[centre][h2]The Kings of Ousolu[/h2]
[h3]The Abyssal Templars and the Chief of Chiefs[/h3][/centre]
[hr]
It had been a little over a year now since the Earthen King had broken off the first stone and carved within it a rune to bind a spirit to it, creating the first stonemen - the golems. As He had thrown them to all winds, the Vein of Kraang had flown south - as far as south goes, they said - and ended up on the Ousolus, the chain of islands between Orsus and Terminus that rose and sank with the seasons like the pistons of an Astusian machine. Here, the progenitor of the Vein, Kraang-Shur, had settled on the island of Shyoht-Voli - “Voligan’s castle” - and started constructing fortifications in preparation for the inevitable Yesarian invasion of Orsus to the east from the distant hive lands in the west.

He knew that he could not do it alone, however; the island was large and a single golem could hardly stand against the endless tide of the Hive. So Kraang-Shur got to constructing his fellow guardians. However, the construction took time for Kraang-Shur, and the Shyoht-Voli was an island nearly devoid of exposed and easily accessible rock. This puzzled the stoneshapen Shur, for Shur had only ever known the feel and texture of the mountain he had been spawned from, and as Shur thought the conundrum over, the season had passed and the island of Shyoht-Voli had descended into the depths. Here, light faded into nothing, and the golem was visited upon by many more than just curious birds: Here, fish, cepholopods, mollusks, mammals and seaplants all took time to say hello, taking up refuge all around Shur’s body. At first the golem had felt exposed and naked before so many prying eyes, but as his days of labour began to number tens and even hundreds, he eventually grew to appreciate his new inhabitants. In his solitude, he even named them and made up stories for them to share with their egg clutches.

There was Tef, the nudibranch who had settled in the stone shelves that had approximated themselves into a humpbacked spine at his inception; the Kras, a family of oysters who had filled out his shoulders like a mantle of grayish fur; “the Rash”, an armour of barnacles running down his right arm and leg; and all the seaweed and algae that had greened his whole body, collectively called “the Coat”. Tef was his favourite, a knight of snailkind, aspiring to the same greatness as its house, the golem. One day, the two of them would drown the Hivemind Horde in the ocean.

Given the nature of his microbiome now, Shur chose to remain in the ocean even after Shyoht-Voli rose back up. At first, he lingered around the root of the island, moving between the shore and the depths collecting material to expand his vein: His would be an order of seaborne templars, sworn in the name of the Earthfather to fend off the evil brewing in the southwest. Shur collected rock and stone, shell and barnacle; he gathered mud and slime, bones and cartilage. With these reagents, he fashioned the first of his order: [url=https://64.media.tumblr.com/0cb7ee71d88c354e85174b22078f0408/tumblr_ohati3ciJx1v9qvuco2_1280.jpg]Kraang-Trax[/url]. The rune of awakening was carved into the eye of the crustacean giant and the coral-clad warrior awakened to blink at her creator.

“Hail, Kraang-Shur, progenitor of the Vein,” she saluted and bowed.

“Hail, Kraang-Trax, first to be shapen. How are you feeling?”

The crab-like giant moved her limbs slowly, sand and mud diluting into the water around her joints. They seemed agile, powerful, and her crossed eye looked back up at her maker. “I sense strength within my body. My parts lack nothing and I am satisfied. Tell me, master: What is my purpose?”

Shur bowed his head. “To the far west, our enemy gathers its strength. Help me build up our army and together, we shall bring pride and glory to the Earthen King.”

Trax bowed her form downwards and said, “As you wish, my lord.”

