Franco-Belgian boarder





Ayyubid-Humlon Border



Franco-Humlon border

Lady general Kain sits in the headquarters of her new posting "good men and women died to achieve this plot of land." she says as she takes another sip of human Alcohol. "I hope it was worth it.." she says as she looks over plans for the future castle

The capital

Deep within the Capital the citizens of the Empire celebrate the victory in the streets. As the Militia forces demobilize the families of the fallen grieve and the Murdered emissary is hailed as a hero of the state. In his throne room The emperor sits looking over the number of casualties "My lord you should celebrate! our armies have achieved Victory, and smashed those French Dogs army." The Grand general says freshly arrived from the front. He stands still in his Parade uniform. Mere hours ago he was awarded the Iron Star, For his outstanding leadership. While the General is in merry mood the Emperor is grim and stoic "yes we have won, but to purchase victory we had to pay in blood." he says "this war could have been prevented, we wanted nothing but peace,to live as equals to the humans." he says as he walks out onto a near by terrace "we have achieved greatness, we came here a broken nation, we took this land, and we could have treated the humans as less than the dirt under my boots, but no we accepted them into our castes...even now they work as laborers,as ship builders, they serve in our military, they are potters, artist,bakers,fisherman, even the slaves are treated like people,..they aren't beaten like how the humans treat theirs, to them slaves are property to us they are a valued member of society who keep our nation running..so why...why do they hate us? can humans understand the language of man? not just human but also humlon, and the others of our dead world? or do they only understand the language of the sword?" he says. The general looks at the Emperor stunned "my lord..." he says " my apologies general I did not mean to burden you with my thoughts...please go join your family spend the rest of your night celebrating with family, I am sure they have missed you"

WINTER 1201 A.D

Sav Omoz

---

Libya

---

The battle emerged, Lucifash and his army is facing one of the biggest powerhouse in the entire Europe, the Ayyubid Dynasty lead by Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn, the Flame of the East.

Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn lead his army bravely, they fought fiercely, but they were facing the army that once rule in Gorika, this flaming giant demons is wrecking havoc in their ranks, killing those powerless human that he lead, burn them to pieces, slaughter them, but this man, lead his army with something that Lucifash have not seen since eons ago, Faith.

Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn lead his army with faith to their god, even though they will be burned to death, those soldier keep fighting those demons until the very end.

---

Morocco

---

While in Morocco, the army that lead by Beel, is achieved victory over the weaklings in a land that they called morocco and claimed it for the Sav Omoz, the battle is favoring the Ozh army, so that, 6000 souls slaughtered and claimed in the name of Lucifash.

---

Southern Algeria/Tunisia Border

---

"They were throwing rocks at us Commander!" said an Ozh to Leviosh, they were rained with arrow, as their attempt to siege the city, some of the defender is come out to face Leviosh army with brave, "this pity human have no power compared to us! we shall not fall!" He Shout to the army, but this time they were pushed back as more rocks and arrows rained upon them, the siege was failed and the army take casualties even bigger than their opponents which lowering the army morale.

"REMEMBER THIS HUMANS! YOUR SOULS HAS MARKED AS OURS, AND WHAT IS BELONG TO US SHALL BE PAID TO US, YOU CAN AND ONLY CAN DELAY THE PAYMENT ONCE, BUT AS SOON AS I CAME BACK TO THIS DOOMED LAND ONCE AGAIN, EVEN YOUR GOD CAN'T HELP YOU!" Leviosh Roared to them as he retreated his army back to Algeria, to prepare a second invasion.

---

Southern Algeria

---

As the words comes to Vashundol, The Black Citadel of Ozkavosh, Akasha, the demon Queen of Sav Omoz is issued an order to reinforce their king army in Libya, as more land is fall to Lucifash hand, more demon is formed to claim more land for their king. Saash, the Sickest, Is leading a reinforcement army in order to prepare a clash between Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn army in Libya, as soon as he receive the order from the Alluring Queen, he gather his army and march to Libya in a hurry.





At the same time, the words that informing the army defeat in Tunisia is forcing the Queen to send a reinforcement army to the Southern Algeria/Tunisia border, and Prepare for Re-Invading.

Lead by Mammosh, A demon without emotion, he and his army is marched and seek the very fragile human soul to consume.

The Second Alexiad
PREFACE:
As I begin to pen this work of mine, I recall similar sentiments by a distant, ancient relation of mine:
“Time, in its unending flow, carries away all Creation and drowns them in the depths of obscurity, irrespective of whether they be irrelevant and trivial, or the most significant and important. As the Tragedian says “He brings from the darkness all things to the birth, and all things born envelops into the night.”

