All right. Might as well post before this thing leaves the page.
It had been three months since the war had started. No one had known it would be this hard. Several were injured. None had died, though. Big Face was making sure of that. Abe, riding on Elum, was holding a grenade in his hand, waiting for the exact moment to throw it. A shaman started to chant. Flames appeared around him, and burned ten Sligs. Ten native Sligs grabbes the pants and masks and used them. The enemies really defeated themselves. The Slogs thought that the Flying Sligs were Frisbees, so they started attacking them instead of the multi-species army. Also, the Sligs were never really trained in the use of their weapons, so they commonly missed. Soon, the industrial army was defeated. Helderik called in several Big-Bro. Sligs, hoping to win. But, they weren't expecting to face a whole pack of Shrykulls. The entire pack sent an electric blast at the Sligs. They were all dead in minutes. Helderik started to step back a little, when he was attacked from behind, ironically, by the very same fleech he had owned as a child. The war was over! They had finally won!
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