Battle before Time

It was a dark time in the land of Athlas, millennia before the events of Danaversia and the Jouran Empire, a different threat moved against the people who lived in this time before recorded time. There were many peoples who lived in this era, one of the most dangerous was the Draken Empire, a land filled with mystical monsters and grand armies. It was also home to the evil Lord Downdon. A man, so evil, he was meant to have spawned from the very pit of hell itself, a man who had turned his eye to the rest of the continent. His Empire was vast in power and wealth but it was not enough. He wanted more than that. With the crystal of the golden sun, he had the potential to do that. The crystal, with a factory built around it, was able to produce unlimited resources and immense armies.1

One by one, war came to the kingdoms of Athlas and one by one, they fell to the Draken war machine. The shadow of the crystal spread from horizon to horizon, it’s armies seemed immortal. No one would stop their advance.2

Yet stopped they must be.3

The combined peoples of the continent, from the mystical Veela of the northern Forests, to the fox-like Xiscapians of the south, the humans of the west and the might of the Morphen Empire, all were united by their desire to defeat the evil that faced their humble land. With no other option, they marched into the heart of the Draken Empire to confront it’s heart.4

The crystal of the golden sun.5

It was a dark day, the deep black clouds concealing any hint of the sun or it’s heat. The day was more like night, little visibility, with thunderous rain falling in and around the massed ranks of the Allied Army, a cocktail of the various species that made the continent of Athlas. The land was flat and bare, save for a single cliff and that was lined with the deep grey armour of the Xiscapian Army.6

Xiscapians looked a lot like humans but there were also differences. They had the large ears and bushy red tail of a fox, with fierce orange eyes. At the moment, their segmented armour offered no protection against the rain and some shivered in the relenting cold. Their elegant katanas rubbed against their sides as each checked their long bows to ensure they were in completely working order. They peered through their distinctly peaked helmets and nose guards at the brown blob that was the enemy army.7

The Draken Armies were made of squat, almost rotting beings. With a lack of armour or intelligence, they replied on numbers to overwhelm their opponents. Some had helmets, some had chest armour, some had swords, axes, spears or hammers, none were uniformly equipped or armed. They looked as they were, a mixture of beings corrupted by the crystal and recruited into an army programmed to destroy.8

However, when the Xiscapians glanced down from their cliff, they would see more of an army spread out in front of them. Unlike the Draken warriors, this one was more organised and disciplined, a rainbow of colours, weapons and creatures.9

Beneath them were the pale-skinned Isans. The taller, more slender and elegant Isans stood with their longer bows in formations. They bore black leather armour and stood, waiting for the enemy.10

In front of them were the Humans, these were wearing bright bronze armour in long Corinthian helmets, each was decorated with long plumes of colourful hair or feathers. They were all equipped with the same items, long, slender spears, several times the size of a man as well as a large, round shield. They stood apparently quiet but one close enough could hear them praying or shivering from cold and fear.11

Behind them but in front of the Isans were the Veela themselves, the former owners of the crystal and now determined to take it back. The tall, slender rabbit like Veela. They wore no armour, simply a cloak which was billowing in the wind. They stood with one hand on the double handed swords by their side. Elegant, wise, pacifist and almost exclusively female.12

Then, the largest group facing the Draken Army were the Morphen, the superpower of Athlas. They were each dressed in a silver army that seemed to shine even without the sun, they resembled Elves, with long, delicately pointed ears and lightly tanned skin. They stood in a minor order, waiting, eyes closed, psyching themselves up for the battle to follow.13

Then, the final group that made the up the grand Army of the Alliance were the Dratherians, a breed of warriors, born to fight, to die for their freedom. They were the muscled reptiles, tall, powerful, each wearing heavy armour and a huge two handed axe that could cut a man clean in two with a single cut. They were standing, eying the enemy with a combination of anger and delight. They waited.14

Then the army of Draken began to move forward, with a deep rumble of trumpets and thousands of feet stepping on the muddy ground. The Xiscapians caught their breath. There was no end to the Daemons as they were known.15

Then, the two stopped just a few hundred paces apart. The Human hoplites stood facing the Draken Daemons, shielding the Dratherian axemen, the Veela and Morphen Swordsmen and the Xiscapian and Isan Archers from the Draken Weapons. It would not be long before an unseen Lord Downdon gave the order and the greatest battle of history would begin.16

The Xiscapians gulped and looked down again at their allies below them. They had never left their own kingdom except to conquer and they had never seen the faces of these people except on the other end of their weapons. Now they had to place their lives in the hands of ‘humans’ even the word sounded ridiculous, the warlike and crude Dratherians and the aloof, elite Morphen and Veela. Not the people they would have chosen to fight alongside.17

Silence followed. Only the sounds of the rain beating on armour, on weapons, on shields, could be heard. Both sides quietly sized each other up.18

Then the Daemons raised their weapons in the air and gave a shrill, echoing battle cry, a long terrible shriek as the moving mass of Daemons began to move forward into a charge.19

The Dratherians responded with their own howling battle cry that sounded like a terrible roar. It was augmented by the harsh clash of weapons on armour as they beat their weapons against their chest plates with enough force to knock a man over. The Veela and Morphen stood quiet and focused. Battle was about to be joined.20

Over the sudden eruption of noise, the Xiscapians could hear a quiet call from their own ranks, a call in Xiscapian that could only be heard by their sensitive hearing,21

“Vapem mar asanat!” the cry ordered.22

The Xiscapians, acting as one, pulled a long, slender arrow from the quivers mounted on their backs, they quickly and elegant slipped it into their bows and pulled the strings firmly back. They took aim, standing and waiting. The Daemons were getting closer, there was no more looking at their Allies, it was too late for that. Everything now depended on everybody performing their own task.23

