Ages Eternal [IC] (Ages/Legends Eternal) War of the Gods

A look of anger crossed Paloria's face, and then she forcefully, but gently, pushed Aether back down.

"You will stay here until you recover completely, understood. As for why we are here, you went and picked a fight with H'Mog and he wiped the floor with you. We are here because you have been unconscious for a week. An entire week! Why did you do it? What do you think would have happened if H'Mog killed you?"

Fire began to build up on Paloria's skin as her emotions started to go wild.
"I wouldnt say wiped the floor with me, dear sister." Aether said with a weak smile, "By the rules of domination he could not kill me with honor. so i was relatively safe. All i was trying to do was help our cause." Aether paused as his back throbbed, "Was I really out for a week?" he said painfully.
As Worm left, Paloria smacked Aether.

"Aether, for all your great knowledge, you understand so very little." Paloria turned back around, hiding the formation of a single molten tear.

"Anyways, Worm said something about you and Seven Needles. Is there something that you wish to tell me?"

(Stealthily dodges Aether's question!)
Aether winced as she stuck him. "Yes there is, You see your champion tried to swear alliance with a dwarf lord of Nonpa. Then proceed to insult the worm and Seven Needles." Aether tried to clear his thoughts before continuing, "We hang in a delicate balance with the Worm, She must apologize publicly and you must follow suit."

As Aether finished, Taliesin burst into the room "Aether! By Paloria's Raging Tongue! You could've died!" Taliesin paused awkwardly as he noticed Paloria standing there, "Uh...N-No offence my queen."
Palria's gaze passed over to Taliesin, catching sight of Frailtear. With the hardened, and often terrifying, look of a mother, Paloria spoke to her child.

"Frailtear, I have been told that you disrespected both Seven Needles and the Worm in Waiting. Is this true?"

Frailtear, feeling her back stiffen and beads of sweat form, answered her goddess, "My goddess, I imagine that I did so disrespect Seven Needles. He attempted to kill a potential ally. While the Dwarf king may have worshipped Nonpa, he was still a potential ally. As such, I attempted to rectify the situation. However, Bo'Akur, another god's Champion, gained his allegiance."

Frailtear, after taking a light pause, started speaking again, "As such, we went to the Dwarves of Begdor and enlisted the kindness of King Hrothgar. We also manage to recruit the faeries to our side as well. They send envoys as we speak. King Hrothgar is said to be coming in the flesh as well."

Paloria thought over what Frailtear had said, and then, she too spoke, "Frailtear, go forth, apologize to Seven Needles for your disrespect. We cannot afford to lose the Worm in Waiting's assistance."

Turning back to AAether, she spoke once more, "Is there anything else, Aether, brother of mine?"
H'mog was becoming stressed at this time. 9 months had passed that felt like days. Long, agonizing days. The orcs were running out of food and supplies in the desert, most of what they have left going to fend off Lech. War would be handy right about now... But Paloria is not moving, at all. What was she planning??

Shel informs him of a message from Refcaskha; New agents on their way from the east. A risky route to take, and they are few and want to be met half way. This was fine by H'mog. While they were at it, the new M'jhudhu forces could take strategic positions among the north-eastern dunes, near the grasslands.

Already their forces formed a thick wall around the garden of change, A force of 1.2 (now that the M'jhudhu joined) million orcs total; Hundreds of thousand of warriors. These new agents were from a god he had not heard of and there skills were... "people"? Whatever that meant. The Humans and Golems of Obus had yet to arrive in bulk, and most quash were still in the garden. But his Orcs were as ready as they will ever be.

A small force mobilizes to travel on a dangerous route near enemy lines...
As Paloria was talking with the prone Aether, one of her children flew to the spire. The great blue dragon spoke quickly and efficiently as its human rider rode bewildered by her companion's sudden flight.

"My queen! The enemy advances! The orcs make a great battle line around the Garden of Change. Small contingents of their numbers have began to move away from the group. I fear that they plan to attack soon!"

