From the Book of Foes:

“Word soon spread from the Promised Lands that the Dark Lord had predicted that Houstonus Wildcatus Nutteus would make war on the Grand Army, and wise men of the lands and great travelers and vagabonds made their way westward to see the forces of Nutteus approach.  And at the point where the Promised Lands meet the great unknown territories to the west they saw the Rebel army approach.  Troubled they were at the numbers with which the army marched, and their hearts grew even more troubled when the army drilled and they saw the strength of spirit which they possessed.  ‘We must go to the Great Saban,’ said one man, wise in the lore of the Promised Lands, ‘and tell him that the army that approaches from the Rebels’ Grove is stronger than any we have seen from there in many moons.’  And some of the learned men came to Saban, and they spake, ‘Dark Lord, we doubt not your power nor your wisdom, and we pray you smite us not, but we must tell you of the great army that approaches even as we speak.  Their victories may have been few as yet, but they possess a strength which we did not foresee.’  The wise men then cringed, expecting to bear the Dark Lord’s terrible wrath, but no fire flew from his mouth, and neither did lightning stream from his eyes, nor arrows fly from his most feared nostrils.  ‘My friends,’ spake Saban with a calmness that struck more fear in their hearts than even his rage could strike, ‘You bring me no news, for there is nothing you have told me that I do not know.  Did you hear of how they countered the great Urbanus at every turn?  Did you hear how the tears fell from the Angel Timothy’s eyes relative to the pain in which they inflicted upon him?  I have heard, and their strength I know.  I am pleased and happy that so great a foe awaits me, and I have instructed my men to do the things which have brought us to this point.’  And with this the wise mens’ minds were calmed, but a lingering fear ate still at their hearts.

And it came to pass that Nutteus did march on the promised lands, and the losses by each side were great.  But as the sun rose to the top of the sky, and the birds would have sang had the Dark Lord’s presence not sapped all joy from the Earth, the Grand Army gained the advantage and seemed to have the battle well in hand.  But Nutteus called The Exile close, and said, ‘This is one battle we must win.  Every day, the Dark Lord grows in power.  Victory must come today or never, and thus I shall use all know to defeat him.  Our fate shall be dark if we continue to march straight towards him, but we can feign retreat and I shall trick him.  His strength is great, but my cunning is greater.’  And the Rebels feigned retreat, and the Dark Lord screamed, ‘Trust them not, for Nutteus is the father of all lies and the uncle of all tricks!’  But the hearts of the Grand Army felt victory before them, and they did not heed his words.  As surely as the odor of the Eastern Wastelands pulls even the buzzards from the sky, Nutteus emptied his bag of tricks, and through his cunning his men flanked the Grand Army and drove them close to defeat.  In the struggle, The Mountain fell, and his comrades wept, and the cooks rejoiced.  One whole batallion it took to carry him off the field of battle.  But as he arrived behind friendly lines, he spake, ‘My battle is done today, but I shall return and again blot out the very sun.’  And his comrades rejoiced, and the cooks wept.

More dire grew the fortunes of the Grand Army, and Nutteus screamed with a primal rage when he saw his chance approaching.  ‘TAKE THEM NOW!’ he slobbered.  ‘Their lines are weak, and we shall trample them under foot!’ But the Dark Lord foresaw this, and he went to his defenses, and he called forth a young defender who stood as high as a tower.  ‘Youth,’ he firmly called, ‘Since the rising of the Grand Army you have fought well, but always in the middle of the fight you have been.  Today you shall step forward, aight, and you shall crush their spirits relative to their offensive onslaught falling under my foot and being trampled by my boot.’  Few battles had the youth seen, but the words of the Dark Lord gave him strength, and he flew to the front of the battle.  And the Rebels saw him, and they were upon him, but the power of the Dark Lord prevailed, and the youth stopped them where they stood.  And the Dark Lord was pleased, for he now knew the day was his.

The forces of Nutteus tried to press on, but their spirits were blackened, and in their hearts they tasted defeat where the ambrosia of victory had abounded.  And all that day did the defenses of Saban hold, and Nutteus took the remnants of his great army and journed westward again with only the signs of the Dark Lord’s wrath upon their faces.  And Saban came before his men, and he said, ‘Another lesson you have learned today, my young soliders.  I told you that trickery approached, and yet you did not heed.  I told you that your foe was great, and yet you did not heed.  I told you that you had to remember the things that brought you success in the first half of the battle and do them again in the second half if you wished to save yourselves relative to my wrath that you have now incurred, and yet you did not heed.  I have told you that you must fight the whole battle with the competitive spirit and intensity which are the very air I breathe, and you did not heed.  Learn this lesson well:  When the Dark Lord speaks, the wise man listens, and the fool pays no heed.  Fools you are not, for you are the victors, but fools shall you be if you do not heed me from this day forward, aight.’  And one of the soldiers said, ‘My Most Terrible and Vengeful Dark Lord, why must we change that which has brought us a victory?’ And Saban spake, ‘Child, the foe you faced today was great, but there are greater.  They were strong, but there are stronger.  They were ruthless, but there are more ruthless.  But I am the greatest, strongest, and most ruthless, and if you heed my words relative to doing all it takes to be a champion all victory shall follow you.’  And the soldiers listened well to this message, and they swore that they would do all they could do to satisfy the neverending hunger of the Dark Lord.

From the Book of Foes:

“In the days before the First Great Rising of the Grand Army of the Sabanic Empire, there dwelt a people cast out from the rest of the tribes, and their leader was Houstonus Wildcatus Nutteus.  And he led them for many years, but eventually his people tired of his ways, and they cast him out in favor of the great mercenary general.  Not long had he wandered in until he came upon a great warrior who was also wandering alone in the wilderness.  ‘Brave warrior,’ spake Nutteus, ‘Where is thine army?’  The warrior replied, “I have no army.  I once fought under the banner of the Single Star, but they would not give me command of my own battalion, and I became despondent.  When I complained, I was exiled.’  ‘Then follow me,’ Nutteus told him.  ‘I have no army now, but I shall not wander for long, and when I find my army, you shall lead them.’

Not many days had passed when Nutteus and The Exile came upon a camp, and the army there was in disarray.  He strode amongst them, and yelled, ‘Mighty warriors, where is your leader?’  One of their ranks stepped forward and said, ‘Our leader?  In the depths of madness he is!  We encountered many defeats, and his mind left him!  His wits stayed not between his ears, and his shirt stayed not on his chest!’ Nutteus, sensing his time was nigh, told them, ‘Then I shall lead you in spirit, and my apprentice shall lead you on the field of battle.’  And the camp rejoiced, for a leader had found them who flung not his own waste when angry.  And it was said that they marched to the southern swamplands, and there they met the Angel Timothy and Urbanus Maximus, and they prevailed against all odds.

The Great Saban heard of these deeds, and his concern was great.  ‘Disorganized have these men been,’ he told his generals.  ‘But Nutteus will bring them order.  We must crush their spirit relative to the excitement they feel relative to having a leader who is not mentally ill.’  ‘Dark Lord,’ one of the generals asked, ‘Should we march to meet them?’  ‘No,’ spake Saban.  ‘I know his heart, and I know the hatred that burns therein relative to the last time I defeated him.  He shall come to our own lands, and there shall I be pleased and happy to smite him again.’”