[hr]

[i]Many years later, on one of the islands of the Ousolu…[/i]

It had been a rough day in the court of Kekoa Kekoa’e Ali’i Nui, the chief of chiefs of the Takahanga Kingdom. The chieftain of Motu Ikaika, Tane Peni’e Kaukau Ali’i’s son, Moana Tane’e Ali’i’e, had gotten into a bloody fight with the son of the chieftain of Motu Iti, Keanu Anaru’e Ali’i’e, and slain him in the violence. Now the Motu Iti chieftain demanded blood money for the actions of the Motu Ikaika chieftain’s son - a life for a life, as the custom was. Tane was having none of this, and the two had sailed all the way to Kekoa’s summer home on Motu Ra-Roa, the most beautiful island to rise out of the ocean in the hotter months. For a week, the two had filled his hall with their bickering, and it did not help that they had brought their families along, who only egged them on from the back. More than once he had had to stop them from drawing weapons and clubbing each other to death. 

By all means, the law sided with the Motu Iti chieftain - Moana had killed Keanu and was thus to himself be killed. However, the king had been hesitant - very hesitant. The Motu Ikaika chieftain was his cousin and brother-in-law, and very, very rich. Without the constant stream of wood for boats and coral for weapons from the islands Motu Ikaika and Motu Pohatu - both under Tane’s jurisdiction - Kekoa could kiss his throne goodbye. His whole realm rested on the high chief’s ability to send his warriors to any island in his realm to quell unrest; for that, he needed boats fashioned from Pohatuan palms and weapons from Ikaikan coral. His very flagship, the Ma’man, had been a gift from Tane when he had married the high chief’s sister. No wood for ships? No coral weapons? No Takahanga Kingdom.

Kekoa gnawed his knuckle to the bone cursing himself for not being able to abide by the law, the law of his father Kekoa. His other courtiers grew increasingly impatient; they understood perfectly fine why the king delayed, but they all warned that to break the law was taboo, especially for a king, and would bring grave detriment to his [i]man’ah[/i]. Should he side with the injured party, he would lose his kingdom; should he side with his cousin, he would lose his mandate. The Ali’i Nui had not had a wink of sleep for two days - such did the conflict bother him.

On the seventh day, the king called together his court and summoned both chiefs to his audience. Truth be told, he was not certain whether he had truly reached a decision or if any decision would be better than a heart attack at this point. Kekoa gathered the men on the floor before his throne and took a deep breath.

“I have prayed and prayed… For days now… That this feud may come to an end. In Their light, I have reached a decision…” But as he raised his hand to point to the party in the right, a guard shoved aside the bamboo leaf curtain covering the door. 

“My chiefs!” panted the guard. One of the courtiers gasped.

“My king! The peasant has broken the taboo and entered into our holy hall!”

“Maui, you daft slug, can you not see he bears a message?!” the king chastised. “Speak your message, guardsman.”

The guard swallowed and swiftly relayed the message, careful not to look directly at the king. “A grave terror has struck our shores, O Son of Gods: a raider horde! Hundreds! Many hundreds! They will be here within the hour!”

All around the hall, the chieftains’ reactions differed wildly: Some took to arms and charged out the doorway; some hastened to pack their belongings and run out the doorway and away from the battle; and most remained to await the king’s orders. The king’s brow darkened, but within him burned a small flicker of relief - yes! An outside enemy to draw the focus away from the blood feud. He got out of his throne, grabbed his trusty club and stormed towards the door, his courtiers flanking in behind him. 

But then a hand grabbed his and thee king looked down. It was the chief of Motu Iti, the injured party, who glared him in the eyes and said, “My king! We still have business to settle here!”

