[Anaconda]

This manuscript, written by an unkown voice of the lord, was confiscated when the rebuilding began after the Machakan-Ermorian War. It was delivered to the prophet him self for his considerations.


My eye-witness account of the Battle of White Peaks (as we became to know it)

I finished my education in the temple of He Whose Name Should not be Said long after the war had begun between the walking dead and spiders of the God forest. When the high priests finally announced I am ready to serve the one and true god, the war still reigned in South. In hurry, I gathered all my belongings (that was; temple garments and some minor trinkets) and ran South to attend the army of proud and noble Machaka people. I was eager to do my own part by encouraging and blessing our spiders and men-at-arms alike.

My endurance is weak, but traveling with new well-made sandals and light backpack I made haste and reached the army encamped in the pass of White Peaks. It was late summer, but the sun was high from morning till late afternoon every day, and it was still very very hot. In Machaka kingdom it usually is all year long. Later, when we marched south, I was told by veterans that in south the darkness reigns and there might be days we wont see the sun at all.



When I finally reached the army, the camp was in hassle; Ermorian skeletons, undead horses and evil wizards were approaching. The scouts had brought disturbing news only few days ago. The dead on horse were so tall and so numerous that they would block out the sun. The newly-appointed – for me at least - commander Martell laughed that the only light we would need was the light of our magical fire.

I was hearty welcomed as every hand and leg was needed, no matter were you a warrior, a spider or a priest. The Ermor would show up with their full numbers any time. Because the undead wont get tired, their march was fast and at the morning of the day after tomorrow the pass was swarming half rotten monsters. With them came the unholy darkness. And cold wind.

Our runners had been trying to spot the troops enemy had with 'em. It became apparent that the core of their army consisted of longdead horsemen. They would charge the field with the speed of lighting and overrun our first lines easily. Ermor had brought also rag-tag archers with them, and in the front handfull of unknown gigantic monsters from distant lands shook the ground, driving all possible camp followers – harlots and merchants alike – away.



But the most dangerous troops were non of above. The Ermorians supported their undead cavalrymen with fearsome number of mature and experienced praetorian infantry. Those, our leaders knew, would be our undoing... Our troops had no steel to match theirs, and no experience at all if compared to them. The wise men from all villages had been working months now to figure out the riddle of magical fire arrows. The breakthrough was there lying in front of their eyes... yet so was the Ermorian farmy, only few days too early.

The army was led by several grand theurgs, experienced and wicked old men who were told to be enslaving virgin girls from all conquered villages for their amusement as much as for their food. I think this was only a horror story told by mothers to their small spider children so they would behave.



The commander Martell, after hearing the strenght of their dead on horse, decided he should spread the spider groups all across the field. Therefore, spiders were found from both flanks and from the very front of our center. Militias and light infantry were located on our right flank, and archers took center and left. The amount of our heavy infantry was so puny, that they were ordered to guard the rear for tricks and charge the field only if everything else should fail.

It was widely known that enemy's wizards could kill hundreds of troops with their malign magic. Therefore Him, Whose Name Should not be Spoken, had cometh him self to protect us from the enemy's evilry. On the other hand, ours was magical fire. Young and old tribal sorceress' from the all corners of the nation had gathered to the pass of White Peaks to make fire rain from the sky on the enemy. All priests were assigned to banish undead enemies, though it was known that theurgs could protect them well.






The battle begun with spells. Wizards from the both sides targeted troops with battle magic: flares, flame bolts, paralyzes, cold bolts, as well as protective spells such as anti magic, protection of sepulchre and legions of steel were seen all around the field. While neat and effective, our fire spell reserve was in short supply and it became fast clear that our sorceress' could not match the enemy's wizards in hurting.

Ermor, against all expectations, did not throw their cavarly on us in the beginning. The dead horses stood calmly still, and waited while our spiders crossed the field to meet their front. Instead, they sent the enormous, four-legged monsters to take out our spiders. Spiders were already spitting web, when they met. A single longdead horseman burned like a torch somewhere in the back. His unholy howl of agony devastetad our minds.



Then, suddenly the whole army of the undead moved forward, and slaughter begun. Hoplites grew jumpy, and charged the field passing the archers and trying to reach the spiders before it was their time to march in. It appeared to have been a critical – success. They held the line long after the spiders were done.



The sounds and colors of a full scale magic battle were as beautifull as they were horrifying. I had never experienced anything like this. Red, yellow, pitch black, white, blue... they were all present among hundreds of other colors I had never seen before (and thus didnt know what to call them).



When Ermor ranks grew thinner, the theurgs started reanimating new undead from recently dead soldiers. Our troops, already high with hopes of victory were overcome by fear. The abominations just would not stay down.



The center of both armies held, but the left of both armies make some progress. Ermor routed spiders and infantry on their left, and heavy infantry swept Machaka's left empty of undead. The fresh undead hurried to fill the gaps on Ermor's right. Machaka archers ran out of arrows at this point, and were formed up to meet the undead in a fierce melee.



While the archers and hoplites leveled the Ermor's right all the way to the end, archers were needed in the center and Machaka's right, too. With commander Oberyn Martell leading the way with his flamewhip, archers engaged the Ermor's leftovers in the center of the battlefield.



Eventually archers and hoplites worked their bloody way up to the theurgs. Some of them chose to keep their honor and stood, rather than run like the rest. Theurgs fell last, slain by the Machaka's stern archers in a melee.



The commander Oberyn Martell was awarded the role of supreme commander of all Machaka armies for his abilities to lead with example as well as demonstrate tactical understanding. He became very popular among troops and young tribal girls showed up to honor and please this great man. On the other hand, losses were unbearable even on our side. It took the army more than a month to reach the condition to take the field again. But when we did, we marched straight south in order to help prophet Johannes' siege around Ermor's seat of power. We met some Ermor garrison on our way, but they could not put up serious resistance.

While the nation of Ermor was not yet beaten, it was the turningpoint of the Ermorian-Machakan War and made the collapse of the undead empire inevitable.





Because of being exhausted from the prolonged conflict, Johannes chose to read the manuscript and have hes rest before accepting any envoys from other kingdoms.