Resorting to Inhuman-Wave Tactics

The best of my troops-my main fighters, hand an advantage not only in raw might compared to the most feeble of mine, but in mobility as well. Even disregarding the obvious examples of my units who's primary advantage is mobility, even the armored insects that made up the main **** simply lumbered forward ahead on longer legs than the kobolds and myconids. This, combined with relative lack of a proper formation, meant that my unit was very front-heavy. So one might think that getting hit from behind would have been a horrible thing-many of my forces falling against superior heavy infantry. And in the latter aspect, one would be correct. Except for one thing: That was their job now. Before, they were logistics workers. Now, they were chaff to distract the enemy while my more useful troops turned to counterattack, an ablative layer to blunt an initial charge.

Frankly, I cared less for them than I did for the enemy I was up against. My enemy had life stories-each corpse of there's was a final bloody chapter ghost-written by my pseudopod. My spawn, frankly, lacked such to care-less than two weeks around, nasty, brutish, and short would be their lives. Living ammunition from a lustful factory. This is all the better exemplified by how I make use of my spawn while my forces wheel around. Dropping my Rootborn Defence , and even rooting myself down, trying to wring any little bit of extra man regen I can. My tentacles wriggle to create components of spells, causing the Seeds I had planted among them to pulse with necromantic energy. And so, my fallen rise again, to serve me a second time-this time, with perfect coordination and morale.

Of course, they rise while being stepped over, and not in particular good condition. A lot of them can't do a lot more than grab and claw at the enemy's shin-before being disposed of for the second time. Or the third time, as the case occasionally was before they were destroyed too badly to count as a corpse that could be brought back. Of course, that was all they have to do. They were not to kill-hit to prepare them for others, disrupt a formation. A few seconds of immobility in one soldier those by his side are not facing causes their march's pace to interrupted, their group losing cohesion and stumbling over undead speed bumps. Hit and runs from flyers and teleporters only exasperated this-figures suddenly appearing from the dark to abduct a soldier and dropping them within the main unit of my forces, leaving to very prompt deaths on their part. A uniform march became a loose advance turned intro a **** countercharge which devolved into a frenzied melee.

One that I had to largely sit out of-both because of my very annoying divine oath, and on account that I was one metaphorical foot in the grave. Despite going up two levels for that spell in the process, this kind of mass-animation was very costly-so much that I had to dip into my health reserves in order to fuel it, only stopping when it looked like they would complicate the fight in a way that wouldn't definitely be in our favor. **** to sit out and recover, there was a main question gnawing at me: