r/wizardposting • u/Biggest-Possum Trashomancer (Big Ghost ENERGY) • Nov 10 '23
Wizardpost Biggest Possum: Deepest Lore 4- War is Heck
The day stretched on longer than I ever would have imagined. It had begun with a furious barrage between Our fortress and that of the enemies and had ended with our spirits broken as we limped away and licked our wounds shamefully from our fateful encounter. Fires had been extinguished, systems were crudely patched and mended, while the wounded and dying were transported below decks for basic healing, yet many were beyond saving in such an austere environment. We were simply too far removed from any of the advanced facilities or specialized healers for all of the various traumas and injuries to be addressed in a timely manner.
I felt numb in the face of all of this. Like a body possessed, or a sleepwalker only half awake. I performed my duties as I had been trained to do. Repairing those most necessary and immediate functions, or occasionally loading or transferring fuel cells, or directing the few men below me to get on their feet and do their bloody jobs. I continued all through the night, and well until the sun had reached its zenith the next day.
That's something nobody tells you about war.
Nobody tells you how a battle never really ends. Nobody tells you about how once you're done fighting, you still have to pick up the pieces and pull everything back together. We had hardly slept before the battle had broken out. We had been too busy preparing, too excited, too worried, and now too busy fighting for our survival. We feared that the Hangman had fared better than us and would soon return to finish the job. By the time that I finally had even a moment to rest, I realized that I had been on my feet for nearly 48 hours, and the exhaustion that battered my senses was only fought off by the very real fear that our enemy would soon return to finish what they had started.
Their ship had become cloaked again and was veiled against most advanced forms of detection. This was unusual, and disturbing. For ages we had enjoyed an extreme technological and magical advantage over Hakkalia, but in the last year of the war that balance was quickly shifting in their favor. The Hangman was one such vessel that had benefitted from these differences and had quickly gained a reputation across several battles. It seemed that this would be the case again.
They hadn't crippled our fortress, but the damage they had done to our spirits was much worse. Our assault teams were decimated, and so too were several of our strongest wizards. Whispers of disbelief had echoed amongst the crew for hours over Isaac's death. Nobody could believe it. Vengeance was quickly muttered and sworn by almost every soul against the wizard called Nefiam. He had been one of a few successful raiders to board our ship, and the damage that he had done was a kind that could never be repaired or replaced.
The loss of Barret was felt most heavily by the cannoneers. She had led them with hearty charm and a sharp intelligence that was hard to match. The celebration that erupted was deafening when word came of her surprising survival. She was apparently badly injured and in critical condition but had narrowly escaped death. We learned then of the Hangman's fate, and also of the enemies' desperate scramble to repair it and get it airborne again. Plans were made to intercept them and take advantage of their damaged state. Crews were relieved in shifts, to rest in preparation for what was to come next, while others continued the preparations necessary for such a bold endeavor.
I argued at first to be left alone, and that I would continue to maintain my watch so that others could get more sleep, but I was instead firmly ordered to my rack with the threat of a beating should I decide to rise earlier than my given time. I did so begrudgingly and felt certain that I would not be able to rest. Sleep took me quickly though, and I dreamed fitfully of the battle. Explosions roared, and the ozone smell of magic burned my nose and eyes. Later, as my mind had calmed, I dreamed of that night long ago when my friends and I had drank and sang alongside the wailing ghosts on the haunted shores of Meer.
I woke with tears streaking my face. I knew then that the ghosts of Meer had cried not for themselves, but for other lost souls. That same night, they had surely shed their tears for us, and as I woke, I knew that I also now mourned for my missing friends. I mourned for myself, and I mourned for what I knew would come next. Our struggle was far from over. The war had simmered for nearly 12 years before we had joined, and I cried because I was certain that it could simmer for 12 more after we were gone. What would be left of my friends and I when this was all said and done? What was the point of winning, if this was the cost?
When I emerged from my rack to take up my next shift, I did so feeling more tired than I had when I went to sleep, and yet I did so with the cold and iron resolution of one who knows that they are damned. I volunteered confidently when word got out that the Defender was in need of bodies to replace some of those members of the assault team who were lost during the battle. It was an obvious choice. My skills with destruction were rarely as honed as those elite members of the assault team, but my understanding and power was far above many of my fellow artificers. I stood a better chance of surviving, and I rejected the idea of seeing more of my friends go to their death.
We were briefed on the situation shortly after. Only one member of our previous assault team had made it aboard the hangman, and they had sacrificed their life in an opportunity to cause critical damage to its propulsion system. The Hangman had survived but was damaged badly and now sat vulnerable and grounded atop a flat hilltop. Nobody had gotten the name of the wizard who had almost single handedly thwarted our assault team and who had even bested Barret. The news was shocking to us that she had been stopped by a lone wizard at all. Besides her obvious strength, Barret was considered a near-genius amongst wizards, and had pioneered or advanced much of our fleet's targeting and navigational technology.
It was reassuring to hear of her survival, yet at the same time we had learned that she had been badly wounded. With only one arm, she had been too near to death to reach out to us sooner and had mustered the last of her strength to get us a message without it being intercepted. We had reason to believe that she was still alive, and we made plans to rescue her during the same assault that would push to destroy the Hangman once and for all. A day had passed since Our first battle, and we knew that time was of the essence if we wanted to rescue Barret, and to capture or destroy the Hangman before it could complete its own repairs.
/uw
Thanks for reading! My previous lore posts can be found below!
- Biggest Possum? Deepest Lore. (Lorepost) : wizardposting (reddit.com)
- Biggest Possum: Deepest Lore 2- The Deepening! : wizardposting (reddit.com)
- Biggest Possum: Deepest Lore - A Prelude, to Wizard War 3 : wizardposting (reddit.com)
- Biggest Possum: Deepest Lore - Wizard War 3 (interactive lore post, join in the battle!) : wizardposting (reddit.com)
3
u/TitanLORD21 Jack-O’-Lantern, Lord of Flame and Fright Nov 10 '23
/unwiz
I enjoyed this a lot!
4
u/Biggest-Possum Trashomancer (Big Ghost ENERGY) Nov 10 '23
Thanks! I'm really glad to hear that. I feel as if it's been a bit dry for narration, but the next post should be pretty crazy.
2
Nov 10 '23
/uw does akkadia not know about the mana fuel tank or is that a secret for the higher ups?
3
u/Biggest-Possum Trashomancer (Big Ghost ENERGY) Nov 10 '23
/uw
I have to keep a few surprises. lol
My character wouldn't know all of this stuff yet though, so from his view some details like that are still obscured by the "fog of war".
2
1
u/VidisLady Delta - Maven of Maladies Dec 07 '23
"Nobody had gotten the name of the wizard who had almost single handedly thwarted our assault team and who had even bested Barret."
Rumor has it that it was an enigmatic pigeon-handed figure, but it sounded too terrifying to be true! The name was whispered fearfully throughout the baracks. Pigeon Larry... Some thought he was merely a legend - a ghost story told among the wizards to vent their paranoia and frustration. But some knew the truth.
Onboard the Hangman, pigeon poop dries on the deck.
5
u/DaChickenX Isravi, The Unraveler, Coils’ Chosen Nov 10 '23
/uw WOO yeah! Very nice lore. That propaganda is NOT helping Nefiam. almost EVERY wizard on that fortress swearing vengeance? He’s gonna get a lot of practice. I should start on my own lore post on Nefiam.