MOBOTROPOLIS GAZETTE
"Things are just getting worse in Soumerica, eaglets, and there's no avoiding it. Our ace reporters and monitors have picked up three skirmishes between the United Wolf Packs and Pias Mysterioso over the coming week; it's important to remember the seasons work a bit different in Soumerica, and winter isn't a concern for them right now. As your intrepid eagle predicted, the Pias's experience in the region won them out in the first half, but after two decisive victories the wolves are on the march! Drago Wolf has acquired some strange new weapon that has bested the cat caudillos at every turn! But will they be able to punch through Endless River Fortress Zone into the mountain homeland of the cats? And what is Drago's endgame? Or High Chieftan Loup, for that matter? And how is the Echidna conspiracy benefiting from all of this?! Baseless speculation to follow-"
Soar the Eagle, political commentator.

Cartoon:
King Elias waves to a crowd, clearly a puppet, his strings being pulled by a giggling Echidna.
"You should see him drink a glass of water!"

WOLF PACK
The wolf armies are centered around small formations, or packs, led by a semi-independent warleader sworn to follow the tribally appointed warchief. In this case, the chief is Drago Wolf, formerly an outcast and currently warchief by virtue of being the only consistently successful general against the feliadae. Drago is still in his black polo shirt, collar popped, but he's wearing a golden helmet studded with turquoise and the familiar shield and short spear arms of his people. He is feared for his special Mobian power, a blast of hot air that can blow opponents over or even scald weaker ones, and for his mysterious secret weapon, the Ghost Rondo, that had won him the crucial battle of Mouseskull Creek just a week ago.

Loup had regretted giving him any power at all, in the end. She realized, perhaps too late, that Drago was too canny a rogue to be placated, and a war like this was the perfect opportunity for a clever brute like him to clime in prestige and power. Now he has a bodyguard, collars popped and hair slicked back, following his every move. The dreams of gold that have been haunting him for months seem closer and closer. The former Destructix licks his lips, for soon it will all be his.

"Tonight!" He barks to the packs, "We take this fortress! We open up the road to the cats's city! We take back what is ours! Their treachery at Mystic Ruins has revealed their true face! They think we are dogs to be brought to heel, my friends, a line of flesh between their civilization and Doctor Eggman! The world thinks we are wild animals, playing at civilization! Let us show them different! Show them our resolve! Show them that we are not a wild people of nomads and mercenaries to be used in the great game between Acorn and the other royal houses! We are a tribe and a nation of our own! We are WOLVES!"

The pack howls, stamping their feet and banging their shields. They pour over the river, supported by spear throwers and expert archers, brave warriors working to ford the river and get all important access to the gates. They fight as if death was no longer a fear of theirs.
MYSTERIOUS CATS,
Inside the fortress, the cat irregulars are unfamiliar with defensive warfare. They prefer, like their rivals, to work in small teams and use the terrain to their advantage, stalking their prey to death or shoving them off a mountain side. These are the finest knights of the kingdom, however, equipped with thick quilted armor and heavy clubs studded with razor sharp obsidian that can cut an armored badnik in half. The fortress itself is a squat, serious building situated to guard access over the great Endless River; it has gates, murder holes, sturdy walls of enchanted varnished stone that even Robotnik's horrors have trouble with, and pots of boiling oil ready to warm the bones of anything trying to climb. While the cats are uncomfortable with fortified warfare, they have not been a power in this region for so long by being unaware of how to work outside of their comfort zone.

They are, however, without their leader, and afraid; for the rumors say that the dead walk with the hated wolves. Sir Mousebane, the commanding officer, looks at the polished silver mirror, and speaks. "Razorclaw, when are you getting here? The dogs, they are about to attack!"

"Hold them off." Razorclaw grumbles into the mirror, shoving it into his robe. He is here to beg his queen for reinforcements, the reserves, in order to hold the river. It is the only way to ensure the dogs stay out of the homeland, that the sacred mysterious mists are not penetrated.

That the corruption and ruin that has plagued his dreams for a month does not come to his people. Their doom, he fears, is at hand.

The wolves cross the river. "COMRADES!" Mousebane shouts, as the great barrels of oil are brought up, "TO ARMS! THEY WILL NOT PIERCE THE MISTS!"
EGGMAN EMPIRE
In a secret monitoring lab deep below the earth, one of the dread leaders of the traitor legions of the Eggman Empire is going over important strategic questions.

