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The Dark Liege Of Chaos Is Unleashed...
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Bal-sagoth
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[ALTARUS:] You must learn to control your spirit-form, Xerxes... for by
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mastering the art of traversing the mists you may effortlessly travel to many
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places, and many times. Countless secrets will be unlocked for you, and great
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enlightenment shall be yours.
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[XERXES:] Yes, master... and yet, there is one realm which intrigues me above
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all others, one era which occupies my thoughts unceasingly... What of the
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clash between the Royal Army of Hyperborea and the Wraiths of the Chaos-Liege?
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[ALTARUS:] Ah, yes... command the mists, Xerxes... gaze into their limitless
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depths... compel them to show you that martial vista which you so fervently
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seek.
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[XERXES:] Yes... I see the massing forces, the battle is imminent! How splendid
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the Imperial Army looks as it fronts the foe... into the fray they ride!
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[Chapter 1: The Bloodying of the King]
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[(The Armies of the Hyperborean Empire steadfastly engage the Horde of Wraiths)]
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[THE KING:]
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Imperial Cavalry... advance! RIDE THEM DOWN!
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In to the fray! Demonstrate unforgettably the art of Hyperborean warcraft!
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Spearmen, form into Omega Phalanx.
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Archers, notch arrows, prepare to loose.
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Warriors, stand ready... Sound the clarion!
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Hearken, sons of the glorious Empire...
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Here we stand upon the Field of Blood...
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Though this day we may die,
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Our legend shall live forever.
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[ALTARUS:] And the armies met upon the Field of Blood which stretched lifeless
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before the aeon-veiled citadel which men called the Shrine of A'zura-Kai, a
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mysterious and foreboding place steeped in ireful omens and legendary dread...
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Aye, the carnage of that first clash was phenomenal. The Hyperborean Cavalry
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tore gloriously into the foremost rank of the shadow-warriors, the enchantment
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of the Crystal of Mera rendering the squamous pseudo-flesh of the wraiths
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fully vulnerable to the steel of the royal legions. The king himself rode at
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the forefront of the onslaught, his ensorcelled ebon blade hewing ten to the
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left and cleaving ten to the right, his grim eyes gleaming beneath his
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shimmering horned and plumed helm. The momentum of that first charge threw the
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dark ones into shrieking disarray, and the vanguard of Chaos fell back before
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the thundering resolve of the Imperial attack. But the baleful, poisoned
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blades of the wraiths took their toll upon the Hyperborean horsemen. Raught by
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leprous swords and spears, men and mounts fell screaming to the dusty earth,
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where they were mercilessly rent and devoured by the slavering jaws of the
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Chaos-Liege's minions. Aye, glorious was the courage of the royal warriors,
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admirable was their mettle... for every Imperial Knight felled by the dark
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ones, five wraiths met their deaths beneath the slaughterfall of royal steel.
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And yet it was not enough. Like a slithering tide, the shadows engulfed the
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cavalry, and the bloodied king ordered the Hyperboreans to ride clear and
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regroup. Then, with volleys of shafts as their herald, and the Battle-Prayer
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of Hyperborea upon their lips, the Imperial Guard marched into the ravening
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embrace of the melee, and never in the grim and sanguineous history of battle
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was there a clash to rival the slaughterous magnitude of that awesome
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engagement...
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[THE ARCH-WRAITH:]
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Minions of Chaos, rend their flesh, crush their bones, devour their souls!
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[Chapter 2: Havoc at the Shrine of A'zura-Kai]
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[THE KING:]
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Onwards with our spear-heads gleaming,
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Meet them with cold steel a'cleaving,
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Fall only when our hearts cease beating,
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Men of Hyperborea.
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[ALTARUS:] At the King's command, the clarion was sounded to move the
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battle-hardened veterans of the Seventh Fen-lander Army into a flanking
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position to unite with the remnants of the Royal Cavalry. Like a purifying
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storm the allied Imperial forces clove into the wraiths to deal righteous
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pattern-welded death unto their nighted foe. But at that moment, black terror
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descended screaming from the twilight sky... howling swarms of winged fiends,
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hurled forth from the malignant bosom of Lord Angsaar, soared razor-taloned
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into the fray. Beseiged man-to-fiend upon the field, and harried from above by
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the shrieking horrors of the Chaos-Liege, the Hyperborean Army began to
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falter, and to fall. And lo, beholding the carnage, the King raised high in
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his left hand the ancient Crystal of Mera, and in his right gauntlet he
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brandished the Bane of Angsaar, the dread Shadow-Sword once wielded by the
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Chaos-Liege's immortal nemesis... and he spoke aloud the terror-fraught and
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aeon-swathed words of invocation which he alone had been audience to deep
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within the shadow-haunted Mountains of the Dead...
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[THE KING:]
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By the darkling powers of the Shadow-Sword, I call forth the fury of the storm
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to rend the massed legions of Chaos!
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[ALTARUS:] And at the sound of his baleful Words of Power, the sky split wide in
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fury, and searing tendrils of ruinous lightning lanced inexorably forth from
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the heavens to rake and reave the massed hordes of Chaos...
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[XERXES:] The fearful spells he had learned from the Mountain... did their
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casting win the battle for the King's legions?
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[ALTARUS:] The fiends were dealt a staggering blow by the sorcerous
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incantations, the power of the spells inexplicably magnified by the
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enchantments of the Crystal. The Wraiths were routed soundly by the elder
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magics, fleeing the field howling their anathemas and maledictions against the
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King, and the winged horrors fell seared and burning from the enraged sky. But
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the twisted machinations of insidious Chaos had prepared for the King one
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final blow in this dread confrontation... aye, the Chaos-Liege had reserved
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his most heinous perpetration 'til the last...
