Fantasy The Land of Misfit Monsters |Defending an Innocent Kingdom|

[EccentricFantasy]

( Cpt. Soda Tetro SugaISAMOOD Hope you three like it.)

Location: Just outside the City of Fall, The Capital of the Kingdom of Fallen Leaves

Time: 3rd moon of the 3rd Season in the 1,245th year A.G.S. (After Great Separation)

Spoiler: Oozefoot, the Healer

The air was moist and chilly. As it normally was in this, the second coldest season of the year. Living in this middle kingdom was not easy at first. The bulk of the land there was wetlands and swamps. Lakes dot the area and the northern and southern edges of the kingdom are very harsh. The north being a frozen swamp wasteland and the south being little more than miles of hot, thick, black wattered wetlands where animals perished from being stuck. Eventually succumbing to the overbearing heat of the suns gaze.

That being said, still the people abandoned here survived and made a kingdom. Living in spite of the world wishing them dead. Most others would not have survived. The sheer will they had to live was something to be admired.

The Kingdom of Autumn Leaves was a strange one by the standards of the world. There was no class system and the monarch was elected rather than given by birthright. They accepted all the failures and freaks from society. Humans with scars that make them look ghastly, elves with black hair rather than blonde and even dragons with no wings. All the taboos of this world are welcomed in this kingdom. Even those who just want to live away from the expectations of the world. Men and women who fall for those of the same gender. Half breed, bastard children. The land was shared.

The Human Kingdoms and the Clans of Magic fought relentlessly. Massacring the kingdom in its infancy. Through sheer determination and stubbornness, the kingdom stayed alive until many more came, seeking the safety and ease this kingdom offered.

Normally, this kingdom would not last long, but both other sides fight within themselves just as much as each other. This is where the Kingdom of Autumn Leaves gets its advantages. With no social system and everyone having a voice and choice, no city felt the need to fight the other. Their army was unified, rather than having seperate armies based on race. Humans had much more numbers, the magic clans had more variety in fighting styles, but the middle kingdom thrived through teamwork and planning. Or most of the time they did.

Sitting in the tents outside the capital was a portion of the armed forces. Medical tents full to bursting and soldiers moving about, anyone well enough to help trying to remove some of the pressure on the Support Core. The most recent battle was....less than their best. The Support Core walked about the camps of quickly errected tents and cots scrambled about the grounds. Performing healing spells and laying Oozefoots Saporlings about so he could heal as well. Many forces were counting dead. Many commanders among that number. Only the commanders of the Heavy Infantry Core and Support Core remained. As did the mighty General of this allied armed force. Those were the last of the higher ups in the army. Even the strategist lay slain in the piles of bodies that were stacked along the outer wall the City of Fall, set to be cremated as soon as families could come retrieve them.

The capital city of Fall was a mass of spiraling buildings in the midst of a swamp and on the side of the lake, the smaller buildings crafted in the traditional style. Most of the people that called the middle kingdom home lived here. The buildings were impeccably crafted, but lichen, vines and other plants grew freely over the buildings. Most of these plants were kept since the Thallid people could turn them into medicine and food. The streets filled with markets where all those who call it home shopped and traded for goods. While the Thallid people called the swamps and wetlands home, they frequented the cities for supplies and traded the small fungul Saporlings to those who flavored soups or dishes with them and those who used them for potions or crafting. The streets large enough for even the giants that called this place home to move about freely. In the center was a willow tree surrounded by stones inside water, forming a sort of small river system. Here is where most Thallids go when they enter a city, as there is one in every settlment in the middle kingdom. However, the most well known of the Thallid people was not there.

Oozefoot was sitting in a meditative state. His walking stick laid in his lap as he focused. Despite the lose in numbers, there was still a great portion of the army alive. His hands folded in his lap as he took a deep breath. He didn't really know if it was breathing in a normal sense, given he was a sentient fungus, but all the same. His magic flowed, connected to each of his Saporlings within a three mile radius of his sitting point and began to heal wounds of all who needed it. Cuts, gashes and bruises grew a lichen like moss and fungus over them. Wounds almost stitched up by the moss or fungus that was spread by the Saporlings as part of his healing spell. Once his spell was fully in place, he sat up straight.

