Okay this is a bit short at the moment, its in early stages, I have to flesh it out a bit more, more desciptions, more dialouge. Its based on the first party to get the Codex, to add to the end is the secoond party and the escape from Covenant, ending with the Dwarves closing off the tunnel. Its written for someone who never read Myth before, thus the lenghtier unit descriptions. Enjoy, comments welcomed, expect full version in coming weeks, or months.
-zeph
The ruined city of Covenant, within its crumbling defenses lies the rubble of a great city. A few walls remain, remnants of buildings that stood proud, prior to the cities razing twelve years ago by Soulblighter. The dust spins in the wind between the ruins and the rocks. Not even animals walk the streets, such is mournful air of the city.
The outer walls still stand, except for the occasional gaping hole which the Dark had blasted open with their foul magics. The fall of the city was a long and painful fight, after a year of siege, the Fallen Lord Soulblighter broke through the walls. Even though the chances of repelling the Lieutenant of Balor himself seemed unlikely the defenders fought. The defended every street as if it were a nation, they would never surrender. Even as the royal family escaped, regent Mauric and the young apprentice Mage Alric, fled the warriors of the Southern Provinces fought on. As each street fell hope faded a little more, and after a solid month of fighting, Covenant was lost. The greatest standing city of the world, had fallen and with it the lives of twenty thousand men.
The sole structures still standing as they were intended are the four curved, purple pillars of the world knots, standing upon the rim of an enchanted circle, relics of an age long past, of which humanity played no part. The Knot is at the edge of the centre of the city, just within the old walls built when the city was founded four thousand years ago. They began to glow, and within the glowing lights in the form of men began to appear, the glowing ceased and where none had stood seconds ago were a score warriors.
They had been sent by Rabican himself, to retrieve the ancient tomen, the Total Codex, before it falls into the hands of Bahl’al. Among the group are a one shy of a dozen of the Colour Guard, their chain mail and clothes still bearing the stains of blood and dirt of their last fight, their shield dented and sheenless, their swords held tight in their fists. Upon their faces were the scars of a hundred retreats, and the expression of grim determination of a man whose race is on the verge of extinction.
Among them stands three of the exiled Dwarven Demolitionists, cast from their homeland by the loping Ghôls, and joined the Legion of the Province in the hope of one day getting the vengeance they dream of. Each one holds a bottle of their famous explosive molotov cocktail, ready to be lit and cast at an unwary foe.
Four forest dwelling Fir’bolg, former enemies of Province, hold the curved bows of which they are renowned of in their hands, the string taught, an arrow placed ready to be fired.
Standing next to one of the pillars is a Journeyman, a relic of another recent yet forgotten age of glory for the race of men. His days as immortal protector of the Cath Bruig Empire cast away, he wears the repentant cloak, and ten golden tiles, each the weight of a man, hang from his form. In his hand the simple shovel of a workman, used to dig up the mandrake roots he uses in the healing ritual known to all of his rank.
At the fore of the force is Mauric, a solemn expression upon his face, he has not looked upon the city of his birth in over a decade, when he was prince regent in King Alric’s adolescence. He wears the humble armour of the Color Guard and the same determination flickers in his eyes. He turns to the Journeyman,
"Six Motion Jaguar, where is the Codex?"
"It was held in the Great Library, but as the city fell to the dark slowly street by street it was removed and placed in the basement of the Cathedral, in the hope that the attackers would be repelled before they reached it"
"Right, lets move, keep sharp men, the scouts reported that Bahl’al and his army where marching towards here, no doubt searching for what we search."
A few worried glances of were exchanged amongst the party as they began to walk through the city. They all had heard of what The Watcher did to the armies he defeated, the didn’t want to be resurrected as mindless undead fighting to destroy the homes they had spent so long defending. And so with fearful silence they marched through the abandoned city.
"Its over here" said Mauric, in a tearful voice and only loud enough for the group to barely hear him. The sight of the fallen city had affected them all, the Human’s more than the others, especially those who were old enough to remember the city when it stood.
A cool breeze blew through the ruins, wrapping the fine dust around the base of the crumbled walls of the Cathedral. They moved slowly to within cathedral’s foundations. Mauric looked up at the sole standing part of the Cathedral, it was the arched western wall, with one circular stained window at the top of its crumbing arched point. Mauric stood where the light shone and the colours of the window were on and about him. His mind cast back to his youth, when he would spend hours staring at the windows that the Cathedral was famous for.
"I found the door"
Mauric was back snapped from his thoughts of home by Six Motion Jaguar’s discovery of the trap door to the basement of the cathedral. He went below with Six Motion and three of the Colour Guard, ordering the others to keep watch. He climbed down the steep ladder and into the dark, dusty cellar.
Every flat surface in the room was covered in dust, books, relics, paintings, and symbols of Wyrd were strewn around the room. Only the shaft of light from the open trapdoor and the faint glow of the oil lamp that Six Motion had lit allowed them to stare into he past. The faint glow of light combined with the dust made every part of the room an ochre brown. As Six Motion rummaged amongst the books and relics, coughing every now then from the dust he rose in his search. Mauric and the Guards stood silently, looking around the room in awe, the paintings on the wall of the city evoked memories of their youths, happier days, free from the wrath of the Fallen Lords.
"I have it" Six Motion said in a rasp voice. The book was large, but no larger than some tomes that lie in the libraries of mages. Its sized deceived those who looked upon it, for it was infinitely long and told the history of every being that ever lived, the history and future of the world. It had been used by the great Avatar Mazzarin, but when he was lost, so too was the knowledge of how to read the Codex.
Mauric smiled, "Thank Wyrd" he thought, "now we can get out of this morbid place." As Six Motion clambered up the ladder Mauric caught sight of something in the corner of his eye, he pulled a large painting out of the wreckage. It was a painting of the Cathedral after it was completed by the Dwarves a thousand years ago. As they gazed upon the towering spire, the peaked arches and windows all in the style of Dwarven architecture, Mauric and the others got down on one knee rested their heads on their swords, and began to pray.
Once again their retrospective remembrance of Covenant was interrupted. Mauric stood up, he was jolted by the sounds of explosions, like those he had heard before, of Wights. Wights are so slow and dangerous that they are only used in ambushes. More explosions, coming from the Dwarven cocktails, twanging of bows, the crunch of weapon against armour. Mauric rushed to the ladder and climbed. His head poked out of the trapdoor. He looked up, an undead Thrall looked down, it swung its blunt axe, Mauric fell to the ground.
