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Notes: (Acridiel, 2023-02-17)

“

These events, like so many others in my records took place a long time ago and I can not vouche for all the information therein to be absolutely accurate, but back then I kept my records diligently. So I hope that you will find this usefull, or at least entertaining.

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As I walked towards the battle to come, I prayed inside the confines of my Kara-Parok helmet:
“Jena, keep all our seeds in Your hands and let Your breath strengthen our souls. Give us the strength to survive this danger to continue serving You.”
“These marauders are truly superbly equipped and trained”, it flashed through my mind as I spotted the first fortifications that had been erected on the slopes of the incline leading towards the Hidden Source Region. Within a few short days, the enemy troops had managed to build and fortify some formidable defenses. The ascent from the Knoll Of Dissent Region was blocked by two towers and quite a large number of soldiers in black armor stood guard upon the path up into the steppe.
I turned to look around at the faces of my comrades in arms. Our band consisted of about Thirty to Forty Homins, about half Matis half Tryker, with a few Fyros and even fewer Zorai, who had chosen to fight at our side. Most seemed confident and brave, but I was sure that some, like me, were struggling to keep their confidence at the sight of the enemy forces and hid their fear beneath their helmets. Few we were. Possibly too few. I hoped and prayed for strength in the face of our foes.
We had information that a parallel attack to ours, launched from the Burning Desert by the Zoraï and Fyros would occur, I had no idea whether these forces were any more numerous than the smallish Matis force that had assembled on this day. True, it was a collection of truly brave Homins and great warriors, but still we were achingly few in number. A few who were ready to face the enemy and do their best to defend their hard won freedom though.
This thought gave me the strength I had been looking for and I walked on with my head held high. We faced the Kitin and won. We had faced worse than this.
I abhorred fighting other Homins, but to protect my people and the Homins of the New Lands, I had to do it. I had sworn an oath to king Yrkanis and I would keep it.
Slowly, our small band of warriors walked across the plain in front of the steep cliffs that bordered the higher plain where the enemy stood. We saw their strength and might and I shivered.
They saw us too.
They jeered, laughed and taunted us.
They pointed their fingers at the small, pathetic group of warriors that the New Lands had raised. No, this could never be a serious threat to their army.

