It had been a particularly bruising year of battle. The troops had lurched from debacle to debacle and all that remained was the finishing blow. Brave soldiers one and all, but their morale was low. Every time it seemed a rally was on the horizon, it merely heralded the start of

the newest and most humiliating defeat. And now, #NoNutNovember loomed like an evil moon, casting its baleful light on the shattered bodies and hearts of the Patriarchists. The men whispered to each other, "Let's just surrender this year. After all, he who fights and runs away,

lives to fight another day." General @D_iiW surveyed the maps. All strategies had failed, this war was all but done. And yet, from the last defeat, an idea was forming. What if, just what if, the very same weapon used to rout his brave comrades in the last battle could be turned?

It would require the use of elite weaponry usually only saved for weekends, but handled just right, it would be glorious. "Lads, we can do this. I know you're tired, I know you're hurt, but give me this one last effort and I promise you the halls of Valhalla shall tremble!"

Some of the men thought him mad, others looked again at the maniacally grinning face of #NoNutNovember and shivered at the thought of a Pyrrhic victory. What could one battle change in an already lost war? Ah, but to go down swinging is the way of warriors.

And so, swords were sharpened once more, and armour mended. Comrades gazed upon each other for a final time before striding out onto the field their commander had chosen. Some would fall this day and never rise again, and friends agreed not to forget each other

@ItsUncleStephen charged heedlessly into enemy lines, and emerged each time. "STEVEHOE! STEVEHOE! STEVEHOE!" the men chanted, for he gave them heart. Again and again, he fired his arrows from the back of his trusty steed. "For Lampard," he whispered with each deadly shot.

And yet, the counter attack had already begun. The losses were grim. Alexander Arnold had fallen, backd into a corner and buried under an avalanche of bread and stew. Seyi, brutally disembowelled, his blood left to soak his contract. The men knew there was no time to mourn.

The enemy was amused, however. "Is this it? We thought they were bringing their elite troops. See how easily they're being dispatched. Apart from that Stevehoe, who is being upgraded from nuisance to menace and will need to be dealt with soon. But if this is their best..."

The lads were doing their best, but in their hearts they knew the cause was lost. The losses were mounting, and the enemy was unfazed. Knowing that only certain annihilation awaited, there would be no surrender this day. Stevehoe still fought but behind him, resolve was breaking

Sergeant @stillnull had overslept and missed the start of the battle, and now he watched his brothers fall one by one. Something had to be done or this battle was lost and the war with it for sure. There was only one way, but it would involve a weapon no man had dared use before

"Give me some room, boys!" as he hurled his weapon high into the sky. "Fall back! Disengage and fall back!" came the cry. Stevehoe broke away, firing over his shoulder at the enemy as he raced for cover. Whatever had just been unleashed, he wanted no part of it.

The weapon rose higher and higher, spreading out as it flew. This was freedom, its many minds echoed. Soon, it would fall upon the enemy and do its master's bidding. It would destroy them all.

Day had turned into night. Slowly, the stain spread across the sky and the enemy stared in horror. They recognised what was coming, and knew that when it hit, few would remain standing. "Send a message to FK. Tell her to send a few of them after us."

With a mighty rumble, the weapon hit. The men, gathered a safe distance away, staggered as the aftershock hit. A red mist bloomed in the enemy lines, and thinned by distance, came cries of horrific agony. "Had to be done," the men muttered.

FK's arrival did nothing to change the course of the battle, though she tried her best to avenge her fallen sisters. In Enemy HQ, they acknowledged @stillnull's brilliant choice of weapon, knowing that from this one shot, there were no comebacks.

The day belonged to the Patriarchists, and NOW they could face the terrors of #NoNutNovember with a smile. A tight smile, yes. But a smile just the same.

HEIL SANDAL!