[mattyburn7]

It was a warm spring day that hinted at the summer to come when the caravan from Marignon arrived. In truth it was a rag-tag group that had been harassed on their way by the flyers of Caelum. But arrived they had with a message from their Pretender. It was a plea for aid from the war-mongering flying rats of Caelum.

The Great Nation of Bogarus raised the banners for war and struck out for the Caelum lands. Alas, their was a problem. For some time the evil mages of Caelum had been sending monstrosities in the night to murder the mages of Bogarus. What appeared as an isolated annoyance became a drain on the great nation.

But we fought. We fought well, but there were too many. Slowly the flying rats infiltrated our lands and further whittled us down. A poison Golem arrogantly strutted across our entire lands. Emboldened by this, the lone province that remained of Atlantis struck out and also joined the fray.

Then came the fall day. A hoard of 150 flyers mostly with other evil hidden within. They struck Resting Heights and besieged the great capital while the Bogarussian army stayed inside. Then news came. The other great Bogarussian army killed the Pretender of Atlantis. With this news in hand the young warriors in Resting Heights called for action. They swore not to stay behind the walls while the flyers camped outside. The leaders counciled caution. Let them come to us so that we may have the first strike. So that we can raise battlefield defenses before the missiles come down on us.

But no said the youth and they overtook the leadership and led the great host out of the city walls. To find...

A Trap. The great host of flyers left and alone on the Caelum side stood just 2. A Large Poison Golem stared down the Bogarussian army while a lone evil mage taught in the arts of air and earth and death hid behind him.

It took the clumsy, foolish youth of Bogarus too long to call their spells. Not once, but twice the mage of Caelum brought stones from the sky. Many stones. Too many to count. When it was over, there was nothing left but the tears of widows and the stories to be handed down from generation to generation about the Defeat.

I tip my hat to Caelum. Well played. You whittled me down and got me to make a foolish move. You deserved to win the war. My forces will regroup at our Eastern capital and will bloody the nose of any that strikes at us.