Nishnatoba

You are set as player two. You will martial the forces of the Gods. You can TOUCH 223790 LEAVE if you
want to leave the game.

The game will start in 30 seconds, you can TOUCH 223790 LEAVE if you wish to step away now.

You say, "What'd ye set it to?"

You say, "Short still?"

Ryuke nods his head emphatically.

Miniature troops manifest at either end of the game board.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 3, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 3.

You say to Ryuke, "It's your turn to begin."

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

Outpacing the unerring aim of the Aldar, the mounted Tsol race across the crafted plain, thousands of
jagged spider legs creating a thunderous roar with their multitudinous gallop. Sent to meet them, and
lead by Yen-Sorte, the Aldar legion traverse the rock-strewn distance eager to engage the Daedalan
fighters.

A dust cloud rises to conceal much of the fight, pierced by the stentorious shriek of wounded
creatures and stray beams of power. The seconds drag on as the fight rampages and soon the remnant
soldiers limp back from the fray toward their battle lines, leaving equal scores of friend and foe
crumpled or near-death upon the field.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 3, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 3.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

Ryuke smiles with pride as the Kx'Khrah form ranks upon the battlefield.

At some unseen signal, the ruby cohort of the Kx'Khrah legion crouch, staggering their height. The
diamond remain standing tall at the rear, whilst the light reflects bloody off the hunkered down
troops, their barbed tails poised. Without waiting for movement from the arachnid mounts of the
mustered Qui'anar, beams of light cross the gap, dazzling white from the chests of the diamond, to
blast the Tsol riders from their saddles.

With terrifying precision the scorpion tails of the ruby unerringly find those writhing upon the
ground, their lethal rays slicing through flesh and limb, leaving only sizzling decimation and the
faint screams of pain in their wake.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 3.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Pressed into action, the Scrula form phalanxes and march forth onto the deserted, darkened
battlefield, their numbers easily filling the dusty plains. Silence reigns for a ten count once the
alien soldiers halt, and little seems to move beyond the shadows flickering at the rear of their
flanks.

A bloody battle ensues as the many-armed warriors notice the manouever and prove more than capable at
close quarters combat. The element of surprise allows the Rajamala to at least stave off a loss.
Leaving as many Triumvir as Matsuhaman bloodstained and motionless, the feline soldiers limp back to
the shades from which they leapt.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 3.

It is your turn to order your troops!

The heavy tread of the Mercenaries of Arn is a comfort as you send the elite force to war.

You say to Ryuke, "Mefinks Her Ladyship may have been slightly biased when designing this game."

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "What are those?"

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "The forces you sent out?"

You say, "Mercenaries."

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.

Organising themselves to watch both their flanks and the front line, while the central force draws
forth their weaponry, the Mercenaries of Arn surge forward onto the field. Small squads of the
Rajamala split from the body of the main ranks, wheeling to harass the weaker side lines of the
giants, as the rest press forward under the defensive cover of arrowfire.

The flung rocks from the Prosperan forces crash into the feline soldiers, sending sprawling and
broken bodies flying, and causing a milling confusion of their front line. But the constant harrying
of the flanks and the volleyed fire from the back lines grants the Rajamala a brutal advantage, as
the fallen scrabble to their feet and, with an athletic advantage granted by their lithe forms, wreak
havoc through the tendons, ropes, and mechanisms of the Giants.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "Never reveal your strategy pup."

You say, "I've revealed no strategy."

You say, "Just evening the playing field."

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "You revealed your hand when I asked."

You say, "I enjoy the challenge."

You say, "A fight's no fun if it's stacked in your favour."

Ryuke nods his head emphatically.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "True."

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "But giving your enemy the winning hand is never a good
idea."

Ryuke smiles with pride as the Kx'Khrah form ranks upon the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

The heavy tread of the Mercenaries of Arn is a comfort as you send the elite force to war.