Rising from his sitting position he moved into the commanders strategy tent. As he moved the fungus like growths all over his body waved like he was in water. Opening the tent he stepped inside. This tent was very nicely adorned with goldens crests of the kingdom, filled with the weapons and supplies of the commanders. Or in this case, former commanders. In the center there was a large center table. The table was made with a large map of the entire middle kingdom on it, more detailed area maps scattered across its dark maple surface. Boxes lined the side of the tent. Each filled with information on armies, logistics of their own armed forces, equipment and soldier numbers. This tent was the command center for the entire armed forces of the middle kingdom.

As Oozefoot came in, he saw Fynn at the table along with General Mestoph. Oozefoot, being the current oldest, as he always had been, of the commanders remembered these two well. The last general had Oozefoot watch Mestoph when he was a child. The half dragon giant knew him well. He remembered when Fynn arrived in the Kingdom of Autumn Leaves. A spunky Kobold to be sure, but Oozefoot could see that he had much weighing down on his heart.

He watched them grow just as he saw this kingdom rise from a mere collection of abandoned folk to the power it was this day. Oozefoot sighed, seeing the two children visibly deflated about this fight. If he knew them, and he did, he knew they both were waiting for the chastising that Oozefoot would deliver.

The Thallid commander wanted to yell and straighten them out. Call them idiots and hit them on the head with his stick for being stupid. However, he did not know what happened or how this all began. So he walked over, the earthy smell that permeated from him filled the tent. His body shifted to look at Fynn, then to Mestoph. With a shake of his mushroom cap he sighed "As far as I know, you two have done no wrong. That being said, when I arrived there were so many dead or injured. Including the five other commanders in this army. So, I will allow you to explain to me what transpired. Who will be brave enough to talk?" Despite him being far older than any other member of this army, thinking of Oozefoot as an old, weak man was a mistake only a fool could make. His magic ability alone was something to be feared, but factoring in his experience, father like attitude and the loyalty and respect the Thallid's showed him, he was more than just a threat. He was a force of nature, chosen by the Earth Primal itself. He looked between the two "Before I wither would be pleasant." There was no anger in his voice, but the stern nature of it showed he was not playing games.

 

[Tetro]

Cpt. Soda EccentricFantasy

Mestoph didn't speak while he and Fynn waited in the commander's tent. While some might be in shock at what had happened only a few hours ago, he wasn't. He was angry. Never in his life had he seen so many losses in a battle like this. They won the battle but were essentially decimated. But that isn't what burned him the most. What truly made his anger flare were the partially recovered scrolls that were before him on the table. Mestoph spent the better part of his time after the battle going over everything he could to find out what went wrong. First, Fynn went out of his way with his men to intercept what he thought was an enemy caravan. But it wasn't a simple human trade caravan, it was a battalion of reinforcements for the humans, and a powerful one. Second, their strategist, who Mestoph watched get swallowed into the ground along with their beast rider commander, had given the wrong information to the support core commander, Oozefoot. And third, the assassin core hadn't properly informed Mestoph of the incoming army from the West that forced them to fight on two fronts.

A string of mistakes made by dead men, and a proud dragon. Mestoph looked over at Fynn, happy at the very least that his friend was alive. The happiness faded when Oozefoot stepped into the tent. Mestoph grabbed the ruined scrolls and parchments, crumpling them up and burning them, letting them turn to ash in his hands before he set the remains on the corner of the table. He couldn't bear to look at any of it anymore. He stared at Oozefoot, waiting for the commander to speak. The tension in the air was thick enough to feel, and while Mestoph was able to keep his cool externally, he was in no way calm.

"As far as I know, you two have done no wrong. That being said, when I arrived there were so many dead or injured. Including the five other commanders in this army. So, I will allow you to explain to me what transpired. Who will be brave enough to talk?"

