It wasn’t until a thousand years ago—at the end of the First Age—that things changed at the High Citadels. Great wars against Apollyon and the Kald were fought, and the reign of the Dragon Kings came to an end. It was here at the High Citadels that the most legendary of battles took place. As cities burned across Duroton, a final front against the Kald invaders was stationed here. The Durotonian Guard, along with fifty-thousand soldiers, stood fast against the ranks of icy demons. The people fought well, but the Kald had a new breed among them. They were the Megathrax, mindless, bestial Kald who stood twenty-feet high. The Durotonian Guard focused all their number on the giant fiends and took them out before they could bring down the walls of the citadels. In doing so, most of the Durotonian Guard were wiped out, but the few who remained led the people of Duroton in the battles that lingered for weeks on end. And when it was all over, the people of Duroton had managed to hold off the Kald and not a single demon made it past the citadels. The southern kingdoms were kept safe yet again.
The First Age’s end was also a new beginning for Duroton and the High Citadels. But for Darkendrog who went into hiding, and Rellenar the White who stood beside the Goddess, all of the Dragon Kings had been slain. They had fallen victim to Darkendrog’s scheming with Apollyon, and his Avatar, Celacia, who hunted down and killed their Avatars. Before the end, it was said that Felvurn of the Flames collected all of the fallen Avatars’ armors and forged them into the Elemental Chain so that Rellenar could bind the Kaldenthrax—the terrible child of Apollyon and the great, blue Dragon of the seas, Formos—to the Abyss where it could terrorize the world no more. And the Old Gods—the Great Mother and Father of the Universe—took the weapons of the fallen Avatars and forged them into the Mard Grander.
Before giving themselves up to become the domains of Heaven and Hell, the Old Gods came upon the mountains of the High Citadels and gifted the magical hammer to the people of Duroton in gratitude of their bravery and their steadfast mission to keep the Kald at bay in the far north. And so it was that the High Citadels became known as Hammer’s Hill, a sacred place once blessed by the High Gods themselves. Within the citadels the Mard Grander was kept safe, and the remaining Durotonian Guard were its wardens. They would protect the hammer for the King of Duroton until such a time should arise when its awesome powers were needed.
As the Second Age dawned into peace and prosperity, the Durotonian Guard began to study magic. With the hammer in their possession, they unlocked the secrets of the elemental forces it contained. As time past, they became more adept and slowly shed their focus on battle. The title of Durotonian Guard faded into something more ceremonial and began being used by the knights who directly protected the King and the walls of the city of Durtania. And those at the Citadels became known as the Jinn.
It remained so for nearly four centuries, until the Great Falling. The Great Falling was another age of terrible wars. Apollyon once again sought to destroy his sister, Aeoria, and take the world for himself. With his six Judges of Hell and an army of infernal demons called from the Underworld, Apollyon waged war upon the kingdoms of man.
From the Stellarium in Duroton, Aeoria called down her angels and long battles were fought. In the end, however, Apollyon and his minions took the Stellarium from her. It was at this time that King Tharick called upon the Jinn to bestow unto him the Mard Grander. With the all-powerful hammer in his hand, Tharick led an army up Mount Cloudborn to reclaim the Stellarium in the name of Aeoria. The legends said that as Tharick raised the Mard Grander against the devils of Hell, lightning flashed upon the mountains and the earth shook with terrible tremors. Great winds howled upon the peaks and torrential rains came down. And in the end Apollyon and his demons were routed.
But that was far from the end of the wars. So defeated in Duroton, Apollyon led his forces south against all the kingdoms of man. The wars of the Great Falling would culminate at Sanctuary, the earthly home of the Goddess. There, a final confrontation between Rallenar and Darkendrog, Aeoria and Apollyon, would be fought. But King Tharick would not remain idle. Having realized the invincible powers of the Mard Grander, Tharick rallied his army and set off for Sanctuary.
