The Battle for the Realm

In a time forgotten by earth, long before the technologies and luxuries that we lavishly enjoy now, a much simpler time when battles were not won and lost in the safe havens provided by rooms full of computers and missile launching equipment.  A time before the invention of guns and weapons of mass destruction, there was a time when battles where won through courage, strength, valor, and even a little magic.1

Our champion finds himself injured badly and bleeding in the forests of the frontier land, but it's nothing a few incantations cannot take care.  He is separated from his fellow adventurers lost in the forests beyond his realms gates.  The mass influx of the Albion hordes still have him dazed and confused, not sure whether his friends are ok or whether they were among the numbers killed by the Albion raiders.  He finds himself stumbling about looking for some sign of allies.2

As he runs through the forest he is consumed with an eerie feeling.  The power of his cloak tells him that there are infiltrators nearby.  He spins around in anticipation of an attack.  Not to leave him disappointed two infiltrators come running for him.  Still cloaked, he has no idea of their approach.  At the last minute they are uncovered.  The power of his cloak has revealed them to him.3

"I have you now!  Prepare to suffer my wrath," our champion proclaims.  And suffer his wrath they shall for they turn to run but are not prepared for his mighty attacks.  In their moment of panic they fail to realize that turning their back on him was a dire mistake.  He swings his mighty axe at them and performs his devastating annihilation attack, stunning one of the infiltrators while the other continues to flee.  4

Our champion begins to mutter under his breath while continuing his assault on the infiltrator.  For every few words he mutters the infiltrator grows weaker and just as the stun starts to wear off and he is able to run again, our champion spins around in front of him and attacks with his mighty frontal assault, but alas he misses and the infiltrator starts to make a break for it.  Just then, two dark purple bolts fly across his field of vision and strike down the infiltrator.  At last his friends have caught up with him and he's reunited with his treasured allies.5

They pause for a few moments so that the tender Druid has time to work her magic and heal his wounds.  Suddenly, the mighty Firblog Hero hears something.  "Horses are approaching," he exclaims.  Still battle scarred from the pervious fights the champion stands to his feet and backs out the order, "get ready!"  Like the pounding of their hearts the hoof beats get louder and louder until they are nearly on top of them.6

Just as they peak over the hill the adventurers see them.  Fifty of them and all are angry, blood thirsty Midguard invaders.  "Fall back!" the hero barks loud and bold.  They make a dash for the nearby keep of Dun Da Behn.  For every step they take it begins to feel like their last as the horses draw closer and closer.  Just as they come over the hill, eyeing Dun Da Behn in sight they see it.  There are nearly a hundred of them, standing ready.  It's as if they knew our adventurers would run this way.  Then it happened, all of their fellow Hibernian adventurers started running toward the Midguard horde, faster and faster.  Soon they catch up with our adventurers and absorb them into their flock.  Our adventurers quickly turn about and begin running with their numbers as the Midguard enemies stop.  "Take no prisoners!" the confident leader of the Midguard horde shouts.  Just then the two masses of opposing realms merge into one.  Healers line both sides of the valleys trying to keep their people alive as the spell casters line the outside of the battle arena flinging any and every incantation they can to destroy each other's hordes.  In the thick of it are the melee fighters and hybrid fighters doing what they can to thin each others hordes.7

As quickly as it started, it was over, ending in a clap of thunder.  The dust settles and very few remain standing.  The Midguard hordes are dispatched but at a terrible cost.  Many of the Hibernian fighters now lie on the ground wounded, or dead.  Those that are able, start to crawl over to the healers range to receive the medical attention required.  Among the standing are our badly injured and battle torn adventurers, whom have so valiantly endured several attacks that day.8

As they ride away from the lush plains and back into the forests near their homeland they notice the sun beginning to rise over the land.  All was quiet.  Anxious to return home and enjoy the peaceful tranquility that the lands of Hibernia have to offer, they hear a noise off in the distant.  Sure enough it is the battle cries of their allies engaging in another battle with the opposing realms.  9

What should have been a peaceful holiday from the many fights in the frontiers has made a sharp turn back into battle.  As our adventurers return to the outskirts of the frontiers they wonder what lies ahead for them just over the hill.  They begin to long for the comfort and warmth of home, but as they say, "there is no rest for the wicked."10