"Captain!" Diomedes and Galatea stumbled in, the former combat unit now being supported by the latter. "Reports from our scouts witnessed a sudden mobilization of invading forces from multiple points around Apoy. Their movements suggest they are converging in as an unified front towards the eastern coastline. My squadron and I were spotted but we managed to escape with no one missing." Shiloh stood up and took out her wayfinder's widget, enlarging the topographical projection onto an empty wall. It was a detailed map of the island they were currently on, with landmarks and markers for allied and enemy forces. A few seconds of silence passed before she answered: "Have everyone on standby. All forces are to withdraw within the encampment. Make sure to get any repairs you need done immediately." With a nod, the pair left. Once she was alone, the rogue looked up at the ceiling. "…It's time." 

Only less than two days after the 'storm warning', the insects decided to mount an all-out attack. Witnesses from the myrmidons said an ethereal male presence had appeared on the battlefield shortly after the outline of roots spreading from a massive tree were made manifest. Though visible, these roots were intangible–like they were on an entirely different plane of existence. She had been informed of the decreasing lethality of the insects' god-slaying effects by the others. Her so-called partner in arms, Lokir, was still holding his position on the coast. The situation was looking better by the day. However, that wasn't enough to convince the Steward of Antikythera to relax. You could call it paranoia, but Shiloh was sure that the insects still had something up their sleeve. She was one of the few deities who didn't have an active physical presence in the battle, and as far as anybody knew she had never been seen outside her fort's walls. 

In a scenario where the insects were to pull a last-ditch effort to forcibly take over the island,  she expected them to start gunning for her first, then go after Lokir. They could overwhelm those on the field with sheer numbers if they wanted to, but if she was out of the picture they would cut off the closest source of backup the other deity had. With her gone that would leave Zanar and Lady Angela's husband in Mamlak as the next closest, but they probably already had their hands full. Keeping a low profile had inadvertently made her a bigger target. Now they were making their move. 

The fake storm warning broadcast was just a test to see how they would react, but even Shiloh wasn't sure what triggered them to take action. Had this been their plan all along, or were they becoming desperate? All Antikytheran forces were on edge, but she was only moderately worried. Based on their position's location, their only non-magical escape route would be the sea. If she were the invaders, she would send forces in from the west to push the allies up against the coast while an armada of airborne units fly around to trap them in the middle. If they really did think a storm was coming, then they were taking the initiative to win before the weather conditions changed course. 

Lines of warrior insects poured out of the jungle accompanied by riders on giant bees and beetles. Their numbers seemed endless, and the swarm was heading directly towards the fortified camp. Humanoid ants, mantis-men, moths, wasps, and others were marching towards the coastline to decimate anything in their way. If they were holding back before, they weren't anymore.

People were running to their stations and everyone was tense. Word had spread quickly of the literal swarm now encroaching from the jungle. What was happening? Moving through the crowds the herbalist was searching high and low for her employer. This was an emergency, but nobody had been given orders on what to do next. "Shiloh? Shiloh where are you?! Excuse me have you seen her anywhere?" Her children and husband were running about to cover more ground, and even Shiloh's husband had no idea. Turning around she bumped into someone and reflexively apologized only to see who it was. "Shiloh!" Grabbing her before she was lost in the sea of people again, the Rosenite pulled the deity aside to get some straight answers. "Where have you been? Everybody's been looking all over for you! What's going on?"

The brunette woman's eyes were clearly distracted but she attempted to answer Nerine's questions. "We might be in a very, very bad situation right now. The bad news is they chose to strike first; the good news is–we have at least a eighty-five percent chance of successfully fending them off without any significant losses." She was still being vague, so Nerine continued to press for answers. "Who is 'they'? And what do you mean by 'significant losses'?" "Insects, invaders. They've decided to mount a full-scale assault the likes of which we haven't seen since we've set up base here. No fighters are to be on the field until it's absolutely necessary, as a last resort. Oh, ask your kids to get themselves ready. We'll start returning the favor in five minutes." Shiloh said rapidly without a single pause for a breath. "D-DAY IS HERE BOYS! LOCK AND LOAD!" The deity then turned back to her and asked in hushed tones. "Are the creatures we brought in through the Clephsydra in position?" Nerine nodded, still not following the other's line of thinking. "Yes they are, why?" Shiloh then jumped up on a box and shouted at the top of her lungs: "RELEASE THE HYDRAS!" 

