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The Fallen
Specialization of the
Dustmen Guild
Guild wizards: Guido and Whitewolf
Guild Titles
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the Dark
of the Fallen
the Knight of the Fallen
the Lord of the Fallen
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the Soulforger
the Pillar of Ruin
the Heart of Chaos
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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:
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'...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.'
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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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