The Red Armada's Counterstrike
The Red Armada is not so easily beaten.
The Red Armada is composed of beings who understand the power of evil, as they have been prisoner to it for months.
They gather concentrated Darkness in their hands, clutching it lovingly, cradling it and stroking it to greater and greater power.
They enrich the Evil with Red Goo, building it's power until balls of utter blackness are formed, crackling with mauve lightning.
Concentrated evil, concentrated hate and fury incarnate, wrath and the desire to kill and destroy, formed into a physical form, held in their hands.
Then, the Red Armada counterattacks.
Hundreds, then thousands, of these balls are hurled at the Angels.
The battlefield erupts into titantic explosions, blowing thousands of holes over one hundred feet in diameter in the earth, as the concentrated evil meets the flesh of the Angels.
Now, it is the turn of the Angels to shriek in pain, and fall back.
Where they were hit, they are severely burned, and silver blood pours from the wounds, falling onto the ravaged ground.
Some of the Angels took too many hits to survive.
They collapse, silver blood spilling from their wounds, crying out in grief and sadness as their existence is forever ended.
They lay on the ground, dead, still glimmering a ghostly white color.
Until the Red Armada comes up and tramples their forms, obliterating them with massed spells of destruction, their swords stomped and broken into small pieces.
The earth trembles, and cracks appear in it, as if it is sharing the pain of the Angels, and huge earthquakes rumble through the Weave of Oerth, sending mages everywhere reeling in pain and shock.
Now, the Angels strike again with lightning and another great Cry.
They charge into the broken ranks of the enemy again, their swords now glowing like stars, their wounds regenerating, healing totally in seconds even as their foes watch.
But the Red Armada is enormous, and it's supply of Red Goo is literally endless.
There is no end to the amount of Red Goo that can be created by these Red Warriors; all they must do is simply touch the earth, and they have more.
With Red Goo, the Red Armada forges a second wave of Darkness.
Red Armada spellcasters launch titantic spells at the Angels.
An endless barrage of Meteor Swarms, Death Spells, Cones of Cold, Fireball, Magic Missile, Acid Storm, Flensing, Thrice Supreme, Breach the Beast's Defenses, Pierce Any Barrier, Lower Magic Resistance, every spell that could conceivably harm the Angels, and every conceivably combination of spells that could enable a spell to harm the Angels.
Some of these spells get through, wounding the Angels further, blasting at their bodies, tearing asunder their gauzy robes, bringing silver blood forth.
The Second Wave of Darkness hits the Angels, and the earthquake from the blasts shakes cities hundreds of miles away, and fills the sky with light of white and purple hues.
More Angels go down, injured too badly to survive, their bodies glowing beautifully in death, pools of silver blood around them.
Again, most of the Angels survive the attack, and they regenerate their wounds in seconds, and launch more lightning.
Iuz is beset. Angels ring him, their swords slashing in, moving with astonishing speed, almost impossible speed.
If Iuz was not what he was, and had not put up incredibly powerful spells of necromancy to protect himself, he would have been killed in seconds.
But he did.
Armored by spells that enable him to live despite ANY amount of damage, Iuz stands against the assault.
The Angels are powerful, but Iuz is their match, and more than their match.
Their swords pierce his flesh futilely ... chopping him in half proves impossible, and disabling him cannot be done.
Their Crys do not slow his sword.
Their lightning does not phase the Old One.
Iuz's staff, crackling with Black Necromancy, lashes out, and an Angel is caught in midriff, and blown apart in a violent explosion of purple, mauve, and blackish light.
The earth quakes again, and cracks run out in all directions from the point of the Angel's violent demise, as pieces of shining beauty fly in all directions.
The rest of the Angels, their faces stern and determined, continue to ring Iuz.
The great battle rages.
