A Mighty Empire is threatened by a coalition of evil forces from the badlands of the North. An epic tale of sword and sorcery.
This is a story about a mighty Empire. A mighty Empire, ruled by a noble king.
For many years, the people of the Empire had lived in peace and prosperity.
But, far North, in the barren and untamed wastelands beyond the civilised world, a darkness was growing.
A fearsome and terrible warlord by the name of Brutus the Merciless had united clans and armies of barbarians, mutants, and savages. It was said that he planned to march this gigantic force South, with the ultimate aim of taking the throne for himself, and enslaving the people of the Empire.
Whispers of fear and uncertainty began to spread throughout the towns and villages of the South. The King pleaded for calm, and assured his people that they were not at risk. This Empire had stood for a great many thousands of years. They'd seen off countless similar attacks in that time, and this one would be no different – if it indeed came at all.
As a precaution, scouts were regularly sent North to investigate and report back on what was going on up there. But none ever returned.
That was, until one day, on the outskirts of the Northernmost town of Cludgiemyre.
This was a rustic town, with a salt-of-the-Earth population, hardy, and world-weary.
Though the people here often complained that they were the “forgotten town of the Empire”, being way up here in the North, Cludgiemyre was of great strategic importance.
They called it the Gateway to the North, because it was wedged in the valley between the mighty peaks of the Stauner Mountains. If an attack was to come from the Badlands, the invaders would most likely head straight through Cludgiemyre on their way into the Imperial Heartlands.
The townsfolk were already on edge, that fateful day, when a young guard on the town wall spotted a lone figure stumbling down from the pass.
It was one of the King’s scouts, covered from head to toe in dried blood, having spent time as a guest in one of Brutus the Merciless’ torture camps.
He had managed to escape and travel homeward, to give warning to the people of the Empire, and confirm their worst fears. Brutus had forged an unholy alliance with the infamous Necromancer Bryar, Lord of the walking corpses.
Also forging part of this alliance was the cold and cruel Beastmaster Alicia, with her hordes of mutant barbarians, trolls, and other savage creatures.
They were joined too by the forces of General McGeever. A ruthless and uncompromising champion who led a contingent of battle hardened mercenaries.
The escaped guard told the folks of the Empire that this dark coalition – an army of unprecedented size and strength - would soon begin their descent on the Empire’s capital city.
As scared as they were though, the folks of Cludgiemyre weren’t the types to run from danger. A raven was sent to the King himself to tell him of this grave news, and the townsfolk agreed that once reinforcements arrived, they’d be on the front line with them.
But it wasn’t the King’s soldiers who first appeared through the guard’s looking glass on the Southern horizon. It was two men on horseback.
They were Bard Leon the Powerful, and his faithful scribe Dougal.
Bard Leon had come to chronicle the war that would go down in history as the one that changed these lands forever.