Magus Woomba and the Horde of Toads
The marsh quaked with the beating of war-drums. From the black mire rose a legion of toad warriors, their bone-helmed faces snarling, spears rattling in a rhythm that promised slaughter.
Alone on a moss-clad rise stood Magus Woomba of the Inferno. His crooked hat shadowed a face of unflinching resolve, and in one hand he gripped his staff, the other clutching a glowing ember-fungus that pulsed like a heart of fire.
At his side darted his only ally—Astra, the radiant hummingbird. Her wings carved silver streaks through the night, leaving trails of starlight that wove themselves into Woomba’s rising spell.
The horde surged forward, an avalanche of hate and hunger. Yet Woomba did not yield. He struck his staff into the muck, and the swamp itself answered. A circle of burning runes spread beneath him, each sigil igniting like molten stone. Water hissed into steam. Lightning cracked from the heavens.
The warriors faltered, but Woomba’s voice thundered over them:
“The marsh is mine to command.”
Fire and starlight fused into a storm, and the horde met not a lone magician, but the wrath of the Inferno itself.
Featured in
Toads
Virgilius
Featuring
Magus Woomba and the Horde of Toads
The marsh quaked with the beating of war-drums. From the black mire rose a legion of toad warriors, their bone-helmed faces snarling, spears rattling in a rhythm that promised slaughter.
Alone on a moss-clad rise stood Magus Woomba of the Inferno. His crooked hat shadowed a face of unflinching resolve, and in one hand he gripped his staff, the other clutching a glowing ember-fungus that pulsed like a heart of fire.
At his side darted his only ally—Astra, the radiant hummingbird. Her wings carved silver streaks through the night, leaving trails of starlight that wove themselves into Woomba’s rising spell.
The horde surged forward, an avalanche of hate and hunger. Yet Woomba did not yield. He struck his staff into the muck, and the swamp itself answered. A circle of burning runes spread beneath him, each sigil igniting like molten stone. Water hissed into steam. Lightning cracked from the heavens.
The warriors faltered, but Woomba’s voice thundered over them:
“The marsh is mine to command.”
Fire and starlight fused into a storm, and the horde met not a lone magician, but the wrath of the Inferno itself.