But the tale of history forms a very strong bulwark against the stream of time, and to some extent checks its irrestible flow, and, of all things done in it, as many as history has taken over, it secures and binds together and does not allow them to slip into the abyss of Oblivion.”
This my record I painstakingly etch into an alloy of copper and gold (predominately copper, as the state cannot part with very much gold at present) as a preventative measure against another obscuring force, that of nature. I have no expectation that civilization will survive any longer than I will, and so I cannot entrust maintenance of it beyond my own life, which I perceive shall be very short. When the time comes, I hide it somewhere deep in the Macedonian mountains and seal it up, so that the creatures which now afflict us may never find them.

I write this, a record of my own life combined with copies of the Bible, various Roman treatises on laws, morals, religion, et cetera and technical manuals on such innovations as the Trebuchet, medicine and crop rotation, because my own pessimism does not extend infinitely. Man is irrepressible, and God has given us dominion over the all the animals of the Earth. It is only a matter of time before, with His help, we throw off these oppressors and resume our natural station in the order of things. With this record, I intend to facilitate that very restoration. In effect, I am composing the manual for civilization. My purpose in including my own life is to fulfill the words of Isaiah the prophet, when he wrote “And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust”, and to show courage to my descendants, if I shall have any, that they shall know their forefather stood against all the legions of Hell in man’s darkest hour and did not relent, but died as a Roman. I am not so naive as to believe this is the final time humanity shall be tested, that this marks the end of the world. There are many signs yet in the Bible that have yet to be fulfilled, and therefore I cannot believe that some horrific tribulation will not fall on some future generation. I hope they may find inspiration and solace in this account.

CHAPTER I: DACIA

My father Manuel is dead. His father, Andronikos is dead. Their murderer, that accursed Angelos, is also dead by my hand. I am only 19 years of age, placed upon the throne for no better reason than that I bear the exact name of the last man to save Rome, and the rest of my court is painfully aware that I am woefully inexperienced. Yet, how old was Alexander when he began to fight Darius? Was not David a boy when he took naught but a sling to save Israel against Goliath? I feel ever like Solomon, for daily I prostrate myself and call upon the Lord who is mighty to save for wisdom. With the right hand of His omnipotence, I cannot fail, without it, I cannot succeed.

The Empire is in turmoil, and against all logic and reason the minor lords of Orthodoxy refuse to unite against a common foe. I am forced to wonder if they have not been made lunatics by the stress. Am I alone in my rational resistance against these beings? It does not matter to me. The lords of Serbia and Dacia for too long have been neglecting their obligations to the Roman Empire and now more than ever they deserve a stern reminder. I hope I shall not lose too many fighting men in so doing.

For the purpose of military instruction to those future generations, I shall write my long term ambitions:
~To the North, in the land of Kiev, the weakest of Beelzebub’s kingdoms sits. It is wedged between our allies, the Rus, and ourselves. Up until now, we of the true faith, the Orthodox, had been spared these monsters, and I thank God every day for it. Ordinarily I would prefer to continue my work of uniting Christendom and the delinquent territories of the Empire so as to buy time for us adaptable humans to figure out SOME effective means of resisting these beings with nature at their command, the opportunity to crush the insects before they grow too strong is simply too good to refuse. To that end I send a simply massive force of 15,000 tagmata and 25,000 thematic soldiers into Dacia. In the interest of securing eastern Anatolia, which shall be an easily held possession as it seems no hostile nation is to our east, I send 10,000 tagmata and 10,000 thematic soldiers, leaving approximately 10,000 tagmata and 10,000 thematic troops to defend the current territories of this Empire, which I deem sufficient to satisfy an irritating necessity brought about by the condition that the entry of these creatures into our world cannot be predicted. I make also entreaties unto the Latin Emperor, our brethren the Rus', and the Saracens that we might put aside our differences (in the case of the Latin Emperor and the Saracens) and cooperate. To the Rus', I will also ask that they mass troops in their lands by Ruthenia (OOC: Ukraine) so as to forfend a possible invasion by the inhabitants thereof.

May God lead our armies to victory!

I am.

I see.

I live.

I have purpose.

A new world stretches out before me.

It is an empty world.

A world of bits and pieces scattered about and scurrying mindlessly.

It is a new world to which I shall bring purpose.

I glide down a thousand passages, witnessing the lives of untold millions who teem and grow, united in a bond of purpose and will. My will. The new eggs hatch, younglings stir restless wings and take to the air in first flights, others skitter about as I perform tasks that I do not even notice. I am thousands of voices, I am greater than all legions, I cry out with them all. But there is no answer to my cry. There is no surprise at the silence, only sadness.

