[Darkwind]

Because a backup is always nice, here is my story(s) for turn 3. For the records, the battles and such were resolved on turn 4. It's a bit confusing with the stories always being a turn behind the game, though. I'll live I guess.
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Divine power raced through her. Hafeg Klah felt alive as she never had before; looking beside her, she saw Neriglissar in a state of bliss--their god was giving him power, as well. With a single phrase, Hafeg created a divine insurance--any heathens who attacked her would feel the wrath of Critias, Prince of the Deeps.

In front of the couple ranged a small army, a militia hastily assembled from the people of this strange, bright land. They marched forward, wary of the great club Hafeg held, but unwilling to desert. Even armored, she knew they would be no match for a King and Queen of the Basalt City. But they marched onward, keeping their spears carefully between them and her.

She ran forward to meet them as her husband did, and the battle began. The spears grazed Hafeg and Neriglissar, while their attacks laid waste to the enemy force. The lighter force was quickly destroyed, and Hafeg could see even the veterans about to--

A spear forced its way into her upper arm as she was bashing a spearman. Hafeg roared, and the spear snapped as she rammed the militia, sending him flying into a tree. The rest turned and ran. Hafeg ran after them, knocking even more into the ground. As the last few fled the scene, Hafeg calmed and groaned--the wound that spear had given her was deep, and would not heal well.
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Eios watched warily as the dark things walked through the gates of the small fort. His father and king had deserted him, and now he was left to attend to the Kingdom of Corwell. Though, from the size of those menacing beasts, he would not be king for much longer.

One of them made a garbled sort of sound at him, followed by the other. The first one, with the staff, made a disgusting sort of coughing noise, and then, "Hello," in a slow drawl.

"Hello?"

"Are you the...king?"

"I am the king's son. But my father has fled, so I suppose I am now."

"Where is this place?"

"This is the White Keep. It's a fallback for when the palace seems under pressure, not that this place is much safer."

"Where is this place?" The one with the club spoke now, in a barely-intelligible accent.

"It's, err, it's in Corwell."

"Corwell?"

"Yes. Corwell. That is the name of the kingdom, the Kingdom of Corwell."

"The Kingdom of...Corwell. This place is ours now. You bow to Critias, the Prince of the Deeps." The one with the staff moved towards the door into the throne room, and Eios nervously ushered it inside.
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It was my first battle, really. It wasn't supposed to be such a bloody start to my career. I positioned my better-armored troops in the front. They still crumpled. They were fighting Ichtyid militia! But the nets entangled the men, and their weapons did the rest. I should have given them shields, I should have gone out there myself. I never got the chance to fight, even. I ran behind the Deep Ones loping towards the Ichtyids. My men died like flies. I suppose I should be glad the enemy died faster.

At least the Deep Ones ate well.
-Cax Kulu, shortly after the Battle of the Nelanther Sea
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Zhigg was attended to by a Basalt King flanked with Living Pillars. Zhigg looked uneasily at his own men. His Shamblers were no match for the Pillars, and the Basalt King was both physically and magically more powerful than Zhigg.

"So, you consider yourself a commander?"

"I am leader of a small band of Shamblers, from the deeper caves below the Basalt City. My lord."

"And?"

"My magic has shown to me that my tribe is doomed to destruction if I do not follow Critias. I took what men would follow me and lead them here. My lord."

"Very well. I will take one of your men to lead me down to the rest. You may join our armies, you and your tribe. Go."

The Basalt King was in the door already when Zhigg asked, "And what shall I do?"

The King turned. "You said to the guards outside the city that you yourself made that staff of yours. Did you not?"

"I did."

A hint of greed came into the King's eyes. "Then make me a weapon..."