Sabish Kaah stood by the forge and mumbled irritably.
The rage was starting to build up in Atlantis. The Agarthans refused to give up their relentless attacks. They had even ventured under the waves with their awakened statues. The attacks had so far been repelled by the brave Kings and their loyal shamblers. But many had died and the death of a deep king was a serious issue in Atlantis. Some even talked about sending in the main force, but those were still silenced by wiser and older members of the Deep order.
The report from the last battle in Arcocephales former capitol was like the others before it. Two of the most notorius kings had died and taken the bulk of Agarthan forces with them. Most shamblers and the captured arcocephalian elephants was also slain. It seemed the agarthans had intensified their summonings. And some new foul and ethereal beings had been sighted on the battlefield. An enormous living statue of pitch black stone had been crushed by Jolkuna herself. In the end they had won, eight kings drenched in blood gazing thoughtfully after the fleeing cavemen. Jolkuna chasing them, mad with bloodlust as always. But could they really be called victorious, when two dear friends lay dead in the mud?
Sabish Kaah sighed, and put the newly forged frost brand amongst the other. Never before had the demand for tools of destruction seemed so endless.
@fungalreason: Damn you! Why do you always have to kill the one telling the story?