It was here that the legends of the southern kingdoms and those of Duroton diverged. In all forms, it was agreed that the angel, Admael, was called down to protect Aeoria as Apollyon and his Judges of Hell came upon her. In the Durotonian legends, it was said that Admael became corrupted and tempted by the power of Apollyon and turned against the Goddess, leaving her wounded so greatly that she fell into an eternal slumber. But then Tharick and his army arrived and he struck down the angel, Admael, leaving him the wingless, frail man he was to this day. Tharick then turned the hammer upon Apollyon and his Judges of Hell. So powerful was the strike that he landed upon Apollyon that the hammer shattered, killing Tharick but banishing Apollyon back to the underworld.
Of course, in the southern kingdoms, it was Tharick, not Admael, that was corrupted by Apollyon’s will. In the south they said that Tharick shattered the hammer when he struck Aeoria with it, sending her into her eternal slumber. Etheil, however, knew that the truth was somewhere in between the two versions of the legend.
Solastron had told him what had really happened, for he had been there that day defending the Goddess. It was on that day that Solastron received the scars that were hidden beneath his fur, though the tale gave no clue as to why they began to bleed out on the Shardgrims. According to Solastron, he had defended the Goddess against Apollyon and his Judges of Hell, taking the bites of each of their swords. He laid dying, consciousness fading in and out as Apollyon moved in to finish off his sister. It was then that Darkendrog came from hiding, but it was not to attack Aeoria. The great, black serpent had come to redeem himself and protect her as Apollyon drew forth Sin, the sword of Hell, and sent Hellfire toward Aeoria. But rather than let Darkendrog be consumed by it, Aeoria drew forth Grace, the sword of Heaven. Hellfire shattered her blade and knocked her to the floor.
Darkendrog scooped the Goddess into his arms and protected her as the Judges of Hell plunged their swords into him. Wracked by pain, the Dragon King dropped the Goddess, and with the last of his power called to the heavens and the Angel, Admael appeared in a blazing comet of starfire.
Rallenar had heard Darkendrog’s cry and as Admael did battle against Apollyon and his Judges, the white Dragon King left the battles he was waging against the minions of Hell and came to the Goddess’s aid. He thought Darkendrog had come to finish off the Goddess, and he clashed with the black serpent. Admael fought well against Apollyon and the Judges, but he was outnumbered. And when it looked as if Admael would falter, that’s when the Gallarhorn sounded—the warhorn of Duroton—and King Tharick and his armies arrived.
King Tharick and his men fought alongside Admael to defeat Apollyon as the two Dragon Kings clashed in the heavens. But it was at this point when Solastron’s strength gave out and he fell unconscious. When next Solastron awoke, King Tharick was wielding the Mard Grander against Admael, and in Admael’s hand was the sword of Hell, Sin. The two clashed over and over again, neither giving the other any quarter, until at last Admael stumbled. Solastron watched as Tharick brought the Mard Grander down upon his back, and the hammer exploded with tremendous force and a burst of light. Tharick was thrown back and the hammer was sundered. As it split, from it fell five colored stones—the Dragon Stones which Solastron was charged with keeping safe.
So powerful was the strike of the Mard Grander that it shattered Admael’s wings. When he stood up, he was older, frailer. He was no longer the youthful and powerful Angel of Aeoria’s star. Admael’s face twisted in anger and he picked up Sin and dragged it to Tharick who lay stricken upon the ground. He sank Sin deep into Tharick’s breast, and after a moment, struck his head with a great stone to kill him. It was then that Admael turned and began dragging the sword of Hell toward the sleeping Goddess.
Solastron let loose a howl that summoned the v
ery moon to the skies, blocking out the sun. Hearing his cry, Rallenar tossed Darkendrog away and shot toward the fallen Goddess like a comet. He scooped her into his arms and Admael sank Sin deep into his chest. The white Dragon fell upon the floor, clutching the Goddess to his belly, the sword of Hell still sticking from his breast. Hellfire sprang up around him, and Rallenar sank into the earth with the Goddess still in his arms.
Admael fled in a rage, and in the heavens Darkendrog disappeared. Solastron took the fallen Dragon Stones from the broken Mard Grander and hid them away, and brought the shattered remains of the hammer back to Duroton.
That was the true story of the Great Falling, a truth that, as far as Etheil knew, was known only by him and Solastron. Etheil often wished he could share the tale, but Solastron would not allow it. To Solastron, knowledge was something that had to be earned, and the people of this world had not earned the truth. And so it was that Etheil had kept the wolf’s secrets all these years.