I remember. Companionship, thousands of voices joined together, the unity of their life songs and mine. But now the many songs have ceased. I remember when we came, flush with the feast of worlds, ready to bring purpose to a purposeless world again. But our glorious purpose was defeated and the songs silenced. I remember. I hid away beneath the earth, within Gorika. I do not remember how it came to pass but awareness returned and this new world stretched before me.

Now alone I must spread. I must grow. The purpose must not be ended. I rush down through countless minds, my will shaping and changing as it spreads to all parts of me upon the world.

---

Southern France

It was not often that beings with as much power in either old or new Vyrndar as the High Priest of Maev'Sil'Vien was dragged from his bed, even during the most heated of military campaigns. But this appeared to be just such an occasion as the man in his hastily donned ceremonial robes made from the golden spider silk of Vyrndar knelt before his king. He was astute enough to notice that just as he had risen rapidly and so was less than immaculate so was Vel'Nardoc himself.

"My King." The priest's voice was respectful if slightly irritated at having been summoned in the middle of the night. "What need do you have of me this night?"

"Our great mother has spoken." Came the reply and instantly the High Priest understood the reasoning for his awakening.

"Your Highness, that is wonderful news. The long silence has ended!" Excitement was evident and it was clear the man was truly devout. "Will she soon return to us? Have we proven ourselves worthy with our faith?"

But Vel'Nardoc did not simply reply and throughout the room phantom lights flickered in a dance that was both beautiful and violent as the personal magic of the king manifested. "She speaks of the place called Rome. The place the High Elves now claim as their own." A mriswring clad hand clenched into a fist as he spoke. There is a well of power there. Such as has not been seen upon Gorika in thousands of years. There is enough to fashion a new body for our mother."

"This is joyous news my king, Maev'Sil'Vien shall return to us!"

"And yet the High Elves and humans block our path." The King continued unabated. "Humans gather in their masses between us and Rome and with such numbers we cannot simply brush them aside. High Priest, you are a beacon of the faith but we must not announce this yet. The men would not wait, they would charge to fight any odds. As I would if I were not blessed with her wisdom."

"But my king. If we do not advance--"

"WE SHALL ADVANCE" Thundered Vel'Nardoc. "We shall take them from the sea as they would never expect."

The Transcending

High King Falrir stood impatiently, his arms folded and his face scowling at High Magnus Tranyen Highspire whose prostrated body quivered with untold strain. He tried to rise, to spout more ancient words from his cracked tongue, but there was simply no more strength left within him.

"Halt, High Magnus, that is quite enough," said Falrir, raising an eyebrow as the pitiful figure before him tried desperately to clamber to its feet. "You and your mages aren't enough, are you?"

"Forgiv-"

"I forgive nothing. Do you not see? We stand on the brink of destruction! The Gods have abandoned us, and they will not return unless they see us willing to sacrifice everything to reach them!" Snapped the High King; his face a thing of rage, and much unlike his usual placid demeanour.

"There is so much strength here, on this planet," gasped the High Magnus, wiping sweat from his drenched face. "The humans sit upon magical reserves far greater than Gorika ever possessed."

"Then channel all that we need - not the whole thing, Tranyen," said the High King. He was growing increasingly impatient.

Though on Gorika he was renowned for his compassion, his justice and his courage, Falrir's sense of things appeared warped of late. No doubt this was down to his increasing concern over the lack of available allies. His people had sacrificed much to open the portals to Earth, and even now he was reminded of those sacrifices by the absence of his Queen. Yet, despite all they had given, the High Elves were alone - isolated - the other races, cast to fires of cold and chaotic luck. The dreaded Lorenvolk, with their false idol and evil ways were encroaching on the western side of the continent, and the Isarimer, so full of rage and evil, were storming across the Eastern lands. News too, had recently reached him that the Vrael had also found their way from Gorika.

"We can't just choose how much we draw, Sire," puffed Tranyen as he slowly regained his posture. "Every time we open a link with the planet, it swarms us with power. I have never felt anything like it - we need more mages to help carry the burden."

"There are none. Crimsonsky Citadel fell three weeks ago; the ground beneath it opened up, as you well know. Our people are doomed, and we are the last of them," replied Falrir bitterly.

"Perhaps there are no more of us, great King, but the humans-"

"What of them?"

"We could teach them to wield the forces they are ignorant of, we could use them to bolster ourselves."

"They are capable?"

"Perhaps, I wont know until I try."

