warriors

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 An extra one for members

They are coming!

For some time now our border patrols have seen increasing incursions into our mountain home land in the north, from the demon hordes that scour our beloved land, slaughtering all who stand before them.

There is nowhere for us to run. Only a few short miles to the north is the great void that was formed with the sundering of the land. Our glorious towers stand proud against the mountains and are surely a beacon to all. They would plunder our sacred knowledge of glass and steel seeking advantage over their enemies.

So it has come to this, we must choose the side that we'll be on. To side with one or other demon faction or stand alone and fall alone but claim the moral victory. We know now it is only a matter of time. A few months, maybe a year and we will be overrun. So to choose. Once we do, of course our fate is set. We will have no second choice. The council debates ever more fervently...

... as death draws ever nearer...

Here's a special an alternative image for members

I dream of worlds that are somehow different, where metal does not gleam and plastics do not exist. A world where technology is different, where magic is common place and supernatural beings inhabit the world as real as I am. To be rid of this technology is something I dream of everyday. How dull I find it. How mundane and ordinary my life is here upon this orbiting space station.

And somewhere across the vastness of space in a world torn asunder by war and famon there is demon of the underworld who sits upon a throne of skulls and blood - the trophies of his victims and enemies and wishes he were elsewhere. Anywhere but here in a world accursed, where demon battles demon and elves and humans seek sanctuary from the ravening horde. He dreams of a world where ships fly through space and technology is his to control. And he thinks how mundane his life is. Yet for him, there is no release. This he knows and he returns to plotting his next military campaign with a sigh....

Upon the fields of Amon-Ravu there is much death and suffering. There is the screeching clang of metal striking metal. Screams of agony. Howls of victory. All can be heard for miles around and all sane folk would do well to turn and flee. And the stench of death is everywhere. For on hte fields of Amon-Ravu a fiersome battle rages.

The hordes of the north clashed here with the first battalion of our lord bAdvibe two days ago. The battle rages on. How quickly it would have finished were it not for demon kinds uncanny ability to re-vitalise their broken bodies and rejoin the fight. But now the end appears to be in-site. It is clear now that bAdvibe has lost this day. His forces are ragged and the horns sound the retreat with a voice of thunder.

But for the Ellenvera there is no retreat. She hears the horns pierce the din of the battlefield but knows that she will die this day. Her soul will be consumed by her enemies and this knowledge gives her tired limbs new strength. She will not give up lightly. She is a queen amongst her kind. She will show these vermin such death and misery before they take her that songs will be sung of her forever more.

Death to the demon horde. Death to all....