The Order Of The Fallen

Deep within the temple to Hextor he called home, alone in his chambers, Pyromemnus sat wide awake, troubled by dreams he could not control. In his sleep he saw golden warriors, warriors holding brilliant white swords which tugged at his soul, tore the very fabric that was his being. In those dreams the soldiers stood in force upon the field of battle, facing an army half their size, an army of black clad clerics of Hextor. At the head of the army of Hextor stood Pyromemnus, and at the head of the army of good stood a proud man with close cropped hair, a kind smile upon his face even before this battle of epic proportions.

Without warning the battle begun, both forces flung bodily together, every being fighting for survival in a conflict where most would die. Atop the field, the golden clad leader of good met Pyromemnus, both standing on air above the battle. The golden leader, Erich a voice in his head told him, bowed in the traditional salute of the Knights of the Last Stand, Pyromemnus matched his bow with his own, one of the demons of his home plane who met upon the field of battle, then both men were upon each other.

The Fist of the Herald clashed upon Erich’s glistening white shield, its evil redness sparking wildly upon the holy surface, and Erich’s sword clashed upon the evil blackness that was the Shield of the Herald. Both fought valiantly, as their sides matched their fight on the ground below, one taking advantage as their leader gained the upper hand, then losing it as the fight balanced once again. Eventually, however, both men had exhausted spell after spell and stood wearily facing each other, neither caring to waste their last ounce of strength, lest the other have more in reserve.

Pyromemnus raised his hammer for his final assault, he called upon the might of Hextor to guide his strike, and power his arm. His blow fell upon the golden armor and shattered it into pieces as a brick hitting glass. Erich’s eyes widened in surprise then anguish as the enchantment of the Champion of Evil drained his very life, leaving the once proud leader no more than a shell, lifeless and empty.

Below the champions the battle seemed to mirror their own epic struggle, but as the forces of Hextor stood poised to claim victory, the Knights noticed their fallen leader, dead by the hammer of Pyromemnus. In sudden outrage, they surged, fighting like men possessed. Pyromemnus had assumed the battle won, as the fall of such a leader would serve no purpose greater than stealing the last remnants of morale from the embattled Knights. It had the opposite effect, upon seeing the death of their leader, each Knight fought as five, forcing back the army of evil, destroying every one of them, leaving Pyromemnus alone to battle the hordes. The Knights swarmed from every direction, drawing him down unto them, their swords biting and burning away his soul. The last thing he saw before disappearing beneath the swarms of golden warriors was a symbol blazing in the distance upon the skyline, the flail of Hextor stood in the middle, drawing towards it a spear, a scythe, and a morningstar. A red bolt from the flail struck the Knights, doing little, when another was added by the spear, and another by the scythe. The three bolts were destroying the Knights outright when the fourth and final bolt struck from the morningstar, obliterating even the corpses of the fallen Knights.

Pyromemnus sat awake running the dream over and over through his mind. “I see” he spoke to no one in particular. “We are not strong enough by ourselves, for they fight with unmatched fervor and hatred of our cause. We must recruit those to our side so that they can be defeated…Yes, I see now, they must be defeated for it was they who caused our failure during our last conquest. Your will is my own, My Lord. I shall see to it immediately.” Moving over to a dresser aside the bed, Pyromemnus focused his energies upon three individuals who he had no prior knowledge of, yet seemed to come to him immediately. Then he returned to his bed, “Tomorrow they shall come, and then nothing will be able to stand in our way.” With a cold chuckle he returned to his bed, finding peaceful sleep at last.

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