Standing tall on a jagged outcropping, Rocho di Anichio, the chief of the renegade First Deserters, smiled coldly. This ragtag band would not stand a chance against his trained warriors and those of his allies. His gaze went out over the plain beneath the foothills of the Hidden Source Region and the about 30 Homins that came walking up to his position.
Smirking, he watched their pathetic first attempt at an attack. Undisciplined as a panicked herd of Yubos they were. Wild and impetuous, the fighters charged forward, leaving their magi far behind and out of range of any attempts to heal. He almost had to laugh. How incredibly embarrassing for "His Highness, Yrkanis", the bastard, that such vermin were his only line of defense.
He watched as the warriors rushed fiercely up against the marauder troops. And yes, they even managed to cause a small breach in their infantry ranks. But to the well-trained battle mages up here on the cliffs, they were no more than a few flies to squash.
Bubbling Acid projectiles hissed and sprayed down on the battlefield. Clashing, bitter cold burst from the hands of other magi, encasing the attackers in ice as thick as a Shala's legs. Ah, he loved to watch the magi. How their well-practiced, disciplined movements channeled the sap and summoned the elements by means of it. Not a word passed their lips, only their movements killed.
Well, he liked it, but he loved close combat even more. Again, it was movements that decided over life and death, but it was an entirely different dance.
One warrior dared and managed to break through the ranks of his defenders. Dispelled Magic beaded harmlessly off an invisible bubble surrounding him, like water. Yes, he had heard of that. Some homins could temporarily negate any magic close to them by focusing their inherent sap.
Let's see how long this one would hold out. Especially since this aura gave no protection against swords and pistol shots.
As the fight grew nearer, he recognized the sleek lines of female armor.
A Matis, judging by the figure. Wearing finely crafted amber-colored armor. She sprinted up the incline and right toward his position with light footed grace. She deftly dodged the swords of several warriors and ducked under most bullets of the riflemen. Some ricocheted off or stuck in her armor. She probably aimed to distract the magi, or even kill them, so that her companions further down had an easier approach to the melee. Granted, she actually reached the edge of his position and a mage fell victim to her sword. But then it was over. She hardly stood a chance.
The magi turned their spells on her and with a shriek she went down under the sudden onslaught of deadly energy.
Calmly, he walked over and looked down at her.
She lay limp, twitching a bit. So far her helmet and armor were mostly intact, but the powerful Shockwave Spell that hit her must have broken every bone in her body as her protective aura weakened and finally vanished.
A thin thread of blood seeped from her helmet, she coughed in agony as he leaned over her, trying to make out something through the slits in her helmet. Amber eyes, full of rage and pain, sparkled within. Probably recognizing the officer's seal on his armor and the colors of his tribe.
“You... Bastard! - You're mine! she spit out in a well of blood.”
A sudden wave of amusement made him laugh in her upturned face.
“Hahaha! Right now your soon to be dead body belongs to my soldiers, little Matis. Didn't you see that your pathetic bunch doesn't stand a chance? he teased.”
“I'll get you! - Someday. - I swear ... by the dragon's breath. came the muffled, pain-filled reply from under the helmet.”
“Swear all you want. You've already lost.”
He viciously kicked a booted foot into her shivering side and turned to look back over the battlefield and face his troops.
Laughing, he exclaimed , "Look comrades. This is all the great kingdom has to offer against you! No wonder it was so easy to attack and rob the merchants right under its nose!"
His soldiers laughed and cheered. At their feet lay the shattered bodies of the few fools who had opposed them.
Ah, how he enjoyed such moments. It had been a good idea to join forces with Akilia and the others. Although he distrusted that goo-addled Zoraï.
A shimmer in the air made him look to the ground. The Matis had disappeared.
So she had gone into the arms of Jena and had herself revived at the shrine back there in the distance. Oh, let her.
One by one, the other fallen warriors disappear, too, from the blood-soaked ground.
He would be surprised if they were foolish enough to try again.

