I. Envision Invasion

Throne Wars IV: The New World

Prologue

Following his destruction of Melissan in the Abyss, the cavalier Onyx ceded the Throne of Bhaal, and the madman Cyran waged war across Amn in an effort to seize it. Onyx, his fellow heroes, and his long-lost son, the young monk Kan, led the Amnish and avariel to victory against Cyran's forces at de'Arnise Keep and Paradise City. Kan then destroyed Cyran in mortal combat and ascended the throne.

Thereafter, Faerun prospered under the victories and leadership of the heroes and the influence of the good murder-god Kan. As the tide turned against evil, the new Prince of Demons, Decagorgon, allied demonkind with tieflings and druids, and with the risen Irenicus sought to corrupt Onyx’s son Eryx. Decagorgon was slain in his Abyssal invasion of Faerun but Irenicus then led the struggling Eryx to challenge his brother Kan for the throne. On the eve of his own fall, Eryx spared Kan and vanquished Irenicus instead.

Surviving this war, Sarevok soon became Lord of the Zhentarim and seized Ust Natha from the drow while the jester Cyrex sowed murderous mayhem across Faerun as ringleader of the Circus of Chaos. Together they attacked Athkatla and were narrowly defeated, as was Cyrex in his bid for Kan’s throne.

Now, Sarevok remains Zhentil Lord and plots his next move from Ust Natha. Meanwhile, far across the ocean, evil stirs in the new world of Maztica…

I. Envision Invasion

In Athkatla’s Temple of Helm, all had departed for the night. All save one. This was Sir Anomen Delryn. He knelt at the altar, eyes closed in prayer. At his belt was his mace Silvereye whose blows saw through and dispelled the magical shields of foes. He wore, no less shining and silver, enchanted full plate on his body and his Delryn family shield over his back, and a cape adorned with the eye-and-hand tabard of Helm. But his mind was elsewhere. This High Watcher, the truest of any Helmite and one of the most powerful clerics of any ethos in the Realms, saw across the land with nearly the all-seeing vision of the Watching God himself.

His vision cast itself across Toril, and now focused far across the ocean from Amn, to a wild and untamed land of deserts and jungles. The land of Maztica, rich in wood, stone, gold, but nearly bereft of steel and the arcane. A land he knew of only from the journal of the explorer and conquistador Cordell, a land about which little was known at all.

He saw its great city of Temactitlan, a city seemingly built upon a lake, a city of sweeping bridges and canals, wide sun-bathed plazas, and majestic stepped pyramids. The people of this hot land walked about in grass, skins, beads and feathers. Primitive but fierce armies of the faithful of Qotal stood guard, consisting of feather-cloaked eagle knights and plumaweavers with bows, spears, and mace-like macas.

His vision then looked up a nearby mountain range, high but lush and covered in vegetation and waterfalls. Among them, hidden for ages, were the ruins of Chuzpatol. Within these ruins remained the banished cult of the serpentine god Zaltec, pelt-armored jaguar warriors and hishnashapers with knives, spears and spear-throwers. They were ruled by the most terrible hishna-priest of all. This was Yamash.

After ages of ravaging Chuzpatol’s environs and being fed - directly or indirectly - by enslaved traveling Mazticans, the Zaltec cultists were growing bereft of food and materials in their hideaway and hungered after the wealth of simple but prospering Maztica. Yamash was indoctrinating and preparing his barbaric horde for a full raid on its farmlands and towns and on Temactitlan. Soon they would spill down from the mountains and strike.

Anomen opened his eyes. In his heart he felt he knew what must be done. Though Helm lent him great vision, his god would bid him of nothing. He furrowed his dark brow, troubled at the Watcher’s refusal to guide and instruct him. Was this vision Helm calling him to action? Or just a look at the world around him? Had he turned his gaze to Maztica, or had it been shown to him? Now his mind turned to Onyx, his Order fellow, battlefield ally, and philosophical adversary. He had argued that the gods did intend for history to be made by the judgments and actions of mortals good and evil. He had argued that the gods lent divine influence rather than omnipotent command.

Anomen stood up tall, swept his cape back, and marched out of the temple.

***

In Zhentarim-occupied Ust Natha, troops patrolled the city and trained, human and drow slaves mined endlessly, blacksmiths mass-produced war gear, squads of soldiers escorted carts of food and supplies from Zhentarim holdings of the Underdark and the surface, and Shar priests hosted bloody ceremonies in the converted main temple.

In what had been the residence of the drow city’s first matron, Zhentil Lord Sarevok was holding a drunken fest with his generals as well as Korgan and some of his Bloodaxe clansmen. Needless to say, this party had quickly erupted in a flurry of human-dwarf racial slurs and then disintegrated into a private bar brawl. Sarevok was drunkenly swinging his fists at Korgan, who was frothing all over his own beard and punching back in a berserk frenzy.

“BURP Die, puny spittle-bearded psycho!” Sarevok roared and kicked Korgan, who was biting his arm.

“Die, ye overgrowed URP bald-headed drow-lover! Har URP har!“ Korgan yelled back as he let go and started punching again.

