From the Book of the Process:

“As it was written in the Book of Foes, The Vile One felt much fear in his heart when he learned of the coming approach of the Grand Army of the Sabanic Republic.  Years before, when his deeds were still praised by his peoples and his armor still needed not extra rivets to contain his immensity, he had sent his spies to the Promised Lands, and he had told them, ‘Though our victories over these people have come easily of late, in that land lies a power waiting to be awoken.  Voices in my dreams have told me that there be a Dark Lord in the wilderness who will one day approach and raise this power anew, and they must be utterly destroyed so that this might never come to pass.’  And idly by did the peoples of the Promised Lands wait, and well did the spies of the Vile One do their deeds, and the Promised Lands were cast into darkness for many years, and the Vile One thought his task to be successful.

Even though the days were dark, oracles of the land whispered softly the tidings which few in the Promised Lands believed.  Terrible had the wrath of the Vile one been, and thoroughly had their spirits been squashed by the mammoth hindparts of that most despicable villain.  But that power which even he sensed, the oracles said, still remained.  ‘It shall never be extinguished,’ they said.  ‘But until the coming of the Dark Lord, it shall be but a twinkle in the eyes of those who had ages ago seen it themselves, and though its fire shall burn ever on, it shall be no more than a spark until the Great One comes.’

And it came to pass that the Dark Lord did come, in those times when the Promised Lands seemed most utterly vanquished, and soon did the people there tell him of the crimes the Vile One had committed against them.  And in the time leading up to the Siege of the Vile One he told all his people, ‘Fear not, for one who has committed a crime against you in times past has now committed a crime against me in the present.’  And when the people saw the Army which had been raised to lay waste to the Vile Mountains, they knew his words were true.

And the Grand Army marched on the Vile Mountains, and to their surprise the eldest battleground was surrounded by great multitudes of those whose robes were bathed in the Crimson of the Grand Army’s armor.  ‘Look around you, young men,’ the Great Saban told his men.  ‘When last you marched in these lands, the people of these mountains donned the colors of the Vile One and they came to see you destroyed.  Now our own people have come to see you do the same, and those that once came to see your doom have not the courage to come see your victory.  You shall prove them wise, relative to their decision to not stand in my path.’  And with this their hearts were made full, and their bodies thirsted for battle.

Many wise men told the masses that The Dark Lord had much to fear.  ‘The Vile One will be prepared,’ they said.  But the Dark Lord had prepared also, and his cunning and power had no equal.  Slowly did he march his troops towards the rocky tops of the hills that surrounded the Vile One’s throne, but ever steadily did they progress towards their goal.  Many foes fell beneath them, and none stood who could challenge the Great Youth and his companions.  ‘Oh, had only The Mountain marched with Saban,’ said one soldier who lay battered at the feet of his aggressor.  ‘Then the grip of defeat would have come sooner, for defeat was sure to come all along.’  And defeat did befall the Vile One, but he would not accept this, and in the end his own peoples struck him down so that surrender could be given the Dark Lord while some of their soldiers still drew breath, and though his people wished themselves rid of him forever his foul stench remained and soiled the very air above them.

And The Dark Lord came before his victorious legions, and he told them, ‘Four times have I marched you away from our homes and to the lands of great generals, and four times have you made those lands your own.  You have robbed them relative to their pride.  You have beaten them relative to their spirit.  Your perseverance has stifled them relative to their ability to resist you.  You have made me pleased and happy, and my pleasure makes my hatred for our foes even stronger.  But know this:  you must continue to do those things that brought us to this point, and you must not lose the drive that pushes us ever on towards our destination.  For we must ignore our appearance, and ever more develop our identity relative to being the obstacle that none dare to try and overcome.’

And the Grand Army swelled with the pride of their win, but they could taste their Dark Lord’s growing hunger, and not a single heart was content because his hunger ignited their spirits can caused them to burn with desire.

From the Book of Foes:

“In the days after the fall of Nutteus, a malaise fell over the lands of the Dark Lord, for his people feared that the previous victory was bought with too high a price.  Early dominance was thrown away, and The Mountain fell, and only through the fierce will of the Great Saban had the Grand Army persevered.  But the Dark Lord came before his people, and he said, ‘Fear not, for though perfect victory it was not, victory it was still.  And do not weep for The Mountain, for he shall fight again.’  And just then The Mountain walked behind him with no aid, and the people rejoiced saying, ‘The Mountain walks again!  Let no chicken go unfried, and may no biscuit be safe!’  And Saban told The Mountain, ‘Go and rest, for this next battle is not yours; but soon your day shall come again, and you shall feast on the fruits of the bayou.’  With this The Mountain went to rest, and Lord Saban went to the rest of his Grand Army.

‘My boys,’ spake he whose wrath is more abominable than 9,000 irate she-bears, ‘The time for us to march abroad is again nigh.  For there is one who dwells to the north whose crimes against us have been great!  Through his lies and deceit has he wronged us, and through his treachery has he smeared us!  His repayment has begun, but I am far from satisfied relative to the pain I wish to inflict onto his sphincter.’  And the Grand Army were glad to have this challenge, and they asked the Dark Lord when they could march.  “10 Debbie Cookies from today shall we go,” saith the Dark Lord.

The tellers of tales and the sayers of sooth soon learned of these plans, and word made it to the Vile One, on whom the ire of Saban lay, and who dwelt high in the northern mountains.  Long had he been believed a great general, but his powers lessened as his very girth grew, and even his loyal followers became despondent under his lead.  And when he heard of the plays the Dark Lord had made, he spake, ‘MEESA PONA KRANTHA BANTHA POODOO!’  And his followers were confused, but they knew from his panicked manner that the Grand Army approached.