The First Rabbish-Crocodilic Punitive War of the Second Epoch: Almost the End of the World

classic a/n: I made this after playing The Witcher 2 and it shows.

While Mandara has never seen a single entity rule over all the land and has thus maintained a relative peace, many kingdoms do squabble in power struggles every now and then. There are many ruling bodies including human kingdoms, elven kingdoms, dwarven kingdoms, orcish kingdoms, ogre tribes, goblin kingdoms, racially integrated kingdoms, and kingdoms for the various animal peoples of Mandara. One struggle between regimes such as these turned into a bitter one-day battle that cost many lives.

In the hills of east Mandara, several days prior to The First Rabbish-Crocodilic Punitive War of the Second Epoch, Lord Rabsire of the Lagomorphian Trade Republic was in the court of the Crocodilic Kingdom, or, as the locals refer to it, Croc Town. Lord Rabsire and King Crocmaniac, the King of Croc Town, were in the middle of an annual break dancing event that was hosted to not only entertain the locals, but also to foster peace between the noble houses of the two kingdoms. This particular contest, however, would change the face of eastern Mandara forever. Just as Lord Rabsire finished a routine, he stuck the landing right on Crocmaniac's "Crikey" brand sneakers. He then unknowingly spin on that foot, scuffing Crocmaniac's kicks to the point of no return. As Lord Rabsire stood up to receive his applause, the whole courtroom was dead silent. King Crocmaniac was fuming.

"Excuse me, my good man," said the king as he tried to stifle his rage. "You did step on my sneakers during your last move and I'd very much appreciate an apology."

"I'm sorry, friend Crocmaniac, but I believe you are mistaken, for I never foul up a performance like that. My routines are always impeccable," said Lord Rabsire.

"Well, it would appear as though you choreographed that move where you scuffed my sneakers, huh?" said King Crocmaniac as he pointed to the smudge on his white, pristine Crikey sneakers. "Do you know how much these kicks cost? It took years of slave labor to mine enough gold to pay the shoe wizard to conjure up these Crikey originals!"

"Look," said Lord Rabsire as he got all in Crocmaniac's face. "I don't give a shitty shit who conjured those shoes, but I ain't paying for them cuz I ain't done nothing!"

"That's it!" shouted Crocmaniac as he took out his sparkly Michael Jackson glove, put it on, took it off, and then smacked Lord Rabsire with it. "I declare war upon your people in order to punish you for this grievous offence!"

"Fine, then," said Rabsire as he gathered his courtiers and walked out of the room. "I will see you on the battlefield!" As soon as Lord Rabsire and his court left the halls of Crocmaniac's keep, the king told his best general, Field Marshal Croczilla, instructions for their next move.

"Now, then, Field Marshal Croczilla," said the king. "Send a missive to all the forces within our kingdom to gather at the hills of Zenthor, just south of here, close to the Rabbish-Crocodilic Border. There, we will gather before we march."

"Aye, sire," said Field Marshal Croczilla as he marched quickly down the throne room and out of the keep.

"Chancellor," said the King of the Crocodiles, "find my page and tell him to bring me my armaments."

As Lord Rabsire entered his own vaulted halls, he quickly put on his kingly armor, which consisted of brushed gold plate atop iron chainmail and a helmet with a plume of teal and gold feathers. The nobles of his court followed him into his throne room and saw their leader dressed for war. They understood what it meant. One spoke up.

"Where would you like our forces, Grand Republican?" said one of the nobles.

"March them north to the castle of Vanar," said Lord Rabsire. "We will meet them there and then test the strength of our armies." The nobles all bowed before the Grand Republican of the Lagomorphian Trade Republic and left the hall. Lord Rabsire thought for a moment. "We'll see who scuffed whose sneakers now."

Several days later, King Crocmaniac and Field Marshal Croczilla looked over their army. The heavy rain gave the whole army a dreary appearance. King Croc wore his ancestral cuirass that was adorned with images of the triumphs of his people. In his hands he held a Spartan-style helmet with bright red plumage, or, at least, plumage that would be bright red were it not for all the rain. As it stood, the plumage was a gloomy maroon. The army was massive. There were at least 50,000 Crocodilemen ready to die for some allegedly scuffed sneakers. The whole army stood under the banner of King Crocmaniac's house: a white check mark on a black background with the words "Just chew it" written beneath. His whole army was dressed similarly in black armor with white accents. The soldiers bore a menagerie of weapons including flails, morning stars, longswords, bows, slings, javelins, greataxes, and mauls. They was no order or formation in their ranks and King Crocmaniac loved it.