“IBLITH ELG’CARESS!!!!!” an angry drow woman screamed as she burst through a door. She sent terrifying necromantic energy through the air and the generals and clansmen all ran out the front doors opposite, screaming like first-day recruits. Korgan, running around in a frenzied stupor, managed to find his way out the doors and ran babbling and drunk across the city.

Mighty Sarevok, Child of Bhaal, near God of Murder, Terror of Faerun, Lord of the Black Network of the Zhentarim, was cowering behind a table, hiding from the one thing that terrified him – his lover.

Viconia walked over to him and snarled. “I resurrected you after you pitifully fell to Onyx’s weakling sons! And how to greet me for saving you from the Abyss? With a kiss or a squeeze or even a simple thanks-for-the-resurrection-o-dark-goddess-of-my-lust? Nooooooooo. Instead you show up barking at me to bring back your lackeys Korgan, Tazok, Xzar, and Edwin, and even Onyx’s old Sword Coast foe Safana as well!”

“W-We’ll need her thieving talents this time,” Sarevok gurgled.

“Are you sure those are the only talents you’re interested in, male?” Viconia scowled at her inebriated lover.

“Bah! None have a fraction of your talent, my dark maiden,” Sarevok
dismissed, finally drawing a smile the drow lady. “I’ve devised a scheme of shadowy work and it’s too much for Monty to handle alone.”

“Well maybe it’s too much for you too…you aren’t even trying to handle me!”

“I’ll BURP handle you!” Sarevok yelled and lunged toward her, hands outstretched for possibly either a strangle or a grope. Viconia grinned wickedly and puffed out both her chest and neck, but Sarevok tripped over his dropped goblet before reaching her and fell on the floor in a sprawl.

“Later perhaps, male,” Viconia sighed as she stepped over him and kicked his goblet away, “Your drinking has left you…limp. Now tell me of this plan, lest I distrust your motives.”

“Very well. Our defeat at Athkatla left me brooding – our mistake was attacking the humans! They are strong and fierce – yours truly is the definitive evidence! Ah, but the surface elves, surely we can each agree that they are pacifistic and weak. They will be unable to mount a worthy defense against the legions of the Zhentarim! We shall attack them and sack Suldanesellar and its Tree of Life!”

“…and Safana fits in because…” Viconia demanded impatiently.

“Suspecting the ancient magics those damned elves have up their sleeves, and not being so naive as to think Queen Ellisime’s spies will not discover our plan, I have planted Safana, altered to an elf maiden’s likeness, close to her in order to learn what countermeasures she may take. That trusting fool of a queen now has our neutral-aligned spy hired as her very own personal house servant!”

“Very cunning for a surfacer. Perhaps, if you can regain your composure as fast as your superhuman constitution would suggest,” Viconia smirked, breaking the latch from the nearby keg and letting the remaining booze spill unconsumed onto the floor, “you may yet find yourself worthy of my attention, male. I shall be expecting as much when I return from the midnight rituals. Do not disappoint me.”

As Viconia left for the temple of Shar, the Dark Lord of the Zhentarim sheepishly looked down at his wetted pants and scurried away to his wardrobe.

***

Muntezimo, emperor of Maztica and highest of the eagle knights, stood at the apex of the Pyramid of Qotal. He looked down in the pre-dawn light upon Temactitlan, the city rebuilt on the ruins of Nexal on the lake of Temaclac, which nearly two generations ago had been conquered by the Amnish conquistador Cordell and razed by the native Zaltecan insurgence thereafter. The young commoner Muntezimo had rallied the remaining Mazticans and led them from their scattered jungle hideaways to retake their land and rebuild their city. He was now their leader, and in some thirty years since the war, free trade had prospered among his people and they were stronger than before.

But today would be a true test of whether they had gained enough strength. His scouts had only scant days before informed him that the vanquished Zaltecans had recouped in hiding and were marching on Temactitlan at dawn - which was nigh.

His eagle knights stood in front of the city with their macas and spears brandished and upon the steps of the pyramids with their bows drawn. The plumaweavers stood among them, ready to cast their Pluma magic to strengthen the knights and blast the invaders. His wife Jacara, the Archpluma, stood by him. His plumaweaver daughter Jade stood atop the nearby Pyramid to Kiltzi.

At the edge of the nearby jungle, jaguar knights began marching out of the thick foliage onto the field that ran from the jungle to the shore of lake Temaclac. They were clad in their trademark jaguar-pelt armor and cat skull helmets, with spears in their hands and on their backs and spearthrowers strapped to their wrists. Behind them came lines of backstabbing hishnashapers, roguish casters of the dark hishna magic. At the back and center walked Yamash, archpriest of Zaltec. He was flanked by Animaul and Beastor, two gargantuan jaguar knights with beastmaster-like summoning powers.

As soon as the Zaltecan army came within range, eagle and jaguar knights began exchanging shot arrows and hurled spears. Some of the spears pierced the eagle knights’ armor and impaled them but most of the arrows bounced off the jaguar-pelt armor. As the two forces drew closer, some of the knights shapeshifted into eagles and jaguars and ran or flew at each other, beaks, fangs, claw and talons raking into flesh. Others met each other in human melee combat, macas and spears clashing against each other and seeking enemy bodies.

