History - Eptot Sutkon

By Gogibear


Thick grey clouds rolled across the sky extinguishing the light of the moon and submerging Nol Toloskon in darkness. Black mages on the search for deep crystal, needed to resurrect and control their zombie hordes, made their way to the city. The nearest source of the crystals were the mines south of Konokul and Nol Toloskon stood in their way.

The entire realm of Eptot Sutkon had been infiltrated by the cult of Fury months prior to this invasion. And on this grim night a zealous cultist slid his dull grey dagger across the gatekeeper’s neck. The main gates of the city were laid open as the black mages of Rage and Fury marched forward.

The fighting in the city walls was bloody and protracted. Resistances formed street to street. Cultists and imp swarms fell upon the citizens in terrifying disorder and recklessness. The garrison outside the city was helpless to intervene as they faced the bulk of the enemy. Valiantly they mustered seven sorties against their assailants before their lines broke and they were scattered in all directions.

The black mages left the city in disarray as they moved to conquer Konokul and secure the deep crystal.

Messengers flew on wings of desperation to warn the realm and gather the strength of the kingdom.

The Black Army reached the outskirts of Konokul while the city’s reinforcements were many leagues away. The knights of Konokul took the battle to their enemies before they had time to settle and they took many lives - but wherever there were wraiths and demons on the battlefield the horses and foot soldiers lost heart and would not press forward. Outnumbered four to one they knew their valour would not carry the day if they allowed themselves to fight a battle of attrition. In their retreat the demons feasted and the wraiths flew forwards to do battle with the white mages that rained magic down from the battlements.

The black mages formed a circle and chanted songs of resurrection. Zombies writhed and came to grips with their new bodies and the city of Konokul trembled.

Then came an act that would form an undying bond between the Houses of Perfection and the Houses of Protection. As dawn turned into day, the wings of Meghnad could be seen in the distance beating the sky as he soared towards the commotion. After this battle he would be known as Meghnad the Doom and his roars would thunder across the world and reverberate in the heads of those who heard them forever afterwards. On this day he was a young dragon stretching his wings, yet what he lacked in size he made up for in ferocity.

Meghnad had no sense of his own welfare as he threw himself at the armies of Rage and Fury with reckless abandon. The courage of ignorance made fine armour for a time. Meghnad weaved through the skies and fell like bolts of lightning. His maw carried men, imps, zombies, demons, wraiths and mages to their deaths.

However even this lord of dragons had his limits. For the only time in his life Meghnad the Doom fell in battle and crashed into enemy lines. Dozens of claws and weapons and teeth dug into his flesh, tearing it from the bone.

It was as though the world had paused. The army of Konokul’s tears watching their saviour fall watered the seed of their resolve. They sallied forward with death in their eyes knowing they could not win the battle but to ensure when songs were sung of this day the Lords of Perfection would know they acted with valour equal to the young dragon.

“DOOM!” They cried each time they slew an enemy.

Doom! They cried scores of times. Doom! They themselves were possessed. They embodied death more than the undead, limbs torn, crawling still towards the enemy with murderous intent. To no avail. The last warrior of Konokul’s throat was ripped out by the jaws of a demon and silence fell over the battlefield. The black armies of Fury and Rage turned towards the city with a ravenous appetite.

First a whisper. And then a drumbeat of hooves.

The Eldrich Knights of Eptot Sutkon thundered across the plains of Konokul . Riding beasts of sinew and arcana, their mithral armour reflected the moonlight and shone brighter than the sun. They crashed into Rage and Fury like an ocean crest meeting a fiery shore of lava. Smoke and steam issued forth wherever their light sabres cleaved flesh from their bodies. Lord Oso rode in the van, he seemed an image of a god, invincible and implacable. He would never smile again after this day.

Heroes were born, an alliance was forged and the innocence of a realm was lost.