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Chapter One: The Codex of Ultimate Wisdom
Knighthood's more virtuous paladins had erected a Shrine, in which was kept many of their hero's and dead. The keep and abbey surrounding it would now be where Ofcol stands, and they are what came into sight as Targetter, his lover, Verra, the Magus Jobe, the Holy Man Jaymes and the General Lokgrim rose over the horizon's hilly terrain.
The sun was setting behind them, thus the garrison plainly saw them. They knew that the army was coming, their scouts had told them this much, but because of the speed which Eclipse's army and the Horde had traveled away from the northern coast, there had been no time for the re- enforcement to arrive. Ironically, the former General of the Crown, Lord Maven, was the presiding captain, over-seeing the paladins at Ofcol. He was quite older now, and had stepped down to a younger General, in the capital to the south west.
He cursed silently, and made a holy gesture to Austinian for aid, as the horizon filled with similar silhouettes alongside the four riders. Over the hillside poured the Horde like rushing water, and soon the distance was covered in darkness. The earth consumed the rest of the sun, and overall, Maven assessed the scene to be 'very foreboding', quoted from his very last journal entry. Targetter was even said to have had the pleasure of the killing blow himself. Eclipse now occupied Ofcol, and in the small hours of the night, while the armies were at rest, Jobe, Jaymes and Targetter convened outside a tall door made of ivory. Runes were scattered all over, wards against evil.
"Gentlemen," Jaymes said, and the other two stood aside. "Nocturnis noselari jandicandus infernus" he intoned, and slowly, starting from the top, a dark, violet fluid oozed down the grand doorway, staining the ivory, filling the ruins, so that the doors crumbled, and withered, into ash, and then nothing. Behold, a Shrine, and on a pedestal showered in a heavenly light, the Codex of Ultimate Wisdom. Targetter stepped in, his long bastard sword drawn casually, his footsteps echoing in the large chamber.
"Welcome, gentlemen, to what may be the most sacred place left in the world."
"Not very sacred if it represents fool gods." The priest muttered quietly.
"Semantics, really." Jobe said, slowly approaching with Targetter the Codex. "What is sacred to them, is unholy to us, and vice versa. An age old argument, of which we can save for later. As long as we realize that redemption from evil to good, and conversion from good to evil is possible, which it is, as our benevolent forefather, San Gohdam demonstrated..."
"...Then whatever is in that codex can be useful to us," the Highlord finished. And the heavenly light expired as Targetter lifted the sacred book, and plunged the Shrine into the darkness that the night sky mimicked.
Chapter Two: The Death Knights of Eclipse
The army of darkness stayed in Ofcol one more significant night. Targetter was left alone with Verra in the Shrine. The place had transformed in the previous day, for Jaymes had took special care of making this most 'sacred' place into something that the dark gods could be proud of. As well as lining up the bodies of every single paladin slain the previous day (which included every one of them present, since they were too honorable to not fight to the death.) Verra Ka'tath sat idly on the southern altar, while Targetter knelt on the stairs up to the dais. His leafing of the Codex had ceased for near half an hour now, and Verra broke the silence.
"What have you found, Targetter?" She asked.
"Something quite interesting. The pages of this book are slowly changing. Spells and rituals on how to turn the undead are re-writing themselves into how to control them. The fashioning of holy weapons, as I was reading it, changed almost imperceptibly into the forging of hellbrands. And now, the resurrecting of fallen heroes.. has transformed into a ritual with which dead paladins can be raised from the dead, and forced into the service of Necrucifer. Te Occidere Possunt Est Edere Non Possunt Nefas Est. Roughly: What we are able to slay, sin has no power to consume. They keep their powers, because they have already passed divine judgment. It's complicated theory, but amazing, none the less."
"You are saying, then, that we have the power to make these corpses serve us?"
"Shall we see, love?" Targetter smiled fondly at Verra, tilting his head, and she nodded, standing, but more curious than anything. Her face was serious, filled with silent questions. Targetter stood and found the body of Maven. Codex in one hand, he chanted perfectly the intonation on the page, that he had been lipping silently the last half hour. For a moment, nothing happened, and the two looked at each other unsurely. Swirls of darkness came from behind the many pillars and altars, from the vents in the roof, from any shadow. A chill wind rushed down their spines as the body of Captain Maven rose slowly from the ground. His robes and theirs fluttered in the mystical wind, and traceries of energy rushed through his body. The codex hummed, and all of a sudden, it all stopped. The body fell to the ground, seemingly broken.
