The Natives Campaign rolled on, like a steamroller, unstoppable...
First the eastern coast had fallen, on the first month of the war.
Now they turned their attention to the west, where troops had not yet been re-supplied from england, and were ripe for the picking by the confident troopers from the inland domain. Their scouts had found that the british had built a fort in this month, protecting one port. The port was on a hill, surrounded by a river, it seemed almost impossible to get too without being the subject of extremely vicious fire from the fort.
They Called the Army commander, who immedietally sent a telagraph from a captured hut to the leader of the Domain.
"Bring forth the Weapon"
"But sir, think of what could happen, it's only in its testing stage!"
"IF you want to keep your job Framoja, I expect you obey me!!"
"Yes, sir... so the weapon... for sure?"
"YES FOOL" the leader barked
"I'll authorize its use immidietally"
The commander of the army then told the signaler, who pulled out a arrangement of flares, which he fired of in succesion, first blue, green, yellow and then three bursts of red.
Then the order was passed for all to move back, up to the crest of the hill.
A ship, painted black was sighted at sea, it moved, and turned to face the Fort. The British saw it, but all to late their cannons were turned to bear upon it. A burst of light came from the ship, blinding all momentarily, and then, a huge swell ing the water, and the sip moved away...
The water... was rushing away from land, to hundreds of meters away, but nobody knew what it meant, of course except for the aboriginals, as they watched from a point of vantage, and the Britished watched in a point of agony, scrambling to find a safge place to hold on to, a giant wave, hundreds of meters tall rose, gobbled up the british fort as it crested overtop the fort, with tons of water destroying all and sucking it all out too sea...
"It's even more powerful than I ever dreamed of..." The commander said, as a tear ran down his cheek in memory of all the British and other people down there, killed so suddenly... as none could have survived.
But the moment of sorrow quickly passed.
"THE FORT IS GONE, THE BRITISH ARE GONE FROM THE ISLAND... FOR GOOD! NEXT THE ISLAND TO THE PLACE WHERE THE SUN SETS SHALL FALL, AND THEN, THEN THE CREATOR WILL GUIDE US TO THE BIRTISH HOMELAND, WHERE WE SHALL MAKE WORLDS FALL!"
and so the army slpit up, combing the coast for any British for weeks, they found only few. Now, the Island was truly theirs!
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