LIAB Text 5
The back of Bat 3's left wing itched, in a spot that could not be reached by fang, foot, or wingfinger.
It preened itself once more, every place it could reach. But that did nothing to relieve the wing itch.
It was seriously considering turning completely around on the wrought-iron ornament from which it was hanging.
Then the call came. Its eyes were needed.
As a Prince, he had never traveled at all. His father, King County, popped Don specifically so as to have an heir on the throne when he went off to settle an honor challenge. He lost. Don was coronated at 15 turns old.
But despite the roots his fat duff seemed to have grown into the throne, he could see his domain better than most rulers ever would.
Doombats typically had a range of twenty hexes or so for scouting, but a Thinkamancer extended that range indefinitely. He kept thirty-six of his personal bats in various interesting locales, including four in and around the Jetstone fight. For the juice cost of a Thinkagram, Bunny could link him to one of their views, just like he was in the area himself.
It helped to get a firsthand view, instead of only relying on what his Warlords told him. He had seen a lot of battles. He'd seen more stuff than anybody probably suspected. He was preparing himself now to maybe see Jetstone fall, through a colorless and bleak view from atop her highest spire. Maybe he would see the end of the world begin here. If his sweet, cranky, warrior-Queen fell, then there was not a whole lot to hope for.
But as the bat's grainy vision came into his head, he could see her below, mounted regal and proud upon the massive bulk of her megalogwiff. The rest of her force hovered close by.
Made him smile.