Paloria mulled over this information. First, she ordered Aether to stay still, as she would assume full command over his forces. Flying out to her army, the Draconic Queen began to plan out the war with Frailtear and Taliesin, as Seven Needles and Worm were nowhere to be seen at this time.

Their army was great. A combination of six races lead to a total force of about two million, with many in reserve. First, they would send out their rangers, a specially trained group of humans, dru'dar, and ledians. With a total of 3oo units, they began to move out, stealthily in units of five. Secondly, Paloria sent out her dragon riders. Great drakes totalling no less than a quarter of her forces took flight. However, only a few actually went out. They scoured the ground from a bird's eye view, tracking the movements of orc bands from up high.

Mobilizing her main army, Paloria divided them into teams. Every platoon was to be its very own self-sufficient army. Each one contained a single member from every race. With over 100,000 such groups, Paloria's army was going to be a killing machine. With the remaining 1 million troops, Paloria created a standard army. Dwarves, as tankers, took to the front lines, the People of Led begrudgingly dispersed throughout them. Human cavalry came up behind them, their lances and spears held at the ready to stab any enemy that got trapped in the Dwarves' shields. Farther back came the Dru'Dar mages and human archers. Helped by the faeries, these ranks proved to be extremely accurate and effective. Then, high in the air were the dragon riders. The cream of the crop in Paloria's eyes. Ridden by humans, Dru'Dar, Ledians, and in rare cases, Dwarves, these powerful units were always accompanied by a faery.

The Dragon riders would fly behind enemy lines to rain down hellfire upon their enemies, taking out their archers in the process. The riders were always a master of either magic or weaponry and able to use their gifts to deadly appeal.

Satisfied, Paloria waited as her riders scouted out the enemy troops, relaying the information back to headquarters and then directing the special forces into position.
A runner from the company H'mog sent returns to Shel with grave news. There force of 575 Orcish warriors, lightly armored with a mix of swords, axes and javelins, and 20 Quash with their light armaments and poisons, were surrounded by enemy scouts!

Skah! The enemy picked the ONE TIME... H'mog ran to contact Mutare. "how long does you want me stall?!" he asked, forcing 'Two weeks' out of him. H'mog couldn't let his people die, and two weeks would not take long, so the wall was thinned out along the eastern most edge in order to send a Force of 5000 Orc Warriors with a good 50 Quilbeasts and heavy armaments to lead an advance into enemy lines and return these agents to safety. H'mog dearly hoped those trying to kill them counted as "People" to these new agents. Also, about 500 Dwarves of Dhordahn were intercepted and told to flank the march enemy. They will arrive fist, but if they succeed in distracting the foe, it will give H'mog's armies the upper-hand in many areas. The 5000 would then try to maneuver into a flanking position if at all possible; H'mog took a deep breath... It was time.
Paloria looked out across the flat plains that stretched out from her realm. H'Mog had made his move, rolled the dice. As she stood there her riders were reporting movement from a force approximately 5000 strong. Even those damnable dwarves from Dhordahn had come, attempting to flank the goddess's army. Thankfully, her enemies didn't have the sight of a dragon on the flight.

Paloria quickly sent Frailtear, with a small contingent of ten dragon riders, to intercept the dwarven legion. Returning to the force of orcs already in her territory, Paloria ordered her Rangers to start picking off their enemies. Suddenly, almost instantaniously, a couple hundred orcs perished from a rushed attack, then, melding back into the surrounding wilderness, her rangers disappeared. Though the orc band was on guard, their initial enemies had already moved to attack the outskirts of H'mog's army.

Sending out two groups of 5000, each consisting of 1000 Dwarves, 2000 Humans, 500 dragons, 500 Dru'Dar, 500 Faeries and 500 Ledians, Paloria planned to manuever them into a pincer attack around her enemy's forces. Her eyes alight with a burning flame, the goddess sent out her orders.


