The Triumph of Golgonath

After the events of the Second Dragon War, the realms of Akanbar had rebuilt a great deal of what had been destroyed in the battles, walls
were restored, monuments raised and damaged trade agreements re-established.
Each realm had returned to plotting against one another, but none with such fervor as the Golgonians. They had actually captured some of
their draconian assaulters, the undead sons and daughters of Karakus were trapped in the Underworld, being bent to the will of the Gods who resided there.
Golgonath's eternal ethological battle with Elysium, and of late the Ysallyrans as well, had reached a critical point. The scales of victory were
weighed evenly between the two forces. Elysium and Ysallyra had enlisted a great many of their guards to assault the black gates of Golgonath, but
the losses were predicted to be heavy. But the peoples of Golgonath were not one to sit on their laurels and wait for the assault to begin, no, the Inner Circle themselves lead raids on the armies of Ysallyra and Elysium, burning what they could along the way.
To an outsider this looks like standard war, and the usual type of war for Akanbar: attrition. But this was not so. Golgonath had learned a great deal
from the past, and they had dark plans for the beasts in their Underworld cages...


'Fall back to the pass! Bottleneck the bastards!' roared Filch, his kryllian dagger flashing in the moonlight.
It was a midnight raid gone horribly wrong, the assault of the Golgonian towers was in shambles. Someone had good information.
And I bet I know who did it too... thought Filch as he lead his company back through the pass in the Ash Mountains.
Thomas drew deeply into what reserves of magic he had left, and at the cost of his earthstone, moved the Ash Mountains into a tighter pass, forcing
the ranks of Golgonian soldiers into a tighter pack.
Filch turned to Wispera, who up till now had been actively causing landslides in the area,
'We need to sound the retreat, Golgonath was ready for us. The information we bought was obviously bait.'
'But he's never lied to us before...' Wispera said, already casting the spell needed for a rift back to the forest city.
'I have a feeling that he may have decided to do so, or maybe he was bought with Golgonian money.'


The army returned to Ysallyra, and the generals were whisked off to a meeting with the other council members to be debriefed.
Filch unbuckled his leather armor, and inspected the holes in the side where a morning star had nearly crushed his rib cage, war was hell on
Assassins, it was completely counter-intuitive to what they were trained to do, but there wasn't many Warriors left anymore.
'It was a trap, the Golgonians were waiting for us in those towers.' started Thomas, bandaging an arm covered in angry red burns.
'We know Thomas, but the question is why someone would do that to us?' asked Wispera, who was lucky enough to evade the worst of the attacks
'Simple, the man loves to create chaos. Or at least he does again.'
'He did express deep disapproval of the war, and severed any contact with us save those random messages... I think he's become more unhinged than usual in the last eight years.'
Stewert slid a peice of parchment across the table towards Filch, on it was a drawing of a man with a scarf wrapping the lower half of his face. Underneath the words 'Wanted: Dead or Alive' along with a reasonable reward for his capture. Another parchment followed,

with the picture of his potential accomplice.
'You're sure these two are working together?' asked Filch raising his eyebrow at the pairing.
'You know better than I how compelling those two can be when they want to. Ahmad would have likely convinced

Pyrok to start working against us.' said Stewert
'That's not true and you know it, there's no saving Pyrok anymore, he's made his stance.' said Rachelle, looking over the

parchment and making alterations to the writings.
'I petition the Council for a writ of execution upon Pyrok Vagabond, to be completed by whoever I choose in my guild.' stated Stewert,

looking around the table. No one disagreed.
'I'll do up the writs in the morning, Stewert you have first watch with Ashrabia.' said Thomas, standing to leave.


