[Darkwind]

I'm not sure I'll have the time to get everything I want down, but I have time to get the two 'big' stories down, I hope. Also I need to save the name Zukkekon.
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Cyy Coth walked upwards through the beach. He broke through the waves quietly, concentrating on stealth. Ahead of him lay a dense jungle. Behind him lay the Sea of Lantan, recently annexed into the domain of Atlantis.

There was a crash as the Triton Knights charged into Cyy. Their long spears and lances did nothing to him. He batted idly at the Knights as his wife moved in from behind him to begin helping him to provide the beating. In a few minutes, the Knights were scattering wildly as the main part of the defense rolled in. The triton militia stabbed into him, but by Critias's divine power their spears did little and, though he could feel their poison running through him, he felt divine magic keeping it at bay, even repairing his body. They fared even worse, scattering fear after facing the gargantuan Atlantian royalty.

The dense jungles were reported to be home of the Lanka, a race of monkey beings, and their demonic masters. And, he knew, these demons ruled over themselves by a pretender to the throne of Pantokrator. This pretender claimed to be King of All Sources of Water, he claimed to be the Turner of the Flood. And he demanded territory in the sea. I could walk into that jungle right now, Cyy Coth thought, and destroy the Lankan rabble defending it. I could put an end to this farce of a god. But, he knew, he could not. He would fall in the end, he knew it.

"An officer will be coming soon to investigate, regardless of how stelathy we are. We must be off soon. We can't fight the entire Lankan Army--or an entire army, dear. We are not gods, that is why I serve Critias." Zukkekon's voice was slow and heavy. She began her descent to the sea floor and home, or close to it than this strange world.

Cyy Coth threw the inscribed shell on the ground and turned back to the sea.
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"We been under their rule a while now. Ain't too much difference, under them or those bastards afore them. At least these Abyssians care enough not to rape our daughters when they get drunk, not that they'd get anything but a burnt corpse." The barkeep barked and spat on the floor. "But enough about us in Serpent Hills. What news d'you have, stranger?"

Inutho considered his words carefully. "These Abyssians, the ones that conquered you? They're expanding. I've been travelling the conquered territories, seeing what's there, what they do. They swoop in, destroy the local guards, instill a couple of loyal Abyssian officers, they move out for new lands."

"Hah! That's not news. So where does a frog-man like you, runnin' around an' spyin' on everyone an' all, come from, anyways? Men on fire, that I can believe-some crazy bastard of a wizard got angry, cursed a poor guy. But a frog-man? What sorta ugly guy was your dad, he went out with a toad?"

Inutho stood up. "Consider your next words carefully. I suggest you apologize for the insult."

Another short bark. "You ain't gonna do nothin' to me, you twisted little mutant, you freak o' nature."

When the barkeep was sufficiently gutted, Inutho dragged the body behind the saloon--that was what these barbarians called them, it seemed--and lit it on fire to hide the method the man died. Who it was would be obvious, in a small town like this. Inutho's only hope was to get away as fast as possible. Always on the run, always trying to be one step ahead of his pursuers. A scout is supposed to stay stealthy and gather information, but Inutho had never made a very good scout--he left a trail of blood wherever he went.

"Hey! What you doin'?" The low, deep voice was brimming over with poorly-concealed rage. Inutho already knew he was dealing with one of the worse specimens of Abyssian.

Inutho swerved and began running full-speed to the east.
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And I only get to the two. Oh well. Better than none.
Edit: Also, isn't it turn 11, not turn 8?