At that moment it all came together. Weeks ago Shiloh had asked her and her daughter to assist in bringing their family's rose hydras over from Arri. They were then transported in covered cages into the stables, which was strange since Shiloh had objected to Chrysanthe bringing her kalangitan Strelitzia. Creatures too small to be mounts were allowed, but those that were larger were told to be left behind. That was, until recently. At the Steward of Antikythera's behest, the concealed cages located around the fort were opened releasing several Arriese rose hydras into the field. Their color and floral features allowed them to blend in with the jungle overgrowth while in captivity, and they had been on a restricted diet up to this point. Despite their plant-like appearance, they were still carnivorous hydras. Once they were free, their multiple heads began attacking the unsuspecting insects within their reach.

The flow of the swarm changed in response to the sudden presence of predators. While a vast majority had bypassed the hydras, those near the end were devoured. The hydras were in a feeding frenzy, taking everything they could get. However that left the bulk of the invading forces still free to advance. Flying insects were able to continue once they were in the air and the larger, heavily armored insects had chitin too thick for the hydras to break. 

"Damn, that's a lotta bugs!" Old man Dubris said, his jaw dropping at the sight of the horde. A sea of bodies surged forth from the jungle; they painted the distant treeline black, and blue, and every shade of colour one could possibly think to name. They came in all shapes and sizes, a warbling mass of monstrosities. Brenna's jaw dropped to. There's so many! "Don't s'pose you want to count 'em?" The old man asked, reading her mind. Her lips creased in a grimace, pale eyes seeing and not seeing, bug after bug after insectoid crawling from the shadows into sunlight. Thick carapaces, beady black eyes, clicking mandibles; the moving grotesquerie got closer with each second lost. Dalanesca, be merciful!

Drawing her bastard sword, the mercenary/would-be knight watched as the army of foulness encroached on Apoy. There was naught all else she could do, for the moment, at least. Instead, she moved with the rest of them, climbing earthen walls to man the palisades. Archers and spearmen and mages joined her; they shared looks, equal parts fear and determination. The fighting platform heaved with men and women of varying heights and complexions. Big men from the distant Highlands raised claymores in silent challenge, anticipating bloodshed. Wiry archers from Mamlak and dark spearmen native of Apoy Island strung bows and raised shields, ready to rain death on the enemy and 'stick 'em with the pointy end'  in equal measure. Brenna clenched and unclenched her fingers, a buckler held loosely in her left hand, the bastard sword more tightly in her right. 

Is it okay to be afraid? She asked herself, gaze wandering to the skies. The sun shone high and bright, revealing flying horrors that made her gut do somersaults. Is it wrong to fear death? To want to run? To flee? Her face fell, and so to did her spirit as the approaching horde drifted back into view. Her knees felt weak, her throat dry, and for a single moment she considered turning tail and running. Only that won't do me any good. 

"Won't do you any good." Old man Dubris said, sidling up to her from behind. "You'll make easy pickings for the beastie boys alone, and without armor…Where's your armor, girl?" He asked, the bristly caterpillars that passed for his eyebrows raised in confusion. Brenna shot a sidelong glance at him, a man-at-arms in red and silver shoulder past her to bellow orders. 'I don't have any. Can't afford it,' she might've said, realizing she made an ideal target for the bugs with no armor to speak of. "Back in camp with the rest of my stuff." She answered. "Don't reckon I could go get it? Will I have time?" "No. I don't think you do have time. Shame…" The old man said, tenting his hands on a battle axe. "Just stick with us, girl. Maybe you'll make it through this. Maybe you won't." The old man laughed at that, setting her skin crawling. 

For a joke, she didn't find it the least bit amusing. 