"Maybe I pronounced something wr-" Maven's form rose from a horizontal position, to a vertical one in such a fluid motion that it appeared that he had just defied the laws of his own body, much less gravity. He drew back his hood, and an iron crown lay on his skull, for his skin melted slowly away into vapor. A flickering crimson fire lit the inside of his skull, and with a fluid motion, his cape turned a darker blue than that the knighthood sported, and his chain-mail rusted to a blackish color. Targetter and Verra stood in awe.
"My Leige?" the death knight spoke, in a deep, metallic voice.
"Lord Maven?" Targetter gaped.
"The very one. I seem to recall that you ended my life. Ironic that you now begin it anew." The death knight stated it, with no attempt at humor. It seemed more of an insult than anything, though very well veiled. The skull's features, of course, were stoic, save for the maniacal grin that all skinless skulls sported, whether or not they were amused.
"Well... what now?" Verra interjected. "Now you raise my brothers. They yearn to be with me." "I somewhat doubt that, Maven." Targetter disagreed. "Well, not precisely, perhaps. They yearn for me to be by their sides in the land of the dead, because they pity my state. I rather fancy it." The undead paladin had an extreme amount of power, according to the codex, the ability to channel powers of Necrucifer almost directly, without prayer. The death knight rapidly became more withdrawn though, as the last of his humanity faded from his bones. A chill surrounded him. He spoke no longer except when necessary, and seemed to harbor an understandable resentment towards his new master, despite his previous words. They all did. All fifty of them.
The sun rose red the next day, and bloodied the sky. It was a significant dawn, a metaphorical sunset on the decades to come, for one last piece of the puzzle was missing before Targetter had within his power to totally annihilate the balance of the world, forever.
Chapter Three: Capturing the Draconus
Darkness has a strange tendency to be wherever light is not. When light returned, darkness kindly departed. But what if it was light who departed when darkness arrived? There was no such thing as a source of darkness. That was, until the people of Algoron became aware of Targetter's armies. Shinalstin failed to stand to them, and Eclipse captured the entire city, laying seige to the tower. With the death knights wrecking their anti-magic powers and terrible evil at the tower, they were far outmatched, and could not possibly stand against the military power of Eclipse.
"Lorseer Thill will be arriving shortly," said the death knight, Maven, one evening. His chill voice spoke no more, and Targetter, his arm wrapped around the waist of his love, Verra Ka'tath, did not ask how the anti-paladin knew. He shared a sweet embrace with Verra and they strolled to the front of the army's lines. The tower had run out of all ammunition other than spells, and the bands of death knights roving about quickly dissipated that threat.
It was a great day. No one in the history of the world had matched Conclave on the battlefield with their own magicks, protected behind Shinalstin's now fractured knighthood. And indeed, one morning all the moons had risen above the horizon together, and Lorseer opened the gate to the tower, and forfeit to Eclipse. They expected heavy losses, but to their amazement, Targetter's armies touched nothing that they did not replace soon afterwards.
"You are waiting for the moons to align, true?" Targetter asked.
"Yes, but.." Thill answered.
"Take me and my escort to the chamber where your mages are waiting for this thing to happen."
Thill gulped. "There is no such cham-"
"I have no qualms in killing you." Maven intoned stoicly. "I'm sure another mage shall aid us." Targetter nodded to Maven, who raised his rusted blade.
"No! No! I'll take you there. They will let me in.. you need me to get into the chamber." "Very well then. Let us go there."
The chamber's doors were shrouded in illusion and warding, but Thill's presence allowed them to pass. The mages inside were apparently unaware of what had been happening outside, and were quite surprised and taken aback when Targetter's company and five death knights arrived with Lorseer Thill. A dome overhead showed each of the moons approaching their apex, where the sun would be within the half hour. "It is beautiful, no?" Targetter asked Verra, as they gazed upwards.
"I can't believe it... this kind of thing would happen what..?"
