The Imperial Wrecking Crew

Dar's Thoughts On The Road to Olympia


There were times I never thought I’d see it again. I’ve seen fantastic lands, fought incredible evil, nearly died several times, actually died a time or two. I even made my glorious and awesome return to gladiator pits. Picked up some new scars from an dishonorable shitstain of a Thri’Kreen, whos carapace now protects me and whos claws I now use to fight.

Hell. I saw Gregor start a religion. These new Gregorian monks both frighten and amuse me, but since Gregor stayed behind to build up his following the rest of us have been able to actually use tactics.

Of course, when you’re stuck in a cave with no entrance, no exit, and only slowly impending doom in the form of the goddess who’s plans you’ve been pissing on for the last decade or so, having a Gregor could’ve been pretty nice.

Oh well, as I said. Tactics. Of the Bitch Queen’s five heads, we ranked them in order of our perception of their threat to us, set our ranks and battle orders, and waited for the inevitable. Considering what we had been up against in the past, we all knew this could very well be our last battle, and Liad’s orders were not particularly helpful on that frame of mind.

We couldn’t beat her, but we could hopefully dissuade her from entering our plane and taking our home.

When she finally came through, we fought as one. Karl and Znam held our back line, for battlefield control through Karl’s beloved Caltrops (which proved essentially useless on this occasion), and reducing her visibility with wall of fog while Roy provided his unique brand of boon to our more direct combatants. Our front line fighters struck hard and swift, focusing on an individual head at a time (Red first, then Blue, Then Green, Then White, then Black), and one by one they were forced out of our realm. Dame Captain Bally Sanctified one of the heads so hard it backed off our plane entirely on it’s own, wanting nothing more to do with us.

Amazingly, when the dust had settled and her mural was broken and tattered, we stood together, battered, alive, and victorious. Liad is taking us home now, to the town of Olympia within my lands where I am told my brother is using as his headquarters.

Ciarra is damned near vibrating with excitement. Bally is an odd balance of reserved, giddy, and worried. Karl is… Karl. Znam is happy, but still reserved. I can see Roy is already figuring how to fit the details of our most recent battle into his Epic about our adventures. Our new member, Ross, seems out of sorts away from his home of Ravenloft.

But you know what? We’re all fucking alive.

Our world is our own.

We won, even if it is just for today. For now, I don’t give a damn about the battles of tomorrow. We did good, all of us. No matter what happens, I will gladly fight with any of these fine people at my back, against any foe and any odds.

But before that?

Drinks are on me.



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