The Arcanians muster quickly and charge the still-forming, crystalline legions, their warcries
bloodcurdling as their giant feet kick up a dustcloud wake. You look away from the game board,
wincing at the telltale shriek of shattering glass, knowing it heralds a savage Kx'Khrah obliteration,
 the oversized stampede crushing the unready ranks.

Your Mercenaries earned their coin this day, the annihilation of the Kx'Khrah was total.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The sky above the table darkens, a cloud of spears hurled by the four-armed Scrula shading the
Nishnatoba board. The hailstorm falls, raining down ineffectively, thanks to the defensive shielding
magics of the Aldar.

Maintaining the shield against the storm of projectiles limits the offensive capacity of the
Triumvirate's Aldar, a stalemate is reached and both eventually draw back.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

"Heh heh heh," Ryuke chuckles.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

Outpacing the unerring aim of the Aldar, the mounted Tsol race across the crafted plain, thousands of
jagged spider legs creating a thunderous roar with their multitudinous gallop. Sent to meet them, and
lead by Yen-Sorte, the Aldar legion traverse the rock-strewn distance eager to engage the Daedalan
fighters.

A dust cloud rises to conceal much of the fight, pierced by the stentorious shriek of wounded
creatures and stray beams of power. The seconds drag on as the fight rampages and soon the remnant
soldiers limp back from the fray toward their battle lines, leaving equal scores of friend and foe
crumpled or near-death upon the field.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

Ryuke attempts to stifle his amusement but cannot help laughing aloud.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "See!"

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The Scrula advance before the crystalline ranks are ready, their approach silent and weapons readied.
Exhibiting their well-honed, Matsuhaman martial prowess, many wield two weapons and a shield, while
others have not bothered with the defensive measure.

The four-armed horde falls upon the Aldar, steel drawing life from body, while clubs crush limbs
before they can bring any defense to bear.

Only few of your Scrula survive this fight. Bedraggled and bleeding they limp back to your lines.

You say, "Muahaha."

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.


--------- Long silence ----------


Ryuke gives a horrified gasp.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "Is it my turn?!"

You say, "Yer turn again."

Ryuke smiles with pride as the Kx'Khrah form ranks upon the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "I have been waiting for you!"

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "Bahahaha."

The heavy tread of the Mercenaries of Arn is a comfort as you send the elite force to war.

You say, "Heh."

The sky darkens as the Kx'Khrah charge forwards, ruby and sapphire matching their eclectic gaits
beneath a parabola of projectiles thrown from the Arcanian war machines. The hailstorm falls, raining
down ineffectively, but proving just enough to catch your legion's attention. Taking advantage of the
falter, the hammer and club wielding giants enter into the fray, their heavy weaponry shattering
crystalline limbs with ease.

In a final, desperate act the diamond backline meld, crafting tall towers from which the top-most
segment can fire brutal beams of power, sound and light combining to create a formidable weapon that
cleaves through flesh as if it were butter. Soon, though, the ruby and sapphire lie, a mosaic of
brutality in shards across the battlefield; the dazzling fire of the diamond tower little use in
close quarters, formed as they are, and soon an overlay of glittering crystal finishes the gruesome
work.

Only few of your Mercenaries survive this fight. Bedraggled and bleeding they limp back to your lines,
 those not otherwise debilitated slowly towing the siege weaponry on heavy ropes.

Your forces number: Scrula - 3, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The clatter of weaponry brought to bear rattles throughout the room, as the Scrula ready themselves,
a weapon or shield in each of their four hands. Looming tall, many seemingly unarmed, Yen-Sorte and
Han-Silnar lead the Aldar forward to meet the Matsuhaman force.

Unphased by the myriad articles of death that the Scrula bear, the Aldar systematically coordinate
their magic. Careful aim and precision strikes, creating carnage amongst the ranks of the Gods.
Clutching at a small hope, a cohort of the Scrula cross the field, engaging the front line of the
Triumvirate force and taking down as many as they can before being called back in retreat.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 2, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

Pressed into action, the Horkval form phalanxes and march forth onto the deserted, darkened
battlefield, their numbers easily filling the dusty plains. Silence reigns for a ten count once the
insectoid soldiers halt, and little seems to move beyond the shadows flickering at the rear of their
flanks.