"We have to consider a very important question." An ominous face on a monitor says, gesturing behind itself. The monitor flickers to reveal what looks like...a thirteen year old girl's room, with a little bed covered with stuffed animals and a rainbow head, posters on the wall, a colorful carpet, and a large vanity. Standing on the vanity is Thunderbolt the Chinchilla, a pudgy creature who is short even for her people, wearing an unflattering red jumpsuit with bright green suspenders and strange cables connecting from her back to her head. "WHO'S HOTTER: CLASSIC EGGMAN OR NEW, POST-SPECIAL ZONE ROBOTNIK!"

She gestures at her poster of old school Dr. Eggman, who literally looks like an egg, in an old fashioned swimsuit, doing a muscle pose. "Classic Eggman: Charming, brilliant, but approachable! The befuddled mad genius you can help see the world beyond his plans to enslave us all! And oh so cuddily! Bigger mustache, brighter smile!"

"Newschool Dr. Robotnik:" Another poster, showing the Doctor as most of you know him, in a napoleonic uniform with a build that's like someone held an egg upside down. "He's lost some weight, gained some muscle, and a leaner, meaner glare! Oh daddy tell me who to kill!!~" Thunderbolt rubs her cheek against the poster, which causes deadly sparks to fly out of her cybernetic enhancements and set something on fire.

She ignores this, "THUNDERBOLT POLL: All Egg Army grunts are to vote NOW or-"

"Miss Thunderbolt."

"Jimmy I'm busy."

"Miss Thunderbolt, the Genocide is HERE."

Thunderbolt pauses, falls off her little stool, and hits the ground with a thud. She slowly climbs back up it, none of her uniformed goons bothering to help her. "I've got it, I've got it Thunderfans, it's cool. Okay!" She claps her hands, another spark blasting the rabbot- borg next to her. "So you're Doctor Egghunk's cool new friends from hell or whatever, right??? Welcome to Soumerica! Today we're going to be winning this dumb war between the primitives who've treated us all like chattel for centuries, okay? Who's excited??"

Silence reigns.

"WHO'S EXCITED!" Thunderbolt stamps her little foot, and her elite guard quickly start applauding. "Thunderriffic! Now let's get a roll call while we wait for those dumb dogs to break the dumb cats's defenses! Then we SWOOP in and capture the lot of them! We get the fortress, and a whole group of prisoners to Legonize, or if they turn down my generous offer, get shipped to the big city for roboticization!"

Thunderbolt pauses, and rubs her cheeks, drooling a little. "To be completely crushed by the Doctor's will, transformed into a literal extension of his plans unable to do anything but mindlessly comply with his wishes...oh how daring, how lucky! Oh but I couldn't, I'm needed here, to lead the peoples of Soumerica into independence under Robotnik's peaceful tyranny! Oh the sacrifice! Oh Thunderbolt you noble creature!"

Sinister mercenaries from around the zone have been brought to Thunderbolt's outpost for the sole purpose of ensuring her surprise attack goes well.

 Bright Man votes for both classic and new Eggman and starts a long argument on the Eggman forums about the pros and cons of either and who most deserves to be called daddy.

 WHILE he's doing this he's also watching the unfolding battle about to be unleashed from below the cat-fortress in his dig-o-mobile with a bunch of drones and possibly any other robot masters/associate who wants to ride along.

 He's not particularly fond of this plan in particular(too much mass death and roboticization, not enough hugging) but, well, this world is not his world and he's more then happy to just move along with the flow of things.

Hathor was trying to take a meeting with a foreign diplomat when this latest attack began. The queen, along with several foreign dignitaries, were in a sub-room inside of the ziggurat when a runner arrived to give Hathor the news about the wolves at the river.

Hathor is advancing toward the front lines, likely accompanied by others. The Orange Emerald glows on the crest of her crown. Her eyes burn with crackling Chaos energy as she fortifies herself with the power, waiting for the battle to come.

"This uprising must be quelled before we can finalize our agreement, Lady Aensland," Queen Hathor says. "I feel a great misfortune approaching, but its source is shrouded from me.

Felicia has been going native for over a month now, and looks the part, dressing with native decor - it not native clothes. That's something, at least, that never changes about Felicia, as awkward as it makes it around some. She is none too happy about this latest development, already harboring a level of resentment towards Razorclaw's hostile demeanor - she's always been a bit of a peacenik. She bristles unhappily, following on with Hathor and Morrigan.

