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The Age of Struggle

O

pening portals between the two worlds, the enemy let loose his horrific army led by the Prince of Terror, Madrook Na'han. As his master's creation, Madrook was formed from part of his flesh and was of shared mind. He followed his master's will without question and with only one aim, to conquer at all cost. His path was only darkness.

Far from successful, the battle against this foe proved disastrous. For years the Elder Gods, alongside their creations, fought against Madrook and his horde of monsters. As the earth shook under the might of Ushara, Findari drew in stormy skies with lightning striking the foe below and Tanora's devastating rains drowning many. Eldan spread terror in their minds, turning them back on their own legions, and the immense fireballs of Brágon seared through their lines. Championed by the chosen eleven, the resolve of mortals did not waver but countless lives were lost fighting for the freedom of the new world. Still it became apparent that before long the enemy would succeed as he still controlled the portals to the old world. After three decades of battle the enemy continued to summon endless minions which laid waste to Nabranoo, whilst despite every effort of their commanders the mortal armies dwindled.

In the face of annihilation, with resources far inferior to those of their enemy, the Gods made a bold attempt to turn around their fortunes. Realising the portals provided strength and support, they sought to cut off the enemy army from their connection to the old world. While much of the remaining mortal army led by Brágon and Malachín faced the onslaught of the enemy, Moshran accompanied by Ronagan led a select group of the most adept mortals to stealthily attack the rear of their adversary. Intercepting Madrook as he approached the portals, Ronagan distracted his escort as Moshran entered into the most cataclysmic of battles with the Prince of Terror himself.

Battling for hours, both fought without mercy knowing their very existence depended on victory. Flashes of energy burst between them as each unleashed their devastating force, no other able to approach or intervene. As the epic struggle continued the Prince of Terror seemed to gain the upper hand. Roaring with laughter, he drove Moshran back step by step to the brink of retreat. Confident victory was now in his grasp, Madrook dropped his shield to raise his great sword with both hands above his head for the last fatal blow. It was the moment Moshran had been waiting for. Madrook had been deceived and Moshran, not nearly as exhausted as he had feigned, charged with sword outstretched to penetrate his armour and deal a mortal blow. The Prince of Terror cursed him with the last of his strength, “Fool, it does not end with your futile attempt to save this world! Now you will face eternal damnation!” Not heeding the words of Madrook, Moshran swung his sword to behead him in a single stroke. As the corpse fell to the ground the immense evil within exploded in a burst of energy. Flames engulfed Moshran, the burns marking him for eternity. He had won the battle but at what price?

Now unguarded, the portals were vulnerable and the Elder Gods performed a complex ritual to seal them. Without resistance from the other side their success came easier than expected. Nonetheless the ritual drained them, leaving them exhausted. The corpse of Madrook was entombed deep in the mountains, where no other could be tainted by his corruption. What remained of his horde was in disarray, readily capitulating without leadership. Those that managed to escape fled far, hiding deep underground.

The Elder Gods tried in vain to heal Moshran's wounds. Weakened from their efforts to close the portals, however, they were unable to overcome the vile evil inflicted upon him, an ominous stench seeping from his broken body. Once a fair looking warrior, Moshran's face was left disfigured beyond recognition and those who caught sight of him would turn away in horror. While his skin bore the marks of battle as deeply etched scars, a deeper wound festered below.

In the days to follow both Gods and mortals would come to celebrate their great victory. In his isolation Moshran would find no joy, only emptiness. Darkness smouldered within and having paid the greatest price of all the Gods he turned away from those revelling in the glory that should have been his, taking the mighty sword and armour of Madrook Na'han as his own.

As the Age of Struggle ended, Moshran embarked on a new path and the Age of Concord began.

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