“King! King!” an ‘elite’ Grekel Warrior screamed as he rushed into King Grekel’s larger-than-average shanty. “King, wake up!”
The offending Grekel go a slap to the face as their King awoke.
“What?! Can I not have some respite in my dreams for once?!” Grekel, King of the Grekels cried, obviously very unhappy that he had been roused from one of the few times where he could avoid the horrors of his situation.
“A sow has snuck into the city and is killing us! Come help us beat it and breed it!”
Grekel narrowed his eyes, scowled, and went back to bed. If these was someone carving a bloody swathe through ‘his people’ then they could go ahead and do so.
Hell, he would love it if they came here and put him out of his misery. That damned ‘God’ had told him that he now belonged to it, but in his heart he was still a noble servant of the True God, the savior, messiah, and redeemer Himself.
He knew that if and when he died, his God would fight that devil who called itself a God for his soul and win. All he had to do was wait patiently for the next day to rise, and then he could lead these abominations to what hopefully would be a massacre of the Grekel peoples. Surely that would redeem his stained soul in the eyes of the Lord.
It was then that another Grekel stormed its way in and commincated that the ‘sow’ was already long gone by the time that a group of warriors had arrived to aprehend and/ or kill the woman, which did put a smile on Grekel’s face as he tucked himself in for bed again,hoping to put the sights and sounds and smells he had been routinely forced to deal with out of his mind until the sun rose completely.
…
“You are sure of this?”
“Yes, Mother.” the scout replied. She had taken the usual position one would expect from a fantasy commander addressing their lord, having taken a half-kneel with her head bowed and one fist to the ground and one behind her back. “I put our chances of total victory at close to 80% unless they manage to pull something stupid out of their asses.”
“Good.” Lyrhea nodded to this. “Good. Set all of our people on high alert. If they left the day you did, then they might arrive anywhere from… when to when?”
“Anywhere from never to a few days. Maybe three at minimum if we give them the ability to engage in a death march.” Interjected Pynzar. “Based on the intel, they are either already on the move or they are still gathering their numbers. Given the intel gathered by our newest sister, I would estimate that we have at least another two to four days to prepare before the numerous groups coalesce and begin their march.”
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“Then we’d best start fortifying out positions.”
Lyrhea began to take suggestions from both her ‘daughters’ and from the Lesser Lyrheans, but most of them were simple things like ‘digging in’ or ‘attacking first’. After a few minutes of these rather unimaginative suggestions, she turned to the few Humans that were a part of her court.
“And what do you suggest we do, if anything?”
All eyes turned to them and they began to try and think harder and faster, but at the saem time not upstage their superiors.
“Well, if it were up to me,” replied one of the few Humans in the court, “I would make a few traps here and there. Nothing too major, but rather just a few things to hinder their advance and also, potentially, lower their numbers.”
“I suggest we do what you did all those months ago, Mother.” added Luxnilae. “A few fire-hardened and serrated sticks laced with our Omni-toxin venom should cut down on their numbers, all while being easy and quick to make and deploy. Plus, we would not be affected by them if they managed to breech our skin.”
“And I could place a few Frost Traps here and there.” Frosrahsa quipped. It seemed that Lyrhea had been right to ask the Humans. Despite considering them beneath their kind, the simple act of someone ‘lesser’ than them putting forth a vague idea had inspired her people to try and one-up the ‘inferior beings’.
“Then it is settled.” Lyrhea decided to end things here for that issue. “I will trust you to prepare the defenses and set the traps, and also to make sure that their locations are known and marked so that we don’t fall into them later on.”
Turning to the lead designer of the ever-more stable buildings and fortifications as well as the Lesser Lyrhean in charge of overseeing the human cultist militia, she made it clear that all hands were needed on deck at this time, and thus they would need to have everyone and their pets become temporary combat engineers. Directing her next words to Pynzar, she made it clear that the Lesser Lyrheans needed to be drilled a bit more for the upcoming battle for survival, and be outfitted with the best arms and armor that could be made.
She told Frosrahsa and the other ranged-focused Lyrheans that they needed to prepare to fight from any vantage point possible and to focus on training their accuracy and fire-speed during the few days they had left before the attack, and to Luxnilae, who had become the ‘face of the faith’ she gave the order to increase the fervor and zeal to all new highs.
She was, of course, not exactly the kind of person to want such devotion heaped upon her normaly, but it was a means to an end, and she would take it despite her misgivings.
And, as the Grekel and Lyrheans alike planned, plotted, schemed, and made ready for a amassive battle, a pair of Gods also were preparing for one. Deep within the void that the weakest of the new Gods tended to dwell in, the God of Lyrheans and the God of Grekels began to take bets from other Gods, both ones that were weaker and equal in strength but also those stronger.
Which side would win? Would the numberless hordes of tiny murderous rapists claim victory and new meat to pound, or would the snake-people prove that they could use their power advantage to the best of their ability?
As the days rolled by and both side made ready for a momentous clash, the outcome of the first major battle of the Lyrhean Imperium hung in the balance, with two paths open; Extinction, or Survival. Victory, or defeat.
And then, the day came, and it was time to roll the dice.