Saga Lelnor
What follows here is the story of the death of the Hero Norel Relak, Hero and Lord of Carelia and the Ash Sea Isles, Prophet of Magnus
The host before them was vast, alone the battered and weary warriors of the Serpaents Revenge led by the Hero Nerol Relak, Lord of Carelia, Proselytizer and Prophet of the Church of Magna Serpaensism arrayed themselves. Unlike his father's death which was shocking in its absurdity, Nerol Relak knew he was likely to soon meet his end. No infantry massed with his 9 highly trained, well equipped, and cohesive unit of Berserkers, his captain Nathandar looked to his Lord and Master. A grim resolve was with all of the finest fighting force of the south which had broken the Empire's front lines twice. More than two thirds of their comrades were dead, but they knew valor would be had before the watchful eyes of Magnus.
Off the coast of Oynnaire, a region he had briefly served as a Knight the old Lord smelled the spray of salt. Yes, this would be a good place to die he thought. Here, near the cold depths, let Magnus espy our devotion, our greatness! With a proud look back to his Duchess Leta he rallies the men with a battle cry. Into the jaws of death, he leads the charge towards the enemy lines. Arrows rained down upon the men, unshielded 8 fell including Nathandar. One pierced deep into the Lord's left shoulder rendering it useless, only a moment did he look back to see Nathandar die with a wicked smile on his lips. Onwards he charged, shoulder to shoulder with the bear of a man he knew as Bursa towards the onrushing Cavalry and Infantry. Whirling and hacking they moved with a swiftness few men would ever know in this mortal world. Bursa roared with the strength of his faith defying to his end the evil which was surely the work of Glaux. First an arrow struck him in the thigh hobbling the massive giant. A man wielding a lance next struck him square in the chest sending him sprawling to his knees. Staggering upright Bursa dispatched two heavily armored hoppolites. Another soldier rode at him with bare sabre, his intent to claim the mighty warrior's head clear and cold in his dark eyes. With a flash of steel Bursa slumped to the ground his massive sword gripped tightly by both hands.
Alone now the Lord felt the mark of his master ache on his palm. Long ago on the shores of Yacon he had dared to touch the God of all. His daring proving for all the veracity of the truth he would later preach across the lands of Atamara, from York to the Barad Fortresses in the north, to all Ashlanteans and many Carelians. As clearly as one remembers their first woman did he now remember that burning fire of his gods scales, the touch of power that rekindled his soul that long ago day. It filled him to his very soul; he would be a martyr to his faith. Lashing out with a cold fury he unhorsed two riders before he was surrounded by pikemen. The first bite was from a crossbow bolt that struck his abdomen, though it was mostly deadened by his cuirass. The next was a deep puncture through his calf from his right rear. Whirling with a quick slash he killed his assailant who had been sloppy. Grinning now, his left arm limp at his side he goaded his enemies. "Do you dogs of the North not know?! I am Norel Relak, son of the Ashlantean King Lelnor Relak, I am the very embodiment of Magnus the Great Serpaent. Here among men do I speak for him. So come you vile currs, spit me on your steel shod spears. Run your blades through my flesh, and know once and for all that nobility and valor are given to men by my God. Magnus!" Taken aback at first the men hear the cries of the General approach on horseback. He is screaming for blood, and the men are shaken from their stupor. As one they descend upon Norel Relak, the favored of Magnus. His armor is quickly broken by their blows, his body swelling with blood that pours from every wound. His neck is violently slashed by a youth. Red mixes into his grey hair as he falls to the ground.
Onwards rush the men of the Empire to defeat the remainder of the Carelian forces. Life swiftly fleeing, his corporeal existence coming to an end the ancient Lord looks up into the sky and sees a lone Raven. The size of an eagle it is truly massive and magnificent. Coughing up blood as he laughs in triumph the Prophet who brought the truth once more into the world dies knowing that Corvus would forever remember his death, and relay it to his God.