After the Great Falling, with the Mard Grander shattered, the Citadels were largely abandoned. The Jinn went to the Stellarium which Duroton now claimed as their own. There they unlocked many secrets, one of which was binding men to the unseen, dark stars of the heavens. This was the birth of the Dark Star Knights of Duroton. The Citadels slowly faded into an obscure chapter in history, becoming the abandoned landmark they were today.
Etheil was shaken from his thoughts as the portcullis of the southern citadel began to chuckle with the clomping of horse hooves deep within its throat. Behind him, Etheil could sense Samrildar and his Keepers take up a more rigid stance, and even the winds seemed to hold their breath in anticipation. Etheil’s eyes fixed on the portcullis, and one by one the Councilmen came forth upon their tall, Icelandic Great-hoofs, each of them flanked by two Dark Star Knights.
Etheil had heard that the Council had begun granting new titles of “Exalted” to certain nobility, including themselves, much like the southern kingdoms did. In the southern kingdoms the Exalted were given Saints as personal champions and bodyguards. Here in Duroton, they were given Dark Star Knights. It was well known that the number of Dark Star Knights were few, so having two each was a flagrant statement by the Council of their power and influence.
Balin Yagdril led them from the citadel, his personal Dark Star Knights close at hand. Etheil knew Lord Raygar. His sword, Rampart, held a rare, orange power crystal which bestowed him uncanny strength. The sleeves of his armor were painted with spiraling ram horns. Etheil didn’t know the name of Balin’s other personal Dark Star Knight. He was a dark-haired man with a blue power crystal in the pommel of his sword and snowflakes painted up the sleeves of his armor.
Following Balin and his guards were the familiar faces of Jord, Baldir, Gefjon, Aldur and Hymnar, as well as their retinue of Dark Star Knights. The old man, Rankin Parvailes, was noticeably absent from the lot, but at Balin’s right-hand side rode a new face that Etheil did not recognize. He was a tall, pale and lanky figure all in tight, black leather. He stared at Etheil with icy-blue eyes and bright red lips curled into a clown-like smile. Something about the man gave Etheil an ill feeling, and the more Etheil watched, the more he was certain that he was the one leading Balin and the others out onto the bridge. Etheil watched as the lanky figure leaned into Balin’s ear, cupping a pale hand to his mouth as he whispered something, all the while keeping those icy eyes fixed on him. Etheil didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt uncomfortable and shifted on his feet.
“King Dagrir Thorodin is not with them.” spoke Samrildar, his voice heavy with the same dismay that Etheil felt at the revelation.
Etheil wondered if Dagrir had sent the Councilmen in his stead, or if the Council had somehow intercepted his message. Etheil feared it was the latter, and suspected the King didn’t even know that he was here. He felt his heart sink. Without Dagrir here, there was no way this meeting was going to go well. Thoughts of Brandrir and the Grimwatch filled Etheil with a sudden dread. More than ever the Grimwatch needed him. Brandrir needed him. If he were to be taken captive now, then only the worst was in store back home. There would be no aid; Brandrir might not survive; They would have no Captain and no Dark Star Knight. Etheil’s lips pursed into a tight line.
That pale, vampiric man leaned back from Balin and sat upright in his saddle. He cast a vile sort of smile at Etheil and a fear as precipitous as the cliffs gripped him. Etheil suddenly had in mind the thought to turn and flee now, but Samrildar seemed to sense his intentions and placed a large hand on his shoulder. “Hammer’s Hill is neutral ground, but I am a Dark Star Knight sworn to Duroton. I shall hear if the Council makes charges against you, and by their words determine your fate.”
Etheil nodded. He watched Balin lead his horse a few paces out onto the bridge. “Etheil Freydir, beneath the Duroton sky you were charged by the late King, Garidrir Thorodin—father of the Standing King, Dagrir Thorodin—as an enemy of Duroton. It is a charge the Lands took witness of, and which this Exalted Council still holds against you.”
Etheil felt Samrildar’s hand clutch his shoulder more firmly. Etheil stared at Balin as that pale figure again whispered something into the Councilman’s ears. Balin seemed to take exception to whatever was said to him, but finally began nodding. The lanky figure sat back up in his saddle, giggling.