A bloody battle ensues as the horkval notice the manouever and prove more than capable at close
quarters combat. The element of surprise allows the Rajamala to at least stave off a loss. Leaving as
many Triumvir as armoured horde bloodstained and motionless, the feline soldiers limp back to the
shades from which they leapt.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 2, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 3, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

The leonine ranks of the Nevaharr leap forward from the edges of the battlefield.

Organising themselves in an attempt to protect both their flanks and the front line, the horkval
surge forward onto the field, faster than their formation can maintain. Small squads of the Nevaharr
split from the body of the main force, wheeling to harass the weakened side lines.

The Aegean force crash into the lion-legged humanoids using their chitin plating as a shield wall to
rebuff the Nevaharr, causing a milling confusion of the front lines. The constant harrying of the
flanks and the arrow fire from the back lines grants the short sword bearing troop a brutal advantage,
 they scrabble to their six-legs and put the horkval to the sword.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 2, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 2, Mercenaries - 2.

It is not your turn!

The leonine ranks of the Nevaharr leap forward from the edges of the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

Giving the armoured horkval barely a moment to muster, the bowmen of the Nevaharr lay down a
continuous blanket of arrow fire, pinning the insectoid force in a state of disorganisation, and
providing cover for two cohorts of sword bearers to gallop forth in a sweeping attack to the flanks.

Heralded by the chitters and screams of the Gods' troops, the pincer motion closes, deft action
turning the unready rabble into sprawling disarray. Each fallen soldier is dispatched with clinical
ease, a blade through the soft, unprotected tissues of the neck as the leonine-legged assassins
continue their bloody work, soon reducing the shambled force to a mass of gore-stained chitin.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 2, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You say, "This game is rigged."

"Heh heh heh," Ryuke chuckles.

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The clatter of weaponry brought to bear rattles throughout the room, as the Scrula ready themselves,
a weapon or shield in each of their four hands. Looming tall, many seemingly unarmed, Yen-Sorte and
Han-Silnar lead the Aldar forward to meet the Matsuhaman force.

Unphased by the myriad articles of death that the Scrula bear, the Aldar systematically coordinate
their magic. Careful aim and precision strikes, creating carnage amongst the ranks of the Gods.
Clutching at a small hope, a cohort of the Scrula cross the field, engaging the front line of the
Triumvirate force and taking down as many as they can before being called back in retreat.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 2.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

An alien chirrup fills the room, layered with creaks, chitters, and vibrato sawing, as the Horkval
fill the table, their number legion. Moving with an easy grace, the Rajamala move forward to meet the
insects, whips in hand.

Seemingly unshaken by the numerous force presented before them, they prowl in a loose formation
systematically searching with arrow and thrust to find an opening in the horkval ranks. But the
locust-like buzz of the swarm is unrelenting, their numbers too many. The feline archers draw back as
the warriors are overwhelmed by Aegis' multitude.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "I told you."

The defensive capabilities of your horkval are formidable, the Rajamala could gain no foothold, and
have been beaten back.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

Ryuke smiles with pride as the Kx'Khrah form ranks upon the battlefield.

Outpacing the dazzling aim of the Kx'Khrah, the mounted Tsol race across the plain, thousands of
jagged spiderlegs creating a thunderous roar with their multitudinous gallop. Sent to meet them,
followed by a shrilly chirruped warcry, the sapphire legion traverse the rock-strewn distance borne
upon winged leaps, these same proving razor-edged as the crystalline soldiers dive into the oncoming
spiders.

A dust cloud rises to conceal much of the fight, pierced by the stentorious shriek of wounded
creatures and stray beams of power. The seconds drag on as the fight rampages and soon the remnant
soldiers limp back from the fray toward their battle lines, leaving equal scores of friend and foe
crumpled or near-death upon the field.