"This is how a true army is. Raw strength and bravery will win this day as it had for our forefathers of the First Epoch when they defeated the goblin hoards during the Battle of Uthrazorfinkle," said King Crocmaniac to the field marshal.

"You should address the troops now, sire," said Field Marshal Croczilla. "They grow restless with all this waiting.

"Right," said Crocmaniac as he rode his mount, a giant albino rat, before his forces. The field quieted to a hush. "Crocodilepeople, lend me your ears!" bellowed the king proudly at his massive army as the camera panned across his army at cool angles à la Rome: Total War. "You are the finest soldiers in all of Mandara! These cowards whom we face today are so haughty, that they wish to meet us in the field before their castle. Their hubris will be their downfall this day, for we outnumber them two to one. Our people are a proud people with a history of gallantry and valor. You are true soldiers, true warriors. Who do we face? Just a bunch of bureaucrats and politicians who look down upon you as beasts. Let us show them what real beasts are! Who is with me?!" The whole army let out a raucous cheer. Many soldiers were beating their chests and shields with their weapons to psych themselves up. The whole army was hyped. Crocomaniac nodded to Croczilla and guided his mount to the head of the army.

"Troops," shouted the field marshal, "Move out!"

Meanwhile, just outside of Vanar Castle, Lord Rabsire organized his army strategically. The Lagomorphian Republican Army consisted of 25,000 soldiers kitted out with crossbows, pikes, swords, maces, and longswords. Each soldier's uniform consisted of a cuirass, which bore the insignia of the House each soldier served; a short mail skirt with leather boots; and a light helmet. The forested hills surrounding Vanar Castle proved most useful today. The Republican pikemen divisions stood in a line, creating the famous Pike Wall of the Republic, which defended many of the trade interests of the LTR throughout the First Epoch. Behind the pikes stood the sword-and-shield divisions. At the flanks of the pike wall were the steadfast macemen of the Republic. The crossbow divisions were hidden amongst the trees around the location at which the battle was to take place. Behind the swordsmen was the Grand Republican's Own Longsword Regiment, headed by Lord Rabsire himself. Beside him were his court wizard, Kelrock, and the heads of the other noble houses in his realm. Kelrock was an old rabbit dressed in gray robes.

"Are you sure that our army should fight them in the open like this?" questioned Kelrock to his liege lord.

"It matters not whether we win this battle," said the Grand Republican from at top his armored warhorse. "It only matters that we deal enough damage to them that they cannot besiege our keep immediately, thereby affording us enough time for reinforcements to arrive. Need I remind you that the chieftains of the Pantherian Hegemony have already pledged their assistance in this battle?"

"Let us hope that they make good on their promise," said the wizard. Shortly afterwards, the horns of war could be heard in the distance. Lord Rabsire raised his hand as his enemy came into view.

King Crocmaniac saw the enemy as his army passed through the forested hills surrounding Vanar Castle. He drew his dual warhammers and let out a war cry that shook the constitutions of Lord Rabsire's troops. The Crocodilic army began to charge. The earth beneath them trembled as the ravenous soldiers went into a blood rage. The Crocodilic army was closing in when Lord Rabsire dropped his hand. Suddenly, the crossbowmen positioned in the bush opened fire on Crocomaniac's men. Those that had shields attempted to block the bolts, but most who were struck by the bolts were mortally wounded. Some arrows and javelins were given to the crossbowrabbits in return, but it was not nearly as effective. Just then, some of the Crocodilic soldiers ran to the forests to combat the crossbowrabbits and avenge those who received such dishonorable deaths. The crossbowrabbits turned their focus to the crocodilemen approaching their positions as the main Crocodillic army made contact with the pike wall of the Republican soldiers. Many Crocodilemen skewered themselves on the pikes, but those that did not die immediately pulled themselves down the length of the pike in order to lay into the pikemen with their weapons. The whole Crocodilic army pressed hard into the pike wall, eventually getting past the first three ranks of pikes and beginning the slaughter of the pikemen. At this point, the swordsmen of the Republican Army pushed through what was left of the pike wall to face the head of the Crocodilic army as the Republican macemen desperately attempted to guard the flanks of the Republican pike wall to conserve what little strength it had left.

