H’pui.

“My honourable, most glorious Lord,” began H’pui.

“Enough, I will not hear any mewling excuses!” cried Tzu. There was a brief tension in the room, and suddenly the skink’s brain exploded. Ra Phee-Ki stared in horror at the tottering body beside him as it gently collapsed.

“Hm. Well I guess that makes me feel a little bit better,” stated the slann, turning his attention towards the larger lizard. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself, Ra? Aren’t you supposed to be the great general around here? Do you have any excuses to offer for this...unacceptable outcome?”

Ra gulped. He knew there was only one thing for it.

“This was a vicious, cowardly and unprovoked attack by heathen warmblooded scum, my Lord. We were outnumbered ten to one, we fought bravely to the last man, but the uncivilised pretenders were too tricksy and cunning for us. The insult will never be forgotten by those of us who survived. We must exact swift and terrible vengeance!” He waited for his words to have the intended effect, and then added, “By the way, sir, I see there are now five whole stairs in the innumerable staircase. It’s beginning to look rather splendid, if I do say so.”

Tzu held him in his impassive gaze for some seconds. Ra held his breath. Finally the oversized toad pronounced judgement.

“Well,” he mused, “Have I not always said that the greater the temple, the greater the power of its lord?”

“Sir? I believe the saying is ‘the greater the temple, the greater the power of the Old Ones’, sir.”

“Ah yes, well you say pot’aih-tow, I say pot’ah-tow, isn’t that right? Very well, I have considered the full merit of your words and have weighed the wisdom of the various options open to me. And I have reached the well-formed conclusion, that the best course of action is to exact swift and terrible vengeance on the heathen warmblooded scum. But this time, I will go in person, to see it is done right. Now, be gone! And prepare me an army worthy of my majesty.”

“My lord,” said Ra, bowing quickly and sprinting out the door to freedom.