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 2.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

Pressed into action, the Horkval form phalanxes and march forth onto the deserted, darkened
battlefield, their numbers easily filling the dusty plains. Silence reigns for a ten count once the
insectoid soldiers halt, and little seems to move beyond the shadows flickering at the rear of their
flanks.

A bloody battle ensues as the horkval notice the manouever and prove more than capable at close
quarters combat. The element of surprise allows the Rajamala to at least stave off a loss. Leaving as
many Triumvir as armoured horde bloodstained and motionless, the feline soldiers limp back to the
shades from which they leapt.

Ryuke says with a quiet, Shallamese accent, "My poor poor Rajamala."

That was a rough fight, but your troops managed to deal as much damage as they took. It is a tie.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 2.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You say, "What do your forces stand at right now?"

You say, "Mefinks I've lost count."

As a slight breeze moves by, the windchime is set into wonderous motion, letting out a clear,
whimsical melody.

The heavy tread of the Mercenaries of Arn is a comfort as you send the elite force to war.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.

A bugle's call rallies the Rajamalan forces of the Triumvirate, their blackened scalemail and iron-
tipped whips glimmering wickedly in the table's light. An echoing horn sounds from the lines of the
Gods, but nothing moves.

A minute passes, another summoning call goes out, this time, a slight figure moves along the board's
edge, reporting a mass poisoning of the Mercenary ranks, none can muster, none will fight. Without a
word, the victorious Rajamala break formation to saunter back to their camp.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 1, Mercenaries - 1.

The leonine ranks of the Nevaharr leap forward from the edges of the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send the indomitably armoured Horkval out, Aegis' shocktroops ever ready for war.

Giving the armoured horkval barely a moment to muster, the bowmen of the Nevaharr lay down a
continuous blanket of arrow fire, pinning the insectoid force in a state of disorganisation, and
providing cover for two cohorts of sword bearers to gallop forth in a sweeping attack to the flanks.

Heralded by the chitters and screams of the Gods' troops, the pincer motion closes, deft action
turning the unready rabble into sprawling disarray. Each fallen soldier is dispatched with clinical
ease, a blade through the soft, unprotected tissues of the neck as the leonine-legged assassins
continue their bloody work, soon reducing the shambled force to a mass of gore-stained chitin.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 2, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

It is your turn to order your troops!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

Ryuke smiles with pride as the Kx'Khrah form ranks upon the battlefield.

The diamond cohort of Kx'Khrah take up a defensive line, drawing the attention of the mounted Tsol
with dazzling beams of bright white power as their ruby brethren scuttle across the plains to meet up
close. Thousands of insectoid legs cause the board to tremble in your hands as spider and crystalline
scorpion thunder towards each other.

The ruby front lines stagger then shatter, to be trampled beneath the eight-legged horde as they meet
the Qui'anar. The first clash creates a carpet of jagged shards, too treacherous for the legs of the
spiders to traverse and allows the lines behind an advantage. With their barbed tails poised, the
Tl'Fah strike up a quick, savage massacre beneath the abdomens of the mounts, reaffirming their
sanguine hue as they drench themselves in a rain of blood.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 1, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

The leonine ranks of the Nevaharr leap forward from the edges of the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

A great weight seems to have been lifted from Ryuke.

Ryuke takes some salve from a vial and rubs it on his body.

The sky darkens as the Nevaharr move forwards at a ground-eating trot, shaded beneath a rising
parabola of arrows fired by the Qui'anar. A blistering heat rises behind the Triumvirate legion, a
wall of fire crafted by the elemental subjugators to prevent retreat.

This sole act shatters the focus of the Nevaharr and they break into a wild stampede. Crashing into
the Qui'anar ranks, they swing wildly injuring as many of themselves in the panic as opposition.

Congratulations, you have bested the enslaved Nevaharr.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 1, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

It is your turn to order your troops!

