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A spirit of flame stirred before manifesting itself in a crash upon the grassy lands beneath the starlit skies. It wept with boiling tears and lashed out with fire in a state of disarray. “Mine brother. . .” The dragon had lost what anchor it had once kept to his first life as Kassian Nullivari. His true blood brother had been lost. The dragon took flight once more to the skies in a whirlwind of flame and ash. Roaring cries could be heard through the forests and along the lower valleys of the mountains.

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Azhorgrond Doomforged regurgitates his ale and honey muffin upon reading the letter. ”Someone should do what my clan began and eradicate the heathen clan.”

-=- Fury -=- A figure stood before the flames of a great mountain as tears welled within his eyes. Within moments the figure lashed out with a hateful cry and in its wake came fire. . . Within its wake came oblivion. . . Lost and tormented. . . "I never meant to fail you." The wails of a drakaarling echoed throughout the valley and hung in the air as the inferno engulfed all that was lush and green. . . Beneath that starry sky with the God's as his witness he had sworn. . . That son who had been chosen and gifted with His Father's fury; He had sworn to tear it all down. To burn it all. To rebuild it from the ashes they whence had came. "I will make it all right, mother."

The Doomforged Clan approves this message.

(A dream of the Age of Darkness; The Gates of Ibliss’ domain.) 𖤓 Order; My Lord, My father 𖤓 When I was a youth I had trained in the yards of Sunbreak and toiled under the radiance of Order and His eminence. The tenets of the embered carried me through darkness and temptation, but I sit here now as I pen this letter in contemplation. There is no one among the divine who has chosen to stand against Azdromoth alike that of those who had descended down upon mortal-kind and waged war against the Inferi and its False Princes and Prophets. These acts of righteous authority seemingly have become inert and remain facets of a time bygone; Devoured by time instead of the Wyrm-Emperor. Heed this call and raise thy banner by sword. Look to the light of Order in the sky and remind it that We the descendents are the force that uphold the Heavens above. If we shall fall then so too will the light of the world come sundering under smog and fire. There will be none to weep for the fallen when darkness rises. Muster thy strength and cut down wyrm and undeath alike. For the two do not discern betixt one and other; Both stand against Order. Both shall fall. Both shall meet a fate worse than the death they so cowardly evade. But hear me cravens of darkness and fire; I come bearing a gift. The Gift of Your Destined Death. My name is Order; Mine blade will cleavest the darkest of lords. My name is Maximus; Mine light within will not wane in the face of wyrms. I am the son of Xan and I urge any and all to hear my call and join me in this war for mortal-kind; Before it is too late. The Sun Reigns; Darkness Fears 𖤓 Ad Victoriam! 𖤓

-=o=-O-=X=-O-=-o -=o=-O-=X=-O-=-o I N C A R I O L stood upon the walls of Haelun' looking down upon the tide with relentless thoughts biting at every move he made. As the page arrived with a missive in his hand he seemingly shook himself from that solitary state of rumination. The startled lord accepted the document and opened it hastily; Two pale eyes glossed with pride. "We have much to accomplish my dear brother. . . We will return the great vitality of our home. . . To Silver Ascendancy." The Okarir'sil chanted amidst the halls. MAEHR’SAE HIYLUN’EHYA

Sumbakar stood before an altar of flame and shadow; A claymore of monumental size leveled itself upon each splayed palm of his. Ash and cinders idly blew off of its surface as the voice of A Z D R O M O T H hissed and whispered within his mind. His Father’s unrivaled spirit had bestowed an incalculable amount of rage within his son. The pact was made. The fate of Order was sealed. “RUIN.”. The prolific nephilim chanted among an audience of none, only He and the extension of Him; Arthonath, The Conqueror’s Blade. The Sword, Sumbakar, reveled mightily. The Redmont shook in the wake of its roar. This was its Asioth. It had been born a vessel of war. An instrument of His Father, and a tool to bring oblivion upon the Heavens.

The Sword observed Haelun’; The Silver Blood had runneth ill, rancid and putrid with the stench of greed and laze. . . The pupil of Kiljarys an Iarwain would remain a neutral force until the fates would have it be otherwise.

A de Sola smiles the Sun’s smile as Empire and God have found its way back into the heart of Man.

A drakaarling; One of The King of King’s chosen would be seen toiling in the ash, dawn till dawn, for the next thirteen days. Trees were seemingly imported on carts and planted within the day in company of flowers which would illuminate the darkness with their blazing petals. Audo’s Grotto was lain deep in the ash-fields and serves as an eternal and stark reminder of the Eternal War we wage and those who have fallen in its wake. The Age of Dragons is nigh and those fallen would not be forgotten. Eternal is the memory of Flame.

“The Doomforged Clan formally endorses Sigrun.“ - A missive which bore the seal of the clan could be found pinned to various government officials’ offices.

Azhorgrond wept for the fallen King.

A dark hammer struck down upon The Doom Forge upon Dwelgin’s departure to the Halls of Dungrimm and it would be his ancestors, heroes and legends alike who would welcome their kin to the Eternal Feast. Dwelgin’s name soon appeared in every scroll and tome beholden to the Doomforged clan; For he would be remembered.