"Every three thousand years, apparently." Thill offered, and cowered from Maven's cruel, cold gaze. Slowly, but surely, the sun came to it's highest point in the sky, and each of the moons, from a separate side, closed in, at one point eclipsing the sun, and then slowly aligning, and then suddenly the room erupted into a cacophony. A vortex opened in the floor and a pedestal was revealed, but there was no way in hell that any of the mages in the room wanted Eclipse to have whatever was on it. A few of the robes launched fireballs towards the company, while others slung webs and tried to keep them away. Targetter knew they only had a minute or two, at most.
"Maven, stop these magi! Jobe, we need to get to that vortex, fast." The death knights formed a line and their anti-magic began, fizzling fireballs, as Jaymes and Lokgrim assaulted under their protective cover, the offending mages. From Jobe's hands crackled lightning which sprang from attacker to attacker ruthlessly, while Targetter rushed forward towards the large crystal.
The vortex was already closing, and he dove as a fireball shot past him, and suddenly a thousand minds came into contact with his. He was stunned, but stared down at his hands, and was holding the large crystal. Symbols of dragons were engraved ornately on each side of it, and it glowed in his hands.
"He's got the Draconus!!!" Thill shouted, and in a puff of smoke, vanished, as did the other mages, leaving the room completely empty save for Targetter's company and the death knights. Verra stared at the crystal from the other side, and Jobe helped Targetter up to his feet. The vortex was nowhere to be seen, and the moons were slowly making their way away from the sun, so that bits of light filtered through to the world.
"What is it, love?" Verra asked of Targetter's eyes, who were unfocused, staring forward. "I can hear them... thousands of them. And they are me... every single one, is another me."
Chapter Four: Dragons Hide the Heavens
Very little record is left of the period of time known as the dark years. It was said that the only thing more frightening than seeing the Horde pour over hillsides and plains, through cities as if they were not even defended, was the thousands of dragons that covered the sky, and the sun with their bodies, and the land with their shadows and their dragonfire.
The world quickly began to kneel before the armies of Eclipse, and Targetter sat in Verminasia, issuing out orders with his mind and through his dragons, faster than any written message could travel. The armies of the world could not organize themselves against such ferocious fire-power, nor such lightning quick coordination. So began the conquest of Eclipse over the world.
They took cities like Arkane, New Thalos first, Shinalstin again, and the lands in between. The Knighthood fought hard, aided by Conclave, and even Malice, who Targetter took special pleasure in decimating. But as the Highlord suspected, his reign of conquest did not go without resistance for long.
Kwainin's hand interfered, and the metallic dragons were summoned by the Draconus. The came, though less organized, to the aid of the Knighthood.
It was a dark day, black clouds covered the sun across the entire continent. The day of the final battle. The forces of light had organized for one last assault, and it was said that Austinian himself rode into battle on a silvery dragon. It was the only reason explainable why Targetter took every single man, woman and dragon in his armies into the fray, including himself, at the front lines. An ancient red dragon named Ungoliante was his companion into battle, and he flew through the skies viciously, Verra on her black dragon nearby.
Below, the armies, and the Horde, turned the land black with their many bodies, and what they could not cast shadow upon, the dragons in the sky could, riding forth behind them. Below, the armies of the world clashed in a ferocious, terrifying battle that spanned for many days. And so met Targetter with a mountain dwarf dressed all in white, sparkling like the sun, riding a dragon of pure copper; of the Karma'k blood line, and another man, a knight of the line Breingiton, a Lord of the Knighthood, possessed with a divine aura, on an ancient gold dragon. A High Elf, the Speaker himself rode in the sky, long lance in his hand and a halo about his head, on a dragon of silver.
They had come for the Draconus, which Targetter had. Dragons overtook one another in the sky, and the heavens were lit with fire and brimstone, gas, lightning, ice. Ungoliante fought with the practice of a millenium, Verra flew her dragon on his wing, cutting through the opposition with her lance until finally they met the leaders of the world, mid-sky. Targetter squared off with the paladin of the crown and his gold steed, Ungoliante letting loose an inferno of fire. Their lances passed, Targetter batted the incoming lance aside with his shield, knocking the Draconus from his hand, and broke his lance on the gold dragon. The gold hurtled downwards, and the paladin reclaimed the draconus.
It was only a matter of time before the dragons turned. Verra had the dwarf right where she wanted him, and Targetter had figured the Speaker of Shalonost would come after him, not assist the dwarf on someone insignificant to the grand scheme, such as Verra.