Brave enough to talk? Allow us to explain what transpired? Mestoph's muscles tensed. He wanted to put the commander in his place for speaking like that to his superior officer. But he didn't. He understood why the Thallid spoke the way he did.

"Before I wither would be pleasant."

"You'd do well to watch how you speak to your general, commander." Mestoph finally spoke up, standing up straight and look at Oozefoot. "What transpired was a battle without our support core." There was a part of him that wanted to blame Oozefoot. He wanted to blame it all on the fact that their support core was too far out to get to them fast enough. But it wasn't Oozefoot's fault. The Thallid followed orders to the letter just as he always did. Deciding to explain a bit more, Mestoph continued, "a few of our commanders made some mistakes. Our strategist gave you the wrong information, our commander of the assassin core failed to thoroughly scout the area, and Fynn picked a fight with a human battalion. Then, a large army of the Western kingdom came and hit him from the opposite side." Mestoph pointed on the map with his finger where things happened and from which directions each army came. "I maneuvered our army to assist Fynn and his men. Only an hour ago did I learn why you and your core weren't there to provide support. Our now dead strategist gave you orders that were meant to go to the assassin core."

 

[SugaISAMOOD]

Jack ran around healing others or pronounced them dead. If the person is dead he records it and sends someone to take them out. It has been a hectic day and never gotten a chance to grab some food as he is starting to feel hungry. He trys to make the ones injury as comfortable as can be. He wonders why they never sent them in sooner.

 

[Cpt. Soda]

The black scaled kobold stood to the side of the table, standing atop his singed iron shield to look over the table. He could still smell the strong stench of blood now fermenting into the battleground dirt he had wrought. The blood and burn marks from the conflict still adorned Fynn’s battered steel plate. His bright yellow eyes stared off forward into the distance, lost in a trance.

Fynn felt more anger than sadness, anger pointed specifically to him. Five commanders, dead. Why? The thought bounced across his mind as the Thallid known as Oozefoot entered. He snapped out of his daze though his stare remained forward, the anger he felt kept his blood at a boil. Fynn was a relatively new commander, having only been in the position for a little more than three years, yet he still knew of Oozefoot’s nature. He had definitely earned the respect of his kin, if not more, and cared about the entirety of the kingdom. That was probably why Fynn didn’t snap at Oozefoot when speaking.

As Mestoph recounted the events for Oozefoot, Fynn’s mind shifted to going back over his actions. How he managed to lose a third of his men and end up with half of the core injured. He remembered moving along a treeline at the helm of his men, drinking. Drinking. Fynn blinked, the word repeating in his mind. It soon turned into feint murmurs by Fynn, his lips pulling back to reveal his yellow teeth. The murmurs ended in: You god damn drunk.

It wasn’t the strategist fault for sending the wrong info, the blame didn’t lie with the lack of reconnaissance, nor did it lay upon the shoulders of Oozefoot. It was Fynn. If he had just seen that the trade caravan was an entirely armed military force, he could’ve prepared for a tough conflict. He would’ve sent runners sooner to alert the rest of the army. If his vision just wasn’t obscured in his own arrogance then maybe a third of his men would still stand to wave a banner. Maybe the other commanders would be standing at this table now.

As Mestoph finished retelling the events of what had occurred, Fynn’s yellow eyes turned towards Mestoph. “This loss was because of me, not because of Oozefoot’s absence. I picked the fight, I failed to alert the rest of Autumn about enemy forces, and I misjudged the human force.” Fynn looked down to the maps over the table, wiping the dried blood of his comrades from his snout. His snout now turned to a gnarl. “The worst part is now we might have war on the horizon. Do we know who the hostile forces belonged to, General Bighorn?”

Fynn was never one for formalities, even in the current situation. Usually he called those he knew nicknames, never having really called Mestoph ‘sir’ or ‘general’. That said, Fynn still respected Mestoph, though his disconnection on a casual basis with the troops was a bothering trait. Mestoph was a great general and knew his job well, even if he needed to find a dame he could let some tension go with.