The hydras were let loose without a hitch. That was good, but they were barely making a dent in the sheer numbers still coming on the horizon. It was somewhat hypocritical to tell everybody else to stay calm when she was on the verge of losing it herself. "This is fine. This is all according to plan." She muttered to herself as a small consolation. Regardless what her mouth was saying her head definitely wasn't believing it. "Get the mages ready for defensive barriers, spells too." She barked to one of her employees. Taking out her wayfinder's widget she updated the battlefield's current situation. Tapping certain points behind the jungle's treeline, she deployed several Centipede Diggers to flank the insects from the rear. Hopefully the bulk of their forces were now on the beach so this would cut them off on the ground. The flying ones were still a major problem, but she had a plan for that too. Right now she had to be dead-on with the timing.

On the battlefield the ground began to quake as something rumbled from the trees. Massive centipede-like excavating machines burst forth out of the ground, ensnaring and grinding what the hydras couldn't. Like the mining worms of Mo'mey, they leaped out from the earth like fish to burrow back below, repeating the process in clearing out any unfortunate insects in their path. The insects would no longer have a chance to retreat without taking to the air. She still had other war machines waiting for action, but she hesitated. Those had to wait, at least until the lightning towers were set up. "Raise the towers!" Sirens screeched across the eastern coastline as strategic spots revealed metallic towers smaller than those on Via Fulminis. Rising up from the sand, they were plated in lacriamium with a steel-alloy core. The lacriamium coating was a last-minute addition thanks to a tip her older son had mentioned. In addition to resistance against damage and corrosion, it had one very important property: it was highly conductive.

Focusing her power to the skies, she began funneling as much as possible to fuel the building storm coming over the fort. She was going to forcibly ground all the flying invaders in one fell swoop. "FULGUR!" A clap of thunder–then a bolts of lightning rained down from the sky! Hitting the lightning towers there was a hum in the air before a massive release of electricity rippled through the skies. Anything within their airspace was hit by the paralyzing wave, sending wasps and flying beetles plummeting into the ranks. Any invaders within a ten meter radius of the towers themselves were electrocuted to death, their corpses a burning reminder for their comrades. The next move was to destroy the swarm's morale, in a way that even mindless drones could understand.

From the palisade walls, it should've been clear as day what was happening out on the open field. Yet, as Brenna helped heave a boulder off the parapet to crush one of the quicker insectoids, it was as if a cloud had suddenly fallen across Apoy. It began with the Hydras, released from their binds to harry the horde's flanks. They did their work, sure, but from up high, it seemed to Brenna as if someone had thrown a handful of sand at the oncoming tide. That was to say, it didn't do much. She let out a disappointed huff, sweeping a lock of brown hair from her eyes to see better. Much good that did, she thought to herself as the hydras' picked off and devoured insectoids of their choosing. 

The horde, harried but no worse for wear, carried on. Sergeants and centenaries ordered crossbowmen and archers alike to loose. There was a great clamor as bolts and arrows darkened the sky; Brenna watched as the volley hit, the front-rank buckling from the missile fire. Some of the bigger creatures' legs gave out under them, many more smaller insectoids dying outright as their carapaces and armored shells gave way under the downpour. After that, the bowmen were permitted to fire at will. There was no longer any need to aim, the beasts were so numerous you couldn't loose without hitting something. 

It was then that the ground seemed to shake beneath their feet. A cloud of mud, blood, and broken bodies signaled the arrival of what Brenna identified as Centipedes. They tore through the clump of seething creatures far better than the Hydras; a wave of nausea washed over her as the whiff of guts and bodily excrement reached her nose on the wind. She didn't envy the horde; a rumble was all that preceded the 'burrowers' as they exploded from the dirt to engulf entire groups. Blood fell in mist-like drops, covering the nearby creatures. They crawled and ran and slithered onwards, unaffected by the demise of their kin. 

A clawed hand snapped Brenna from her revelry. She was already swinging by the time a bug's head appeared. Overlarge eyes, twitching antennae, a hungry mouth dripping saliva; the bastard sword struck true, carving a valley right between those ugly black orbs. Her first kill -not her first- tumbled out of view. The flash came a moment later; it was blinding, and Brenna had to blink several times to aid her swimming vision. The air reeked of burning flesh, and an urgent queasiness made her gag. Shiloh's doing? Must be, the mercenary thought, as the trap did its duty. Motionless, smoking husks plummeted to the ground, crunching as they hit solid earth and insects. God's….Gods save her. She prayed as the remainder of the horde struggled forward, and forward. 

