Caves of Koilos

A stentorian war cry shook the Caves of Koilos.

It was the day that all had feared, that all had dreaded. The name was only spoken in fear. No man in his right mind would speak the name out loud, let alone in his mind. Calchexas had come.

Armed warriors stood at the defense of Benalia. The city was the oldest city on the continent, established twelve thousand years ago by the settlers that came from a neighboring continent. As soon as the news broke out, soldiers from all over Terisiare had come to the rescue of Benalia. Young men from Lat-Nam bought rusty swords to join the cause, knights and mages brought squires and apprentices. Even the Keldons sent twelve longships loaded with dwarves to protect the ancient city of Benalia. The city itself, however, provided the greatest defense of all. The armies of Benalia were known to be the greatest on Terisiare, perhaps even in the entire plane of Dominaria. The soldiers were only too powerful to defeat the attacking forces.

Koilos was the spot. It was once known as the Caves of the Damned, for the Banished find use of Koilos. The Banished find a way to return to Dominaria. Pontifex's book, The Dominarian Legacy, however declared that the day of death would come if those banished to the dark plane of hell were to reappear on earth. They would use Koilos as a portal to return to earth. Such an incident had been avoided by the heroes that defended the city four thousand years ago. That time had come again.

The first battle at the Caves had started, and Benalia's war cry was powerful. Their light swords whirled through the air, singing a sharp hymn as they stabbed into the forces of hell. Heavy blades whirled through the air slicing through what used to be flesh and blood. All around the Caves were mages, concentrating their power into the weapons of the soldiers. Most of the weapons used were mage-powered, capable of slicing through anything from steel to bone. The battle looked grand, and a few brave boys ran to the edges of the city, watching the gory sight. It looked a mighty victory for the Benalians.

However the battle was not to be won so easily. Hell's forces tampered with the magical rifts, opening more portals all throughout the Caves. Hell's power broke out with a roar. The banished fought back into the hordes of defenders. Undead assassins and archers pulled their bows and let plague arrows loose. Screams echoed everywhere. The demonic forces however were not only undead humans. Among them stalked beasts of all kinds, from living elephant skeletons to creatures whose mouths spat plague and rot.

Still the defenders cheered. The people back home in the city were not worried. They knew that with power such as this, it was impossible to lose. They positioned the mass force of their troops into an arrowhead and charged into the land surrounding the caves. Hell fought back. Zombies and skeletons sliced rusty swords into human flesh. Their swords, although rusty, sang a song. However, this was not a beautiful hymn as the Benalish blades had made. This was a bloody requiem, almost echoing the voice of Hell's master himself.

The defenders of the city brought more warriors. The longships arrived, firing cannons and fire onto the malevolent army. Zombies and skeletons were forced back. The portal could no longer send out more troops. The Benalians had pushed the fallen back to their portal.

Then the tide swayed. A cry could be heard over the sound of killing. An old warrior, fifty years of age, screamed. There was only one word.

"Xantids!"

The old man was dead by the time he finished the sentence. The Xantids were a human's worst nightmare. They were like mantises with wings, but far worse. They were as smart as humans were, and together they cut through human flesh like a box of nails. A young man had everyone's attention. He shouted courageously, "Do not fear the Xantids, for we can defeat them!" And with that he ran into the swarm of insects. He shouted again, "Benalia must be saved, we cannot f-"

He stopped running and fell. His body was covered, top to bottom, with holes the size of toothpicks. The Xantids had turned him into a lace doily. He stopped talking, looked short of breath. He hoped someone would see him, remember him. No one did. No one saw him. Even the forces of Hell were busy fighting the defenders. No one cast him a glance. And so he died, one forgotten soul lost at the Caves of Koilos.

Koilos was still going well for the defenders. However the arrival of the Xantids changed that. They had sliced through hundreds in a single minute upon their arrival. The Benalians looked distraught.

That was when Hell fought back. While the Benalish were too surprised to move, the fiends struck. Nightmares unleashed dark magic on human hearts. Dark blades cut through human heads. The battle had been lost at Koilos. The forces lost no time and no power. They killed every man who tried to escape. Soon the battlefield was covered in human bodies. Hell cheered.

The defense had been shattered. Benalia was in danger. However the people were still sure that the city walls would be good enough. Little did they know that the dark forces had something else up their sleeve.

Late at night, the forces assembled at the Caves once again. They were all silent. Not a sound was to be heard. Then one small boy, who had only lived six years walked onto the field. He was scared. He did not know why he was there. He wondered what he had done to get kicked out of the house by his father. Then he saw a pair of dark crimson eyes stare at him. The creature stepped out of the shadows. Its sharp claw gleamed brightly in the night light.

A piercing scream broke the silence at the Caves of Koilos.