 

[EccentricFantasy]

Tetro Cpt. Soda

"You would do well to remember exactly who it is your trying to claim superiority over child." At first Oozefoot was clearly angry, the fungus protrusions all over his body waving wildly, something they did as he was mad. However, he quickly calmed himself and sighed "It's like you forget that despite my lower rank, it is only because I never wanted a higher rank. Do well to remember that youngling." he then walked around the table, stopping next to Mestoph and looking up at him.

"Never forget that you are general partly due to my recommendation to the queen. I saw a strong, willful boy back then. I have never doubted you. I have shown you the respect you have earned. Do the same for me." With that he gently tapped the half giants arm and moved over to Fynn. He placed a hand on the dragons shoulder "You are a hot headded fool. You let your pride outway reason and logic, but one mistake does not diminish a lifetime of good. Never forget that you have done much for the middle kingdom. A mistake is merely a mistake."

Oozefoot sighed and shook his head. He was not upset. Mistakes were made and he understood that a lot of it was out of his control. They did what they could given the situation "The lloses, though tragic, will not impede us too much. This is why the monarchs of old created the reserve units. Though it still angers me that so many of my family and friends have died." His grip on his stick tighted as he thought. He and the last remaining higher ups needed to handle this without further incident.

He took a breath. Taking a moment to think before sighing "My core is the only one that came out totally unscathed. OOnce the human discover this, word will spread quicky and a mass of humans will march towards our land." he points the end of his stick to the weakest known boarder on the eastern edge of the kingdom "This is our vital point. Until the monarch names the new generals and the reserve armies arrive, we need to care for this spot. Care to give suggestions?"

 

[SugaISAMOOD]

Finally getting a break from the carziness of the day. He heads over to the kitchen tent to grab some food. It may not look good to the people outside the army but it taste better than it looks. He sits under a tree on the outside of the camp. Eating he watches everyone go about their work happy that he gets a short break even though he will normally say no to a break as he is passionate about his work.

 

[Cpt. Soda]

Fynn glanced between the two obviously intelligent and tactically minded individuals. He just grunted, partly out of anger but also out of clairvoyance. He took Oozefoot’s words with a grain of salt. A lifetime of good. Wouldn’t that be something. The kobold hopped upon the table, letting his iron shield clatter against the ground of the tent. He was still fuming but tried to at least direct this energy towards something productive. He tried to think of who he had left; maybe fifteen hundred battle ready soldiers? That’s not even including capable leaders or how many officers he had left.

Fynn’s specialty was defense, having gained the majority of his renown from outlasting sieges which any normal commander would have cracked under. Partly this was because he used to be the one bringing the hammer down, but also because he had an adept understanding of what ‘hold the position’ really meant. Fynn looked to the section where Oozefoot had directed. He started to form ideas of how to defend the border, though let the fungal mound and horned half-giant bicker about the plan. After all, that was their job not his. If they needed Fynn’s opinion they’d ask for so, and if not, well, Fynn had always been more of an improviser then a planner.

He thought of having what paladins remained be mixed into the main battle front so Fynn could use them as flanking shields or better leadership scattered throughout the frontal shield line. Obviously whatever he would do would depend on the terrain the border had. For now, Fynn let the two tactical minds talk with each other while he picked the dirt and dried gore from his armor, his bright yellow eyes radiating dimly outwards.

 

[Tetro]

EccentricFantasy Cpt. Soda

Mestoph let Oozefoot speak, noticing how visibly he got angered at Mestoph's remark. The old Thallid had wisdom to him that could calm even Mestoph when spoken aloud. This was no easy thing to accomplish, as Mestoph was known to be untamably aggressive due to his dragon blood.

"This is our vital point. Until the monarch names the new generals and the reserve armies arrive, we need to care for this spot. Care to give suggestions?"