Pyrok stumbled up the road from Travanok, clutching his stomach. It had been a good week now since his decent meal. A pie stolen from the windowsill of some fish wife. It was fish pie, but it was a hot meal that Pyrok could not say no to. Now his stomach threatened to eat his spine, and when he sat in the grass his arse snapped at the grass beneath it.
'No food, no game... that mule's looking pretty good right about now. I never should have taken that second tut of rum. Made me forget how to summon the blood leeches... wonder how those taste after a little seasoning...' he mused to the air. Hunger was slowly driving Pyrok more mad, though that may be a bit difficult to believe.
Pyrok flopped off the side of the road, in some bushes. Looking up through the bush, he spied a soaring bird and sorely wished for a bow. He wasn't a half bad shot, though he'd never hit something that high, not even with a longbow or a dwarven blunderbuss. The blunderbuss, now there was a fearsome weapon...
'Can see why Tuireann keeps that thing under lock and key, more dangerous to you than the person you point it at.'
Pyrok's eyes lost focus for a moment, that was when he noticed what kind of bush he was in.
'Blueberries!' exclaimed Pyrok, his stomach growling noisily.
Pyrok reached into his backpack and pulled out several mugs, some stamped with tavern insignia and began

filling whatever he could with the berries.
'One for me, one for the mug. One for me, two for the mug. Oooh there's a juicy one I'll have that one.... Oh who am I kidding.' muttered Pyrok as he stripped the bush of its fruits. Putting the mugs back in his pack he sat and began gorging himself on the berries.
Through some trick of the sunlight, or by his own infinite luck, Pyrok happened to dodge a pair of darts as he ducked

his head to get a better look at the berries he missed.
The darts skittered in the grass catching his attention, popping the last of the berries in his mouth Pyrok turned to his attacker.
'You must be a rookie, wasting darts like that. Clearly a backstab would have been better.' Pyrok chided the assassin.
She was quite clearly a novice, Pyrok didn't know her name but the fact she was untrained was obvious, she hadn't

even earned her cowl yet. Her face hidden by a  veil instead.
'So, this is how it goes huh.' sighed Pyrok, drawing his cutlass.


Aaridan breathed deeply in the dawn air, smelling the dew in the grass. Surrounding his tent, were scores upon scores of troops readying themselvesfor an assault on the gates of Elysium. Aaridan looked at the reports scattered on the table in front of him, apparently the Elysians had bought new artillery from Monadh-Dach, something called 'cannons'. They fired solid balls of iron, but took an extremely long time to fire again. Apparently they used brimstone powder to fire the cannons, Aaridan knew that could be used to their advantage.
'Get ready maggots!' he roared, startling the slumbering birds nearby, 'We march upon Elysium!'
The troops began assembling themselves into orderly rows arranged by strategic values and company. Steadily they began marching out of Avenwold forest, and into Dassa. A convoy of seige weapons was in the middle, but the troops gave one particular caravan a wide berth.
Aaridan circled back to check on that particular caravan, and placed a hand on the side of it. His thoughts were suddenly filled with dark malevolent thoughts, of rending flesh from bone, and gorging himself on the corpses of the fallen.
They had brought a dragon from the Underworld.
'Today will rain in fire and blood, and when the sun sets, it will set on a Golgonian banner in Elysium.' murmured Aaridan, grasping the reins of his
night-mare. 'Oh yes, there will be blood.'


Mira was already putting on her armour when the messenger arrived with news from the scouts. Golgonath had begun its approach. The armies of Golgonath had been hiding in Avenwold for some time now, but Mira had seen no tactical advantage in fighting them in that grove. No, she convinced the other Senators to keep their remaining forces inside the gates and prepare for a seige. Smiths had been working tirelessly casting cannonballs in their forges, alchemists were escorted under guard to stockpile brimstone and flint to form into gunpowder. The dwarves were generous in their plans, the alliance having paid off once again inspite of no additional troops from Domhan.
'Senator Mira!' gasped a new messenger, bracing herself on the door frame. 'I have new news. Its about the unidentified wagon with the invaders.'
Mira raised an eyebrow, quietly telling the messenger to continue while she tightened the straps on her chest plate.
'They have a dragon, ma'am. One of the undead, from where we don't know.'
'I know where. From the depths of the Underworld they raised this foul creature. Now they're going to use it against us.' said Mira, calmly picking up her
sword and shield. 'But, what they never understand is that we have Lady Leanora on our side. We shall not fall, not with Her on our side and with the Templars defending the walls. We shall not fall.'

