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The Symbol







Prologue

 

It was an age of wonders, mystery and magic, when the gods lived alongside mortals and ruled the world. It was an age of legends, when mighty heroes were born or lost in the murky haze of unfathomable time. One of these legendary figures was High Priest Gebelator, a man who came from nowhere and vanished into timelessness, whose deeds shaped the future of the world as it was known.

Dense, black smoke blanketed the valley. The charred stumps of the trees bordering the gorge were still smouldering and the hillside was shrouded in steam. Heat oozed from the scorched soil. It was as if the foul breath of hell had swept through the land. The slopes and the wide expanse at the bottom of the valley were covered in bodies and the maimed torsos of men. In the middle of the battlefield, barren, blackened rocks were left scattered on the ground where the fiery talons of Akturat ripped them out of the earth, towering over the corpses as fearsome reminders of the struggle. A deafening silence lay over the land, forlornly mourning the senseless loss of thousands or tens of thousands of lives. All at once, the north-easterly wind stirred with a low rustle, nagging at the all-encompassing sooty blanket of fog. The rays of sun cascading through the swirling vapours playfully glimmered over the fragments of bronze weapons spread throughout the field as if saying: it’s over! The horrors have finally come to an end and the senseless, decade-long war is no more!

But how could this have happened?

The balance of the heavenly realms had been disrupted and the gods turned on one another. The malevolent forces of hell, led by the ever-restless and mutinous deity Akturat turned on the ancient force that engendered them and fomented war amongst the immortals. Calling on the powers of black magic, Akturat created the Symbol, an emblem that united the essence of pure evil. Harnessing the power of the four primal elements, the Symbol was forged by demons into a seal, which the overlord called into being from the vile substance that has lurked in the depths of hell since the beginning of time. The Symbol granted Akturat the power to unleash his forces at long last.

A violent struggle broke out amongst the denizens of the divine realms. Angels and demons, immortals and divine creatures slaughtered each other ceaselessly and before long, their strife spread to the world of men, with death and destruction in tow. Caught off guard, senseless violence soon raged amongst men and death reaped a ghastly harvest.

In order to weaken and divide his enemies, Akturat succeeded in turning men against one another, father against son, brother against brother, severing the ties between the souls of the people of the Highlands and Albion and their gods.

The fortunes of war ebbed and flowed, yet every minute, hour, day, week and month steeped in death brought the dark overlord closer to his final victory, casting an ever-darker and desperate future in the tormented minds of men. In the growing darkness, the appearance of a man of unknown origin came as a blinding bolt of light. No one knew who he was or whence he game, yet at once he led the way in the struggle. The aged man known as Gebelator opposed the lord of darkness with a firm hand and otherworldly powers.

The tall, lean figure was the high priest of a secretive religion unknown to the people of the land, appearing wherever there were grim tidings, lending a hand in the struggle against the demons of Akturat. Over time, rumours abound that perhaps the high priest was not of this world and was none other than a deity in his own right; yet the anguished and disheartened men were indifferent to the origin of Gebelator. All that mattered was that he represented the last glimmer of hope for their cause. Finally, the armies united under his lead to halt the spread of the hordes of Akturat, vanquishing them in a decisive strike in the heart of the Highlands. Men answered the high priest’s call from the farthest reaches of the island to end the rampage of the demon and overthrow its forces once and for all.

The final battle was a cruel and merciless fray. The onslaught carried on for a whole day, yet thanks to the mercy of the gods, they finally succeeded in banishing the forces of evil to the depths of hell! Akturat’s fiery seal was extinguished and the gloom that preyed on the minds of the people of the Highlands was suddenly dispersed, despite the terrible price the folk of Albion were forced to pay for this victory.

Following the battle, sanctuaries were erected throughout the land to honour the memory of the victory over Akturat and to ensure that no one would ever forget the darkness that shrouded the beast and its evil company. High Priest Gebelator arranged for the destruction of Akturat’s fallen symbol before scattering the remains of the relic of ruin to the four distant reaches of the island and ordering the priests to forbid anyone from ever touching Akturat’s artefact under pain of death. The High Priest and his followers did the utmost to ensure that no one would utter the foul name of their foe, thus ridding the mortal world of its presence once and for all.

Yet the High Priest knew that man is fallible and sooner or later, the day would come when they would forsake the gods in their attempt to seek out the shards of the Symbol and foolishly attempt to restore the evil relic in order to conjure up the forces of darkness. Gebelator’s only hope was that the priests would guard the secrets well and would eternally toil to defer the dark day of Akturat’s return.

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