When Oozefoot asked his question Mestoph immediately flashed a slightly evil grin. He composed himself but kept a smirk, "I'm glad you bring it up. Because it furthers my point, as your general," Mestoph walked over to the corner of the tent to two sacks he had carried with him from the battle field. Grabbing them, he brought them over to the table, setting them down on top of it. He reached into one and pulled out a severed head, setting it on the sack so as to not soil the table, "this, was a very valuable commander of the human army. He was apparently one of the top generals. And this," he reached into the other sack and pulled out a charred and barely recognizable head of an elven woman. The decorated helmet the elf had worn was now melted to her flesh. He put the head down next to the other, "was a very noble lady. While her face could be of any elf, her helmet is what lets us know that she belonged directly to the court of the Western Kingdom. Our assassin core was able to provide us with good enough information at least before they were wiped out..."

He set both heads back onto the ground in their respective sacks. He looked back to Oozefoot, "I single handedly turned the tide of a two front battle with no support core, a drunk commander, all while out numbered and outmatched in every respect. It takes more than a fatherly heart to win a war, commander. So, unless you believe you are more suited than I to win battles then you will speak no more of superiority."

"As for the plan," he walked over to Fynn and put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Fynn is going to take his men, once they have recovered, and decorate the border with the bodies of the humans we have defeated. And right in the center will be the head of the human general for all passing armies to see. After the battle, I released the surviving humans to go home and spread the word of the terrors that lay in wait dare they enter our lands again." After explaining the rather crude plan Mestoph moved over to stand back in his original spot. "If all goes well, morale will plummet for the humans. Word will spread of the strength and might of our kingdom's army. The last thing the humans would want to risk is having us join the Western kingdom in an offensive. That should at least buy us some time. If not, then we send the head of the elf to the kingdom in the West. We'll make it seem like it was the humans who sent it to gloat about their victory over both of our kingdoms. While we are not allies with the west, they hate the humans more than they hate us. And upon receiving the little gift they're sure to turn more of their attention to the humans than us."

Mestoph was rather proud of himself for his foresight and planning. "We won the battle. Yes, we suffered heavy losses, but it was a victory nonetheless. I left no survivors from the Western army, so we can have them believe we lost the battle along with them against the humans. While at the same time letting the humans believe it was a complete victory in our favor. Either way, we have time and we potentially have the West focusing more on the humans than us. All we need to do now is fortify our defenses and use our collective 'defeat' with the West as a negotiation tactic."

"So, what do you two think?" With the strategist and most of the other commanders dead, Mestoph would now have to rely on Oozefoot and Fynn more than ever. As flawless as the plan seemed there was always room for error. Mere hours ago Mestoph and the entire army of the Kingdom of Autumn Leaves experienced that truth harder than ever before. Mestoph, despite the front of confidence and pride, felt worse than anyone. As impressive as it was to win that battle he still lost most of his army. The army that his father and his father before him commanded directly. It made Mestoph rethink many things, including what a 'victory' truly was. Now he would be more careful than ever going forward.

 

[EccentricFantasy]

Tetro Cpt. Soda SugaISAMOOD

"I think you are an arrogant fool." The old Thallid shook his head as he stepped towards the general "It may take more than a fatherly attitude to win wars, but it takes more than just brawn that outweighs your brain!" he reached up and hit Mestoph with his stick, right on the head, just as he did when the general was a child "Won't you think for once!? If those two are as important as you say, then both opposing armies will be looking for revenge! WE are only able to keep up guard thanks to our teamwork. If both armies come at us at both sides with full force, we will be slaughtered. Especially given our current situation!" He sighed and turned away "You disappoint me Mestoph. Sometimes I swear that the Sun Primal your so proud of fried your logic away."

With a shake of his head Oozefoot turned to walk away "Your plan is sound for one of a million possibilities. This is why I tried to teach you to think before you act." Looking back between the general and fellow commander, it was hard to tell what he was feeling. Given that he was a Thallid and had no real facial expressions to read, but there was an air to his position now. It was radiating pure disappointment. Finally, he looked to Mestoph "What point is there to winning if all those you fight for die in the process?" He then starts moving towards the exit "Try to think up a plan that will cover both boarders. I will send a support core member with you, but my core will stay here with the Thallids to ensure the capital does not fall." he then left the tent.

