"Paradise Slimed"
Sparkling water flowed excitedly
over a multi-tiered waterfall, giving way to a lush valley filled with colors
scarcely seen outside a dream. Occasionally broken by the uneven ground, the emerald canopy allowed the
sky a chance view of the wonders below. Cheerful hwits danced through the air to the tune of their scarletsong
while mighty predators put their hunt aside to rest within the heart of
Paradwyn. This was the picture of the
Sacred Basin as it had been, before falling beneath the fog of war.
Now the
vivid colors are dimmed and subdued. The scarletsong was no longer sung here; its chorus afraid of giving
away their hiding places to the ensuing chaos. Instead the beautiful melody has been replaced by the incessant
thundering of the drums of war.
In the three days since Korg and
his minions had pushed their way deep into the center of the jungle, a shocked
and terrified collection of Paradwyn's finest Magi have been fighting tooth and
nail to keep the invaders from the Grove of the Paradise Gem. They would never, in their worst nightmares,
have dreamed that Korg could have come this far; but there is one far more
surprised than they are.
Why,
Olabra screamed inwardly, is this place so full of weaklings that none can
best that fool Korg? Pacing back
and forth, the Elder of Bograth searched the waging battle from her vantage
atop a small knoll. Soon the
bagala-woman's ambush will come from behind, and I can spring my own little
trap, Olabra thought to herself. Lazily tapping the animite ring on her finger she crouched and gazed
across the tangled melee. Her eyes fell upon Bahza, who was studying the
skirmish from his own perch above the entrance to the Grove. With narrowed eyes Olabra sneered at the
slender Paradan, and her thoughts began to mock him. Did you honestly think I would not have noticed her absence? You always were more of a fool than your
years should have?/i>
Standing so swiftly as to almost
lose her balance, Olabra lit up with excitement. OF COURSE! Bahza would
have no difficulty in felling our illustrious "king"; that is, if I
can find a way to pry Golthub from his side! Rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes Olabra scanned the fray once
more, seeking an opportunity to set her new plan into motion.
To the
north of the trampled and decimated clearing, Baa, Weip, Granna and Ninibom
unleashed brilliant blasts of energy from outstretched rings. The humid air blurred and swirled as dream
energy flowed from the concentrating Magi. Within seconds a veritable army of dreams had appeared before them,
swiftly replacing those that Boria had just vanquished. The four of them were exacting a costly toll
on her, and it was obvious that she did not have much fight left in her. With a swift tap on one of her own rings,
Boria called forth a rainbow hued Jungle Hyren from her beleaguered mind.
From the
center of the conflict, Ookami watched painfully as his friend's Hyren was
swarmed and dragged to the ground by the Bograthi host. With a sharp whistle, Ookami fetched the
attention of a brace of his own Lahalou. A jerk of his head in Boria's direction was all he needed to send his
avian friends to her aid, all the while continuing to pound out the beat of his
war drums. A piercing screech split the
jungle air as the brace took flight, led by a majestic Scarletsong
Lahalou. The Lahalou's cries began to
incite each other to frenzy as they danced through the tangled melee to reach
their appointed charge. Swooping in
none too soon, the graceful winged beasts began to snatch Bograthi creatures
from the battered Hyren's struggling form; freeing it to turn its fury on the
Magi responsible for its master's pain.
Pulling
herself to her feet, Boria tried to cast Ookami a thankful smile, but his
attention had been returned to the fight around him. In front of the jungle drummer stood Culla and Archid, both
gripping redberry scepters with ring heavy hands; statuesque pictures of
strength and beauty amongst the ruin and despair.
"Outta
the way, girlies!" Keggerop leered
at the two women, as he stepped forward menacingly. "The All High King wants his gem."
Disgusted,
Archid snapped back, "You will not set one slimy foot in the Grove while
we still dream."
"Says
you." Blyght mocked from his vantage,
safely behind Keggerop.
To
reinforce the point, Culla held forth a hand and began to concentrate.?The ring resting on her thumb began to blaze
brightly as a mighty Oranragan began to take shape.
"No,"
Archid smiled to her friend before placing an icy stare on Blyght, "says
him." At that, the large dream
creature coalesced fully into being.
Keggerop
was forced to throw himself out of the way, as the Oranragan slammed its meaty
fist into the trampled earth where he’d been standing. Scrambling to his feet, the embarrassed Magi
thought to himself: Okay, this is not going to be as easy as we thought.
v
Crossing
his arms impatiently, Korg glowered at Golthub. "Stop clownin' and bash 'em!" the All High King barked
at his royal toady. "What’s da point of
bein?in charge if nobuddy does whatcha tell ‘em to do?!?" Korg began stomping back and forth,
occasionally waiving his scepter about angrily.
Through
straining teeth Golthub offered "I am trying, my King?quot;
Yricho and
Iain could only look at each other in disbelief.
The
two-headed, plantlike Magor standing before Golthub had been drawing out his
energy for at least a minute now. Golthub made the mistake of trying to dream up a creature of the darkest
nightmares in front of a Magor: Paradwyn's most (as Korg would put it) 'core-nivorous' denizen. Wanting a full meal, the Magor had begun
warping the energies pouring from Golthub to create a bigger and bigger nightmare. Golthub had been trying desperately for what
seemed an eternity to pry the Wudge ring off his stubby little finger, but to
no avail. It appeared as though the
chubby little Bograthian would soon be turned inside out by the energy flowing
out of his ring.