Kekoa’s inner flame flared up further with wicked victory. Just what he needed. He summoned forth his deepest, cruelest voice and scowled so that his facial tattoos gave his face a demonic shadow. The Motu Iti chief blinked in fright and loosened his grip, but the king took his hand and squeezed it with cowering strength. “U’ilani, you selfish, little snake!” The chief shrunk two sizes. “That you would use your son’s death to sate your own prideful sense of vengeance, I can just barely sympathise with, but then… But. Then. You have the audacity, the INSOLENCE, to claim that -YOUR- selfish cause outranks the safety - the lifes - of -MY- subjects, who are now being slaughtered on the beach head while we bicker because of -YOU-!” The king slapped the chief to the ground and wiped his hand on his feather regalia. “I denounce your egotistical sense of self-righteousness, you filthy rat. Consider your case annulled!” The king then stormed out. The chief, broken on his knees, looked up in search of support; none could be found. It had been a battle of mandates and the king had won squarely: The king was the gods’ son, born forth from the union of the deepest sea and the highest sky to protect the people of Takahanga, and a petty squabble over who killed who did not even come close to the top of the gods’ sons priority list. A lowly vassal like the Motu Iti chieftain stood no chance. 

King Kekoa walked out on a highrise overlooking the beach. As the guard had said, much of the village was in danger of being attacked any moment - black ships had made landfall further up on the island, and a slobbering, rambling horde was charging towards the fleeing populace. The first line of defense had already been consumed by the horde, and the chiefs who had been the first to charge out of the king’s hut were helping with the evacuation and commanding the second line of defense, firing them up by leading a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI851yJUQQw]war dance[/url]. They roared like wild beasts and [url=https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EEkio1mWkAAd6SJ.jpg]bared their teeth and tongues[/url] before throwing themselves at the enemy, black beard braids flying everywhere together with clubs and hammers fashioned from coral, wood, teeth and bone. Even a blind dwarf could see that this was a lost battle, however, and not even the earthen skin of the Takahanga dwarves could stand against a tide of monsters numbering in the several hundreds. The king’s face remained dark as he scouted the area, trying to think of a plan.

“... Take the women and children to the ships on the southern part of the island. I will take whatever meat and fish we have stored in the village and lure the hiveminders to the north.” He took Tane by the shoulder. “You will take my sister, my wife and my son to my ship and be ready at a moment’s notice to get off the island. If I am not back by the time the horde has made it within eyeshot, leave without me.”

The king’s cousin hardened his expression, but nodded and stormed off with half the courtiers. The king remained with the other half and then roared, “Well, you heard me! Let’s get going!” The king led his dwarves to the village and raided the food stores for anything the mutants could find interesting. Then, they ran past the horde, around the island, and drew some outliers after them. Then the rest of the horde slowly began to turn as the sun really got to induce the stink of rot in the fish and meat. That was proper food for a hiveminder. Meanwhile, the second line of defense retreated and picked off some outliers on the way. 

However, as time went on, it became increasingly clear that the horde was not so stupid as to let the king and his men simply circumvent them. One hiveminder was foolish, but the whole flock formed a fairly tactical consciousness together - they were in fact trying to trap the king. This dawned on the royal party much too late - they had by that point been pushed to the beachhead, and it was the wrong beachhead. No ship laid in waiting for them here. The king initiated a war dance and his party followed fearlessly, but the horde was not dissuaded. They closest in with a macabre slowness that only inspired fear in the dwarves - their voices grew smaller and their gestures lost their wild tempers. Even the king’s inner flame, so empowered as it was by his [i]man’ah[/i] grew too small to sustain his stoic demeanour. He whispered softly a prayer for his wife and son as the beasts closed in.

Then, as a godsent miracle, the waters off the beach burst into a flood of salt and foam. The horde and the dwarves were equally baffled, and what stood in place of the water when the foam disappeared inspired fear in both parties. There stood six giants of all sizes - only common description being that they were, indeed, giant: they were of stone, of coral, of bone, of kelp, of teeth and of magic. Neither the dwarves nor the horde had time to reach before the six thundered in over the beach, passed over the dwarves, and started decimating the hivemind horde. Fists barbed with barnacles and spears fashioned from volcanic vents utterly destroyed the biotic horde, soaking the entire beach in blood and gore. The dwarves huddled together in shock and awe - neither stoicism nor bravery could even begin to create a facade in the face of something this sublime.