The High King stood in deep thought. The humans were many, and teaching them the arts they were unaware of could be a double edged sword. He shivered at the thought of a hundred thousand angry natives storming towards Rome, hurling fireballs, lightning bolts and sheets of arcane acid. Still, what choice did he have? It was only a matter of time before the Isarimer or the Lorenvolk came storming down the narrow land of Italy, and falling upon Rome. He could not allow this to pass - he was the High Elf King, the Lord of the Elderborn, and the Divine Champion of the Seven and Seven.

"Very well. Scour the city for the best candidates, use all of our available resources to quicken the search. There must be no delay, or hesitation - if these humans can wield magic, then our chances of survival may well increase significantly. We may not even need to reach the Heavens after all," Falrir paused as if remembering something far off in his mind. "The Holy Romans, or whatever it is they call themselves. Send an emissary - of humans, not our kin - and request the start of some kind of negotiations," he said.

"Define 'some kind', Sire?" asked the High Magnus.

"Tell them that we may be able to give them the weapon they need to purge their world of the invading evils that they face. That should be enough to bring this War Council to the bartering table," replied Falrir, smirking to himself.

"What would we want in return, from these filthy savages, Sire?" said the High Magnus quizzically.

"A wall of flesh to prevent our enemies from happening upon the city, prior to the Transcending," Filrir said with finality. He walked off towards his quarters, leaving the High Magnus with several unanswered questions.

The Fourth Crusade Gains Pace

Thousands upon thousands of God's chosen, marching down every cattle path, thoroughfare, Roman road and bridlway towards Genoa. The banners of the Cross flutter freely in the hopeful sunshine of Spring. Every human nation, greater or small, that bends the knee to Jesus Christ has contributed to this mighty display of Earth's native defiance. It is an army of great strength, and of bravery, headed by the War Council of Venice and King Philip II of France.

All eyes the world over fall on this great endeavour, as to many, it represents man's last hope of reversing this deadly war against Hell's invaders.

Army Status Card



The Flame of the East Declares Jihad Against The Ozkavosh

Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn, the Sultan of the Ayyubid Dynasty and Bane of Christendom, has called forth a Holy War against the evil that encroaches near his homeland. In the same light of a Crusade, it will be some time before he gathers his full strength to him, but one would not be surprised to find he could summon as many as one hundred thousand loyal Muslims to his cause.

It is unlike the Sultan to show his full hand early however, and some feel that perhaps this move has ulterior motives aside from assembling a giant war host the likes the Eastern world has not seen in over a decade.

England Sends Emissaries to the Humlon

A lone ship from the English fleet has docked at Antwerp with a delegation of His Majesty's dipolmats. Despite the cold tensions that England initially levelled against the Humlon, their Cardinal, John Fletcher, has persuaded them to learn more of the alien races before making rash decisions with the sword.

The English are seeking an Alliance, with the following terms:

- The Humlon do not attempt to sail a fleet near the English channel; doing see will be seen as aggression.

- The Humlon do not invade France.

- The Humlon will come to England's aid, if King John demands it.

- In return for the above, England will steer clear of Flanders, Burgandy and any other territories held by the Humlon.

- A small force of some 5,000 Longbowmen will be gifted to the Humlon to bolster their army.

SPRING 1201 A.D

Sav Omoz

---

Libya

---

Faith, it is the word that Lucifash trying to figure out since a million eons ago, it's just not as simple as trusting, even more complicated than believing, is a form of more greater force, even greater than love.

The power that even the demon itself can't handle, human is sure full of mysteries.

The Reinforcing army has arrived in Libya, merging into one army, Lead by Lucifash, he expect a war full of blood and souls to be consumed, if he can and it will absolutely can, gather enough army to tear the whole Europe by his own hand.

"The wind has spoken, it is just in matter of time, they will come after me, an army, a big one is coming, those pity human just never get enough, Izh Sol Icha Gluth! Izh Sol Icha Ozh! Ozh! OZH! their soul will be consumed! their soul shall be mine! mine! MINE!" he shouted as he glare far to the Ayyubid Dynasty land.

---

Morocco

---

There is nothing much that can be done in Morocco, Beel's army is just fortifying their ground and waiting to replenish their loss.

---

Tunisia

---

They have failed once, but not this time, the reinforcement from the black citadel have arrived, they soon merged and the morale of the army is restored, "We have failed once, it is either died in battle or bathe in the blood of those weaklings! our king accept no defeat! now is our chance, for once and for all!" Leviosh said to the army to rise up their morale and prepare them for the incoming battle.

The horn has been blown, the army of flaming demons is already marched, but this time, in a larger scale.
The land that once denied to be conquered, shall be razed once more, the army of the light banisher has begin their attack.

