Book: Battle of the Nine Sons

Cultists of the ruler of ruin haven’t always been relegated to the fringes of civilization and the filthy reaches of Yeenoghu’s realm, and once, not long ago, they united long enough to mount a credible threat to the established nations in the world. During the height of the last human empire, Nerath, a mortal gnoll known as the White ruin came to power in his tribe after butchering the chieftain and all his sons in one horrific combat. With the warriors cowed,
the gnoll champion swiftly turned to the other tribes stalking the forests and hills, seeking them out, one by one, to challenge their chieftains. Those who fought him died, and those who didn’t vowed their service, cementing their alliance with the blood of their firstborn sons. Not long after, the White ruin accumulated a horde of gnolls, hyenas, goblins, orcs, and dread demons summoned from the Abyss, and in the name of his wicked master, turned hungry eyes to the lands of humans.

At this time, King Elidyr, a wise and just monarch, ruled the lands of Nerath. When word reached him of the approaching storm, he gathered his glittering knights and allies to meet the demonic host. His forces, although numerous, could not compare to the ravenous beasts under Yeenoghu’s banners.

Elidyr struck and fell back a dozen times, each loss finding his diminishing army deeper in his own lands, and the gnolls scouring the earth of castle, town, and city. His numerous forays bled the host, racking up appalling numbers of dead, but nothing Elidyr did could halt the tide’s progress.

It wasn’t until the Battle of Nine Sons, when much of Nerath drowned in its own blood, that Elidyr finally triumphed over the invaders. He and his sons, each bold knights and great champions in their own right, formed a wedge and rode their magnificent charges through the unruly ranks, driving deep to reach its monstrous heart. As they rode, their armies hit the horde from both sides, sacrificing themselves for one final attempt to halt the enemy’s progress. Elidyr and his sons fought through the press, each taking grievous wounds and vanishing in the sea of blades, claws, and teeth, until only the king remained, dripping with the blood of his eldest and most beloved son. It was then that the White Ruin sought out this courageous warrior and challenged him to single conflict.

For nine days and nights, while the armies fought around them, Elidyr and the White ruin fought, hacking and chopping at each other, neither willing to surrender. On and on they battled until the dawn of the tenth day, when the roiling dark clouds broke and the light of the gods shone down upon the embattled forces. The White ruin, unaccustomed to the wholesome power of the enraged gods, shielded his eyes, giving Elidyr the chance he needed to drive home his shining sword in the black heart of the terrible monster. Just as he struggled to withdraw the blade, the White Ruin loosed a tremendous screech and was pulled, along with the noble king, into the Abyss.

The victory won at the cost of a king and his sons proved bitter, for the destruction of the kingdom suffered was too much and its people were too scattered to rebuild. In time, Nerath crumbled like the gnoll host, until it too passed into history. Some whisper, though, that Elidyr is not dead and lives on, fighting Yeenoghu in the Abyss. They feel that one day he will defeat the Beast of Butchery and return to the mortal world, bringing with him a new age of justice and peace as he drives back the darkness overtaking the world.