WHY IS ARMATURE ADDERLY HERE IN CAT TOWN

"Oh, no, I'm not an Overlander," Armature says to the feline irregulars - or had, some time ago. "See? Nah, my father's a snake, though."

"You don't believe me? Give us that sausage -"

BECAUSE SHE IS SHORT AND HAS BEEN TRAINED IN NEGOTIATION WITH LOCAL FORCES BY ELITE RANGER OF THE FIRST EARTH BATTALLION RUFUS LASTNAME, THAT'S WHY

UNFORTUNATELY Armature estimates, looking over the parapets, that she is not going to be able to fight this entire army on her own. She shakes her head slightly to herself.

"So just to review," she mutters to herself (in Irish to avoid offending the locals on accident), "Improv fort, middling discipline, bad position, crossing the river, tech level low but can't do shock. Yeah," she says, reaching into her hip pocket and unfolding a kit with an extendable-to-four-meters antenna, turning and pushing a button, "it's time."

THE BUTTON! This device doesn't look like much but it has a Saraband-compatible chip. Armature pipes a short report on the location and situation into radio text, which in turn is sent on the wavelengths that the UNIFIED ARMY monitors here in Mobius.

She slips back into general talk. "Do these fellows fear thunder? Such creatures do in my world."

Morrigan Aensland walks alongside Hathor as an equal, her eyes half-lidded.

The lack of diplomacy in her outfit is not a concern on this plane: red leather pants, motorcycle boots, a white dress shirt and a black, silver-studded Morganwear jacket. A note of interest are her gloves: black, matching leather, but with circled pentagrams on the back of each. The left has six indentations, with one at each point and a final in the middle. At one of the points if the Chaos Emerald of Space.

"Greater than the misfortune of battle?" says Morrigan, her voice smokey. "One shudders in anticipation."

Gideon floats high above the ground, watching the movements of soldiers and considering the implications of the impending battle.

His arms are crossed, Psycho Power kept to ridiculously low levels. He doesn't make a single move beyond the movements of his eyes, his mind wide open to the arrival of large powers, and if anyone of particularly large Killing Intent arrives.

There's no real Grave presence here, and Gideon hasn't declared why he's here or who he's here for in public.

He's also been gone for an entire year.

But Gideon arriving has never been something to stay quiet for a particularly long time.

You'd think a brand new global -- /interdimensional/ -- threat would be enough to pull everyone together, right?

Well, clearly not, or Cinnamon wouldn't be in Soumerica. Felicia, blessedly, has been keeping an eye on the Mysterious Cat Country (as Cinnamon still thinks of Pais Misterioso because it's a cool name). The advance warning from Felicia and Armature Adderly is barely enough -- it takes time to figure out a portal position, and they still can't drop straight into the Mysterious Cat Country.

When the portal /does/ eventually open, it's fortunate that Cinnamon has decided to man a vehicle out of an overabundance of caution. The Frog drops out of nowhere straight into the river with a SPLOOSH -- fortunately(?) not crushing any of the Wolf Pack underneath it when it lands.

The signal from Armature Addely when THE BUTTON is pressed is basically a scramble signal, and despite the chaotic Chaos energies, a portal opens to the north of the battle in Soumerica and a squadron of winged flies burst out of the opening in space, lead by Eltonbrand.

	Their wings angled back and engines running hot, the squadron afterburn towards the battle field. Something about...the dead rising has put all of them in to an urgency rarely seen amongst the winged android women.

Dante is of course a free agent that keeps his own agenda and manages his own time. But in the course of this, he's been working with the Unified Army for reasons of keeping the peace. Secretly, he was on a mission of Love and Justice, the full shape of which was only understood by Morrigan. But in the process, he brought a target of some interest into the Unity base, and was waiting around there to make sure he was cleared to go.

This was when things started to get exciting again. Unity indicated that an operation was occuring back on Mobius side. Dante was up for a little more action, as long as they're taking care of him afterwards.

The arrival portal opens up over the river. Dante has a second to react to this, hitting the water surface like a bullet rather than a cannonball. He has to do everything he does with style and grace.

He walks out of the water at its edge, soaked and shirtless. His hair is wet, and he pushes some of it out of his eyes, but it does just fall right back there again.

He's not sure yet who the prime targets are. But, hey, Morrigan is here, and Cinnamon did the drop, so it should be sorted out soon enough.