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Queen Corella

 

Queen Corella (74 pts) received word two days ago of several armies marching into her territory. She deployed scouts immediately who confirmed her fears, two warlords were marching into her territory. She sent for her most trusted commanders, Dra the Amazon Draconum (108 pts) and Orb Myrmidon (86 pts). Upon their arrival at the castle the commanders were escorted to the throne room. A blademistress announced their arrival.

“We’ve heard of the armies in our territory, I take it you plan to react?” asked Myrmidon.

Yes, but I don’t have the resources for a large scale battle. That is why you two are here. I need both of you to seek out additional forces. Make whatever offers you find reasonable,” replied Queen Corella

With haste, Dra and Myrmidon depart the castle in search of the forces the queen required to fend off the encroachment into her territory. Queen Corella exited the thrown room and headed for the war room. Within the hour the queen examined maps of her territory and began developing battle plans. A Blademistress entered the war room and snapped to attention.

“My queen, Hambulandroika request an audience with you,”

The queen raised an eyebrow, “send him in.”

There is a marsh and dark forest at the edge of the queen’s territory. This area is full of wild creatures, Mage Spawn. The queen attempted to contain the menace by ordering patrols of her forces to police the area. The wild beasts and Krugg looters slaughtered her patrols. The queen contacted the Matriarch, the ruler of the Shift for help. A deal was struck and the Matriarch deployed a Shift unit lead by Hambulandroika.

The Shift are a devious race with natural empathic powers. It is these powers that allowed them to yield Mage Spawn to their will. It is believed that the empathic powers of the Shift can be used on men, also making many warlords unwilling to negotiate with them. The race is untrustworthy and many rulers choose war over negotiation. They are reptilian in appearance with blue skin and webbed feet. They speak with slur and a hiss.

“Quee-n-n-n-n-n,” he started, his reptilian tongue drawing out the N.

“These armies-s-s-s-s that threaten your land threaten my well being as well. I’d like to offer my services and the services of thos-s-s-s-e in my employ,”

The queen smiled. Once the details were discussed, Hambulandroika (41 pts) exits, escorted by a Blademistress. The head Golem Mechanic reported to the queen as ordered.

“The Steam Golems (1X 69, 1X61, 2X56 = 242 pts) have been prepped for battle as you requested,”

The Queen eagerly awaited the return of her commanders. At sunrise there was a loud boom and ground shuck the foundation of the castle. It happened again, seconds after the first one. The Queen, already awake sat on her thrown reading when the first tremor hit. As the boom followed by tremors drew closer to the castle, the queen stepped out on the balcony of the thrown room. On the horizon, an Ancient Iron Rain Hill Giant (436 pts) with a dwarf-manned turret on each shoulder approached the castle. With the sun at it’s back, the giant cast large shadow on the ground below. A dwarven captain rode in a seat on the back of the giant’s neck. With one swing of its mighty axe, the Ancient Giant could cut down many enemies. As it drew closer, The Queen spotted Orb Myrmidon just head of the giant on his mechanical house galloping at top speed.

The alarm sounded and a lookout pointed towards the northern sky. The queen relocated to get a better view. The lookout soon reported the return of Dra. She was riding on a flying metal disk, accompanied by the Arcane Draconum, Ijoetic (202 pts), his advisor Eldritch Draconum Mandis (93 pts), Mandis’ apprentice a Whelp Monk (30 pts) and Ijoetic’s slave an Atlantis Guild Technomancer (25 pts).

The Draconum are a race descendent from dragons. They have metallic green scales and dragon features. They are known for commanding great magic and being bred for battle. They hatch from eggs as Whelps. Whelps capable of over coming the natural feral ways of Draconum youth are trained in other disciplines. Those that remain are bred for furious melee combat. Most Draconum keep to themselves staying out of the affairs of man. However, Dra selected to offer her skills to Queen Corella. And now Dra has swayed others to join her.

The Queen headed to the courtyard to greet them. Orb Myrmidon stood at her side as the flying disk landed. Dra made introductions.

“Queen Corella, My daughter has spoken highly of you. I look forward to joining you on the field of battle,” says Ijoetic.

The Queen lowered her head.

The steam golems were marched into the courtyard by the Golem Mechanic.

“We’re almost ready, “ said the queen.

Hambulandroika accompanied by a Krugg Seer (45 pts) pulled into the courtyard by wagon. Rend the Imp (12pts) flew just ahead of the wagon. A War Impaler on a Yak (43 pts) pulled the wagon and on back of the wagon were two Impalers (1X33, 1X30 = 63 pts). Hambulandroika jumped from the wagon and greeted the other. Without warning, 3 Shadows appeared.

“S-S-S-orry, I should have warned you, this is Black Dirge (35pts) and offspring (2X32 = 64 pts),”

With the last of the introductions and her Army assembled Queen Corella lead her forces into the countryside to defend her land.

***Queen Corella's Conquest Army***



Solonavi Fan Fiction
By Kimo Sharp


“Mistress Creator” asked the Channeler softly, “Mistress I have the news you sent me to find.”

Said the healer as she entered the massive quarters. Every night at the twelve chime of the great clock the Creator stood at her fireplace with her wings at full extension and her arms crossed as she looked up at the stars. She paid homage to the Solonavi gods and this night they have supplied her with news she will rather enjoy.

