Author: Mammonn, Posted: Mon Oct 1, 2018 12:04 PM, Post Subject: You're on my turf now, bug. [O][EVENT]

With some strain, physically only present in the form of the dull thumping on his temples and the headaches that it caused, Girshu continues to struggle with the frost elves for control of the weather. They were resisting him, preventing him from making the blizzard clear up. It was futile, as they were so much further away and casting their magic over such massive areas of land while he was only focussing on this little strip in front of him. And he was a much better cryomancer too, of course. It would take more than three of them to keep him from taking over control.

The blizzard ends, sputtering out quickly as if something was choking its throat shut and actively stopped it from blowing its wind and snow out over the pass. The insectoids look up as they see the sun and look at the snow white landscape around them, the blizzard lessening into a soft snowfall in just a few minutes. They click something, presumably praising the gorgeous sight that was the snowscape, no doubt. They then get up and start grabbing their stuff to continue their march to Hifae.

Girshu smiles, looking at how his control over the blizzard allowed them to properly see and navigate again. At this rate, they could make it to the elven city in a matter of hours. Before nightfall even, perhaps? Girshu didn't know, or cared that much. He was just doing what he had to do.

The creatures were invading the civilised races of this world, apparently, and were conquering rapidly with vigour and viciousness. They came from the sea and they quickly moved to conquer the islands. Upon hearing this Girshu had hurried back to his own glorious kingdom to rally to its defenses, only to find out that they were not being besieged. They hadn't even seen a single insectoid yet. Which meant that these insects were smarter than they looked. They knew better than to besiege such a powerful and great nation such as his', and instead focussed on such nuisances like the frost elves. Which was good, Girshu only wished those snowflake pixies the worst and would gladly see their civilisation crumble. And once the insectoids would leave Itjivut, his people could claim it.

[The real reason that the insectoids aren't trying to invade the frost salamanders is because they don't even know of the existence of this backwater kingdom, nor want to bother invading a region with zero food to reap from the area and such frigid temperatures.]

One particularly big and heavily armoured bug scream-wails loudly and the insectoids start marching again. In organised lines of four ant-like ones that were standing shoulder to shoulder with one of their higher and bigger winged bug sergeants every five rows, the front begins to move again. Marching through the small but easily accessible and consistent pass through the snowy hills, they were rapidly moving. The more sluggish siege-armament bugs and the literal slugs that were presumably their provision carts were slowly preparing to get moving as well behind the waiting soldiers.

Girshu remembered seeing these creatures the first time. After seeing that they weren't threatening his people and knew to respect their superiors, he bore no ill will to these creatures. They were clearly wiser than the frost pixies and those savage humans. But they were besieging Itjivut and their scouts were buzzing around the entire island trying to kill any lone target. Which Girshu was, as he was returning from his glorious nation to this irksome warmer region. He never really got a good look at them, he had just frozen the scouts mid-air and allowed the cold and suffocation of the sea water to handle the rest. And once he got onto the island, he had made sure that they hadn't noticed him.

The insectoids click amongst one another with their strange speech, none breaking formation or seeming annoyed. Which was admirable, they were certainly an organised lot. Organised and not thinking beyond their collective orders, which was a weakness. Them marching forwards despite the sun shining directly into their eyes and blinding them to everything that was ahead of them was just sheer stupidity. They were relying on their scouts too much, scouts that were either dead or unable to see the ambush.

One of the barbarians next to Girshu moves slightly and Girshu immediately grows more annoyed. Those damn savages better not ruin their own surprise attack. With the blizzard gone and the insectoids blinded by the sun, they had gotten the advantage that they had asked Girshu for. If they screwed it up, he wouldn't help them. The insects didn't notice though, they just continued to peer into the sun and march. 

A few minutes pass, as do the insects. They march past Girshu's location, past the ambush. A few dozen, then a dozen more. Girshu assumed that the warchief knew what he was doing. Well, they weren't tardy quite yet.

A few more minutes pass, and Girshu can sense that the barbarian next to him was getting antsy to smash some ants. Still nothing.

More insects pass by.

More time passes.

More slight movements from the barbarian.

And then…

Suddenly, the warchief of the Frey bear clan jumps up and screams loudly. The insectoids immediately stop marching and turn to him, while other barbarians of the frey bear clan follow their leader and scream. Then the frost giants, hearing this signal, scream and rise up. Buried deep underneath the snow at strategic locations near ice bearings, them getting up dishevels the snowy hills. The ground around Girshu's feet shakes as the hills around the pass turn into an avalanche.

Insects are swept up in the tide of snow and cold, and the barbarians roar. They run down the hills and begin to slash into the insectoids that came out whether unscathed or prone. The insects quickly rally to fight and protect their camp, but it's in vain. Their ambush had waited long enough, almost completely separating the rear garde and their provision slugs from the main army. Combined with the remnant soldiers still being blinded by the low sun and the confusion of the situation, the barbarians were quite likely to beat the insectoids here.

Girshu throws down some long-range frost magic into the camp while the barbarians haven't gotten there yet, and then looks over his shoulder at the other side of the avalanche. The insects on that side were rallying quickly, but they were still looking out for their own environment and their officers would need some time figuring out whether to send all their flying troops to go help the rear. And by then it would already be too late.