Ichiban was on the battlements, walking alongside was Kazgar. Kazgar was giving Ichiban one last go over on the new cannons, a dwarvish invention that was still in its prototype stages when he left for Elysium. Originally they used them for mining, blasting new shafts was much quicker, more dangerous, but much much quicker.
'So, my troops just pull the cord on the side of the cannon, and hope they hit something?'
'Nae, ye kin aim them too. If'n ye can git 'em in a straight 'n' troo line tha' tis.'
'Why's that?'
'Well, the bloody t'ings kin on'y shoot in straight lines ye know. But the 'splosion at the end, ho ho, now t'ere's a sight fer sore eyes.'
'Only cannonballs can be fired?'
'Well, ye can stick yerself in there too, fire your carcass at the blighters if'n ye so wishes'
Kazgar took his leave, heading to another end of the battlements to fight with his brother dwarves.
Ichiban inspected the assembled grenadiers, a name Kazgar said was the dwarvish name for those who man the cannons, literally cannon trooper. Each wore minimal armor, as they needed to be able to move quickly while reloading the cannons in battle. They'd practiced out in the Harbour, firing at predesignated targets, but this was the real test.
They all looked to him, one of the survivors of the second Dragon War for a speech of courage. He had none, there was no speech to give these men.
Grenadiers, cannon men, or cannon fodder? He thought. They'll be slaughtered up here, Aaridan's archers are reputedly the best. Lady of Light protect these men...

Pyrok tightened the ropes binding his would be assassin to an old stone post in the wilds. He thought he disarmed her, but turns out she had a second blade. Now her arms were useless, the skin stretching grotesquely where the breaks were. Putting a gag in her mouth, Pyrok turned away leaving her tied in the brush. Finding his cutlass that had been likewise wrested from his grasp he put it back in his scabbard turning to the assassin novice.
'How much is my bounty I wonder. Infamy is nice, maybe I should continue doing these things, make a real name for myself.'
A twig snapped, and suddenly Pyrok's world was turned on its head. Looking at his foot he saw the rope tied around his foot. A snare, he got caught like a rabbit in a snare.
'Bugger.' he said, ignoring the muffled laughter of the not-so-novice assassin.


The defenders of Elysium were becoming exhausted, though the cannons did thin the ranks of Golgonath it did nothing to slow them down.
Ladders went up first, Forsakens scrambling up them and tearing apart those they found. Pyromancers' flames cracked and crumbled the white walls
of Elysium, Legionairres pouring through like a black armoured river, their lances skewering the assembled Templars. Wardens up in the sky called down
great sheets of lightning, striking friend and foe alike, their height too great to make certain. Though the skies had their own dangers... Aaridan had
quietly released the undead dragon to consume the soaring Wardens in the sky. From time to time a Warden would fall from the sky, unseated from their dragon only to turn into a red stain on the Bridge of the Dawn.
'It really is raining blood, Master Aaridan.' commented Lucia, standing at his side watching the battle unfold. She and Aaridan were to be part of the second assault when the walls were completely breached.
'I should have asked for more, the nether dragon alone would have crushed the Elysians in a heartbeat.' muttered Aaridan.
'It's a good thing you didn't, Aaridan,' said Abeloec, seated upon his horse, 'We'll need slaves in our new Empire. I've recieved a message from the second force, they've got the Ysallyrans on the run, Eitak is leading a hunt through the Shadows looking for the remaining survivors.'
'Good, tell Malic to take some of his students and raze the forest to the ground.'

