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The Lost Tales of Middle Earth

Very little remains of the history of Middle Earth, in fact the only record, of this once great and beautiful land, to be found in whole of Alair was written in 643 by a mad monk called Flavius. The book is the life story of the squire Flavius which gives us an insight in to his world at its height and its end. The tome also chronicles his service to a great knight of Tyr, Geriant and the final days of his master and his world.

The book found its way in to the possession of the great library in the Basilica at Narthal in the year 1393. Here the monks of Aderra preserved what was left of the life account of Flavius, but only a few pages now remain and those are detailed here.

The book was believed to be just a story, a camp fire fable. But in 1608 a soulless warrior was brought to the Basilica in Narthal, bearing a resemblance to the knight Geriant and carrying the trappings detailed in Flavius's account.

If the story was now to be believed, how had Flavius and Geriant escaped their dieing world and what had become of the Dark Lord.

The Swords of the Azimuth

The Swords of the Azimuth, a longsword, a bastard sword and a great sword. When brought together and wielded by the chosen, they will defeat the Dark Lord.

Or so the prophecy states:

Three swords they made, the Azimith fair,
To rend the black heart of her, that shall not be named,
At the end of days, when all is lost,
The chosen with these swords in hand,
Will cut her down and free Middle Earth.

These rune weapons, created many years before the dawn of man on earth were named, Demonsbane, Deathsbane and Firesbane.

More to follow…..

The Last Days of Middle Earth

Here lies an account of the final days of our once great and good civilisation. Time and the dark powers that now roam our land have eroded all but a few of tales of what we were and what we did.

It was dark, very dark, the last days of mankind on Middle Earth. A mighty Abyssal storm preceded the great army that now marched on Alqualin, the last bastion of the free people of the world.

Gothmog's host had laid bare all before it and now the only thing preventing him covering the entire world in darkness stood on the castle walls before him.

Geriant, Knight Commander of Tyr, stood and watched as the doom of his world approached Alqualin. What was left of the forces of light and good were with him, but their numbers were now so few. For many years now they had battled against this tireless foe until only a handful of his order remained. How could they win against a foe of such terrible power?

The mighty demon lord approached the castle and taunted the knights inside her thick walls, the Balrog shouted up to the brave solders of Middle Earth foretelling of the end that awaited them if they did not yield. He promised to spare the lives of any who abandoned their post and join him against their brothers and sisters, but none came. All inside knew that this demon lord's word could not to be trusted.

So it was that the siege of Alqualin began. Fire from the Orc weapons of war rained down upon the city within the outer walls and quickly laid it to waste. The outer city walls crumbled under the fire and brimstone hurled upon them and Orcs and Demons rushed through the breaches. The city had fallen, but with so few men, Geriant had very little choice than to leave the city uncontested.

The host that had moved in to the city now turned their attention to the high keep. It's walls were much thicker and it was hoped, by those inside, that they would resist the onslaught that was to come. For a while the walls held, the Orcs died in their thousands trying to breach the keep, but the losses inside were mounting. With so few to now defend the castle, the Orcs finally scaled the walls and entered the last bastion of good in the world.

The fighting at the end was furious, many, many Orcs and Demons died at the hands of the Knight's of Tyr. But one by one the knights of renown were slain. Andred thrown from the walls his body smashed and left to rot in the city below. Andrex torn in two by Worgs. And Geriant mightiest of all the warriors cut down by Gothmog himself, his broken body tossed in to the castle well to decompose for all eternity. His sword one of the three mighty blades of the Azimuth was smashed under the Demon Lord's iron shod feet and the shards thrown in to the well after him.

Alqualin had fallen and with it all hope for mankind. Its heroes were all gone, or were they. Rumour has it that Geriant did not die, nor did he joined the ranks of the un-dying like all other victims of the Demon Lord. Rumour has it that for many hundreds of years he had lain at the bottom of the castles deepest well, caught between death and un-death. His body untouched by time, but unwilling to roam the world as one of the lifeless servants of the Demon Lord, unable to cross the Rainbow Bridge and enter Asgard.

Flavius, squire & friend.

But this was not the end for our hero, through blind chance or divine intervention Geriant now found himself alive, in a strange land, trapped in the Dance of the Dammed.

From one nightmare to another...

Had Tyr abandoned this poor soul or was this the beginning of the end for the great Balrog Gothmog who now sat in ruler ship of Geriant's once beautiful land.

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