But alas, the silver lunged in, distracting Verra and her dragon, and the dwarf had time to go in with his lance and surgically plant it in Verra's gut, sending her hurtling towards the ground below. Targetter's heart leaped from his chest, his dragon breathed a cloud of fire and he brought him down, to save his falling darling. Down through the torment of battle he dove, and scooped her up onto his saddle, and the withdrew from the battle, to the east, towards Verminasia. When they landed, Targetter firmly sheathed his lance... in the back of Ungoliante's skull.
Some say that he knew Verra as going to die, and no longer cared for conquering the world at all...
Chapter Five: A Battle Lost Because of Love
Because of Love Verra lay, bleeding in the courts of Verminasia. Her sister, Calythe of the House Ka'tath came also to her side, seeing her state, was grief stricken. Targetter shoved her off, shouting. "Let her be! Let me be with her, please!" And Calythe, stood. "Who did this? Who!?" "It was the dwarf King, aided by the Speaker of the Moons. They have the draconus." Calythe's eyes went steely, and she ran off, crying. Targetter gazed down at his love, and kissed her lips. Her eyes opened briefly, and she gave him a pained smile, and breathed: "I... still believe... in you... Elsumzi."
Targetter screamed at the nearby courtesans, to fetch a healer, and howled as Verra went limp in his arms. The skies to the west were filled with the silhouttes of a dying battle, and dragons coming towards Verminasia, to finish the ordeal. What had gone wrong? Why did Targetter suffer so. He stood, slowly, letting Verra's body slide softly to the ground.
"I promise that before this is over, I shall let them know nothing to celebrate once this battle for them is won." And he disappeared into shadow, as dragonfire rained down upon Verminasia, arrows flew into the sky, and the streets of silver and gold melted into the ground.
Chapter Six: The Aftermath of Legacy
The cold stone halls beneath Thaxanos had felt no such hatred in their midst since the beginning of time, when the darkness beneath every mountain was under direct control of Necrucifer. A swarthy, hell-bent man strode confidently through them, boots echoing like a death toll through and through. No living creature dared to stand in his way, nor the way of the two Deathknights, Maven and Vaksyne, who accompanied him. A yinn, Vette Sho'Gul strode behind him, an emissary from the Yinn Empire, a friend he had acquired during the course of years. Serpantol would pay, Shinalstin would pay, Wargar, Shalonesti. All would feel the wrath of the invasion, after Targetter's time.
"Wait here." Targetter spoke, and passed silently though metal doors, into the King's Throne room, alone. He marched up the the dwarf, and revealed himself from the shadow of the ethereal. The king stood sharply, he knew the face and the name, and the guards had no time to react.
"You killed the only thing I had left to love." Energy shot like lightning from Targetter's fingertips, and the room was engulfed in it's blue, glowing flashes. Screams filled with blood and shock. Targetter drew his sword and separated the King's head from his shoulders. Once every living thing in the room was dead, he slipped into the ethereal, and left quietly through the door he had come, but not before reaching into the pocket of the King, and relieving him of his shard of the Draconus.
This small Dracon was only part of the Draconus, but Eclipse would someday find the rest.
Already, he knew Calythe's plans in Ka'tath, to avenge her sister's death, and the recent controversial actions of the Speaker. He knew of the Yinn Invasion, and of the things to come.
Targetter could see the future. He could see a time when the darkness held control over the world, and he smiled to himself. It would never be within Kwainin's power to stop the right combination of men that might seize the world.
With that, Targetter was never seen again.
Sunset Dawn: Epilogue (Demegant Thill)
From the Combat Journal of Demegant Thill;
".... We know not what to call this new era. The time of war is technically past, and so I lay to rest this book of combat. I must confess, I was none too sad to see the dragons lay waste to the foul knights of the Eclipse. Although their transgression was before the time of my grandfather's grandfather, the legendary sacking of the tower will live forever in the souls of the Magi. It is with a glad heart that I put away the tools of war and prepare my Conclave for a time of enlightenment and peace. --- Signed, Demagant Thill, High Sorcerer of the conclave"
Post script from Lady d'Fale
There is more recent history to be found in the Eclipse libraries. Tales of the Highlord Yang, and of Verminasia's prophecied children. You will enjoy these, and observe how rich and glorious was our history. It can only be hoped that there are times to come as there were times in the past. Hmm
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