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Prologue

The ground shook as if the core of the earth itself were trying tobreak free at the castle of Elveron and battle cries filled the skies like anendlessly ringing gong. The ground, muddy from the rain, had been

turned to a brownish-red like clay, but from a far more grave substance,and the bodies of both sides littered the field in a cloak of mangled flesh,bone, and steel. The crumbling fortress exuded flame and ash amid thesad, gray sky and it was as if the darkening clouds above were theproduct of its relentless blaze. Armor and swords continued to clash andwood cracked like bone on the slippery turf that surrounded the onceglorious royal abode as the ten year siege seemed to be coming to itsclose, with the effects of the tenacity of Atherons Imperial Legion finallyin prevail.

Another round from the catapults and trebuchets barraged the

castle, collapsing the outer walls like an iceberg played victim to thegrowing warmth of spring, and the cries of the inevitable victors rose witha crescendo of triumph as more of the ironclad soldiers stormed throughthe gates to sever the final remaining head of the kingdom of theancients. A tattered and worn banner of red and gold slowly rose from thefray bearing the imperial crest, a gold lion rearing on its hind legs in a seaof red; a fitting depiction of the slaughter in the field below where itwaved. The banner made its way closer and closer to the castle walls andit seemed that the end was nigh. There was no chance for either escapeor negotiation for any who still remained behind these great walls, for theLegion was not here to take prisoners or make deals. This was genocide.

The Legion was looking to cleanse Atheron once and for all of thefollowers of the ancient way to herald in a new age led by their one truegod.

The Legion, led by their king, Kafir, whom they believed to be in thedirect lineage of their one true god, had been leading this crusadeagainst the native followers of Atherons ancient ways of Agadir for ahundred years and it was finally at an end. The war had comprised of thegenocide of any race that followed the way of Agadir, of which the nomaddark elves of the plains were the most devout, and consequently the mostdifficult to defeat. In the end, the technological advances of the Legionoutmatched the pride and the massive number of the elves defenses.Agadir was the Elder Council of nine immortal gods that roamed Atherontaking the form of trees. They were immensely powerful creatures, butstill not powerful enough to protect their people from the wrath of thetyrant Kafir and his Legion. The war drove the council into hiding all acrossthe realm, casting their great following underground and turning the oncegreat power of the treefolk into mere myth.

Inside what remained of Elveron, the finest of tapestries were beingconsumed by flame as was nearly everything that had the ability to burn.Bodies of the royal court men, women, children littered the floor andits beautiful stone artisanship, crafted by the most skilled masons in all of

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Atheron, was plastered with a mix of ash, dust, and blood that made for aslick paste, the smell of which was nearly unbearable. Smells of burningwood, cloth and bodies had become normal for the invaders during theirten year siege and the preceding crusades of the realm and such sensorydetails had become the sign of their glory rather than of the callous and

sadistic nature of their cleansing. The sounds of metal on stone rangthroughout the burning ruins as soldiers spread out like ants over amound in search of any possible survivors in every nook and cranny of thecastle and not a single corner was left unlit by a searching torch. Once thesoldiers were sure they were the only creatures with beating heartsremaining in the castle, the looting began; a process more gruesome thanthe preceding the killing of innocent inhabitants, even those unarmed.Plundering, necrophilia, and demented games became the action of theexhausted soldiers, now feeling a second wind in the adrenaline rush oftheir newest and final victory. For an entire day this took place, from sundown to sun down, until the soldiers had their fill and could do nothingmore but sleep, which they did as well for an entire day, sun down to sundown.

When they awoke, there was no cleaning, no mass grave, noextinguishing of fires, just a long and silent departure back home. Theflags of blue and silver bearing a single Ash tree, the sign of a oncehopeful and peaceful kingdom to those who knew it, had all been broughtto the courtyard and burned; the armory and storerooms what was leftof them after the siege - had been looted, along with everything else thatcould be used for the trip back.

The war was over and a new age was coming. The age of Legion.The age of the one true god.

- The Ancient Book of Agadir

(The Age of the Lion)