I awoke at the Karavan shrine, in front of the entrance to the Primordial Roots, in the Knoll Of Dissent.
My whole body ached and even the blessing of Jena was unable to make me forget the horror of the last few minutes. Groaning, I got up and took a few unsteady steps, took a deep breath and the musty, bitter smell of the primeval roots drifting up from the huge hole in the bark behind me stung my nose. Helping to clear my head.
As I started to move I had the impression that some of my bones and muscles were still knitting back together. My health certainly wasn’t at its peak. I relaxed as best as I could and let the rhythm of the run dispel the last of the pain and dizziness that gripped me each time I claimed the goddess's blessing of restoration. Far ahead I saw other Homins running back to the scene of the battle.
They all knew that if they failed, the kingdom would fall into disaster.
We gathered again at the foot of the steep, narrow path to the higher Region. Our earlier, wild and uncoordinated attacks had caused a breach in the marauders' defenses, but a lot of them were still hiding behind the garrison towers and in the impassable terrain behind those.
This time we proceeded in a more coordinated way. Slowly and purposefully, we beat the individual groups of defenders and though sometimes I fell victim to the spells of the opponents, a friend would be there who brought me back to my feet with his magic. The fight was hard, but finally we reached the end of the so-called "ramp" and were able to penetrate deeper into the region.
In the distance I spotted some fleeing figures and I’m sure that I recognized the red-trimmed armor of my earlier tormentor. The coward obviously preferred to retreat, rather than face us. Kicking me when I was down and at his mercy. Despicable. And allying with the Marauders, a heinous act of treason.
I followed the other Homins deeper into the steppe, ready for a sustained and complicated fight. Kitin were still crawling over the dry grass and Cuttler and Torbaks were hiding inside bushes and behind dunes. But our small band continued on its way undeterred.
Finally, however, we came upon a sight that took our breath away.
The marauders had really done a frighteningly good job. Around the outpost of Berello, more fortified towers had sprung up, simple stables had been built, and crude huts stood close together, offering shelter to an army.
This was what we were now facing.
Their warriors outnumbered us at least 3 to 1.
A murmur went through our ranks. How could we defeat this huge army?
But then it was too late for considerations.
A squad broke away from the main army and came charging toward us. We had no choice but to defend ourselves.
The battle was fierce and wave after wave of Marauder units threw themselves at us.
But we remained steadfast. We held our position and were even able to advance ever so slowly.
This had to be Divine Intervention. Jena guided our hands, gave us strength and courage and more than once I called the praise of Jena and my country: “Jena Ayie! Yrkanis Ayie! Matia Ayie!”
Then suddenly the enemy's ranks swelled. Their sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm us. We fought on, with courage born of despair. Right in the midst of the great camp, surrounded by enemy warriors. The armor of the newly arrived enemies bore the mark of the bandit Sirgio, whose camp was halfway to the Burning Desert. He and his cohorts had joined the other Marauders in this battle. But, this had actually been to be expected. Where there was profit to be made, opportunists were not far behind.
A sword thrust narrowly missed my belly, and my counterattack was parried by the quick Tryker warrior I faced. In the melee I noticed, something akin to heat lightning over the rolling hills of the steppe. Then a ball of glowing blue energy traced its path across the sky in a high, crackling arc. It burst amidst a group of marauder riflemen entrenched behind the high folds in the dry bark of Berello outpost. Lightning arced from one to the other and further. Twitching, the Men fell to the ground as behind them a few brave figures scaled the slope. Weapons locked and wildly absorbed in the dance of magic.
"It's the Fyros and the Zoraï!" I exclaimed. A short cheer went up among the Homins fighting for Matia.
With renewed courage, we threw ourselves back into battle. The marauders grew desperate, with fresh troops falling into their back. Among them appeared altered animals. Grown to huge sizes and much more aggressive than their relatives.
The evil goo-alchemist Muang Hoi-Gi was actually making common cause with the enemies of the Homin-Nations. His abominations caught many of us off guard and we were hard pressed to stand victorious.
The large, rabid Gingos bred by the strange Fyra named Mezix also intervened in the battle. However, there were not as many as one could have expected. The raid on Mezix' camp a few weeks ago had probably helped to reduce their number.
From time to time I heard the fierce battle cry of a Homin, who shouted out the name: Akilia. So she was here, too, somewhere. Then, over the din of battle I caught angry shouts and curses, aimed at the Zorai Alchemist. As I learned later, Muang had left the alliance when it appeared that the New Land forces were gaining the upper hand. Akilia herself was supposed to have said something about this all being a "test".
For what?
Once again, this was left to speculation.

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Finally, the Homins regained the region of the Hidden Source.
The threat of the enemy from the past was once again averted. The battle won, the war far from decided.
Ex-Senator Zelion, traitor to the Fyros-Empire, fell into the hands of the Fyros army. Apparently his allies had no more use for him.
However, I am still convinced that there is another traitor somewhere in the Empire.
Rocho Valerio and his deserters were a problem the Matis-Kingdom had to deal with. Muang was threatening all Homins, and the strange Nung Horongi had been turned over to the Trykers, because they had evidence that suggested he was involved in Governor Still Wyler's assassination.
The coming months and years of Yena would certainly not be easy for the Homins of the New Lands. But, like the brave 30 warriors who stood up to a superior force, all four peoples of the New Lands will fight to determine their own destiny!

  Lylanea Vicciona, Ranger, Barde of the Four Nations

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