War was something that happened often within the history of the Gameworld. Yet it wasn’t the typical meeting of armies upon the neutral lines that divide the map into the four kingdoms. War in this world, was a political argument gone so terribly wrong that at least one side was willing to flip a coin at a chance of victory. That same metaphorical coin flip was closer to the truth than most would like to admit as well, for a war in the Gameworld was rarely decided by armies, weapons or even tactics.

For a reason forged so long ago in the past that only the admins themselves knew the truth today, admins participated in the wars of mortals. While participating, the admins in question would willingly enter what was referred to as a ‘War State’. A state of existence that greatly limited their powers, so that they’d not simply be unbeatable. Yet a limited admin was still something for mortals to fear. Their health was replaced with a fake health pool that acted more like a protective shield, so that they could be almost effectively killed without any actual risk. Once such a health pool was depleted, the admin in question was forbidden to interfere further in the conflict.

The coin flip was rather simple. Which admin would be victorious and knock the other out of the conflict. For despite it being possible for a massive army to eventually bring a war state admin down, the cost and damage alone almost guaranteed defeat. Thus, the first conflict of any war would be two admins eying one another down. The victor would go on to decimate what was left of their enemy’s armies until a surrender was forced out of the losing monarch.

The Byw Forest boarder was where the forest itself gently gave way to the large grass fields that then transitioned into sand and bloodstained gravel the closer you got to The Tower of Peace. On the other side of the tower, the gravel continued onwards, eventually transitioning into the hardened rocky terrain that marked the boarder of Virki. A kingdom riddled with steep, mountainous terrain.

Safely hidden within the shadows of the tree cover, the Elven army lay. Staff stood front and centre, one step behind the tree line itself. Each admin had their own speciality. Staff’s was magic. The many young mages quietly trembling behind him seemed to get a sense of resolve and calm from simply taking in his clear, deception free presence. Something about having a god between you and the enemy seemed to help one’s nerves. Clearly, this was their first war. This was not Staff’s first war. Truthfully the man wouldn’t be able to count how many wars he’d taken part in. How many armies he’d deleted with the flick of his wrist. An admin in a war was terrifying for a mortal to try and face, but Staff in particular was one to avoid especially. Magic had the nasty habit of being incredibly good at cutting down ranks of soldiers. A tactic the Elves took advantage of on the regular. Most of their army was made up of mages, archers and some lightly armed warriors wielding a short sword and wooden shield. Heavily weighted towards ranged units, their tactics depended almost entirely on ambushes and surprise attacks. That was why they’d remained within the tree line instead of waltzing out onto the open battlefield.

Their enemy had a far different approach to battle. Staff eyed the moving wall of metal as it came into view over the crest of the last small hill within the Virki boarder. A sea of metal. Dwarven warriors wielding either axes or hammers and wearing armour thick enough to shrug a fair share of blows aimed their way. Dwarves were miners, warriors. They spat at the word coward and solved things the best way they knew how, with brute force.

Staff scanned the approaching army but found no sign of Axe. He gave a small sigh and rested his weight on the magical staff within his hands. What was his old friend up to this time? The Dwarven army continued its advance around The Tower of Peace, as no army was foolish enough to challenge the tower itself despite such a force. With such ferocious warriors bearing down on them, the Elves and their flimsy wooden shields wouldn’t exactly be a match. After a few more moments, it became clear that Axe was yet to make an appearance in this battle. So be it.

Staff took his first step forwards. He stepped out of the pitch-black shadows into the red hue of the morning sky. His step perfectly in time with the moment the morning sun rose above the distant peaks of the Edge Mountains, casting the large shadow of The Great Tree across the battlefield. The blinding sunlight announcing his presence as the Dwarven army stopped. Still no Axe, which meant as far as Staff was concerned, there was nothing of interest before him. A magical spark lit at his feet and began to scorch a circle around where he was stood. The circle completed, only for a second, slightly bigger circle to begin charging.

Staff’s go to spell, his favourite spell, held such a place in his heart not for its power and majesty, but because it was far more complex than most mortal mages truly understood. The second circle completed itself, and a surge of magical power began channelling up his legs, up his chest, through his shoulder, down his arm and finally, to the palm of his hand. A palm he now outstretched towards the Dwarven army.

“Melt.” He quietly chanted at the exact moment the surging power slammed against the inside of his palm. The air sparked and twisted, angry at the magic being thrust upon it. Bellowing clouds of flames unleashed themselves into the world. A sonic boom shook the trees behind as the entire Dwarven army became instantly ingulfed within the spell. Without the containment of any magical barrier, the flames continued onwards, stopping just shy of The Tower of Peace itself. The flames slowly died down as Staff closed his hand to stop the spell.

Charred remains surrounded by still molten metal littered the now dwarven graveyard. Some of them were still alive, but you could only tell from the ear shattering screams of pain. The ground had turned pitch black from the heat and small grass fires continued for a few more minutes before dying out. The screams slowly came to a stop a minute or so afterwards. Such was the power of an admin, even in his war state.

Staff leant against his staff with a look of boredom, “They never learn.” He sighed. This had not been the first time he’d wiped out thousands of lives. Wielding such power was at one-point terrifying, but once he’d done it a few times it instead changed to enjoyment, however those feelings had long since passed. Staff felt absolutely nothing as he looked on at his destruction. He squinted his eyes as he noticed something shine in the distance. Armour. He watched as a second wave came into clear view. However, unlike the last wave, Axe himself seemed to be leading this one. Staff smiled the moment he noticed this. Axe had sent a vanguard to lure him out of the treeline. His fellow admin wished to clash out in the open… so be it.

Axe, the Dwarven admin, wore the signature thick metal armour of a Dwarf just like his fellow warriors. His beard big enough to cover almost all of his chubby torso and lined with silver Dwarven decorative ornaments and beads. The only thing truly distinguishing him from his fellow kin, other than his footing on the battlefield, was the two-handed war axe resting casually over his shoulder.

The handle of the axe was dark oak and riddled with rune engravings. The blade was two headed and decorated with gold engravings that continued the very same runes right to the edge of the blades themselves. A legendary weapon without question. The axe alone commanded power and respect, and in the hands of its owner, there was no match for up close power.

The magic surrounding Staff’s signature magical staff quietly dispelled, revealing its full form in all its splendour. The very same dark oak wood made up most of the staff itself, marked with enough magical circles to rival Axe’s runes. At the head of the staff, the wood wrapped around a giant, perfectly spherical crystal. A crystal like no other in this world. Such crystals were often used to contain magical power, but this was the hight of their capability. A crystal able to somewhat contain and withstand the sheer unbridled might that was Staff’s magical power.

The second wave of dwarves came to a stop as Axe continued his march towards Staff. The elven army also seemed to move back a small bit, deeper into the tree line. This world struggled to learn much from its history, but one lesson had been etched into every warrior’s skull from birth. A simple, obvious lesson. Whenever two admins met on the field of battle, everything around them was already dead. There was no point having those two meet during a clash between the two armies, because neither army would survive those next few second.

Axe steadied his heavy axe once he stood a couple of hundred metres away from Staff. With a huge grin on his face. Silence fell across the battlefield as the sun tiptoed its way higher and higher into the sky. The two gods now engulfed in the sunlight as the shadows ran to the very corners of the map.