"Good job, lizardman!" The warchief says. "You really helped make sure that we'd catch them unaware on our terms!" The orc smiles and turns to the battlefield, where the frost giants were slamming their massive halberds into the insect formations to completely sweep away their defenses. The insectoid's spears and tower shield formations would've been very effective against the barbarian charge, expecially considering how fast the insects had taken this roman-esk formation, but they were useless against a bigger enemy whose weapon had a greater reach. And with the formation broken open, the bear-riding orcs could rush in and hack the insects to bits.

The slaughter wasn't the plan, however. They were after the slugs. Orcs quickly run to the big creatures and begin to throw salt at them. The slugs begin to bubble and writhe, screaming loudly with pathetic wails. Focussing the salt to one side and then pushing the snails over once their grip on either flank was broken, the orcs pushed them over and pulled their snail houses off their backs. Poison, necromancy, fire and whatever other means of destroying the food supplies quickly were used to destroy the contents within the shells.

"Civilised, savage, alien. Doesn't matter who they are, anyone on the Rafandi plains will soon starve when their food supply is gone. Not a tactic I like using, but these creatures shouldn't be faced in honourable combat. So says our god, the werebear god. Both of them this time, so you know must be true." The chieftain says.

"I asssume you'll leave their ssiege beetless be? Either they losse a lot of men to the famine and cold lugging thosse along the long way round now that the passsage iss gone, or they'll leave the beetless to freezse and die themsselvess anyway."

"Jup, we leave them. Just the food. Which I say we did quite well." The chieftain says, before taking out a horn and blowing it. His tribesmen immediately begin to retreat, most of them quickly grabbing the ropes that were tied to the bears. A wayfarer quickly takes the rope by the bear's neck to guide the beast along, guiding it and the orcs holding on to it. Which would be needed, as all but the wayfarers who trained magic and skill to navigate through the snowstorms would be blinded and lost soon enough.

As they do so, the blizzards roll in rapidly. Girshu hadn't only stopped holding them back, he was quickly conjuring up a blizzard spell of his own to speed up the process and ensure that the storm would be really intense. So intense that many an insect wouldn't even know they'd gotten out of the snow by the time that they crawled their way out of the avalanche.

A horde of flying insects buzzes over them angrily, some courageously diving in to attack the retreating orcs despite the clouds and frost closing in and already blurring their view of the ground. Screams of orcs and bears in pain could be heard, followed by the sound of battle. But there were just a few of such cases, just the fastest few of the flying insectoids had gotten there in time. The battles were nothing compared to what the hundreds that flown overhead could've caused.

As the barbarians retreat in the cover of the blizzard, the orc chieftain thanks Girshu again and tells him to rally back at their camp soon. Girshu nods but mostly focusses on the camp underneath. He wasn't as fast as the orcs, so he wasn't going to retreat. He'd much rather use the cover of the blizzard to hide and wait for the insects to move on.

Girshu quickly slides down the hills, killing a few struggling and suffocating half-buried insects on the way. A shiny weapon catches his eye and Girshu picks up the rapier. It looked a lot better than the one he had, more snazzy. Girshu grabs it and continues moving.

Soon enough he reaches his destination. A little pond of water, frozen over. Girshu breaks through the ice and quickly submerges underneath it. The ice quickly forms again above him, with the exception of his air tube. As a frost salamander it was a second nature to wait here for days if he had to. He could've buried himself in the snow just as easily, but with the insects digging out their own the risk of being found was too great. Here they shouldn't be looking for survivors, and he could drown a few if they did stumble across him.

The blizzard rages above him, preventing the flying insects from landing safely and freezing the disorientated and already undercooled soldiers. Such was the way of the frozen wastes. Hundreds would die in these conditions. The insects were screaming and shouting, trying to rally. But with the blizzard slowing them down and their camp cut in two, they would have to resign to either leaving half their army behind to die or all of them dying from the famine. Either was fine.

As the hours pass, Girshu begins to think. Where had these creatures come from? They were clearly more present south of the island, and it probably wasn't because the Haltian mountains weren't contested area. Yes, it was deserted. But no, that place would be the worst to land ships at. There were few places where the ice between the island could carry an army, and the seas with their strong waves and ice chunks were too treacherous for ships to land. Not to mention the mountainous regions. It was strange that the invaders would come from that direction instead of landing near and in the bay.

A summoning portal, perhaps? These were outerworldly invaders, and they would thus be gated in. There were allegedly a ton of relics in the Haltian mountains, perhaps one of these unguarded treasures lended itself to be hijacked and used for an invasion platform. Interesting.

They would have to find that out. And who better than Girshu to figure it out. He could move through these regions quickly, was completely unfased by the blizzards, knew the mountains and wasn't threatened by the guardians and magics of the old Haltian inhabitants because of his race.

On the other hand, that sounded like a suicide mission. Him going into the heart of an alien invasion base alone? And for what? He wasn't tasked to do it by some higher being, nor would he get ample payment for it. No, it was probably smarter to rally with the barbarians again. The Frey bear clan, the grey wolves clan, the Rafandi tribes, the frost giants and any other inhabitant of the central wastes were gathering to face these invaders. Surely it was a lot safer to face an army of these things alongside an army of your own rather than by your lonesome?

But, he had plenty of time to muse upon the topic. Girshu would be waiting here for the insectoids to move on for a while still.

[What will happen next? Rally back at the camp or an expedition to the Haltian Mountains? You decide.]