King Crocmaniac led the charge. As his army made contact, his rat mount was skewered on the Republican pikes. He jumped off of his mount, hammers in hand, and Naruto-walked on the tips of the pikes all the way up the pike wall. He then slid down one and crushed a pikeman's skull as he landed on it. Crocmaniac let his hammers fly, smashing many ribcages, legs, arms, and skulls to smithereens as he and his troops were ruthlessly slaying their rabbit foes. Blood quickly began to coat the muddy field as crocman and rabbitman alike killed one another on this dark, rainy day. The Republican swordsmen pushed through the lines to support the ever weakening pike wall. King Croc raised both hammers and brought them down on the shield of the first swordsrabbit he saw. The force of the blow deformed the rabbit soldier's shield and caused the rabbit soldier's body to crumple into a heap as he fell into the slurry of mud and viscera. Many of his bones were broken in the blow. As King Crocomaniac finished him, he saw, beyond the swordsrabbits, Lord Rabsire and his Royal Longswords approaching the battle.

Lord Rabsire dismounted and drew his claymore before he charged into the fray. He made contact with the wall of carnage and let loose his fury. One crocodileman officer swung his morningstar into the shield of a swordsrabbit, crushing it instantly and sending him to the ground. Rabsire approached and cut off the crocodileman's weapon arm with his claymore. Still in a blood rage, the crocman swung his shield, but this was, on the whole, futile. Rabsire cleaved the crocman's head in two, spilling brains and blood all over. Lord Rabsire picked up the swordsrabbit and yelled at him to keep fighting. As the shocked soldier ran into a crocodilian axeman, he was promptly beheaded. Disheartened with the bloodbath that surrounded him, he shouted "Retreat!" and ran with his men back towards Vanar keep. Just as retreat was called, the two groups of crocodilemen just finished killing the rest of the crossbowrabbits and began running towards the keep. The last of Lord Rabsire's troops passed through the gatehouse and the massive gate was dropped, sealing the keep. Rabsire removed his blood-covered cuirass and sat down as he saw his injured, bloody, and wet troops mill about the keep.

A raucous cheer was let loose by the crocodilian army. Warriors raised their weapons in the air. All were wildly shouting, thanking their forefathers for guiding their weapons through this battle. As King Crocmaniac walked solemnly across the muddy field of death, the cheering quieted until all was silent save for the rumblings within Vanar Castle and the rain that pelted the troops. Their morose king knelt down to the corpse of Field Marshal Croczilla, his face barely recognizable as his head was cloven in two. With tears in his eyes, he let out a crocodile hiss that his entire army mirrored. As the hissing stopped, the mournful king shouted at the castle.

"Rabsire!" he shouted. "Rabsire! Your death awaits you outside of these walls!" King Crocmaniac lifted the body of his finest general and took it to the site where his army had begun building a siege camp.

Rabsire ran through the crowded streets of the Vanar castle-town in search of Kelrock. The stench of death hung over the town like a wet blanket. The people of the town were clamoring in the streets. Some had lost all hope and jumped from the castellation of the walls to their deaths. At last, Rabsire called a town meeting. With everyone supposedly in attendance, Rabsire finally saw his court warlock amongst the crowd.

"This is a trying time for our people," said the Grand Republican to his fellow countrymen. "We have lost at least 15,000 soldiers in the battle with an additional 5,000 casualties that were brought within these walls. Those of us who are able to defend the walls may not be willing, for it would seem that the odds are against us. We must not fear, however, for we have Kelrock on our side." The whole audience looked at the small robed figure in the crowd. "Friend, is the spell ready?"

"Yes, sire," said the warlock as the audience parted to allow the tiny form towards Rabsire's platform. "Everything is set. I need only the word from you, sire."

"That is good," said Lord Rabsire.

Outside of the castle-town, ladders had been prepared to assault the walls. The Crocodilian woodsmen had managed to create a battering ram. Crocodilian technicians had rigged the enemy crossbows to launch fire bolts. The city was set to fall to Crocmaniac's forces. Captain Croclance approached King Crocmaniac, who was, at present, praying at the special grave prepared for the fallen field marshal. Before the captain could speak, the king uttered words in the voice of a broken man.

"How many more have fallen with their valiant general?"

"At least 30,000, most of whom were either killed in the attacks of the crossbow squads or suffered fatal wounds on the enemy's pikes," said the captain.

"How many more will yet die before our fallen are avenged?"

