The Epic Campaign

The Elf King Ravaged

The King of Summer Takes a Fall

While I did not bear witness to the magnificence of our lord Ruz, the tale of his victory over the king of the Argothan elves cannot go untold. Through reports told to me by the servant of his exalted presence, Sotark, I have fashioned a fantastic telling of the events that have so recently transpired. I assure you that Sotark is incapable of lying, and the following is an accurate retelling of the events related to me by him, with very little in the way of embellishment of dramatic flourish.

Lady Hall, of the newly formed kingdom of Argotha—as created by his eminence—was in dire straits. The elvish king, known as the King of Summer, was leading his rebel army against her with a superior military strategy. In a matter of days, the new kingdom would have been overrun by elven invaders, with men and children put to the sword and women being raped by the vile beasts. Things were bleak and moral was failing. Her new kingdom was about to fall, and lady Hall was incapable of preventing it.

The lord Ruz, being the beneficent leader that he is, saw fit to go to the aid of our ailing sister state. E’en though he could certainly not be held responsible for the failings of the new leadership since his emancipation of the realm, our great lord felt it necessary to step in and protect his investment in the fledging realm and its people. His majesty, no doubt countless steps ahead of the savage elf king, had a plan the likes of which had never been seen. It was a plan both cunning and daring, a plan that would endanger the very life of our noble king. But the lord Ruz is never above personal danger when so much is at stake.

Standing between lord Ruz and the elvish king was a vast army of elves, cowardly hiding amongst the boughs of the forest, using arrows to attack from a safe distance and then run before they could be punished for their impudence. For weeks these elves had harried the lady Hall’s men, bringing them almost to the brink of destruction. To defeat such timidity lord Ruz took the elves head on. Leading a column of fifty Legionaires, he charged through the forest, heedless of the numerous foes surrounding him and the countless arrows engulfing his forces. E’en though many of the Legion fell beneath those arrows, lord Ruz, revealing a touch of the divine presence that no doubt inhabits his mortal form, won through to the enemy encampment unscathed.

Here, in the very heart of the elves last bastion, resided the King of Summer, a vile beast more fiend than man, a monstrosity that could scarcely be called “king”. This philistine sought to disguise himself from our holy ruler, placing his mongrel son in regal vestments as a distraction. While the lesser beings that had accompanied our divine monarch were fooled by this obvious ploy, his greatness was not deceived by so rudimentary a ploy.

Lord Ruz took the battle directly to the King of Summer, trading blow for blow and giving far better than he received, while brazenly ignoring the strikes—attempts to strike his rapturous personage by the elvish king’s half-wit guardians. Shaking off wounds that would have staved in a lesser man’s skull, and yet still finding the time to deliver orders and encouragement to his remaining troops still battling the elvish hoard, the transcendent being that we daily worship took the life from the elvish monstrosity, cutting the head from the serpent as it were. Not one to give an enemy time to recover and strike again, he then had the Legion put all of the remaining elves, those foolish enough to surrender, to the sword that the threat would be laid to rest forevermore.

With the elves vanquished, the Argothan people bowed down before the lord Ruz, begging—nay pleading with him to reclaim his rightful place as their king, that they too might benefit from his ambrosial wisdom. Humbly, our hallowed king declined their earnest entreaty, reassuring them that he had made the best decision possible in appointing lady Hall to watch over their daily lives, and reminding them that he would always be watching, his omnipotent gaze always encompassing them, and his majestic manifestation never far from them. His mission accomplished, and his legend emboldened, the lord Ruz returned triumphant to the halls of his sublime palace, where he resumed the dispensation of his supreme will, leading we the people of four mile island ever toward glory and jubilation.

Now all heads bow in reverence of our blessed lord. Let no ill word be spoken against him. May his enemies tremble with fear at his approach and fall upon his righteous blade. Long live lord Ruz.



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