24: The Forge

24: The Forge is the twenty-fourth mission of Myth II: Soulblighter.

Journal Entry
Monday April 27, Tharsis Soulblighter has done the unthinkable. With his army scattered in disarray, he fled up through the Eye of Tharsis and into the very bowels of the earth. I can hardly blame him. The sight of Alric hacking his way through the enemy, Balmung flashing in his hand, caused many of our own men to stand aside in awe.

If it were anyone other than Soulblighter, I am sure we would just wait outside the volcano until they had been roasted alive or had succumbed to the poisonous vapors. Unfortunately, he has survived worse, and we must follow him. None of us are foolish enough to believe that Soulblighter fled because he fears us. If he plans on dying it will not be quietly or alone.

Alric believes he has deliberately chosen this place for his final stand. Whether or not he will be able to escape the cataclysm he plans to unleash by destroying Tharsis and shattering the Cloudspine must not matter to him anymore. Soulblighter, like Balor before him, seeks not to conquer but to destroy; to be master of the unthinking dead and their blasted lands.

So Alric is gathering all who are fit to enter Tharsis. The walking wounded and those weakened by fighting will not be idle, either. They will see to it that what is left of Soulblighter's army is returned to the earth.

And so I hurriedly record my last thoughts before entering Tharsis and leave my journal in the care of our surgeon, knowing that I may not return - and that it may not even matter.

Either we kill Soulblighter and his minions here, or we die - and the world with us.

Background

 * Soulblighter will shatter the Cloudspine unless he is stopped. Alric must confront and kill him.

Level Hints

 * Alric has only tree magical attacks to use. Even large groups of enemies should be disposed of in other ways if your units can handle them.
 * The falling debris within Tharsis doesn't do much damage, except to those units near death.
 * Preserve as many of your troops as possible for the final confrontation.

Epilogue: Rebirth
Monday May 4, Seven Gates

The Fallen Lords are dead and the Dark has fled the land. Now we return to the difficult task of rebuilding. It will take many years to restore our cities and recover our farmlands and this time, we will remain vigilant.

I have chosen to follow the Emperor and his Heron Guard back to Muirthemne - there is nothing left for me in Strand, the place of my birth.

I have become fast friends with Nine Skull Crocodile, the man who has healed the many wounds I received during the assault on Tharsis. He is ancient, even by Heron standards, and speaking with him has given me some insight into what has happened to our world.

There are laws that govern the workings of the universe that have remained immutable for countless aeons. According to these laws, the forces of light and dark hold dominion over the world successively, the land belonging in turn to men, or to monsters.

Each cycle would be presaged by the appearance of a great comet, foretelling the rise of saviour or destroyer. Each golden age would give way to one of darkness, when foul things would stir beneath the earth, and evil spirits would plague the land. In turn, each dark age would fall to one of light; the evil would pass from the land just as the comet from the sky.

The saviours of each golden age were men who had risen to face the Dark and never turned away. They were men of unflinching heroism who would not rest until they had loosened the bloodless grip of wicked things which had dominated their lands. Many of these heroes were doomed to return in the following age as Fallen Lords, destroying all they had fought so hard to preserve.

Although the hero of every age of light is different, every dark age is ushered in by the same beast - a transient divinity that seeks only conflict - The Leveler. And so Tireces returned as Moagim to end the Age of Reason - and Connacht, the great hero of the Wind Age, returned as Balor to lay waste to the greatest empire the world had ever known.

The Leveler was never killed. He was immobilized by sorcery, beheaded and burned at the stake in the Second Era. A thousand years later he was drawn and quartered on the plains before Ileum, the tireless horses dragging the pieces of his lifeless body to the four corners of the world. Again in the Fourth Era his body was destroyed by fire, his ashes mixed with salt and buried under the Mountains of Kor. Balor, Moagim and all those before them wore the Mantle of The Leveler.

When I stated that Balor was vanquished but sixty years ago, Nine Skull nodded thoughtfully.

Soulblighter was not The Leveler. He may have been if he had survived into the next millennium - but, in his attempt to force the cycle, he perished and almost certainly will suffer at the hands of those who set it in motion. It is even conceivable that because of his actions the cycle has been broken, but we cannot be sure - at least not for another nine hundred and forty years.

Nine Skull chuckled, saying that with a little luck, he may still be around to see.

He told me about old Muirthemne, describing it with words that seemed out of place coming from such a grizzled warrior. He spoke of its many spired palaces and monuments and the grand bazaar during each year's harvest. When I told him that I wished I could have seen the city at the height of its power, he said I might see it in my lifetime.

Then he told me that next year the Heron Guard will be reinstating the septannual tournament to fill out their ranks. Men of bravery and warriors of renown from every corner of the empire will gather to compete for the honor of joining them.

I will be there.