The Second Battle of Chysana'sal

[DoS Archive]

Date: 1/7/98 9:35 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Gnimish RW

((Heyas. Just thought I'd write this little tidbit here to give some of you an idea of what exactly Gnimish was up to during that absence of his. I'm no storyteller, though, so don't come tryin' ta lynch me if this is terrible or something. It is somewhat long, but it at least explains a bit about Shylasa, Gnimish, and Drakhan. -Mike))

"The Second Battle of Chysana'sal, Pt. 1"

The old gnome stood at the front of the lead Cloudcrusier in what remained of the Shylean fleet, the cold winter air blowing around him, making the cold atmosphere that much worse. The crusiers, a gnomish invention, resembled large galleons, only with wings on their sides in place of the sails usually sported by such ships. They served only one purpose, the gnome thought, and that is to destroy. These behemoths have no other purpose in
the world than that...

Gnimish turned then, looking behind him at what remained of the fleet. Three battle crusiers, like the one he currently was on, remained, supported by twelve smaller Cloudcrusiers. These damaged remnants were all that remained of the once glorious fleet. The rest either stolen by the rebel forces, or lost at the battle of Kalandar, the battle than began this war, the battle from which Gnimish learned the folly of overconfidence. He
would not make the same mistake twice, though. He had planned this battle for days, trying to predict every possible outcome. Unfortunately, most of the possible outcomes seemed to come down to the sheer numbers of the rebels overcoming the battered loyalists.

"No matter, enough of this thought." the gnome muttered to himself. He had confidence that his people would prevail, and that Drakhans' forces would play their part. Gnimish had convinced Drakhan that he would serve best if he would take on a form more befitting such a battle, and the dragon had agreed. It would be interesting to see if the ever-drooling lizard had actually done so, though. The gnome smiled, remembering his old friend,
hoping they would make it through this to see each other again.

At that moment, a lieutenant walked beside the gnome, interrupting his thoughts. "Gnimish, we are approaching Chysana'sal. Shall I have the fleet begin taking up positions?" The gnome nodded his consent. "Indeed, Sithan. Have the other crusiers form a semi-circle around the eastern side of the area. We have to be ready when they come." Sithan flashed a quick salute and turned to begin coordinating the movements of the huge Cloudcrusiers.


The gnome looked down at the landscape below. The once magnificent Chysana'sal, the palace that had housed Gnimish and his daughter for many years was now just a pile of rubble. The rocks and dust leaving no sign of the beautiful palace that had seemed to be built of opaque blue crystal before. It had taken quite some time and a considerable amount of magic to construct Chysana'sal, and it was truly a pity that it had been destroyed by
those unable to appreciate it. The small masses of people standing on the groud had already taken positions a day before, the loyalist ground forces having camped out, trying to find the most advantageous positions to defend the area. Gnimish knew better, though. No matter what they did, if the battle in the air was won by the rebels, the forces on the ground were doomed. It was as simple as that.

Sithan signaled the gnome, who simply nodded. The fleet was finished taking up positions, and was prepared. At least, it was as close to being prepared as one could call it. No one had ever been trained in ship to ship combat on the Cloudcrusiers, it never having seemed likely it would ever be neccessary. Especially against people they had thought friends only a month or so earlier. No, they were not ready for this, just as Gnimish had
not been ready for Kalandar.

On the horizon, Gnimish could see small specks beginning to form. The rebel Cloudcrusiers were finally arriving from the west, and even from this distance, Gnimish could see they outnumbered his forces by quite a margin. The Emperor of Shylasa could only hope his planning and Drakhans' forces could make up for the obvious disadvantage they were at...

((More on da next page. If you've gotten this far, I commend your incredible patience. ))

[DoS Archive]

Date: 1/7/98 9:40 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Gnimish RW



"The Second Battle of Chysana'sal, Pt. 2"


Half an hour later, the rebel Cloudcrusiers were close enough to begin to count their exact number. Arrayed against the three battle crusiers and twelve support ships of the loyalist fleet were seven battle crusiers and eighteen smaller craft. Gnimish looked at the number, knowing there were more to the rebel fleet than just this. Perhaps they were occupied elsewhere, or whoever was leading this rebellion simply did not think any greater
numbers were neccessary to finish off the loyalists.

