Wambeen weeped quietly, a rag on their face to prevent to contagion. It had been blessed by a batfolk cleric, before she was captured and tortured into becoming one of THEM.
Wambeen left their cave, granting them the apocalyptic visage of what once used to be valley. Calamity Beasts roamed far and wide, but there was no diversity on what seasons they brought. Beza, the Spring Elk, now only emanated oil. Maha, the night owl, only emanated toxic clouds that compleated vicitims in seconds. Even the Sun Hawk, once bright and luminous, now shone with an alabaster light from the porcelain, brightly amidst the clouds of oil following the light.
Oil, oil and more oil. Oil clogged the waterways, and replaced the water in many of them, killing thousands of animal folks that relied on the water to survive. Those later arose as part of the invaders, their bodies ruined by oil slicked metal and flaying all but the faces, to remind the survivors of what fate awaited them.
Valley was not safe, not anymore.The raccoons left as soon as some of them grew copper plates; some would call them cowards, others wise. The remaining birds and bats were evacuating, make-shift flying chariots aiming to carry as many refugees as possible, but many glisteners infiltrated the gatherings and performed acts of terrorism, exploding necrogen and mycosynth to corrupt all. Not a single kit, chick, cub or tadpole was safe from the machinations of the machines, tortured into becoming one of THEM.
Wambeen flicked their tongue and scratched their scaly skin. No signs of infection. Good.
"Alright everybody!" they shouted as they addressed the survivors before them, "The next bird squadron might arrive here in about an hour, but I can't promise their arrival. We must fight!"
"With what weapons!?" a ratfolk answerred, "They infect us and overwhelm us! What we have is not enough!"
"Then use your magic, and I know most of you can weave!"
To make a point, Wambeen punched the air, creating a fire stream.
"You idiot you're going to lead them to us!" a rabbit protested.
"I don't care. I will fight them until my scales are scorched!"
"There is no need of that..." a mechanical voice said.
Many gasped in fear, others cried. Before them stood their champion, Mabel, now flayed, covered in porcelain plates and with her children grafted into her chest. Cragflame no longer shone like an ember, but instead was pitch black, oozing oil.
"Climb up the tree!" Wambeen said, "I'll deal with her!"
'Dealing with her' was a bit easier said than done. Wambeen shouted and punched torrents of fire, but Mabel was fast and nimble, even with her kids weigthing her down. She slashed at Wambeen's shoulder, and the lizard knew they had no option but to die.
"Damn it!"m but they steeled their resolve.
By focusing all mana around and within them, Wambeen exploded lethally, flames erupting from their body to cleanse the taint and burn the flesh. Sooner they laid down on the ground, watching as the birds and bats came to rescue the survivers up the tree. They then turned to Mabel; electric jolts shot in her legs, as if she was charging to reach them.
"No... you... DON'T!" and Wambeen rage was enough to consume their brittle body.
This time, the explosion got Mabel, freeing her soul from the horrible deeds under Phyrexia.
In the sky, a few refugees mourned both figures, a distraction from how uncertain their future was.
Wambeen left their cave, granting them the apocalyptic visage of what once used to be valley. Calamity Beasts roamed far and wide, but there was no diversity on what seasons they brought. Beza, the Spring Elk, now only emanated oil. Maha, the night owl, only emanated toxic clouds that compleated vicitims in seconds. Even the Sun Hawk, once bright and luminous, now shone with an alabaster light from the porcelain, brightly amidst the clouds of oil following the light.
Oil, oil and more oil. Oil clogged the waterways, and replaced the water in many of them, killing thousands of animal folks that relied on the water to survive. Those later arose as part of the invaders, their bodies ruined by oil slicked metal and flaying all but the faces, to remind the survivors of what fate awaited them.
Valley was not safe, not anymore.The raccoons left as soon as some of them grew copper plates; some would call them cowards, others wise. The remaining birds and bats were evacuating, make-shift flying chariots aiming to carry as many refugees as possible, but many glisteners infiltrated the gatherings and performed acts of terrorism, exploding necrogen and mycosynth to corrupt all. Not a single kit, chick, cub or tadpole was safe from the machinations of the machines, tortured into becoming one of THEM.
Wambeen flicked their tongue and scratched their scaly skin. No signs of infection. Good.
"Alright everybody!" they shouted as they addressed the survivors before them, "The next bird squadron might arrive here in about an hour, but I can't promise their arrival. We must fight!"
"With what weapons!?" a ratfolk answerred, "They infect us and overwhelm us! What we have is not enough!"
"Then use your magic, and I know most of you can weave!"
To make a point, Wambeen punched the air, creating a fire stream.
"You idiot you're going to lead them to us!" a rabbit protested.
"I don't care. I will fight them until my scales are scorched!"
"There is no need of that..." a mechanical voice said.
Many gasped in fear, others cried. Before them stood their champion, Mabel, now flayed, covered in porcelain plates and with her children grafted into her chest. Cragflame no longer shone like an ember, but instead was pitch black, oozing oil.
"Climb up the tree!" Wambeen said, "I'll deal with her!"
'Dealing with her' was a bit easier said than done. Wambeen shouted and punched torrents of fire, but Mabel was fast and nimble, even with her kids weigthing her down. She slashed at Wambeen's shoulder, and the lizard knew they had no option but to die.
"Damn it!"m but they steeled their resolve.
By focusing all mana around and within them, Wambeen exploded lethally, flames erupting from their body to cleanse the taint and burn the flesh. Sooner they laid down on the ground, watching as the birds and bats came to rescue the survivers up the tree. They then turned to Mabel; electric jolts shot in her legs, as if she was charging to reach them.
"No... you... DON'T!" and Wambeen rage was enough to consume their brittle body.
This time, the explosion got Mabel, freeing her soul from the horrible deeds under Phyrexia.
In the sky, a few refugees mourned both figures, a distraction from how uncertain their future was.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKFQ7Q38/ a book based on Lusitanian Mythology