Frailtear did as her goddess commanded and flew to the contingent of dwarves. 500, bound to earth figures, stood no chance against her breath from the sky. Frailtear, with her ten riders, of whom five were Dru'Dar who secialized in magic and the other fie were humans skilled with the bow, began to spread great flames of fire amongst their enemies.


The first group of 5000 was to engage the orcish army directly while the second group was to finish off the first Orc contingent. With their riders flying high, the small group of 300 orcs would not stand a chance against dragon flame.


The mysterious Rangers, after dissappearing from their first kills travelled quickly to the body of 5000 orcs. There, the hidden forces began to pick off orcs and a few Quilbeasts.
H'mog watched with godly powers as impossible things occured: Ten thousand?! He was ready to scream. Why the bug-ridden skah so many? Could it be the agents coming? He needed to give a miracle fast. Telling the seers in the party to hide, the army of five thousand took to the nearby Evergreen forest; the wilderness of this place was very familiar to them. Behind them they released 20 of 43 remaining quilbeasts to hunt the enemy rangers. H'mogs beasts might not be known for subtly, no, but Mutares are, and what H'mog's creations ARE known for is the propensity to any terrain. And finally in the forests the Orcs were adept at wilderness survival.

The Last Orcs of the meeting party were routed. They were few. Their most use would be to enter hand to hand. Against dragons this was impossible, if only they would land... Then, a strange perfume was detected in the air...


A refugee of a new creature the dragons were not familiar with appeared in the air. There were ten, with five more on the ground. They were all young woman with bird wings and tails, and dressed like peasants. They were also all quite attractive, and smelled oddly. As the dragons smelled there musky aroma it became hard to reason, and they were approached by two of these bird-women. "Please, can you help us? We have wounded on the ground and are short of food!"
Paloria grew angry as she saw the orcs' movements. They had decided to enter the evergreen forest, a place that her forces would not do well within. Her largest hope were the rangers, but it seemed as though Mutare's beasts could kill her Rangers with only a bit of difficulty. Ordering them to retreat, her Rangers lost 25 to their number. Then, with deft skill, Paloria sent a contingent of 500 dragon riders from the main force to begin burning down the forest.


Meanwhile, her second force of 5000 came into contact with the 500 dwarves. Shields and hammers clashed as Led maces crushed dwarven armor. Archers shot a sea of arrows among their foes, blinding them. Dru'Dar mages sent out wave after wave of magic, disrupting the very land that those of Dhordahn stood upon. Lastly, the dragon riders sprayed out rivers of flame upon their metal-encased foes.


Frailtear was shocked as her thoughts became muddled. With a great deal of strength, the champion broke free from the feathered fiends' enchantments. Looking to her companions, the dragon saw that only two sets of dragon and rider were free from the effects of the creatures' songs.

Responding to the creature, Frailtear began to speak, "First, if this enchantment is of your doing, then cease it at once. Second, if you do not leave this battle immediately, I will cut you down. As such, if you still wish for assistance afterwards, then I would gladly hear your concerns." Brushing off the newcomer, Frailtear returned to the battle at hand.

Ordering the hazy units home, Frailtear continued her attack against this small contingent. Leaving her two units, one with an archer, the other a mage, high in the air to deal with the ten flying creatures, Frailtear herself descended to land. Among her had been ten orcs along with five of the new creatures. Her fiery shift from dragon to human burned away a few of the orcs.

Pulling her hand-and-a-half sword from its sheath, Frailtear lifted the glinting steel blade, a gift from the dwarves, its point facing her remaining opponents. Then, she began her slaughter.
Frailtear started towards the ten orcs, who stopped and whistled, a malicious grin on their faces, and 75 more Orcish soldiers ran forward from behind the landed party, surprising them with wicked and heavy melee weapons and javelins. Ten Sirens drew daggers and dive-bombed, providing another layer of distraction for the five enemies.


A large party stealthily moved south along the mountains, taking to the Evergreen forest to meet with the hiding legion of orcs, who were retreating south away from fire. They were assured that they could escape further south.