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[Chapter 3: The Awakening of Chaos]
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[LORD ANGSAAR:]
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Fly, my winged sentinel of the night,
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Deliver unto me the Ninth Crystal of Power,
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That I may at last be free once more...
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Come then, mortal! Test that cursed blade of black steel against me if you
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dare! O' great king, your pitiful army shall be swept away before my wrath!
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'Ere the dawn, ten thousand shall die!
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[THE KING:]
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For the eternal glory of Hyperborea!
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[ALTARUS:] Striking from the swift darkening sky, Angsaar's Arch-Wraith, which
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had been watching the battle with gleaming inhuman eyes, leaped to the attack
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and smote the King, engulfing him in its ebon wings and driving its
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steel-rending talons into his golden armour. And yet it was not the life of
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the Royal Scion of Hyperborea which the fiend sought to take on that fateful
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eve, but rather that which the King held tight in his gauntleted fist... the
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Crystal of Mera. Wrenching the glimmering antediluvian jewel from its keeper,
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the Arch-Wraith unfurled its leathern wings and soared into the deepening
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gloom with a cacophonous cackle of victory, leaving the King to roar his ire
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after the fleeing wraith.
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[XERXES:] But what did Angsaar want of the Crystal? I know he battled his
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immortal nemesis over possession of the mystic gems many aeons ago... but what
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use would just one of the jewels be to him?
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[ALTARUS:] After rising from his Chamber of Slumber, the Chaos-Liege's power was
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direly depleted... and he was unable to venture beyond the obsidian walls of
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his Citadel of Shadows, being compelled to control his wraiths and fiends to
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undertake his diseased schemes on his behalf. When he ascertained that the
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wizards of the Royal Court of Hyperborea held in their possession the Ninth
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Jewel of the Galactic Confederation of Mera, the most powerful of all the
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crystalline keys to the Psionic Epsilon Matrix, he began to formulate an
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elaborate scheme which would gain him the gem and facilitate his liberation,
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sundering his fetters and allowing him free reign to spread his vile influence
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across the land once more. Utilizing to its fullest extent the dark art of
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sorcerous mind-control. Angsaar succeeded in placing spies and traitors within
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the King's Court, and thus set into motion a dark chain of events
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treacherously crafted to bring the Armies of Hyperborea to battle at one
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carefully predetermined place... the Shrine of A'zura-Kai... an ancient
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citadel built over the site where, many thousands of years ago, one of the
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Galactic Confederation's galaxy-spanning star-chariots was cast forcibly to
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earth by the tempestuous skies of a powerful cosmic witch-storm... a place
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where resultantly, the star-born energies of the Prime Crystal would be
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magnified tenfold, if wielded in unison with the correct arcane incantations
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which Angstaar alone knew...
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[XERXES:] Then the battle, the defeat of the wraiths, all that had been merely a
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ruse... a scheme implemented by the Chaos-Liege merely to realize his ultimate
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ambition of the sundering of the mystic shackles?
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[ALTARUS:] Aye... the Shrine would act as a portal, a gateway opened by the
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power of the Crystal, a yawning aperture in the dimensional barrier through
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which Angsaar could escape the incarceration of his Citadel at last. And as
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the Arch-Wraith soared the night-winds on its return journey to its malign
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master, the Prime Crystal clutched in its bloodied claws, the King knew as he
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watched the Shrine of A'zura-Kai begin to glow with a great and ominous
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sidereal luminescence, that he had on that battle-fraught eve defeated one
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dreadful menace on the Field of Blood only to unleash an infinitely more
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terrifying foe... But the Chaos-Liege had reckoned without the power of the
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one thing he feared the most... the one thing which had the merest glimmering
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hope of thwarting his dread scheme and restoring order to glorious
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Hyperborea...
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[XERXES:] Yes, the only chance... the last hope for victory...
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[ALTARUS:] The Shadow-Sword. Evident once more was the fearsome
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extra-dimensional intelligence linking the sword and the gem, the same
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crystalline sentience which had guided the King to the mountainous resting
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place of the ebon blade, and had shielded the presence of the sorcerous
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immortal weapon from the dark one until it had been brought into play upon the
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field of battle, that magical link placed within the Ninth Gem by the Immortal
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if ever again the power of the Shadow-Sword should be needed to bring to bear
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against Chaos! And with the Arch-Wraith disappearing into the massing dark,
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that yard of fearsome black steel spoke once more to the King in the same long
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dead tongue it had burned upon his mind deep within the Mountains of the Dead,
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the essence of the Immortal mystically encased within the blade instructing
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the Scion of Hyperborea to commit himself to one final, cataclysmic deed... a
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deed which would end the aspirations of the Chaos-Liege forever, or plunge
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Hyperborea and the kingdoms of the world into an endless abyss of eternal
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suffering and a ravening maelstrom of limitless carnage and galactic terror...
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[XERXES:] What was that deed? What could stop the Chaos-Liege? I must know the
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outcome of this confrontation!
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[ALTARUS:] The vista begins to darken... the mists once again weave their spell
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to withold their timelost secrets. Practice your art, Xerxes... hone your
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skills, and the final outcome of this epic tale shall soon be made known to
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you...
The Splendour of a Thousand Swords Gleam...
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