Fiat Botica

Long ago, in the many distant days before our age
There existed a great kingdom of gold and peace.
Happy did the men of this land live,
at peace with the animals and women around them.
As sure as the dragon swims through the river of time, so too did these able men learn their craft and live by the Code of the Elders.

Little did they know that in the East, there dwelled a gathering threat that would soon sweep through their little play world as an evil wind through a delicious orchard.
Little did they know that time immemorial had given rise to the Band of the Red Claw of Gorgoroth.


Born of the sinister machinations of the seductive Empress Shirella, the Red Claw were a greedy lot who wanted not but to bask in the rich resources and cloths of the realm. Like the stealthy stalk of the lion among prey, so too did the Red Claw of Gorgoroth make their war upon the good people of Azural.



The forces of King Keetsos were sorry to flee in the face of this reckless evil, as the Red Claw ravaged the people of Azural, slaying their children, defiling their women, and confiscating their many fine cloths for trade with the shiftless merchants of Aquas.

The Grand Council of Keetsos called before it the many sages of the realm, to find what might be done against the sorrowful flains of the inisidious Sirella. One of these sages was the famed biologist DeMarr, Lord Inspirator of the Second Age. Many times had DeMarr's pith and wit come to the aid of the King of Azural, but now his exhortations were falling on deaf ears, like water breaking on the lid of a shut jar.

"I tell you now, King Keetsos, as I have given my body and fluid for your city, trust in me to unleash the craft of the Vulcon Series upon the floding minions of the claw!"

At the mention of the sacred gift of the Vulcon, King Keetsos lifted his arm, and clutchingly stopped the hand of the maiden running the Royal comb through his long and legendary beard. With an air of royalty that only true Kings and those like kings might have, he said, "DeMarr, together we have fought many battles, and stretched in many ways, but you know as well as I that the Vulcon cannot be unleashed using the powers of Azural. We have no soul pure enough to entrust with such power. Should we make a man of Azural one with the Vulcon, we would hazard living at the knees of a Bot God. We cannot give the power of the Warrior Bot to a mortal soul. With the corruption of such boundless will, We have no idea what he will believe in, we have no idea what he will fight for."

And with the tearful flight of DeMarr, all hope seemed lost.

Lost, that is, until the salvation of this world was born.

With the smoothing of his body commencing once more, little could King Keetsos have known that the life of his kingdom had been spared by the birth of a simple boy in the fabled fortress city of Lux.

ENTER KANIECKI

A fair and kindly boy, Kaniecki had been known by the people of Lux to be a blessed crystal of the Creator. Strong and erect his powers were.

It was said that his mother was a volcano, and his father the sun, and looking at the trials of this boy-prince of the east, the people of Lux said that if this legend were true, they knew one thing of this boy Kaniecki: He looked like his father.

So fair and rich was the hair of Kaniecki that it was fed to the sickly children of the city. So blue his piercing eyes that many livestock vanished at the sight of them. So great was Kaniecki's power thoguht to be, that it was said that he could inhale the air of the earth and exhale the soul of a man sitting in a faraway land.

One morn, as Kaniecki saw the smoking ruins of the Red Claw's work rising against the new sun, the Golden One took up with great haste and fled to his workshop with his tools. When he emerged, the Creator breathed a sigh of relief, for Kaniecki had emerged with a gift: the tested Battle Armor of his Father, the Sun.

And so the flag of Azural was taken up by Lord Kaniecki, and lo had the Wars of Power begun.

Nowhere near or under the sun's watchful eye could Shirella and the Claw flee from the wrath of Kaniecki. For three seasons did he stab and thrust with his mighty rod, until finally he was readied for the Great Conflict of Gorgoroth, to end this deluge of our age.

Shattering was Kaniecki's power that day. Great was his effort. So strong was he, that sweat poured off his brow and fleshy underarms like the rains of the great Boggy Marsh.

When the day appeared won, Kaniecki was felled by the simplest of things: a poisoned lance. So cunning was the Seductress Shirella, that even while she feigned death, and Kaniecki posed with his musculature above her for the forces of good, that she pricked him with her nimble Flint, and lo the day was lost.

Seeing their Captain fall, the forces of good crumbled once more. Panic struck over the land, and the Armies of Azural scattred like children from the staff of a raging Innskeeper.

At this moment, when the light of good had been extinguished, slowly did a rustle on the battlefield emerge. The wily sage DeMarr, crusting from anguish and unwash, had found the body of the Prince Kaniecki, and made off with it to his mountain sancturary of Cleveland for the last best hope of good in this world.

Quickly now did the Red Claw revamp their oppression on the freedom of Azural. After but two tidings of the Diamond Sea, the Siege of the Imperial Citadel appeared insurmountable, as the dreaded Mordred Brigade of the Red Claw, a force no man or hero had ever vanquished, seemed ready to plunder the crown of good Keetsos for their own power and fine cloths.

Slowly did Keetsos rise that morn, knowing he would soon have to abandon his people, and kneel before the supple bodice of Sirella, yet, as he opened the gates of his keep to surrender, he did not see the fearsome visage of the Mordred Brigade.

Instead, what he saw was a miracle. Ruinous and smoky were the smoking ruins of the Brigades machines of war. So total was their destruction, it was as if the Creator God Vulcos himself had brought them to their knees and axles.

As the tears of salvation welled up inside him, Gleek, the affable yet foppish jester son of the steward pointed skyward and said "Look, Look! It is our savior!"

And slowly did this new being descend on his Malthor Glide Jets. As He stood over the wondrous destruction he had undoubtedly wrought, the hearts of the people of Azural exploded in live and joy (some dying instantly from their fervor)

"Good mighty being, how may we repay you for our salvation?" Queried the aged king?

Yet this newcomer said nothing, he merely stood silent over the battlefield, his Chrome glistening in the sun and brining hope to even the most wretched beggar.

Finally, when the sorroful joy of the masses could grow no more, He spoke, "GO NOW, AND ENJOY YOUR FREEDOM AND TRADE AND FINE CLOTHS. I ASK ONLY FOR THE SUPPORT OF A BRAVE FEW, AS I MUST MAKE THIS WORLD SAFE FOR LOVE."

And with that, the glorious sentinel began to lift into the heavens, King Keetsos shouted one final exasperation:
"Wait, good sir, tell us, what is it you believe in? What is it you're fighting for?"

With a pause, the newcomer stopped:

"I BELIEVE IN THE HEART THAT HOPES FOR PEACE. I FIGHT SO THE INNOCENT WILL NOT KNOW THE SORROW OF WAR."

"ONE DAY MY NAME WILL CHANGE THE WORLD. I AM KPAX: VULCON SERIES. THE WARRIOR BOT"

And with that He was gone. The Wars of Power had finally ended. The Great Bot War had begun.