Inquisitor:
A great debate raged inside the halls of C’tis, as mighty reptilian lords attempted to sway the mind of their god.
“O Warrior against the sun! The people of Jomon have always been our honorable and valorous friends to the south! Without that border secure, the war against Pangaea would have been a great risk. Why would we throw that away?”
A dry, twisting voice answered, air forced between mummified lizard lips as Nin Dim the undead Lizard King, most honored of C’tissian dead spoke. “With all respect, Ultimately Royal One, We must look to the far future of our world; if not stopped now, Jomon will be ascendant and unstoppable. The lands to all sides will fall to them; eventually, even we.”
There was a long silence, before a commander spoke. “But their armies are vast, their coffers endless, their lands rich. Surely we risk our utter destruction by moving against them now.”
From the edge of the hall, a scout spoke up. “Even at their closest fortress to our lands, we can see they have vast numbers of deadly samurai warriors, to say nothing of their hoburg crossbo-”
Keb, transcendent and singular god of the desert land of C’tis, abruptly snapped out of his daydream. “Did you say hoburgs?”
“Err, yes, O Guide of Heroes.”
“I hate hoburgs. Let’s roll.”
And so, the call to war went out across the lands of C’tis; Sauromancer, elite guard, and peasant alike stirred to militancy. Their god had spoken…
and he hated the short folk.
Summary:
Despite no particularly hard feelings towards Jomon, the piteous cries of the southern nations have been heard, and in the interest of keeping the game interesting (and killing all those damn hoburgs I see you have, Mind Elemental), I’m coming in on the northern front.