The plumaweavers and hishnashapers soon came within range and began casting spells at the warriors and each other. Combatants found themselves blessed and enhanced only to then be smitten with fire or vines. Plumaweavers began firing their bows at the enemies and hishnashapers made shadowy dashes through the enemy lines and began backstabbing the feathered forces. Soon they and the dashing jaguars found themselves at the city’s low stone wall. They had planned and prepared for this, however. The strong jaguar knights ran full force at the wall, pole vaulting off their spears and then shapeshifting into jaguars in midair and hooking their claws over the top of the wall, pulling themselves up and devouring the archers atop. The hishnashapers drew daggers in both hands and even expertly held them in their sandals, scaling up the wall by slipping their blades in the thin cracks between the stones.

The forces of Zaltec had soon taken control of the ramparts and were now hurling spears and spells into the city. Arrows and pluma magic sailed back from the pyramids and many went down on both the steps and the walls. The Qotalan forces were cleaned out of the bridges and streets and pushed up onto the pyramids as the aggressive Zaltecan army leapt off the walls into the city and ran about slaughtering with skill, ease, and killjoy.

Slowly, against the downhill disadvantage, the jaguar knights were claiming level after level of the step pyramids, hurling their spears up and taking out foes on the level above and managing to resist enough of the arrows and spells to keep their large numbers strong. Eagle knights shapeshifted into eagles and swooped down at them, blinding and bloodying many but eventually becoming impaled on spears or incinerated by hishna magics.

Finally the strongest and most aggressive jaguar knights had pushed their way to the second-top step of the Pyramid of Qotal. On the top level stood Muntezimo, Jacara, and the elite eagle knights and plumaweavers, killing them off rapidly with arrows and spells. But more clamored up to take their place as fast as they fell. The spears and hishna claimed the last defenders save the Emperor and the Archpluma themselves. They continued to defend the apex of the pyramid with holy valor, and more and more Zaltecans fell. At last Yamash, sneering from atop a conquered pyramid at the incompetence of his forces, lifted his hands and levitated himself and Animaul into the air. He pushed his hands forward and they floated over to the Pyramid of Qotal and landed atop it, facing Muntezimo and Jacara.

“You fool!” he sneered at the feathered emperor. “Did not the events of Cordell’s conquest and our people’s near destruction teach you anything? Only the furious path of Zaltec has the strength to save The Pure World from the next Farworlder invasion! Qotal and Zaltec must join forces against the outsiders! WE must sail east and attack THEM!”

“You are the fool, my brother,” Muntezimo responded calmly. “Have you so soon forgotten that the legionnaires of Cordell then joined with the people of Maztica against the Zaltecan insurrection that nearly brought our continent to fire and ash?”

“It was only your blind resistance to Zaltec that made it come to that!” Yamash bellowed and charged Muntezimo, dual-wielding his Viperknives. The emperor parried the weapons with his own Beakspear.

Animaul summoned a large, roaring jaguar in front of Jacara, who summoned a great eagle that flew down upon it. Animaul hurled a spear past the dueling animals, but Jacara dodged it and shot a fiery missile into Animaul’s chest. The great jaguar knight roared and leapt over the beasts with his Fangspear pointed forward, but Jacara knocked him out of the air with magical strength flowing into her Wingmacas. He braced his fall with the back end of his spear and sprung up again at her. The two circled and dueled as the animals fought. Finally the jaguar slew the eagle, breaking the bird’s neck in its clenched maw, and then leapt onto Jacara’s back and clawed through her feather cloak and deep into her bronzed flesh. Muntezimo, still dueling Yamash and now bearing several poisoning viperknife wounds of his own, turned to see his true love fall before his eyes as Animaul growled and plunged his Fangspear through her heart. Yamash laughed bitterly and began to blink rapidly, his eyelids narrowing to those of a snake.

Jade, still atop the nearby Pyramid of Kiltzi, looked across the empty air in horror as she saw the evil priest’s head shapeshift into that of a snake’s and, lashing out with a long, serpentine neck, chomp over the head of her father. Muntezimo was paralyzed as the fangs sunk deep into his chest and he dropped his spear. Yamash’s snake jaw unhinged and his mouth spread unbelievably wide, devouring Muntezimo whole. Jade fought back tears of anguish which soon turned to rage as Beastor leapt onto the apex of her pyramid, swinging his dual Clawmacas and growling. She drew her bow back and shot an arrow through his chest as he charged. He didn’t even slow down and ran at her still. She lifted her macas to parry but the Clawmacas smashed them to splinters. As he swung at her, she feigned back, turned around, and leapt off the pyramid. Before landing on the level below, she shapeshifted into an eagle and flew over to the Pyramid of Qotal. Animaul stabbed at Jade as she approached but she deftly swooped under his spear and clutched her fallen mother’s Wingmacas in her talons. Quickly gliding past Yamash’s daggers and over the top of the pyramid, she flew away from the city, crying even as a bird.