Stepping out into the chaos of the camp, he looked about. His spell was still working. His Saporlings healing oone and moving to another. His officers saluted him as he stepped up "Find me Jack. Tell him Commander Oozefoot is sending him as a messenger to the Support Core with Commander Fynn and the Heavy Infantry Core." As the officer left, he sat back down, laying his stick in his lap. Slowly he returned to his meditation to keep his mass healing in effect.

 

[Cpt. Soda]

Fynn watched as General Bighorn and Oozefoot exchanged words. His gaze grew into a slight chuckle, teeth grinding between each other through breaths. As Oozefoot left, Fynn moved over the table looking over Mestoph rather then the map. “You two seem like an old married couple. Funny to watch.” Fynn now looked down, his half metallic tail gesturing to the locations along the border. “You want to hold these points? Give me the Paladin core and what remains of the artillery, I’ll form a consolidated frontline over the valley divite and funnel them into the brunt of my forces. Paladins protect the flanks and artillery suppresses any hostiles trying to bypass the upper portion of the valley.” Fynn spit between his nasty jaws a bit of blood and snot right onto the position.

“The rest of the army can bolster whatever the hell is needed, but I suggest putting Oozefoot at the helm of the Archer, Assassin, and Beast rider core until new commanders arrive.” Fynn’s half armored tail dragged by the tip in a semi-graceful outline of the borders marsh-like terrain. “If we’re expecting a large army, then the brunt of their forces will be through plains and minor forests. The Assassin core should watch the marshlands, with some of Oozefoot’s support core as foot soldier backup. If anyone is suited to take out flanking battalions moving through the marshes, it’d be the Assassin core.”

Fynn’s half curled grin went dark after a moment, looking up from the map and to Mestoph. “All jokes aside, the best chance to defend against an actual army is nothing short of a miracle.” Fynn gestured with his right hand to the bordering lands, his nostrils flaring out as he lowers himself towards the table he stood upon. His hand dragged across the terrain, “If they’re attacking Autumn with an actual army, it’s not going to be one time. This is the start of war, and we need allies. I know I can hold a vital point, but the rest of the army?” Fynn clacked his teeth together and his voice grew grim with exasperation.

“You think a couple fucking peasant level footmen from reserves are going to hold against knighted humans?” Fynn exhaled, knowing Bighorn might be taking this in an aggressive tone, but at least his point would get across. “We lose one front in the oncoming conflict, we lose the entire frontline. We have a day, maybe two, to prepare for this shitstorm and the only other kingdom that might help us within reach are the Thallid.” Fynn’s eyes turned to glance over his shoulder, “And the only person here they’d listen to isn’t exactly happy with us.”

 

[Tetro]

Mestoph rubbed his head after Oozefoot left the tent, not responding to the old Thallid. He listened to Fynn's plan in silence, nodding occasionally. "The only person here they'd listen to is a grumpy old Thallid. Oozefoot is powerful, he could hold the Eastern border with his Thallids without any help from us. But he doesn't have the stomach for war and the losses it comes with like you and I do. He's no dragon. He would sooner heal a dying army than use his own to combat the enemy killing it." Mestoph crossed his arms and took a deep breath before sighing.

"I know as well as you how ferocious humans can be when united against a common enemy. I don't expect our reserves to stand a chance against the East, which is why my plan involved getting the West off our backs. That's why I am letting you take full control of the Eastern front with Oozefoot. You got us into this mess and I'm going to give you a chance to help get us out in a blaze of glory. This is the start of direct war, something I know none of us has been through before. But I know we'll come out alright."