Gods save us all!       

Had she sent the lightning down too soon? There were thousands of doubts flooding her mind as she was forced to make decisions on the fly. It would take time for her to send another lightning strike again. The longer this dragged out the less things would turn in their favor, and she wasn't going to allow that. Suddenly tremors much stronger than the shaking from the Centipedes or old Apoy rocked the entire base. Everybody was taking cover and it felt like a physical wave was throwing them down. It was hitting allies and invaders, and the tremors were intensifying. Even those in the air were dropping out of the sky. "Oh lord–" Shiloh gasped as she saw what looked like pieces of the sky fall. Now she was positively sure that the world was ending.

Something big was happening, something that even she wasn't able to control. There was a new sensation in the air that translated into nausea causing the deity to begin retching. It was like someone had broken a dam of magical energy, and now it was flooding all over the place. And it didn't stop there. With her senses going haywire, she could still hear mages and clerics in a panic when spells were malfunctioning. No, not this again! The last time magic had gone crazy it had been a small-scale disaster. On top of the swarming hordes hell-bent on breaking down their gates, this was the last thing she wanted to happen. Forcing herself to stand she let out a shrill whistle signaling her myrmidons to release the next waves of war machines. When the tremors stabilized, Antikythera released a swarm of their own in the form of mechanical drones designed as Bakulaw flying spiders. Flying over the writhing lines of insects, they released a shower of alchemical concoctions that caused hundreds of the invaders to scream in an unholy agony. A strong corrosive designed to weaken chitin came down like acid rain, and once the spider drones were done several packs of whip-scorpion constructs charged down the fort's walls.

With their chitin weakened, the whip-scorpion machines made short work of the heavily armored beetles piercing, maiming, and crushing them to bits. Those too big to crush were stabbed through the vitals, then disassembled. And if the constructs were surrounded, they opened their mandibles to ignite a spray of liquid incendiary. Despite the damage they took, the machines kept going, carrying out their purpose to the very end. The same ruthless brutality the insects had inflicted on innocents in the beginning of the war were now returned seven-fold. Only this time, they were facing enemies that felt no pain, never tired, and couldn't bleed. The liquid incendiary left an oily residue if not completely burnt, and soon it spread onto many other mantis-men, ants, and wasps who sloughed through it. That would be their undoing, as a single spark would cause a violent blaze that burned faster and hotter than dry tinder. The flames were culling their numbers more than the previous traps had, severely weakening the enemy's forces. 

The Bakulaw spider drones returned to release a fresh round of corrosive, rubbing salt into the gaping wound in their ranks. Even if the insects were able to escape the whip-scorpions, by the time the liquid had dried their chitinous exoskeletons were as good as paper. Blows from swords and arrows easily broke through. The sudden capriciousness that had overcome successful casting of spells were soon discovered to be affecting the insects as well as allied mages. Something had indiscriminately leveled the playing field, but at the cost of handicapping both sides. All fighters were advised to take extra caution as clerics could not guarantee healing outside of natural means. 

At this point, it was safe to say that nothing else could surprise Brenna. Of that, she was certain. In the space of minutes, the land surrounding camp and castle had been turned into a killing floor. Lifeless corpses were scattered from treeline to beach -the Hydras could have a three course meal if they wished- and the mere sight of so many dead bugs set Brenna's heart racing. It was a good sight, she decided, battering a mantis-man from the wall as he…it scrambled for purchase. The deities's plan had done a good job of making mincemeat out of the horde; a bloody, smoking, ravaged field marked their path. The horde or what was left of it seemed not to care, however. They carried on, oblivious to the sheer destruction left in their wake. A singular hive mind dictated their actions; it told them to kill and destroy. So they did. 

