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Jwolaroth'ruk, O'Ma's Menagerie

The elite strike force, unknown to most in the main assault, did not start by fighting their way to the flank of the Voivode's forces. First, they had an assassin to deal with, one who could not be seen, nor heard, who struck swiftly and assassinated one officer after another.

The strike force arrived on the scene of the most recent assassination to find a body oozing black venom. Well-trained M'Chek soldiers were present, as were Le'Nofaythen who are known for being able to track and hunt any enemy, yet none among them could find this assassin... the same one who killed Walsington.

An Elysian stood among the strike force, wearing bright red and white armor... quite unusual for him. The armor bore markings of old elven works, a suit given to him by Elenor long ago. But the armor would not remain in this form for long. His body crawled and distorted, his legs splitting twice, then again, into arachnid-like appendages. Runes burned into his quickly growing carapace, unlocking saemilist powers. He reasoned that if a shaahesk could make itself unseen, and unheard... it was still a lizard, and so was still bound to walk upon the ground. It could erase its light and its noise, but not its weight.

The O'Man Tlincali began tapping out a sequenced rhythm on the ground, alternating between its six legs to sense any movement. Eventually, one of the assassins moved close enough to it for it to feel its weight pressing down on the earth, causing vibrations... and that was all he needed. The tlincali began unleashing arcane energy at the locations where he felt movement, cluing in the others on where to strike. Unfortunately, this assassin was not the one they sought. Though strong, he was no Dra'kho.

When the real threat arrived, the tlincali again made his position known to the rest of the strike team. The assassin of Walshington would not allow a sentinel like that to continue locating him. He charged Jwolaroth'ruk to strike him down. But this, the tlincali had planned on, as in the act of striking him down, Dra'kho revealed his position in plain sight. The assassin was instantly set upon by the strike force along with the 3rd M'Chek brigade, and some of the northern and eastern Le'Nofaythen. The onslaught was strong enough that it forced the assassin, wounded and weakened, to flee from the battlefield. The tlincali, now again a half-elf, was healed by his allies so he might rejoin the fight, though a large gash now crossed his armor, and he appeared weaker for it.

But not too weak to fight. As the strike force made it's move, only then did his real strength show, as he took forms of an ancient wyrm, a mithril golem, and even a baelnorn, attempting to capitalize on the fact that the lizards were not trained to fight such creatures. However, if you ask him what happened during the push itself, you would be hard-pressed to get an answer. His memory of it was blurred by the pain of the assassin before, the weariness of the long battles ahead, and the constant struggle not to lose himself to vengeance and instinct. He recalls disjointed images. Bathing hundreds of shaheesk in acid and ice. Extreme pain. Clawing and tearing. A limestone dragon. But none of this makes for a coherent chain of events. No, the rest of the battle would have to be someone else's tale to tell.

[[Category:Books |Jwolaroth'ruk, O'Ma's Menagerie]]