"As for me, I'll handle the West. If I leave now I can reach them before the prisoners I released can reach the East. Hopefully, by the time the humans reach our border, I'll have the West charging right back at them, past us, looking for blood. No miracles needed, just good timing and a smooth tongue." He grinned and reassured Fynn. "Do as Oozefoot says from here on out. You can work out your plan with him while I focus on the West." He reached down to pick up the sack that held the human general's head in it, handing it to the kobold. "But, I don't care what anyone says. I want this head, and all the human bodies from the battle to be front and center on the border. Flay them, boil them, open them up, and spread them across the dirt, I don't care. I want it to be a sight that turns stomachs."

 

[SugaISAMOOD]

Jack had fallen asleep on his break under the tree on the outside of the camp. His breathing quickens as he relives his brothers death."No no no!" He thrashes around. As many don't know he always has the same flashback if he ever fallen into a deep sleep. Luckily he's far away enough to not cause a disturbance.
EccentricFantasy

 

[Cpt. Soda]

A sight that turns stomachs. Fynn grinned widely, placing the sack onto his right side belt loop. “That I can do.” The kobold hopped off the table, gripping the fallen over iron shield in his left hand as his grin turned to a feint gnarl. “I’ll work with the wise lump of spores to deal with the front. Doubt he’s in the mood for negotiations right now not revolving around hitting our heads with a stick, but I’ll see what I can do.” Fynn then turned towards Bighorn, walking backwards with a gesture forward from his right hand. “And maybe while you’re out blow some of that built up steam off with a dame or two?” Fynn gave a toothy chuckle as his tail whipped the tent open, walking backwards through it. “I know a fine elf if you ever need a pick-me-up!” And with that, the kobold exited the tent, spinning around to the chaos of the camp.

Fynn moved through the chaos, asking a nearby officer where Oozebrain was. After giving a few updates for accountability and rearmament, he moved to Oozefoot’s meditative spot. As he approached, he gave a wave with his right hand, his left still adorning the solid iron shield. “So, I’ve got good news, bad news, and even more bad news; which do you want to hear first?”

 

[EccentricFantasy]

Cpt. Soda Tetro SugaISAMOOD

As Fynn left the tent, guards entered from the back. They opened the curtain and in stepped a woman. A woman all knew. She was the current monarch of the middle kingdom. Queen Havista.

The queen had magic of the Star Primal, meaning her ability to move through the kingdom without being noticed was incredible. No one quite knew her age, but they knew she was from an ancient witch line. She, just like Oozefoot was connected to 3 of the Primal Forces. Stars Sun and Moon respectively.

Upon entering the tent she looked at Mestoph "It would appear you are disregarding your elders advice, choosing to listen to your own pride rather than experience." she sat down in the Generals seat. Waving her hands, blue and purple mist like apparitions filled the tent. This blocked others from hearing inside or entering the tent. The graceful woman looked at Mestoph with a glare "You are an egregious, self rightous, prideful, berserker Mestoph! Your actions could doom this kingdom all over pride! Do you know who you may have just angered?"

Spoiler: Queen Havista

Oozefoot sighed as he heard Fynn's voice. He was reaching his limit with these pridful dragons. After a moment he stood up and looked at the Kobold "I am assuming something idiotic and not well thout out. Based on a manly measuring contest rather than whats best for the people." Oozefoot turned and signalled his officers to keep working as he waited for the other commander to answer. Other officers still looking for Jack.

 

[Tetro]

Mestoph punched his fist against the table and glared at the Queen, "I did not do a single damn thing but salvage the situation caused by a drunkard Kobold that you royal bastards put into this army. What would you have me do? Sing him a lullaby and tell him everything will be alright? Get on my knees and kiss each ass that passes by me so that no one's feelings are hurt? Execute Fynn? Or maybe, you would have me get on my knees and beg for the forgiveness of Oozefoot? An old and pretentious mage who cries over every single blade of grass lost in a battle! I am open to ideas because so far no one has given me anything but insults that are far from warranted." He took a dagger and carved out a portion of the map where the battle took place, stabbing the dagger into the table and pointing at the mark on the map, "I scorched that entire battleground to save as many lives as I could. While you and your aristocrats hide behind your walls I am the only one making the tough decisions! I had to stand there and watch every single man and woman I held dear die before my eyes and see my family's legacy burn to ashes!" He flipped the table with one hand as if it were plywood, letting it crashed into the other chairs.