Before now, they insectoids had hit the first line of defenders in small, manageable groups. Now, with the traps expended -she assumed they'd all been triggered- the surviving bugs reached the wall in packs, climbing the obstacle in leaps and bounds. The thrum and twang of bows deafened her, the screams and battle cries fading to the back as the defenders' took spears and pikes to the attackers. Some made it to the top, a whole group of ant-men piling over one parapet to tear apart a bowman. Another toppled, his abdomen punched through by what Brenna could only imagine to be a giant bee stinger. All along the wall, men and women took part in their own personal battles, hacking and slashing at creatures too dumb to lay down and die. 

Nearby, a mage screamed as his spell backfired, robes going up in flame as a flickering orb of firelight turned his staff to ash. The soldiers around him did their best to extinguish the flame, until another mage -a better one- put it out with a jet of water. Brenna looked back to the wall, cursing herself for getting distracted so easily. "Damn sky…stupid invading bugs…how dare they attack Apoy." Brenna grumbled to herself, the fear replaced by adrenaline and bloodlust and the fact she was still alive and her foes were dying. She thrust at a giant, evil. human-sized ladybug, one shaggy leg batting away her sword as another made to skewer her. Brenna stopped it with the buckler; a quick left jab hit the bug squarely between the eyes. It fell away, dazed, its wings punctured by arrows. Damn things. Why won't you just die?

She was holding back from issuing a full counterattack with her own forces, instructing the mages to continue using their weakest spells until magic was normalized. Her machines were doing well, but they had to start pushing back. Once the mages were able to cast like usual, then the clerics would be ready to heal and revive if things came to that. So far there weren't any additional insects coming from the jungle, so she began moving the whip-scorpions back towards the base. The hydras and Centipedes would stay on the field to clean up any stragglers or last-minute deserters. "Everything is working again!" Nerine shouted her way, signaling that the long wait was over. Shiloh let out a sigh of relief as she sent a telepathic message to all of her automatons and employees: 'All units have permission to initiate combat. Destroy the enemy at all costs–take no prisoners.'

Construct myrmidons charged into the fray, carving paths through the invaders without hesitation. Matching the insects blow for blow, they soon gained the upper hand. No matter how many times they were stabbed or hit, the automatons kept going. Even when a heavily armored beetle warrior beheaded a combat unit, the body still continued fighting. A man clad in dragonscale wielding a claymore cleaved a group of mantis-men into pieces, followed by blasts of ice and fire from a Rosenite woman. Thorny vines sprouted from the sandy soil to entangle ants in place where archers had easy pickings. With the reassurance that spells were no longer unpredictable, Shiloh called down lightning from the sky once again.

This time not all bolts hit the lightning towers, some striking the most dangerous members out of the insects. The insect sorcerers were the first targets, finding themselves paralyzed as they waited for their imminent death. All ranged and melee attacks from allied forces gained a sudden increase in accuracy as lucky openings appeared for the defenders. The weather started to change as strong winds above the fort forced flying insects to the ground. So far everything was running according to plan, and the Steward of Antikythera felt it was time to deal a decisive blow. Gathering all the mages, she ordered portals to Kujishoku to be opened. As soon as the portals appeared, hordes of phantasms and fantastical monsters flooded out from the Spirit Realm to decimate the insect forces. In the little time she had between defending the eastern coast, Shiloh had made a few courtesy calls to potential allies in Parvpora. Not many were willing to assist, but when she explained what would happen if Canelux fell their ears were more inclined to listen. For the denizens of Kujishoku her request was simple: should she call upon them, they would use whatever means they had to turn the tide. 

Kujishoku's response to the deity's summons to war dispatched powerful familiars and spirit beasts to fight on the Conclave's behalf. The great monsters that terrorized Parvpora not too long ago were now sent as bound familiars in place of soldiers. Burning wheels with ghostly cats ran down enemy lines leaving trails of hellfire in their wake, monstrous serpents greedily swallowed enemies whole, and dogs made from shadow hunted down those unfortunate to stumble. These and many more were unleashed upon Apoy, taking the enemy by surprise. For once, it looked like they might win after all. It was high time things started going their way again.

