It had been nearly a millennia since the fall the Black Serphaim Lord Caraxis had been killed or so was thought. His spirit returned to the world of the living, but he hadn't been able to take physical form. Existing as a shade, rebuilding his forces in secret and away from the eyes of the victorious.
After nine hundred years a collection of liches and dark elven magi gave birth to Caraxis's physical form. Still weak in his new form his servants continued to labor in his name building an unstoppable force in their dark master's name.
Dark elves began to move, orcs and ogres stopped squabbling and worked in unison, the undead started rising in fighting numbers but there was no attack. No one kingdom could explain why this was happening but the worst part was that they were all working together, gathering together in unison. As if preparing for war yet again.
With no warning, the Kingdom of Ardica was overrun within a week. The dark attackers showed no mercy as most of the populace was killed. The fragmented survivors fled to the neighboring kingdoms to find solace.
The Magic Kingdom of Myrsia took up a deed most daunting. The resurrection of the heroes of old. The men and women that had stunted and stopped this dark army in the past. Exhausting itself in its tireless search to revive the heroes of old but they had the relics to bring the dead heroes back to life.
The council of magic began the ritual knowing that the cost of reviving these great heroes of old would cost them their lives. The dark army now only two days match away from the capital. Lighting cut the sky as they struck the relics of old giving birth to the old life. The wizards disappeared to dust as the heroes took physical form once again.
Informed of what had happened the ancient beings had to wait for their reality check as war was upon them yet again.
After nine hundred years a collection of liches and dark elven magi gave birth to Caraxis's physical form. Still weak in his new form his servants continued to labor in his name building an unstoppable force in their dark master's name.
Dark elves began to move, orcs and ogres stopped squabbling and worked in unison, the undead started rising in fighting numbers but there was no attack. No one kingdom could explain why this was happening but the worst part was that they were all working together, gathering together in unison. As if preparing for war yet again.
With no warning, the Kingdom of Ardica was overrun within a week. The dark attackers showed no mercy as most of the populace was killed. The fragmented survivors fled to the neighboring kingdoms to find solace.
The Magic Kingdom of Myrsia took up a deed most daunting. The resurrection of the heroes of old. The men and women that had stunted and stopped this dark army in the past. Exhausting itself in its tireless search to revive the heroes of old but they had the relics to bring the dead heroes back to life.
The council of magic began the ritual knowing that the cost of reviving these great heroes of old would cost them their lives. The dark army now only two days match away from the capital. Lighting cut the sky as they struck the relics of old giving birth to the old life. The wizards disappeared to dust as the heroes took physical form once again.
Informed of what had happened the ancient beings had to wait for their reality check as war was upon them yet again.
