The Lyonar Kingdom lives by a doctrine of total, indefatigable war. No matter the foe, the golden Generals refuse to acknowledge defeat, instead contenting themselves to match blade for blade with any opponent. It is for this reason that they so often face defeat at the hands of the Abyssian: the tireless armies of the Lyonar are not indestructible, and the forces of undeath can be literally endless, between the infinite waves of Wraithlings and vile school of necromancy. To defeat such an enemy, the Lyonar, never willing to admit defeat, developed combat tactics specifically countering Abyssian tactics. The Sunbloom Artillery was merely the first of such specialized divisions, and with the first battalionās defeat the full force of the military was now bearing down on the Ruins.
So began the assault: an aerial rift opened above the ancient locus. As the Suntide Maidens poured from the portal, descending lightly upon the enemy, heavier units simply dropped like gilded cannonballs to the earth and left craters in the soiled earth. The Lysian Brawlers, fan favorites in the arena and on the battlefield, began the blitzkrieg immediately. Azurite Lions hit the ground running and tore towards the torrid target, sun bleached by the previous offensive.
The plan was a swift strike to assist the Grand Magusā war hungry ways, but mere minutes of reconnaissance revealed the avian ally had suffered defeat at the hands of another rival faction: the reptiles were here, and they were moving quickly towards unlocking the Ruins.
ZiāRan pouted and exhaled, flexing her robotic limbs. With her six armored appendages, two swords and two shields, she resembled some sort of deity of melee combat. She had come prepared for Abyssian, but the Magmar were an entirely different nuisance. She beckoned back the swift melee units and called the first Celerity Division to attention.
āCrusader Formation,ā she said, and the beasts surged into the tunnels with nationalistic Zeal. Those who do not know Azurites may underestimate the intelligence of these heavy feline cavalry units, but they are actually capable of understanding and executing complex maneuvers independent of riders. Now, they ran the stone corridors of the Ruins, hunting for victims.
A white haired woman turned the corner and sank a left hook into her attacker. Limp, the big cat fell to the side, but another leaped over the azure corpse and lept into combat. This one too was shattered completely, but out of the saddle lept a tiny mammalian creature. Confused, Taygete knelt down to observe this adorable animal, but a fiery glow sent her running for cover: the Slo was wreathed in heavenly flame, engulfing the hallway in a Holy Immolation.
These grenade-like Battlepets sank the Ruins into chaos, as squads of lions dropped incendiary rounds on surprised reptiles. Dazed by the explosions the Magmar were easy pickings for the heavier infantry, sliced to ribbons by the wings of the Maidens. From behind her forward line, ZiāRan annihilated the Warbeast bearing down on her troops with a Draining Wave.
āHeal!ā she shouted, and her assistant administered another Sundrop Elixir. The magic drink seeped into her wounds, and she immediately blasted a Silithar with a second Wave. Between her arcane barrage, the heavy infantry, and grenade-like Immolations that turned the Ruins into a deadly game of āThe Floor is Lavaā, the Lyonar purge was nearly unstoppable.
Nearly.
An Azurite bounded to ZiāRanās side, nudging its mane into her elbow in search of praise. She obliged him momentarily, but took note of the green and purple mass in its jaws. Coaxing the beastās fangs apart, she pulled a young child in Abyssian garbs from the Lionās mouth. Still breathing, but unconscious; the child could not have been more than twelve, yet was horribly battlescarred.
Were she not a proud Lyonar, ZiāRan may have pondered the purpose of this battle, so great that it would drag a preadolescent into the maelstrom of war. But a Lyonar does not question any reason to crusade. Swiftly, deliberately, ZiāRan brought her sword to the neck of the infant.
A screech resounded throughout the Ruins, and a sound like rushing water echoed off the walls. Something big was coming, and fast.
Still clutching the child in one hand, ZiāRan ducked into a side room, and a wall of flesh slid past. The sounds of dying Lyonar mixed with the clash of mangled metal and scrape of stone on scales. A massive worm with a singular eye was patrolling the hallways of the Ruins, barely fitting the hallways due to its massive girth. Had ZiāRan noticed the rounded corners, worn down by the wormās path, perhaps she would have lead more carefully. As it stood now, she was facing an enemy far too large to battle outright.
Cut off from the bulk of her army outside and trapped in a windowless stone room, ZiāRanās mind raced for a solution. The Magmar were still in the Ruins, as were the Abyssian (or, at least, one harmless Abyssianette). Neither would be an ally to herā¦ but perhaps they could aid in defeating the worm?
The next person who writes better be interesting (and it better not be another update on how far away the Vetruvian are, or I will be super upset). Itās easy to say āI dispel the Worm and winā but letās try something fun, aye? I believe in you, fellow writers! 