A contingency of five sirens began singing and dive-bombing dragons, careful to avoid their attacks but still make their presence known to the titanic beasts. They were smaller and faster, allowing some aid in their dangerous mission.
Mutare knew the war has begun. He rushed to finish up his Forest's defenses as well as finish his latest experiment. The first skimishes were beginning soon and H'Mog had asked him how long until the Garden was ready. 'Two weeks' was what he told him. He knew that H'Mog's forces will not be able to fend off Paloria's forces for long, as she has her terrible beasts in the skies to face them. This was no consquience to him. At least not yet. He wished for Paloria to get as close to his borders as possible before showing his hand. And hopefully if her forces are capable of getting into the Garden, then he will be able to see what his creations can do to outside forces. For now he worked, he waited and he watched.
Frailtear spun around, slicing the throat of a nearby orc as she did so. On all sides, enemies came rushing. Thankfully, her troops were quick thinkers. One of them, the archer and his dragon attacked the descending birds, but it was a feint. The ten creatures quickly spun back around to attack the two dragon riders. Flying into their faces, the sirens immediately cut them down. Then, a force from the Orcs launched several volleys of arrows at their targets, killing both dragons with lucky hits.

Frailtear watched in agony as her brethren fell to the orcs. Her rage burned brightly as fire began to devour the orcs around her. Though, as her form shifted back into that of a great dragon, a well-timed arrow found its way into her shoulder, lodging itself there. With a scream of pain, the champion retreated, with the rest of her forces to Paloria.


As for the dwarves of Dhordahn, they suffered a far worse fate than the previous orcs. With a mere 500 to a force of 5000, the were easily surrounded. With the stout dwarves of Begdor blocking their every escape, it did not take long for the weapons of Human and Ledian, along with dragon fire from above, to cut their numbers down by half.


The dragon riders of the first army were experiencing some major difficulties as they were bombarded by merely five feathered beings. While it ended up taking a considerable while, a few archers managed to pick off the nimble creatures. As such, The dragons divided in two. 250 to the north, while 250 travelled southwards in order to block the orcish army's escape.


The Rangers received new orders from Paloria. They were to return to the original contingent of orcs and slaughter them. The Rangers executed their orders incredibly well, havong blocked off their senses of hearing and smell in order to not be tricked by the sirens, the group of 275 special forces made repeated attacks against the 90 orcs and sirens.

Eventually, after several rounds of whittling their enemy's numbers down, the group of Rangers exterminated the Orc contingent along with the 15 sirens. The rangers, however, only lost 15 to their number.
The Worm's avatar and Seven Needles sat together on the top of a building, calmly regarding the conflict in the distance. "The battle nears its end, my Mistress." Seven Needles said. "Shall we do our part?"

The Worm seemed hesitant. "Night has yet to fall. But when the moon rises, we will perform our role. For now, send the Gravebeasts to protect the dead from mutilation."

Seven Needles nodded, stood, and sent the hulking creatures out, so they would begin their part in the war.


Over the waning sound of battle, a putrid scent filled the nostrils of those who remained alive. The eight Gravebeasts stepped into sight, lumbering silently over the corpses, and taking care to leave them unscathed. In time, all of them found a spot at the edge of the carnage and sat down, eyes trained on the horizon. Were there any attempt to disturb the dead, they would face their wrath. As the battles took over more ground, the beasts moved with the changing borders. If their distance was too far, Worm Knights stood between them. They guarded the bodies of friend and foe alike, a set determination in their eyes.
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H'mog had enough. WHEN his orcs return, they would know his displeasure. until then he had to ensure they would return.

Something was muttered on the wind in a divine tongue, all creatures in the battle heard it... And the creatures outside of it around it.

At that the world itself stopped. The bird flying away from the battle, millions upon millions of them, heard the voice... And turned around, their wills dominated. The main force dragons in the forest were met with Millions of flocks of birds, pecking and clawing at the eyes.