“For crimes against Duroton, this Exalted Council hereby sentences you to death.”
Balin turned and motioned to Raygar and his other Dark Star Knight. The two brought their horses forward, followed by the ten other shrouded Knights of the Councilmen. The vampiric man next to Balin clapped his hands and giggled as Raygar and the others dismounted their horses, threw off their shrouds, and came forward onto the bridge.
Hell below, was all Etheil could think. His hand went for his own sword, Firebrand, but Samrildar caught his wrist.
“No.” spoke Samrildar. “No blood shall be shed upon my Hill. This is holy ground.” His Keepers formed up paired ranks behind Etheil. Samrildar then pushed Etheil behind him and strode forward a few paces. “Hammer’s Hill is sacred and neutral ground.” he called out to the approaching Dark Star Knights. “The Duroton skies take no witness of your charges here. Turn back! I am Hammer Hill’s guardian, and under my watch no stone shall be scathed.”
“You are a Dark Star Knight sworn to the Lands of Duroton!” called Councilman Gefjon. “Your duty to the lands come before your duties to Hammer’s Hill!”
Samrildar looked over his shoulder to Etheil. “Leave. Go back to the Grimwatch.”
Etheil knew that he should take the offer extended to him, but part of him had to let it be known that Brandrir, and the Grimwatch, were in trouble. Somebody other than himself had to know. “Samrildar,” said Etheil, coming up behind him. “The Grimwatch is in trouble. Speak with me and promise to pass my words to Dagrir. His brother, Brandrir, is in danger. Part of the Mard Grander has been stolen. The Kald awaken a beast. We heard its call out upon the Shardgrims.”
Samrildar shook his head but didn’t turn to face him. “Hammer’s Hill is my charge. I do not involve myself in disputes outside these grounds. Turn back or I shall throw you from this bridge myself.”
Etheil frowned. Behind him, the Keepers parted. He turned to make his leave but then that vampiric man shouted out, “Do not let him pass!” At once the Keepers tightened their ranks, preventing Etheil from passing them.
“Hand him over.” spoke Raygar as he and the other eleven Dark Star Knights quickly approached.
Samrildar slid his sword from its sheath and its blade began to throb with a deep, droning sound. “Let him pass!” growled Samrildar at his men. Then he called out to Raygar, “Come no closer.” He stepped forward, the atmosphere pulsing with his sword’s baritone song as he flourished it. Etheil again tried to make his way past the Keepers.
“You must seize him.” called the vampiric man from his horse. He trotted forward a few paces, coming behind the Dark Star Kni
ghts. “You must protect this place. You should seize Etheil. The King will reward you. The Lands will look favorably upon you. You should seize him now.”
Etheil stepped back as half the Keepers moved in on him, steel ringing as swords were slipped from their scabbards. The other half of the Keepers suddenly looked confused, torn between holding Etheil back or letting him pass. It seemed, however, that the order to not let him pass was the one winning out, and more and more swords slid from their sheaths.
Etheil drew Firebrand and ignited it. Roaring flames instantly crawled up the length of the blade and rumbled as they were buffeted by the winds. “Uh, Samrildar…” Etheil stepped back as the first of the Keepers moved in on him, the Keeper’s sword tinkling as ice encrusted the blade. The Keeper whipped his sword around, frost singeing the edges of Etheil’s shroud as he stepped from the blade’s reach. Then there was a crackling as an electrical sword danced to life, and the whoosh as a fire blade ignited. Before Etheil, all twelve Keepers had now ignited their weapons.
Etheil looked over his shoulder. He contemplated jumping. If he harnessed all of his ability, he might be able to land with only breaking his legs. Little good that would do. He could try to slip past them, fling himself over their heads, but he saw that three of them had purple Speed crystals in their violet-glowing swords. Even if he got past them, he’d never outrun those three. He took another step back as the Keepers edged their way in on him.
“No!” barked Samrildar, giving his soldiers pause. “Do not harm him!”
Raygar’s sword began to glow a steady orange, the aura encompassing his body as he came upon Samrildar.
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