"This
is sad, really." Yricho said
coolly. Iain merely nodded in astonishment.
Yricho
grinned. "You can handle this?" More astonished nodding was all Iain could
respond with. At that, Yricho dashed
off to lend a hand where it might be needed.
Rivulets of
sweat began racing down Golthub’s face as he began to tremble. "My Lord, I? Golthub collapsed into a
trembling heap before could finish. The
grotesque, many fanged Wudge he was summoning shuddered with barely contained
power until a hungry Magor pinned it down under one leafy foot and began to
happily chomp it right back to the dream plane.
With
Golthub thus occupied, Olabra saw the opportunity she had been waiting for.
Scurrying down from her viewpoint on the knoll, Olabra headed for Korg. This is going too well, she thought
to herself. The only thing that could make this more perfect would be?/i>
"AMBUSH!" Weip’s cry of alarm rang out across the
battlefield. "They have us now,
we're done for!"
Olabra
smiled, Right on time. From the
northern border of the clearing, great hunting bagalas began to pounce onto the
Bograthi creations. Not far behind them
was Liriel, Paradwyn's bagala trainer, surrounded by another full pride of the
hunting beasts. Motioning with a hand
covered in glowing rings, she silently commanded her companions to join the
fray.
Rushing to Korg’s side, Olabra struggled to sound anything but overjoyed. "My king, my king! They are on top of us! We must redouble our efforts! Rally the men, I will move ahead and fetch the gem for you!" "Whaddayamean,
YOU?" Korg whirled about to glower
in Olabra's face. "I'm the king, I
get ta' get da gem!" Though Olabra
knew Korg to be a fool, his towering frame made for an imposing figure. She did not have to pretend to fear
him. "By your word, my lord. I will handle this so you may move
ahead."
"Durn
tootin'." he spat down at her before pivoting on his heel to stomp his way
through the fight. Standing straight,
the elder regained her composure and looked down at the only ring she wore.
Storming
past Golthub’s unconscious form, Korg stopped a moment to look at his snoozing
toady. With an annoyed grunt he whirled
to face a defensive Iain. Thrusting out
both hands Korg unleashed a wave of sickly gray-green energy at the Paradan,
which promptly leveled the poor, green skinned Magi. "That’s how you bash ‘em!" Korg roared at Golthub. Stepping on a moaning Iain, Korg resumed his
stomping towards the Grove, muttering about All High Kings and why they have
‘subjeks.?/div>
When Korg was safely out of
earshot, Olabra mumbled to herself. "Perfect, my turn for a surprise."
With a casual, strolling gate,
Olabra made her way into the thick of things. Humming to herself, she glanced back and forth, taking in the
destruction around her. Everywhere the
colors of bright jungle creatures were marred with filth and clinging swarms of
swamp-crawling, Bograthian horrors. That’s
it Paradwyn. Underestimate your simple neighbors. Giggling like a little girl, she began to rub the only
animite ring she wore. It is time to
join the battle, my little friend. Olabra pictured her moss-furred Makoor in her minds eye. Soon, with unexaggerated pomp, a slight
fizzle and a snap brought the unobtrusive dream creature into existence before
her.
Skittishly looking back and forth
like a nervous hinko, the Makoor pressed up against Olabra’s leg. "Don’t worry, little one. They will not hurt you." Olabra cooed to the frightened
creature. "Soon they will be gone and
you will have nothing to fear. See? You have many friends here
who will lend you their strength." She
swept a hand over the commotion surrounding them, so that the Makoor could see
all of his fellow Bograthian creatures. Olabra then leveled her tone and spoke to the creature
commandingly. "Now, little one, drink
in their power and bring the onslaught. Push our enemies to their knees."
Obeying dutifully, the Makoor began
to hum a low tone. Quaking slightly,
its cry grew in volume until soon it rivaled the thunder of Ookami’s war
drums. So deafening was the moan that
all of the fighting ceased and all present turned their attention to the
smallish creature.
Soon the Makoor’s form began to
violently shake, its mossy fur separating to allow sizzling green energy to
escape. As if caught in an unseen
explosion, each Bograthi creature burst into twinkling motes of light one by one
until only the Makoor remained. Lifting
their arms to shield their eyes from the now blinding light, the Paradans
struggled to understand what was happening. Gripped with fear, many tried shouting commands to their creatures in
hopes of doing away with this threat before something unspeakable occurred; but
their voices were drowned in the sea of the Makoor’s wail. The only sound that could be heard through
the horrid droning was Olabra’s laugh. Soon, her cackling laughter was the only
remaining evidence of her presence as the intensifying light consumed even her
silhouette.
Then, like a sack holding too much
animite, the Makoor split, bathing the Sacred Basin in the searing green
light. With the force of a raging
storm, the energy ripped through the clearing, shattering every dream creature
in its path and blasting the Paradan Magi from their feet. Soon all that was left was a low resonating
groan, racing off into the distance.
Catching her breath from her mad
bouts of laughter, Olabra smugly surveyed the wreckage. The Bograthians were cowering, just as
confused as their enemies, and the Paradan were laid low and straining against
battered bodies and burning skin.
"This is the fate of all who oppose
the might of Bograth," growled Olabra. "This is the fate of all who defy the
will of Olabra."
What happens next? Read Part 3 "Tropical Reign" |
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