"We can take the castle. They have no ranged troops, so any fighting will be in the honorable way, my king, and in that, we are unparalleled. Their pikes will be of no use to them within the walls. It will be a slaughter."

"Very well then," said the king as he rose and put on his helmet, coated in the blood of the fallen field marshal. "Let our ancestors be with us."

As dusk fell that day, the drums of war were once again beaten as the war horn announced the beginning of the end for the rabbitpeople within the walls. Rabsire stood at the parapets of the keep and shouted to the Crocodilemen below.

"Turn back now, Crocomaniac," said Rabsire, "lest the unspeakable be unleashed upon you and your men."

"We are ready to send either you or ourselves to meet the ancestors," proclaimed the king solemnly.

"As you wish," said Rabsire as he retreated down the walls. The ladders were placed. The battering ram began to beat down the gate. The crocs seized the walls and gatehouse with, surprisingly, no resistance. The entire Crocodilian Army entered the town of Vanar when they saw it: a massive, blue swirling orb of magical energy at the center of town. As King Crocmaniac ordered his army to hold, a massive, 60-foot-tall red demon pulled itself out of the portal. The demon had a spider body with four long tentacles for arms and a mosquito’s head with two long horns. “Behold,” shouted the rabbit lord, “the forbidden spell of summoning Carl, the Great Horned Daemon!” Carl let out a horrific screech that sent the rabbit villagers running. The beast began killing indiscriminately, seeming to not be aligned with either side. Rabsire turned to the Kelrock, who laughed maniacally.

“With Carl unleashed, all of Mandara will kneel before me!” shouted the wizard as he commanded the beast to kill everything in sight. Horror flashed on the faces of all of the battle-hardened warriors present. It was in that moment that King Crocmaniac locked eyes with Lord Rabsire. They knew what had to be done. Lord Rabsire quickly turned to his men.

“Soldiers of the Grand Republic, steel yourselves, for we must now bring down this great beast. We do this for our families, for our children, for our people, and for all of Mandara!” King Crocmaniac gave a similar speech to his men.

“The gods have decided that these rabbitpeople are no longer our enemy,” yelled the king to his troops. “Now we face a much greater threat that has the power to destroy all of Mandara.”

“Not if we can help it, my lord!” shouted back one of the soldiers. The army then let out a cheer in response.

“That’s what I like to hear! Now, onward, brothers, to glory!” shouted the king as he raised his warhammers in the air. The whole army let out a bellowing war cry and charged at the beast. All the soldiers attacked the beast’s spider legs, but to no effect. Some tried to climb the slick exoskeleton of the legs but most failed and were promptly skewered as the demon stepped on them. It them spewed napalm from its mosquito mouth that stuck to some soldiers and burned them to death in spite of the awful weather. Lord Rabsire’s men had aimed a ballista at the beast. King Crocmaniac pushed his way through the crowd, careful to avoid any stray napalm blasts, and jumped onto the bolt. He swung his hammer to hit the lever and launched himself at the beast. The bolt pierced the beast’s spider carapace and its demon blood sprayed all over the town. King Crocmaniac leapt from the bolt to the top of the spider body and smashed his warhammers against it, but the exoskeleton was too tough. It seemed as though all hope was lost. Nothing they were doing was working and people were died by the hundreds. Suddenly a rabbit soldier cried out.

“Reinforcements!” A group of Lionmen, tigermen, and jaguarmen flew giant eagles that were all together holding a massive boulder. The pantherpeople looked down at the dismal scene below and reasoned that the big red thing was to be dealt with first. They all flew over the beast and cut the ropes tethering their birds to the rock. It fell and fell and fell. The rock connected with the exoskeleton of the beast and the demon collapsed beneath its weight, the whole spider body was crushed to gore. King Crocmaniac then ran up the beasts back and brought his hammers down on the demon’s head, crushing his way into its skull. He then beat at everything he could and burst forth from the demon’s mosquito face covered in gore and blood. The beast was dead. Every soldier in that castle let out a loud and triumphant cheer. The King looked over to Lord Rabsire. The two exchanged a thumbs up. Rabsire then looked at Kelrock, the traitor.

“Hey man, I was just playing!” he said. Rabsire then stabbed the wizard in the gut and split him in half vertically. It was done. The traitor was killed and the Crocodiles and Rabbits learned the value of friendship.

A truce between the two peoples would be drafted later that day, citing the traditions of a white peace: no land ceded, a zero-sum agreement. King Crocmaniac would later fund rebuilding efforts