[Baalz]

The gates of Sauromatia fall, and the bloody god demands fresh blood in appeasement. After a brief stare at the ominously silent nation of R’yleh it was decided that now was not the time to march underwater. This left the vanir cousins for consideration. Helheim appears otherwise occupied, but perhaps a bit much to bite off. Vanheim, on the other hand appears ripe for the plucking. The trick will be to start and finish the conquest quickly enough that the hungry Helheim and R’yleh have no chance to notice us otherwise engaged.

“Very well” said high priest Baalz, “First we shut down their capital. We must minimize the number of heavily blessed Vans we face on the battlefield. Let their crops wither and die, I want every drop of rain to become a toad until their population drowns under the rotting corpses. Next, open the gates of Inferno, I want their country to burn. Let no corner of their kingdom be spared, imps should raid from the mountain tops to the swamps and find everywhere their glamoured troops are not. Finally, march forth with the mighty Jaguar Warrior host which has just finished sacking Sauromatia, for somewhere in these red-flag territories lie the tricksie hidden defenders.”

As the nation of Vanheim caught fire and began to burn, the hidden defenders quickly found that glamour and fancy moves alone was no match for the hungry Jaguar Warriors. Dozens upon dozens of huskurls gave their lifeblood to the ground and the bloody god was, for a time satiated. Then, the scouts reported a more formidable defensive force trying to sneak upon us. Behind a impressive phalanx of huskurls several dwarves were seen practicing sending huge clouds of spinning blades out, sure to decimate the lightly armored Jaguar Warriors. Towering above them all was an immensely magically powerful Frost Father, the self styled god of the Vanir.

“No, that’s not going to work for me, I will not have our noble warriors cut down in swaths by those dirt grubbing rock slugs, bring me their heads before the battle.” No sooner had the order been given than a swarm of seething disease demons flew forth to deliver. All dwarves were slain (ethereal disease demons weren’t impressed with the blade winds), though the demon which attacked the Frost Father had to be content to infect him with a lethal disease before being blasted back to the abyss.

“This is still not satisfactory, that Frost Father alone has enough power to level a city, I will not send our troops to die under that vile deluge.”

“But your holiness, how can we hope to assassinate such a powerful creature? No assassin in existence can hope to challenge him one on one!”

“I have been keeping something for just this occurrence, bring forth the black bows.” The terrible black bows were brought out of the vault, and given to lesser warriors that they might win some glory. They would have but a few shots apiece before they must retreat – no point risking the valuable bows. By high priest Baalz’ orders, only militia and slave chaff would be sent forth for this fight – the Jaguar warriors would be held in reserve until the Van’s support was broken. The one exception being that vile Bogus creature, having offended the high priest with his vulgar behavior Baalz had ordered him to hold the center of the front line to give the archers time to work…and work they did.

Now the Vanheim host sits virtually leaderless at the foot of the former Sauromatian capital, surrounding a feebleminded and diseased wretch they still worship with not a mage to be seen within a hundred leagues. There is no hope of reinforcements, their capital stands all but abandoned, their fields burn and but a few territories were able to fight off the imps. The Jaguar warrior host prepares to make a truly fitting blood sacrifice in honor of another successful conquest. We salute our latest opponent and will honor you in death by offering you directly to the bloody god.