After the destruction had passed, the six giants formed a crescent around the pile of dwarves. The most stone-like of the giants stepped into the crescent and knelt down beside the heap. In a voice like an earthquake, it spoke in a language that seemed almost instinctively known to the dwarves - the language of the earth itself.

“Hail, brothers, fellow sons of the Earthen King.”

The dwarves untied their huddled knot and let their eyes glaze over in awe. Even the king had no response. The golem continued. “You were lucky that we were here. The spawn of Yesaris may not be much of a threat when it is one-on-one, but a horde like this would have consumed you to the last patch of skin.”

Finally, the king mustered up the courage and [i]man’ah[/i] to reply and asked, “Who, who are you, exalted sons of the Stonelord?”

The golem seemed to almost grin at the little dwarf, and the Abyssal Templars presented themselves as such: [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/edac9d2b-74dc-41a2-8f6b-29e3d2dbefa5/d6y8dyv-3775e9f0-7d51-46b5-b95c-5058f7c05167.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2VkYWM5ZDJiLTc0ZGMtNDFhMi04ZjZiLTI5ZTNkMmRiZWZhNVwvZDZ5OGR5di0zNzc1ZTlmMC03ZDUxLTQ2YjUtYjk1Yy01MDU4ZjdjMDUxNjcuanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.x2TlSukXCdp8E48QBpNIea7Y6BVgWGP1R5P-HqX4dV4]Kraang-Shur the Progenitor[/url]; [url=https://64.media.tumblr.com/0cb7ee71d88c354e85174b22078f0408/tumblr_ohati3ciJx1v9qvuco2_1280.jpg]Kraang-Trax Tideshield[/url]; [url=https://cafans.b-cdn.net/images/Category_107321/subcat_166728/yzDAUfuv_1105151655091.jpg]Kraang-Hrel the Living Armour[/url]; [url=https://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/11133/111332669/6114832-fadf0af29a2931cdca8f3a68cdefe0a9--dark-gothic-art-fantasy-creatures.jpg]Kraang-Fram the Brave[/url]; [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4f/7f/6d/4f7f6da71b5f876ba6143331e4482f0f.jpg]Kraang-Droz the Pious[/url]; and [url=https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/covers/images/001/035/534/large/ibrahem-swaid-blue-colossus-l.jpg?1438689933]Kraang-Laksh the Tall[/url]. The golem bowed and the dwarves returned the gesture. The king and his courtiers then presented themselves, and it was as though twins who had been separated at birth had come together again. For saving his life, the king promised the Progenitor his favour, and the Progenitor promised the king his loyalty as a fellow subject of the Earthen King. Together, the dwarves on land and the golems in the sea, would create a united front against the wicked spawn of Yesaris, ruling their two realms as the Kings of Ousolu.

[hider=Summaree!]
Some years have passed since Voligan made the dwarves and the golems. A golem named Kraang-Shur lands in the southern island chain named Ousolu and starts building companions. However, the islands rise and sink, and soon Shur realises that life is better down where it’s wetter. He makes a companion of corals and names her Kraang-Trax. The Kraangs vow to fight all spawn of Yesaris that may try to make its way to Orsus by using the island chain.

Skip to the island dwarf kingdom of Takahanga where king Kekoa struggles with politics at his court. Two chiefs have gotten into a blood feud and the one who’s in the wrong, Tane, is super rich and essential to Kekoa holding the realm together. Luckily, the chaos is interrupted by more chaos in the form of a Yesarian horde invasion! Yay! The dwarves get ready to fight, but it’s an unwinnable fight, honestly. So the king tries to make a distraction by luring the horde away with meat. The horde isn’t actually that dumb, though, and instead outplays the king and traps him on the beachhead without a get-away boat. When all hope has faded, the Kraangvengers pop out of the sea deus ex-machina style and wreck the zombies. The golems and dwarves meet and forge an alliance against Yesaris. Try invading now, parasite bitch!
[/hider]