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The Scrula advance before the crystalline ranks are ready, their approach silent and weapons readied.
Exhibiting their well-honed, Matsuhaman martial prowess, many wield two weapons and a shield, while
others have not bothered with the defensive measure.

The four-armed horde falls upon the Aldar, steel drawing life from body, while clubs crush limbs
before they can bring any defense to bear.

Only few of your Scrula survive this fight. Bedraggled and bleeding they limp back to your lines.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 1, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

Ryuke tilts his head to one side while looking at nothing in particular, rubs his chin, and
thoughtfully mumbles "Hrm."

The leonine ranks of the Nevaharr leap forward from the edges of the battlefield.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

The sky darkens as the Nevaharr move forwards at a ground-eating trot, hellishly lit by the falling
parabola of meteor arrows launched by the Matsuhaman legion. A blistering heat rolls from behind the
Triumvirate force, a wall of fire crafted by the elemental subjugators of Agatheis to prevent retreat.

This sole act shatters the focus of the Nevaharr and they break into a wild stampede. Crashing into
the Scrula ranks, they swing wildly, injuring as many of themselves in the panic as opposition. The
terrifying coordination of the Scrula training cuts apart the frantic warriors.

Congratulations, you have won this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 1, Qui'anar - 1, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

It is your turn to order your troops!

With a nod, you send Matsuhama's Scrula forward to fight.

Ryuke nods his head emphatically.

Ryuke orders the Aldar onto the tabletop battlefield, Han-Silnar recognisable at the head of the
legion.

The clatter of weaponry brought to bear rattles throughout the room, as the Scrula ready themselves,
a weapon or shield in each of their four hands. Looming tall, many seemingly unarmed, Yen-Sorte and
Han-Silnar lead the Aldar forward to meet the Matsuhaman force.

Unphased by the myriad articles of death that the Scrula bear, the Aldar systematically coordinate
their magic. Careful aim and precision strikes, creating carnage amongst the ranks of the Gods.
Clutching at a small hope, a cohort of the Scrula cross the field, engaging the front line of the
Triumvirate force and taking down as many as they can before being called back in retreat.

It was a close battle, but the Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 0, Qui'anar - 1, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

It is not your turn!

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.
It is your turn to choose your fighting force!

You send out the spider-mounted Qui'anar, Daedalus would be happy at the balance of might in this
matchup.

A dark pall shades the game table, symbolising the moonless Nishnatoban night. Faint shades traverse
the space, dispersing from the Triumvir side toward the beacon-like campfires of the Qui'anar. The
alarm is raised as a cowled figure trips and falls into the picketed line of slumbering sword spiders
with a yowl.

The Rajamala freeze, their mission uncovered with the one blunder as the Tsol rise from their meals
and slumber. Quick thinking allows for adaptability, and the soldiers of Agatheis lay waste to the
mounts of the Qui'anar, slaughtering the arachnids, creating a small victory from a clumsy mistake.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 0, Qui'anar - 0, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 1.

It is your turn to order your troops!

The heavy tread of the Mercenaries of Arn is a comfort as you send the elite force to war.

The Rajamala lines rally with a roar as Ryuke sends them forth to fight.

A bugle's call rallies the Rajamalan forces of the Triumvirate, their blackened scalemail and iron-
tipped whips glimmering wickedly in the table's light. An echoing horn sounds from the lines of the
Gods, but nothing moves.

A minute passes, another summoning call goes out, this time, a slight figure moves along the board's
edge, reporting a mass poisoning of the Mercenary ranks, none can muster, none will fight. Without a
word, the victorious Rajamala break formation to saunter back to their camp.

You say, "Good game."

Ryuke nods his head emphatically.

The Triuvirate wins this round.

Your forces number: Scrula - 0, Qui'anar - 0, Horkval - 0, Mercenaries - 0.

A tiny cheer goes up from the Triumvirate's end of the table, Ryuke has won! The depiction of
Nishnatoba flashes jade in acknowledgement before turning dark, the game now over.

Trilliana's eyes sparkle with amusement.