Tenebrous Blade

(“Chronicles of the Bleesed Age – The Blüdhafen Massacre, Volume II” Written by royal chronicler Vojen of Sivas, written 21st of June, Year 150 of the Blessed Age, Sonnendorf)
The resistance against the dark forces occupying Blüdhafen was now mostly organized and united, but despite their faith and courage, they would succumb to the waves of darkness, sooner or later.
Many survivors believed that if they endured until dawn, the enemies would crumble under Zuhthar’s gaze. To their despair, dawn hadn’t brought any reprieve from the night, for the horrors they faced shrouded themselves in pure darkness and no light pierced their wicked aura. But the creatures alone weren’t the source of this power.
The paladin cathedral in the midst of the town, from whence the pure undiluted evil emanated, was now a horrifying and twisted structure of writhing flesh and non-Euclidean shapes. It was the cathedral that was producing the most primal aura of fear and despair, and stood like an imposing loathsome antithesis the glorious sun, the light of which it absorbed and consumed.
It is for this reason that we don’t know for how long the survivors managed to endure, as time and light were no longer a constant during this abhorring siege. But by all accounts they held on for at least two entire days.
At the end of their desperate struggle, the defenders were exhausted, their numbers dwindling, their supplies running out. Guard lieutenant Viezmar of Blüdhafen led the defence, and without him, they would have succumbed much earlier. He refused to give up, as lives of thousands of civilians were depending on him and both he and his forces were ready to give up their own lives for just another hour of fleeting hope.
But then suddenly, the attacks stopped. The defenders hoped that perhaps a dent was finally made in the enemy’s numbers, a thing that was deemed impossible. But it was soon revealed, that this was just a short calm before an oncoming storm of destruction. As the first indescribable behemoths of corruption appeared from the lost streets of the city, the survivors realized that the abominations were just amassing their forces for one final attack. One they couldn’t possibly survive.
The eldritch leviathans went through the lines of defenders like a knife, and a retreat and regroup were soon ordered. It took just minutes before the monsters massacred their way to the innocent citizens hiding in the haphazard fort of wooden palisades and began slaughtering them. Men, women, children, elders, humans, dwarves, elves, all grabbed whatever weapon they had at hand and joined the defenders in their futile last stand against the darkness. Encircled, outnumbered, trembling, standing back to back and staring into the horrid faces of the twisted eldritch terrors. This was the twilight of Blüdhafen’s desperate resistance.
But as they stood against the chaos, the survivors noticed that disarray was now going through the enemy ranks. Many of them started rushing away from the battlefield towards one of the city gates.
The brave champions of courage didn’t even dare to hope, but then a single tone pierced the putrid air, a sound that suddenly restored the defenders’ strength and resolve. The sound…of a clarion.

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