EotL Guilds

The Fallen

Specialization of the Dustmen Guild

Guild wizards: Guido and Whitewolf

Guild Titles
      the Dark
of the Fallen
the Knight of the Fallen
the Lord of the Fallen
      the Soulforger
the Pillar of Ruin
the Heart of Chaos

I found this, a torn bloody rag grasped by a villager that was babbling about the 'Dark Ones' and how they have returned. I know not of what he says, thus I will relate to you his tale as well as the information stored in the parchment...

Taken from the Illuriad, the history of Burwynn:

'...came the time. The Fallen were converging upon the last fortifications of the Templars, our defenders and heros. This was the Third war of Nacosin, and evil was clearly winning over good. How the evil gained such power, I do not know, but the signs were there. Our village elder died last week and was found hanging from the ceiling, impaled through the throat by a dagger bearing the insignia of the Dark Ones. During this time, many gods supported the Fallen in their cause of death, separating and killing all those gods that opposed them. Together, the Gods of Light numbered only half of the Dark Ones. I feared for our safety, for if the Palace of Wyunit fell, our village would follow in less than a day. We could hear the battle raging in the valley next to ours, giant crashes and the screams of the wounded as well as the living. Giant clouds of smoke rose over, obviously from the warlocks that drew upon fire to assist in their deadly mission. The earth itself would shake as beasts rose from the depths of the underworld to face those that answered the call of the Gods of Light. From my viewpoint, I could see the skies open and beautiful winged warriors swoop downwards into the valley, and my hopes rose. Those hopes became grim reality as many of the warriors fell from the sky, engulfed in flames or black mists. I could only pray that the young men we sent to fight did not die by the same methods. Suddenly the sky turned pitch black, all but stopping the ensuing battle. Even from here, I was able to discern a low chanting, as if both armies had stopped fighting and began praying. Oh, what a sight that would be! But alas, I began to shake with fear, for I knew that He had come to the mortal world. Aravan, the Seneschal of Hatred, walked among us? I began to help begin the evacuation of the village when I heard a loud inhuman scream from the vale. I could dimly make out a lone figure standing on one of the mountainous walls that surrounded the valley and almost dismissed it as a scout looking for our village. What a fool I would have been to overlook the red glow outlining the figure! As I looked onwards, another figure floated up from inside the valley to meet the first one! Back and forth the two battled, sword meeting halberd. I almost lost hope in the red-rimmed figure when it revealed something from a pouch. The second figure, wielding a halberd, began to back away. Before another step was made, a giant thunderclap echoed across the sky, deafening us all. When I looked to the mountain again, there only stood the red-rimmed figure, holding a sword upwards and singing ( although to this day I do not know how I hear the words ) an ancient Templar battle song. I could not hide my tears, and let them pour freely down my face. I knew we were to triumph.'

From the tale of Ferlin, the last survivor of Burwynn:

'They came at night, the demons, yes. I was on guard at the southern gate, which was my normal post. I wasn't drunk, don't let Gurryn tell you different. I heard them. I heard them, I tell you. I began to sound the alarm, but it was too late. On dead horses, they rode in, bearing the ancient symbol of the Fallen, hacking at us. I could only watch from above as most of our initial infantry was slaughtered. I began to climb down when I saw our reinforcements arrive. It was too late, for by that time, a new group of the evil ones had arrived. They were dark clerics! We had not see clerics of the dark ones since the Third war of Nacosin! How were we supposed to fight the dead that they summoned. Our own troops' corpses! The Fallen had gained new powers, for as their blades drank blood, they glowed brighter and brighter. Each of their kills seemed to outweigh ours, for with each new corpse, they grew stronger. Priests would rip the hearts from the village corpses! Have they no goodness in their own that they need ours? Our last chance arrived shortly into battle, a group of wizards from our school of magic. Fire tore into the Fallen's lines, killing many. Suddenly, as they joined together to cast again, the Order of the Dark Heart (as those diseased clerics call themselves) began a counter-strike. They enveloped them in globes of silence, halting any spells that we might have used. The Fallen quickly waded into the midst of the magic-users, ending our last chance. Please, do not go near the dark temple! I escaped by fleeing the scene as fast as my feet would take me. I needed to spread the word! Can't you see, the information is too important to be suppressed! The Fallen, and a new class of evil, the Order of the Dark Heart are back and slaying again...Don't go near the dark templ.......'

And with that, he died.

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