The Daemons were getting closer and closer, soon they would be on top of the Human hoplites, who were still standing watching them.24

“Samona livdama!” A call came out and instantly, a gust of wind was stirred up by the sudden release of hundreds of arrows simultaneously, the Xiscapians watched as they joined hundreds more from the Isans below them, they watched as their storm of sharpened death fell amongst the charging ranks, watched as entire groups seems to collapse, penetrated by two, three even four arrows.25

Delighted with the results, they snatched another arrow each from their quivers and fired again.26

Down just behind the humans, the Morphen watched as the first ranks fell with relief, the initial wave had been defeated and now the next would fall to human spears.27

As if reading his mind, a deep, drawn out roar seemed to echo along the human line,28

“Shields up!”29

Acting as one again, each human lowered his spear as well as swinging his shield around to present a solid wall of spears to the Daemons. The Daemons came forward regardless, demonstrating the courage only numbers could give you. They ran forward into the massed ranks of human spears.30

The Draken Daemons crashed into the human spears, almost an entire rank impaled itself on their tips before the others came forward and pushed forward, using their comrades spear riddled bodies as shields. The humans began to give ground, being driving back by the force of numbers. Now, the other ranks began to move forward to join the battle, to drive against the Draken. This would be the key element of the battle, how the outnumbered Veela, Morphen, Dratherians, Isans and Humans would handle the brawl with the Daemons that had burned their countries to the ground.31

The mixture of races now charged forward, the Dratherians finally let off the leash, the terrified Isans and the methodical Veela and Morphen. As they ran, the Veela drew their long double bladed swords while the Morphen drew empty sword hilts. Then, like rain in reverse, strange drops of silver appeared from their hilts and formed themselves into a slightly curved sword. When the blades were fully formed, they glowed in various colours, from red to blue, grey to black, they stuck out on a battlefield filled with dark blacks, greys and browns.32

Then, the clash to end all clashes as both armies seemed to merge into one as both sides collided, dozens on both sides fell within seconds to the swirling blades, swinging axes and prodding spears.33

John was one of humans who had dropped their spears, thrown off their helmets, drawn their swords and joined the swirling battle for their homes. He watched as one of the Daemons came for him, swinging a sword. However, as he readied himself to receive the blow, a massive axe appeared out of nowhere and severed the Daemon’s head from his body in a lone swing. John glanced over his head to see a Dratherian holding his axe over his head, roaring his victory.34

The ground beneath him was already thick with bodies, mostly Daemons but there were a few Humans, Isans and Veela staring lifeless up at him from the mud, some had obvious wounds, like blackening blood drying on their faces, while others looked like they could just be sleeping. John stepped forward through the twirling masses of battle.35

John watched in astonishment as a lone Morphen faced seemingly dozens of Daemons alone. He watched as the Elf lowered his glowing grey sword and stretched his hand out,36

John could not belief what he saw as a chasm opened in the battlefield, allowing dozens of Daemons to fall screaming into the ground. He closed it up as he did so then turned to face another enemy, parrying and lunging skilfully at the Draken warriors that enclosed him.37

John managed to cut a Daemon out of his way then block another before that one was grabbed and thrown away from behind by another Dratherian. There seemed to be no end to the battle, with swirling and clashing blades as far as the eye could see. Even the Xiscapians had now abandoned their cliff and joined the battle, more and more of both sides were falling but, from what could be seen, the Allies were winning.38

Then, one corner of the battle seemed to stop, both sides stopped clashing and turned to face a lone, six foot six figure as he came forward into the battlefield, seemingly unarmed. John was amongst the allies and Daemons that had stopped to watch this new figure. He was wearing a black Corinthian helmet so no one could see his face but John was with everyone else and he knew who it was. It was the evil conductor if the entire war, the reason they were all fighting here in the first place. Lord Downdon.39

A Dratherian roared a challenge and came forward, his axe above his head. He ran at the Draken lord from the side while he continued to move forward, ignoring his attacker. Then, lazily, he rose a hand at the Dratherian Warrior and shot a bolt of lightning at him. The crowd watched, stunned as the lightning struck the Dratherian, blowing him back into the centre of the battlefield.40

Two Xiscapians came forward, katanas raised in anticipation of an attack, Lord Downdon continued forward. Again, a snatch of lightning felled both attackers. John knew he was. Lord Downdon was a Morphen, unfortunately for him, so was most of the Allied Army.41

Now, the Morphen stepped forward, nine of them. All had weapons drawn, curved weapons of blue, red, green, yellow, purple, black, gold, silver and grey. Downdon made a noise while vaguely sounded like laughter. He took out his own sword, a yellow sword. Then all six clashed together.42

The rest of the battle stopped. Everyone knew that the fate of Athlas rested with the swirling and clashing blades. With every four clash, a crack of lightning hit the battlefield, striking down Allies and Draken alike. Then all ten combatants began to rise on pillars of stone, coming out of the ground. Each was on their own pillars as each tried to hit the long dark lord, while he easily deflected attacks from all of them. Then all nine Morphen combined their swords, touching them together to form a ball of pure while light. The entire battlefield was then lit up like day time, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. They watched in astonishment as the ball of light hit Lord Downdon, pushing him into mid-air. The Armies watched as he seemed to just disintegrated, his weapon falling to the ground. Everyone watched in stunned silence. The nine Champions had triumphed over Lord Downdon. The Daemons, without the apparent control of the crystal embedded in Lord Downdon, turned to dust.43

The Allies were victorious.