"Good I want to see what those conniving Atlantians are up to." She said without moving a single muscle.

The Channeler moved closer holding a rolled piece of parchment. The Creator turned slowly, relaxed her wings and dropping both arms to her side.

She reached out and lightly grabbed the parchment from her servants’ hand. She unrolled the paper and read it quietly, as she finished a smile crossed her lips. She looked over at her servant and with a sly voice said “Get my brother the Striker, tell him to meet me in the Great Library. I have a task for him.” The Channeler looked up at the Creator with slight confusion for only a second, she nodded turned and left the room with purpose only the Creator could create.

The Creator read the paper she held in her hands a second time to memorize it word for word. When she finished she tossed it into the fire, as she watched it burn to dust she thought, “This time we will show those heathens to the North what pain is, and we employ our strongest adversary to do so.”

An hour later in the Great Library of the Solonavi Keep, the Striker entered through the main double door alone. Taking two steps into the great room he stopped and scanned the vastness looking for his elder sister the Creator. Spotting her on the opposite side, her back to him, he headed in her direction. As he approached, he sensed a strange aura coming from his sister, a feeling he was unsure how to handle.

“You always make me waiting Striker.” The Creator announced, “And you never send for me unless you have something I have to fix.”

The Striker replied sharply. The Creator turned and smiled, making her brother feel uneasy. Puzzled the Striker asked, “Why have you sent for me?” “I have something you might enjoy dear brother, have a seat and let me explain.”

Both the Creator and Striker sat at opposite ends of an enormous table spanning twenty feet long.

“For the past three weeks I have heard rumors that the Atlatians were planning an event on a massive scale.”

“Yes I have heard these rumors.” The Striker answered, still puzzled.

“I know you have, we all have and I wanted to find out more, so I sent a few of my low level channelers to bring me information. Just an hour ago I received the information I was waiting for. Those heathenistic Atlantians are planning a Gladiator event at there Collusium in The City of Atlantis and we are going to decimate this event, every opponent, and the scum of the land Atlantians.”

Silence filed the room as she finished. The Striker sat expressionless for a moment, then a smile crossed his lips, mirroring the one his sister had the entire time as she told her tale.

“There is more isn’t their?” He replied ending the silence.

“Brother you know me well. I want our most feared adversary to join us on this little escapade.”

The smile dropped from the Strikers face and fell to an open mouth look of shock. The Creators expression didn’t change. She just waited for the thought to sink in. As it did the smile returned to her brothers’ mouth and he drew breath to speak, she cut him off.

“The drone is already sent with the proposal.” She said knowing all too well what he was thinking.

They both sat back smiling thinking of the coming Atlantain event. The low level Drone approached the Stone Keep, his message was clear, his task simple and it came right from the Creator herself. He must do it to win her honor and that of his unit. As he neared the main gates he was met by two guards, both a bit puzzled by the single Solonavi Drone, ready to defend their gates to the end.

“I am here under truce and request an audience with you supreme master.”

Stated the Drone with confidence. The guards looked at each other in puzzlement, but both turned back to the drone with a smile.

“He is straight ahead.”

Snickered the guard on the right. The Drone faced forward and without saying another word headed right for the throne where he knew his objective would be.

The corridor was long, straight and absolutely enormous. The Drone paid no attention his focus was on the hundreds of eyes peering at him. Every step he took forward seemed like three steps back. He was rattled being the only one of his kind in this Keep. After what seemed an eternity he reached the base of the throne. He looked up at the enormous figure before him. As a sign of respect the Drone stretched his arms out palm side up.

“I have come as part of a truce” Said the Drone.

Now there was a swarm of figures he could easily make out on either side of him as he spoke.

“Arcane Draconum, I have been sent by the Mistress Creator to ask for your assistance, and your assistance alone.” The Drone said with a steady calm.

The Arcane looked down at the pathetic Drone with a full teethed smile.

“What does the witch of the Solonavi want with me?” He asked.

“The Mistress Creator has found information about a Gladiator event being held in the Realm of the Atlantis Guild. She wishes for you to be present with her and her brother, The Striker, at this event.”

The Arcane sat back in his throne, his smile getting ever wider. The Drone gave an unsettled cough and continued.

“She knows that the feud between our two races is great, but there is one thing we both hate more then each other, that is the Atlantis Guild. Do you accept?” The drone finished.

As the question left the messengers lips, the Arcane being to laugh and rare his head back, the entire hall became a loud cackle of laughing Dracs. The Drone looked around nervous as ever, waiting for the reply. The Arcane looked down on the messenger, and raised his left hand, forming a bluish glow as he answered.

“Yes little Solonavi, I accept!” With a lightning fast thrust of his hand, a ball of magic leapt forth consuming the Drone. All that was heard from the lone Solonavi was a muffled cry as he exploded into ash.

The Arcane laughed at the thought of what he was to partake in next week.

“You!” He commanded pointing at a low level Alchemist.

“Come here! Go to The Creator and her brother and tell them I accept this truce.”

The hall erupted once more, in the screams of Draconum, as the Alchemist obediently left the Keep on his way to deliver the message. Later that evening in the Great Library, the night silence was broken by a loud crash. At the foot of the library doors lay the Alchemist smoldering and crackling as dying bolts of electricity surged through his body. The Creator and Striker could be seen through the broken door laughing.

“A truce.” They said together.




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