The sky is grey. We’re surrounded eight to one. Storming Utoria is their final assault in a battle that truly began a long time ago. Its a feud that is looking as if we can all predict the final outcome. To my left and right are my brothers, standing fearlessly in the face of certain doom. The continuous roar of the enemy sends waves of terror through the troops, but we shall never abandon our post because it is our duty to protect Reuben The Inflammable. An impressionable warrior, skilled but unpredictable.
“Way back in the middle-time between four and twenty-three, Reuben ventured the advice of the all-knowing, all-powerful Constantine Juarez. Interestingly, he is the only man of his kind, what a pity. In all honesty he is a well aged manipulator with a secret to die for. Only, a problem occurred during their first consultation. Their involvement fell sour when the inflammable uttered the accurate intentions of his visit.”
The awe of his might would usually provoke fear across all of the Mudbeatles, Lizalavas and Centibarks but, today is different. They’re stronger now and somehow less frightened, no doubt due to Con. Juarez enchanting the unholy. As the horrific beings meandered over our defenses, we grew weary at the rate they had accomplished their invasion. Especially with such ease. The Archers on the south wall are compromised. The life sized death bringers begin by slicing their throats. Their pincers as sharp as diamond, as quick as flies and as blood squirts directly at them. Triumphantly they roll in the spoiling vessels nectar before continuing to the next victim. Fenwick the Perpetuate raised his bow pitifully trying to pierce their thick twisted mutational coating. One steel arrow after another pinged off the scared Centibark. Needless to say they were torn apart. Devoured.