The forces in the plains were met by an army of bears and hogs, tens of thousands of them. Advancing full sprint, the animals assaulted H'mogs enemies.

And the rangers might notice sets of panther's green eyes in the dark... And then many more.

H'mog sat back, drained of power. That was tiring...
Aether lay propped up in bed with taliesin beside him, "Damnit boy, help me up." Said Aether through a cough. Taliesin stamped his leg nervously, "B-but Paloria s-s-said, you are to stay bed ridden sir..." As Taliesin said this Aether grabbed him by the scruff of his chest. With a jerk Aether pulled Taliesin to eye level. "Listen here boy, fetch me my staff and help me up, or i swear ill turn you into something unnatural!" Taliesin responded with a muffled yelp and did as Aether commanded. Standing Aether sputtered and coughed up a little blood. "Now thats a good chap." Said Aether with a bloody smirk as he strode off towards the war council, whistling.


Taliesin happy to have leave, ran off to the Army encampment where Frailtear was based. Weaving through the croweds he found Frailtear's command tent.


Hrothgar WindForge burst through War council doors and strode towards Paloria. His Hammar with Glowing patterns on the head was slung over his shoulder and His apron was hanging unevenly over his body. "Paloria! The great Dragon 'erself. Your beauty is even greater in person! I am The Dwarf'lord Hrothgar Windforge and i'm honored to meat ya' In person!"
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From behind the lines of Worm Knights and Gravebeasts, The Worm's avatar walked over the dead, mounted on a Wallow beast. Beside her, very drunk and seething with rage, Seven Needles followed mounted on a very small Gravebeast. As she went by, the dead began to draw together, folding and crushing into two massive Gravebeasts. It took 100 bodies each, and by the time she was done, there were two Gravebeasts and eighty Human, Dwarves, and People of Lead in tow. Orcs simply seemed to fall apart when she used her power on them. The Worm found this disturbing. It seemed H'mog had instilled part of his own essence into their bodies, and so they weren't entirely under her control.

She stopped at the line, ten Worm Knights made way for the reanimated soldiers to march toward the battle ahead. The two Gravebeasts went in tow, liquid starlight dripping from their savage mouths.
Paloria was outraged. The poor Dwarf King showed up at the wrong time. His words, brash and loud, had earned her anger. Suddenly, flames burst out over the Dwarf's head.

"Hrothgar, King of Begdor. I am in the middle of a war, a war that is no longer going well. However, that will soon change."

Walking past the old dwarf, Paloria took flight. She was needed at the front lines. Her huge form flew towards the Evergreen forest. Summoning up her own power, Paloria brought flames upon the great expanse of trees. While the effort drained her of her power, the entire forest burned down to nothing, all that had inhabited it were dead, their smoldering corpses littering the blackened remains of trees.

Exhausted, Paloria retreated within her army, letting Frailtear command the rest.


The dwarves of Dhordahn began to fight back. After getting bunched into a small circle, they managed to create a defense that was almost unbreakable. To make it worse, animals appeared out of nowhere to attack the armies rear. Suffering heavily from the flank attack, Paloria's army lost an overwhelmingly large amount of soldiers. 350 of the archers were defeated by this new onslaught.

However, Frailtear was notified that they gained some new troops. Sending out the two Gravebeasts to break the dwarves' defenses, Frailtear ordered the 500 dragon riders to begin burning away at the animal onslaught. Rearranging their format, Frailtear had human and Ledian warriors to hold back the beasts. All the while Dru'Darian mages attacked from within the center of the army's ring.


As for the Rangers, they accomplished their mission of killing the orcs and sirens, however, as soon as this task was completed, they were surrounded by hundreds of eyes.

"jaguars," they whispered. Trembling in excitement, the Rangers grouped up, the strongest on the outside acting as tanks. The swifter, faster Rangers were just behind the tankers, preparing to attack the oncoming horde.

Realizing what was happening, Frailtear ordered the dragon riders of the first army to assist the Rangers. As such, the dragon riders began to attack the jaguars in a frenzy.