[Sedna]

Turn 30, R'lyeh

The siege continues.

I am hungry every night now. My troops continue to be well fed. Well, sand and seaweed fills stomachs anyway and stops em from complaining for a while. The sharks don't seem to like it so much, and have definitely been eyeing up their riders. But I! I am the supreme ruler of this land. I need fresh blood! I need sacrifice and pain, or...

The walls are everywhere. Stretching high and tall, impenetrable, impregnable, impervious. There is no where to hide. Just one victory before the thousand googly eyes. One fight on the blood stained sand, and he could be exalted, praise, lauded, treasured. When he died, preserved, not eaten. But the obsidian sword knocked aside his shield, and drew blood, and he knew fear. He gazed into the eyes of his foe, a young lad, for whom this contest would mean so much. While for him, returning to slavery, as a lower being in the new world order. And when the black sword came again he welcomed it.

A motley force, a few brave arrows, and thundering over the plain, a score of madmen with blades as long as your leg. They threw themselves over the spear, over the tridents, and swords. They wrenched crossbow bolts from whence they lodged themselves in their limbs and hacked until the pieces were too small to get back up, covering the grass in slippery red.

There once was a race of tall men, who built towers on the shores of the sea.
And they dwelt in these towers, over the sea, and watched for the death that would come.
But the men in their towers grew lazy and rich, and abandoned their watch on the sea.
And the storm when it came, on little cats paws, buried their world 'neath the waves.