Gnimish had his thoughts interrupted once again as the battle was joined by the opposing crusiers. It began according to the usual tactics used by crusiers. The rebel mages began charging their spells and throwing bolts of fiery force at the loyalist crusiers, which responded in kind, with similar spells. The gnome watched the sheer number of bolts soaring toward his ships and sighed. "They've even more mages than we, Sithan! Order the
rear of the fleet to move forward into the enemy! We cannot fight them like this for long!"

No sooner than the Emperor had finished his orders did the bolts from the rebel mages crash into the loyalist fleet. Almost immedately did one of the smaller support crusiers begin to dip its' left wing down and begin to slowly sink towards the earth below, the magic holding it in the air having been disrupted. Gnimish immedately began barking orders to the crew of his crusier, disturbed that one of his ships had already been taken down.
The rebel ships seemed to be following a systematic strategy, targeting a single crusier at a time, overwhelming it with a massive amount of firepower.

Already two of the loyalist crusiers had been destroyed, one on the ground below, one having exploded in mid-air, an occurance that stunned both sides for a scant moment. "Gods, we've not even yet begun the battle in earnest!", Gnimish screamed, his patience worn thin, and his already damaged mind becoming more irrational.

The crusiers closed on each other, and the fiery bolts began slamming with more force into the ships on both sides, a few impacting on the floor of the gnomes' ship, rocking the crusier and forcing Gnimish to grasp the rail to keep from falling off. The good thing was, at this range, the sheer numbers of the rebels didn't have the same effect they did at longer range. At least the battle was looking slightly less weighted in their favor,
the gnome thought.

Aboard the lead crusier of the rebel forces, the General leading the fleet was having the same thought. He turned to his first officer, "Signal the Asebra. Have them attack the crews of the Imperial crusiers." The officer nodded quickly and began yelling orders to the rest of the crew. Almost immedately, the green skinned, demon-like creatures took wing from the ground and soared up to meet the imperial crusiers.

Gnimish watched the winged creatures fly upward. He knew if they reached the crews of the crusiers they were doomed. Worse, the ships would still be intact for the Asebra to take control of. The Emperor had prepared for this, though, and as the Asebra took wing, a flight of dragons, black and crystalline soared out from behind the mountainous terrain of the area, ripping into the ranks of the Asebra, tearing the vast majority of them into
ribbons before they had a chance to get close to the imperial crusiers.

The gnome looked at the dragons, seven strong. They were of the last remaining on Shylasa, only twelve were known to remain on the world. There were four black dragons and three crystal, the beautiful scales of the crystal glittering in the little sunlight that remained on the battlefield, night rapidly falling. At the fore of the group was a true behemoth, decimating every Asebra in his path. Gnimish could recognize Drakhan Del'armino even
at this distance, and was relieved that the lizard had decided to go with his larger form.

Even with the dragons, though, a handful of Asebra made it to the crusiers, and seemed to know exactly where Gnimish was among the fleet. Three Asebra landed a scant ten feet from the Emperor, who looked upon the winged abominations with disgust before drawing Kitaka-sa'kai and yelling to Sithan, who immedately leapt at the demons, sword flashing. Sithan was brave, but inexperienced, though. He managed to wound one of the creatures, but was
quickly dispatched by another, the things claws rending the boy nearly in two.

An explosion rocked the ship then, and Gnimish fell against the rail again, Kitaka-sa'kai falling to the deck with a clatter. It didn't take long for the two remaining Asebra to descend upon the Emperor, who was forced to fight alone, the rest of the crew either killed by the flame raining around them, or fighting for their own lives. Gnimish ducked one of the creatures flashing claws, but took a hit on his left arm from the other, sending
him spinning to the deck. He rolled over and grabbed Kitaka-sa'kai, standing quickly and sweeping the blade outward, catching the arm of an Asebra and cleaving it from the body of the creature. The last Asebra took advantage of the gnomes' unbalance to land a blow to his side, leaving a long but shallow cut, to which Gnimish responded to with a quick thrust, impaling the thing and pushing it over the railing.

The gnomes' blood was spilling onto the deck of the crusier from the wound in his side, but the pain was dull..distant. He looked out to the remainder of the battle to see his dragons descending on the rebel ships. The mages attacked the dragons, having litle effect, but landing the occasional lucky blow with a well-timed spell. One of these spells hit a crystalline dragon, who screamed in pain and fury before falling quickly to the earth
below with a sound that could be heard even from as high up as the Emperor stood. He looked down at the broken body of the crystal, but his emotions were slight and detached, as always.