"Right, lads! Up and at 'em!" A knight in plate and mail bellowed, his voice drowned out by the sound of horns and howls a split second later. A great chorus followed, the defenders who weren't engaged making a beeline for the stairs. Brenna joined them along with Old man Dubris, his mane of grey hair dyed red from battle. She laughed, the thrill of warfare -of victory- driving her down those steps with the Halberdiers and the spearmen; the mercenaries and the bravos, the heroes and villains here to get drunk on blood and coin and glory. Their boots were the crack of thunder, their rallying calls the sign of imminent success. They had done it, and now they would make the bugs pay for every murdered family and ransacked village. 

She shouted herself hoarse, remembering vividly the lessons her clan had taught her. How to stand, parry, riposte. How to feint, and swing a sword with finesse. How to make a name for herself, and hew many foemen. She screamed as battle was joined once more; the defenders sallied forth from the gates, and in some cases, from the very walls they had made their stand on. It was a mosh pit. One great, roiling mass of men and monsters and mythical beasts. Familiars dove from portals opened by mages to attack the insectoids. Ugly, nightmarish beasts and bugs went into mad frenzies, attacking friend and foe alike. Men shouted and cried piteously, and the insects mimicked them. 

Brenna did her best not to get ahead of herself, though, the energy that surged through her bones and the throng of warriors surrounding her was contagious. Stay close to your shield brethren. Keep them safe, they'll return the favor. A voice from her past told her. She listened, somehow winding up in the front line. She took her steel to the bugs. She missed, she hit; she maimed and inflicted injuries, and on the odd occasion killed outright. She defended herself with the buckler like she'd been tutored to; she dodged where she could, ignoring the fact that she felt bone-weary. 

Today's shaping up to be a good one, she thought idly, I just hope there's no price to pay. 

Shiloh received word that her compatriot-in-arms, the deity Lokir–was now facing an assault on his side of the shore. As much as she wanted to focus all her efforts here, she reluctantly ordered preparations for transport of a dozen siege machines. Portals were opened to the bear god's fort, and the massive metal machines were wheeled through. If they needed reinforcements that would have to wait until she had her area under control. In a fit of madness or some slip in sanity, her thoughts somehow recalled a vast amount of high-quality furniture one of the other deities had decided to dump into her temple one day. No matter how she tried, she couldn't fully get rid of them. She could only find so many people to pawn or shove them off to, and they were filling up a back room for no reason collecting dust. Tired of the waves of enemies and desperately wanting this to end, she opened a portal across the heavens and deployed the load.

In the skies above the battlefield, several mahogany hardwood couches fell from on high. Weighing several hundred pounds, they slammed into the ground like bricks crushing anything unfortunate enough to be in their way. For some ungodly reason the furniture was still intact, probably because the dead insects cushioned their fall. They were probably divinely cursed  blessed or something. Seconds later they vanished into thin air, leaving piles of bodies in their wake. If there was one unique way to deal a aerial assault, that would be it. "I have about ninety-nine problems, and those couches are one of them. Curses…" Disappointed that the couches weren't destr–er, damaged, Shiloh decided it was time to clear out the mess. The winds picked up, forming a tornado. With a wave of her hand, it began sucking up the bugs dead and alive into its vortex. The more things it accumulated, the harder it was to control. Soon even the biggest beetles were being pulled up and away.

Feeling her control over the tornado slipping, she quickly directed it to the sea where it lost momentum and poured its contents into the swift currents. Using magic in such quick succession was draining, and she knew there were still more insects crawling about. Leaving the battlefield for a brief respite, she ordered an all-out attack while she vanished from view. In what felt like hours, she recuperated in still silence. Her ring of sanctuary had taken her to a pocket of space away from it all. Here she began reviewing her plan, plotting the next maneuvers. There had to be a way to send all the insects out as soon as possible. The more time spent during the fight, the more their forces would be worn down. This couldn't drag on forever. The tornado she had used back then proved to be quite effective. As straining as it was, that would be her best course of action. A few mana potions should do the job, at least until it was over. 

With a deep breath, she prepared to return to the fighting. "Time to close up shop. I'm done with this war." Reappearing, she sent another flurry of whirlwinds to sweep down the beaches. They could fly, but she doubted the invaders could tread water for long.