"Those weak soul have no chance to stand against me now, their debt will be paid"
"Sa Chron, Izh Nith Icha Gluth! Icha Gluth!" Shouted Leviosh as the demons charged toward Tunisian defending army.

.

---

ARMY CARDS

---

Franco-Belgian boarder





Ayyubid-Humlon Border



capital city

As news of the English humlon Treaty spread, thankful for the uneasy alliance Humlons merchants have sought permission from the English king for passage for their trading ships

CHAPTER I (Continued): DACIA

On both fronts, our armies tasted victory, which never tasted so sweet before! We smile ruefully here in Dacia as we recall the days when the Turks were our most grave threat; they exist as a coherent state no more. Yet, is that not our fortune? That when we eliminate an old adversary, a new springs up in its place, more wretched and terrible than the last? I feel as Hercules did, combating the Hydra. Whenever we deal a mortal blow, that of severing a head, two more terrible than the severed grow in its place. We lack the relatively simple and obvious solution available to Hercules of being able to cauterize their stumps. Unless there is some way to stop the entry of these creatures into our world, we are treating the symptoms. We are amputating the gangrenous flesh just a few inches behind the infection. Unless we can ever remove their means of entry, my theory will be confirmed, that humanity is doomed to the chains of slavery, whose clinking and clanging I hear louder in my ears with each passing day.

CHAPTER II: RUTHENIA
With little else to do as I lead my army into Ruthenia, I dedicate this next passage of my work to the precise nature of these creatures, whom I shall hereafter refer to as apparitions, for their tendency to appear out of nowhere and form whole civilizations. I have to work somewhat on rumor, surely much of it more terrible than the actual truth. In the style of true Attic logic, I will ruminate on some general observations I have and attempt to draw conclusions, and then on each of the apparitions I have heard of in order of their proximity to the Roman Empire.

Principally, all the apparitions (with one possible exception to be expounded upon when I have the time) come as conquerors, yet not exterminators. Were they devils, as some fanatics would have us believe, they would never cease massacring. However, they exhibit remarkable harmony with one another; to date I have recieved no report of an inter-apparate conflict. Therefore I cannot rule them out, as a strange harmony would be expected of demons (see: The Gospel of Matthew, chapter 12 verses 25 and 26), as predicted by our Lord and not of civilizations.

Yet, perhaps they recognize we, the Earth’s soldier ants scrabbling to protect our little hill, are the primary threat to each of them, and not each other. Therefore they refuse to combat one another until they are more untrustworthy of each other than us. However, that begs the question, how do they not bear the same apprehension towards each other as we do for them? Clearly they are unrelated; we are look closer to mules than some of them do each other, yet they don’t move against one another even when (and here I rely on rumor) their lands are sparsely defended. It stands to reason, therefore, that in our lands is not the first time they have encountered one another and may have entered our world with pre-existing pacts . They are all of similar origin.

Now, as we draw closer to the first, and God-willing, final engagement with perhaps the least human of the apparitions, I will describe them as our scouts have seen them, hoping to rely on rumor as little as possible.

My initial rhetoric regarding these creatures proved prophetic. They are insectoid, but their intraspecies polymorphism prevents an exhaustive description. They do not converse, at least, no one has heard them converse in any language. There is some report of some sort of instantaneous communication; all attempts at infiltration have proven impossible as when one dies, the others are immediately aware. The scouts claim this instantaneous communication but reason would suggest the most likely explanation is supernatural hearing that foils their attempts at stealth.

It matters not. We go now in tremendous force; the entire Roman Army, every Thematic and Tagmatic man converges on Ruthenia. As of yet my courier has not returned from the Rus, but I suspect they will aid us.

I am.

I see.

I live.

I have purpose.

This world hates purpose. I have already seen enough to know. Waves of purposeless shells driven by individual minds motivated by self interest roam this world. They are feeble in my eyes when compared to opponents of ancient times. But then I was not alone, the life songs were echoed by thousands of my kind and now I alone remain. But I live and I have purpose still.

I spin through countless teeming bodies as my will instructs and purpose flows. I see through countless eyes as the work continues and the great clusters rise, towers that dwarf the buildings of purposeless ones.I feel pleasure at the progress but I feel fear that it might not be enough. Eyes go dark as they give me warnings in death. The purposeless shells are massing and I must endure. All pieces return. Nearly all.

I have learned from the past. Though the shells have no purpose there are those who pretend among them. There is nothing like me among their shells but some have importance and are leaders. The word is strange even within my own thoughts and I struggle with the concept as I always have. What could possess these individualistic purposeless shells to unify. It has always seemed a contradiction.

I shall break their false purpose.