The Elysians had fallen back to the center of the city, the remaining Wardens constructed great impassable ice walls and the Templars covered each other with a great phalnax of shields, spears and pikes poking out in the gaps some of the remaining archers behind them armed with crossbows.Mira had taken a serious wound in the initial assault, a Legionairre's blade cut deep into her ribs, the corruption gnawing away inside. For the moment, she glowed with the effects of her hymns of healing, the flesh corruption still raged on inside her.

'They'll be coming from all sides, I only wish we had some reinforcements from Ysallyra... may they rest in peace.' said Mira, picking herself up from the ground. Ichiban crouched with the other Templars, his face hidden behind his helmet. His breathing was calm and easy, but his eyes betrayed his growing fear. There was no where else to run should the Plaza fall.
Aaridan rode through the streets of Elysium, those who were distracted by looting quickly saluting or bowing deeply before returning to laying waste to the shops and homes of the City in the Sun. Looting would come after the Senate had fallen, the Sword of the Dawn broken, and the Great Altar reduced to rubble.

Aaridan gazed upon the icewalls, and raised a contempuous eyebrow.'Hm, not your average icewall.' Aaridan turned to a messenger slave behind him,

'Bring the brimstone kegs forward, and one of the slave pyromancers.' Bowing deeply, the messenger raced to the back of the procession. Aaridan pricked the icewall with his sword, a smile upon his face.

At last, our time is at hand... though not one of the other Circle members are idiots, without a Master this triumph is almost meaningless. Securing a position must be done swiftly. I will be Master, and Xyrath help whoever gets in my way.

The brimstone was finally brought forward, and a slave pyromancer was dragged along by her chains.

'You. When I give you the signal, you will detonate the kegs is that clear?' said Aaridan, leaning down in his saddle to the slave's face.

'Yes, Master, but I only have enough firepower to create a spark'Aaridan grinned evilly, his eyes speaking volumes to the slave.

'A-a-as my Master w-wills.' stammered the slave, dropping her gaze to the ground.Aaridan wheeled his steed around to a better distance, and raised his hand. The slave looked back at Aaridan imploringly, seeking succour with her beseeching glances at other members of the slave caste.

No one lifted a finger in support.
'Do it, or I will do it for you, whelp.' barked Eitak, stepping out of a rift in the air.

Slowly, with a trembling hand, the slave made a sign in the air, and sparks leapt from her hand and onto the exposed brimstone powder.The resulting explosion drowned out the slave's screams, and hurled bits of her all over the streets. Some blood spattered the audience as they charged forward through the gap and engaged the Elysians in their last stand.

Eitak believed he'd captured or killed all the escaping Ysallyrans, but this was not the case. Many fled through the shadows in other ways, or vanishedentirely. The few remaining Ysallyrans who were not captured sat in a hidden room inside the Shadows, coping with this sudden turn of events.
'Where do we go?' was the general question of the now refugees.

'This cannot be happening, why are we down here while Golgonath burns our forests to the ground?' asked Orin, his face in his hands.

'Elder Orin, there was nothing we could do, our Forest has been dry for months, the rivers were not running as freely this season. It was an act of nature that Golgonath took advantage of.' said Thomas 'There was nothing we could do.'
'We could have unleashed our dragons!' cried Rianna, her arm in a sling. 'Grimlar wouldn't have had to die if you didn't see it necessary to keep that rogue.' At this, Cleonna spit on the ground, cursing the rogue in the Toan dialect.
'At least his punishment will be carried out. Xargoran will unwittingly end Pyrok's life with the gallows.' said Rachelle, tightening a poultuce on one of the survivors.
'He's guilty of revealing information in our attack, not guilty of aiding them in destroying us. Pyrok never wished to destroy anything, just wanted to cause some chaos.' said Orin.

'Look around Orin!' said Cleonna, waving an arm at their room, and at the wounded lying on the ground. 'I think he got what he wanted, with Golgonath in power he gets all the gods-damned chaos he wants!'
'And yet, he's going to the gallows. Each and every one of us know full well how slippery Pyrok can be when he wants to.'