He finally took a breath, never taking his eyes off of the queen that sat before him. Images of commanders and soldiers alike being carved, cut, crushed, flayed, consumed, buried, burned, frozen, shocked, poisoned, and impaled filled his mind. The screams of pain and cries for help were as fresh as an open wound and stung Mestoph more than any cut he had ever taken by a blade. "Oozefoot has not given anyone advice. All he has done is criticize and try to pin blame like an idiotic child. I told him my plan and instead of simply commanding him to go along with it I left the topic open for discussion. And what did he do? Did he give council? Did he submit his own plans or ideas? Did he even acknowledge any details of my plan? No, he called me an arrogant fool and attacked my character. In case everyone has forgotten I saved our army from being completely wiped out! And if you as queen stand behind such actions then no amount of years on yours or his shoulders will save this kingdom from ruin." The general was doing his best to keep himself from completely losing it, but to have the queen herself come in to defend Oozefoot's words of ridicule and criticism made it difficult. He was a warrior, a fighter. Being half black dragon, caring for others simply wasn't in his nature the same way it was in Oozefoot's. There were facts of life and war and those who refused to see those facts didn't get as much respect from Mestoph. That's how he coped growing up when dealing with the occasional overly emotional soldier or aristocrat.

 

[Cpt. Soda]

Fynn walked a bit forward, looking over the wise mound of spores with his dimly glowing yellow eyes. “Good news is we are going to be in control of the eastern front while Bighorn works on the west.” Fynn’s shield dropped to the ground, giving a heavy thunk as it fell onto its side. His right thumb went over his shoulder, pointing behind him. “Bad news is you need to go talk to your spore buddies and get some reinforcements. Without them, well, neither you nor I can be in two places at once.” Fynn’s tail jutted around to curl underneath him as he sat atop the iron shield. His hands now rested on his knees while talking to Oozefoot.

He let out a small huff, the light from his eyes dampening slightly.“Even more bad news is; Bighorn wants effigies carved around the perimeter for a fear tactic. And don’t get me wrong, it might work.” He gestures to his chest where his unit insignia laid partially burned off. “But if we’re fighting someone like Dorfus?” He chuckled lightly, yellow teeth glaring out between each breath. “It’ll just give them a reason to show no mercy.” His grin went low as his eyes drifted down some. “I learned that a long time ago.”

The kobold raised his head, affirming his voice with what confidence he still bore. “I can draft the defense plans, execute them damn well too, but even with the marshlands funneling the main battle force to come, we don’t have the manpower to hold them off. The reserves aren’t going to be enough, paladins need to protect the flanks, and my core isn’t even 2,000 ready. For us to have a decent chance at surviving the battle to come, we need the Thallids.” Fynn lifted his tail from under him, pointing it to Oozefoot. “And you’re the only one they’ll listen to.”

Fynn now went lax, his snout hitting up a bit so his eyes can meet Oozefoot’s head. “I’ve seen this crap before, full out war. I know you’re a caring person, someone who’s wise enough to accept casualties. But please,” Fynn’s voice grew damp, somber, “Let me take charge of this front. I know how they’ll hit, why and where. My chain of command is ready for mobilization, I know how to outlast the invasion soon to come. But we need allies, you know Bighorn isn’t going to get them, he doesn’t have the personality for it.” His eyes glanced over to the officers nearby, “And I need every officer I can get my hands on for this to hold out.”

Fynn now looked back to Oozefoot. “We get your people to help us, we’ll live to see next week. If not,” The iron tipped tail point jagged across Fynn’s scaled neck. “Well, you know.”

 

[SugaISAMOOD]

Jack wakes up and his ice creates a ice wall around trapping him inside. He can do do more than just heal with his ice he can create stuff or make it cold around him. If anyone looks up at the hill outside the camp they can see Jack's little ice wall with him inside. He hurries his head in his knees. EccentricFantasy