Drakhan, though, ever rash in his actions, descended directly in front of a rebel battle crusier, his massive wings blocking what little light there was left and casting the ship into shadow before releasing his acidic spittle onto the unfortunate crew of the crusier. Gnimish could hear the combined screams of that crew and smiled, taking a perverse pleasure in the pain and death of these people. The people who had destroyed his empire. The
same kind of people who had taken his daughter from him. The smile quickly faded, though, as he saw a second crusier approach Drakhan from behind, the lizard still attacking the first crusier, thought it was already falling to the earth.

A mage from the second crusier fired a blast of light at the dragon, illuminating him in the descending darkness of the night, making him a perfect target for the ballista mounted on the front of the ship. The huge projectile from the artillery tore through Drakhans' side, releasing a wave of blood into the air and causing the dragon to go into an immediate dive toward the ground. The sudden change in direction caused the older wound in his
left wing to tear open, and caused the leathery material of the wing to rip even further, leaving Drakhans' wing nothing more than a tattered mess as he plummeted toward the earth...


((Guess what? Another page to come! If yer this far, you must really like this sort of thing, or you're *really* bored. ;D ))

[DoS Archive]

Date: 1/7/98 12:04 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Gnimish RW
MsgId: <19980107070400.CAA24618@ladder02.news.aol.com>






"The Second Battle of Chysana'sal, Pt. 3"


As Drakhan fell to the earth, Gnimish screamed in anguish. The sound pierced the air, reaching over the battlefield. Drakhan was his oldest friend and a trusted ally. The only one he really, truly, trusted. He had truly loved Drakhan, something he could not say of anyone else on Shylasa. His only other loves, the Empire itself and his daughter, had already been taken from him, and the thought of losing Drakhan like this made him begin to
shudder with the feeling of emptiness he now felt.

That emptiness soon filled with a new feeling, though, as he watched Drakhan slam heavily into the ground below. A fury raced throughout the gnome, guiding his magic into a single flow. Out of the original two fleets, only twelve remained of the rebel fleet, and eight were left of the loyalists. The gnomes' eye landed on one of the rebel battle crusiers, and his fury began to manifest itself in the form of a mist-like wave of bluish energy
that flew quickly and washed over that ship. The misty energy began to destroy everything it came in contact with, and soon the rebel crusier began to fall apart, parts of it plummeting toward the earth below.

The remaining five dragons cut into the last eleven of the rebel crusiers, damaging the smaller ships, and sending the large battle crusiers into disarray. Not even the dragons could attack the massive Cloudcrusiers alone, though. Gnimish screamed out the order to advance into the enemy, and began throwing spells wherever his eyes focused. All the spellcasting made him a perfect target, though, and even as the two fleets crashed into each
other again, a lone archer fired at the Emperor, hitting him hard in the upper right of his body, knocking him over once again. The pain from his body began to register in his mind, and his vision clouded over slightly. He was determined to see this battle through, though, and stood shakily.

Within a half hour, the rebel fleet had been cut down to a mere three ships, including one battle crusier. Gnimish's crusier approached this one, and as they neared each other, he caught sight of the leader of this particular fleet. "Damn him," the gnome muttered. "General Shavik..." This had been the very mercenary who had masqueraded as a lord in the second Galneon/Gnimoi war. This had been the very man responsible for the capture and
subsequent death of Gnimish's daughter. The hatred in the gnomes' heart grew even more, and he yelled the order for the remainder of the fleet, a whole six strong, to attack this one crusier. The dragons made it there first, though, and their combined power quickly overwhelmed the ship, the rear part of the crusier beginning to break off after a black dragons' acidic breath ate away a large part of the deck.

Shavik just looked up at Gnimish and smiled as his crusier slowly began to fall. He pulled a small orb out of his pocket and crushed it, vanishing in a burst of bright light, once again evading the wrath of the one whom had hunted him for so many years...Gnimish pounded on the railing of his crusier, angry at not being able to capture the mercenary. He didn't even think that he had actually won this battle, taking the Chysana'sal area away
from the rebels. The pain reached his mind again, then, and he lost his balance, falling to the deck.

"Damn him to hell," Gnimish said quietly as he watched a crew member rush toward him, his vision quickly fading. "He can't win this time..." And with that, the Emperor of Shylasa, overwhelmed with the pain and loss of blood, watched the world fade into darkness...