Author's Corner:

After a considerable struggle with myself (my conscience was biting), I finally bring you the last chapter of Hammer of Terrascars. Mark's situation was difficult to write and trying to incorporate the situation against Nergal was very tiring. (get pelted by tomatoes of protest) Ok, I'll give you the chapter and stop whining now!

Anyways, sit back and enjoy the show!

Hammer of Terrascars – Chapter 24

Judgment

Steps to Dragon's Gate,

A curious spectacle they were, all huddled by the great stone doors leading to their nemesis. Before the great stone carvings that depicted the mighty scaled beasts of bygone times, the small company halted to catch their breaths. Pale faces drawn by exhaustion gazed at one another, illuminated by the flicker of determination sparked in their eyes. Eliwood and Hector glanced at one another, sheathed their weapons before applying themselves to the gargantuan doors. With a groan of protest, the stone slabs slid aside to reveal a dark entryway that led down several hundred steps to Dragon's Gate itself.

"We're finally here," Nils said softly.

Eliwood nodded grimly, "We fled from here once, but I vow we shall not do so again."

"We leave only with Nergal's head on a platter," Hector affirmed.

Cecilia noted Lyn's white-knuckled grip on the Sol Katti, "Be at ease, Lady Lyndis. Sir Mark has never lost a battle against such trifling odds. I wager that the first thing he asks us when we emerge triumphantly will be, 'What took you so long?'"

Lyn smiled slightly, "Thanks, I needed that."

Just as Athos was about to lead the companions through the doorway, Matthew suddenly spoke, "Wait, we seem to be one short… Where's Guy?"

Hector turned around, "When did he go missing…?"

"I didn't see him during our encounter with the morphs," Cecilia recalled, "Then again, in the heat of the battle, we scarcely had time to notice."

"At any rate, the man isn't craven," Eliwood said, "He must've had his reason."

"A… damn good… reason…"

"The hell?" Matthew whirled around to find Guy bleeding from several long slashes, "What in the gods' name happened to you?"

"Morphs," Guy bit out, "Several of them returned to Dragon's Gate, probably due to Nergal's summons. I took out a trio of swordsmen before the rest tried to jump me."

Legault looked up sharply, "Does that mean the entire army is coming back?"

Everyone knew what Legault's words implied. Should the entire morph army return, there spelled two very obvious results. First, their small group would be insufficient to combat such an army; secondly, Mark's group was defeated in battle.

"I'm not sure," Guy said as he accepted a vulnerary Nino handed him, "I do know that there are at least several dozen morphs headed this way. They'll be at this door in a matter of minutes."

"We cannot stay and give battle," Cecilia said calmly, "So I will have to emulate Sir Mark for a while."

"Cecilia?" Lyn asked.

"Milords, milady, Lord Athos, and Nils," Cecilia said, "Hurry inside and deal with Nergal, we'll hold this door for you."

"You and what army?" Hector asked incredulously.

Cecilia shook her head sadly, "My mentor would be more than willing to die for his comrades. As his student, I would shame his memory if I did anything less. Now make haste!"

Eliwood nodded. Hector gritted his teeth in anger, "Don't you dare die on me, wannabe!" With that the two of them hurtled into the darkness.

Lyn stayed only to say two words, "Good luck." She was followed quickly by Athos and Nils.

"Now," Cecilia said slowly to the remaining five people around her, "How long do you think we can last?"

"Depends on how much they think we are worth. A worthy foe tends to last longer than weaklings, I should think." Legault said as the first morph rounded the corner, "I think the market price for a good blade is around two thousand?"

"Two Elfire tomes at fifteen hundred apiece," Nino added as Jaffar closed the doors.

Matthew said, "Pathetic enemy carcasses pooling at our feet are free." His twin daggers stood naked in the dim light.

"If we pool our freedoms against their pointless existence, that'll balance the scales," Guy began, a fatal blade twirled nimbly across his fingers.

"Everlasting glory to the victors, however," Cecilia finished, "Is priceless."

A familiar sight greeted the five companions as memories concerning their first visit to Dragon's Gate replayed themselves in their minds. The architecture was the same as it was before, the great slabs of marble and stone still sat snugly in their positions, undisturbed by weather or mold. Upon those great stones, hieroglyphics of foreign markings seemed to be even fainter than before. Four titanic towers that stood sentinel over the great stone bridge that led to the Dragon's Gate were lit with an ominous flare that seemed to share the bleakness of the shadows rather than serving to banish them. Bathed in this dark light, the bottom of the stairway revealed the hooded figure of the Dark Necromancer, Nergal.

"So, the brave champions of Elibe stand before me," Nergal sneered, "I see that you are quite few in numbers. I trust you found my welcome hospitable enough?"

Hector smirked thinly, "They were a pain in the ass, but nothing that we couldn't handle."

"As for numbers," Lyn said tranquilly, "Certainly it should be expected. After all, Elibe required 8 Heroes to save humanity from the threat of the dragons. Accordingly, Elibe only needed the five of us to deal with an infinitely more trivial threat such as yourself."

Nergal growled, "Trivial? How dare you call…?"

"Silence," Eliwood's voice curtailed Nergal's indignant reply with ice-cold proficiency, "I lost both Father and Ninian to you, Nergal, and it is time for you to pay off that debt in blood."

"You pitiful scum cannot hope to even harm me," Nergal leered at the group before stopping his gaze upon Athos, "Athos, my old friend, so you have come as well."

"Indeed I have," the Archsage said slowly, "I have come to remedy a mistake. Forgive me, my friend, for I made a grave mistake in the past when we last met."

"Truly now?" Nergal said, "Have you finally seen the futility of such words such as faith and hope? Have you at last come to the rightful conclusion that the pursuit of absolute power is the immortal truth?"

Athos shook his head slowly, "Power is the root of madness, Nergal. The reason I seek your forgiveness is for the blow I dealt you 500 years ago."

Nergal slowly unraveled his turban, revealing the grotesque injury that ran over his right eye, "A trivial matter indeed. This injury taught me the true difference between you and I, my friend. Why apologize when this only served to make me stronger? I learned from this betrayal that friendship and trust were naught by cruel veils for treachery and lies."

"I apologize," Athos repeated, "For only inflicting you with this injury. As your friend, it is my solemn duty to correct you when you've trodden the wrong path. Blinded by our past comradeship, I was unable to exercise the necessary actions to administer your correction."

"And what was that?"

"Death," Athos said, cold fury edging into his voice for the first time, "Had my heart not been blinded by our fellowship at Arcadia, I could've terminated your evil trek into the darkness. If only I was firmer then, so many good lives could've been saved. In that regard, I sorely wished I retained the stubbornness and righteousness of Roland, who would not have hesitated to do what was right. Here I make my amends."

At the last word, Eliwood raised the Durandal in both hands. To his left, Lyn unsheathed the Sol Katti and Mani Katti and assumed a fighter's stance. To his right, Hector picked up Armads in one hand, letting the gigantic ax rest across his shoulders. Athos stood behind the trio, starting to concentrate his magical energies into the two spell tomes that lay at his fingertips.

Nergal's robes billowed outwards as the necromancer unleashed a feral grin at his challengers. A pale, bony hand snaked out of his robes clutching a tome long thought to be lost since the days of the Scouring. Ereshkigal, the ancient druids named it, after the fallen angel that guards the entrance to the Abyss, portal to the graveyard of the devoured souls from the War of the Gods. Limitless innocent lives were sacrificed to appease the demon in order to entice the secrets of the tome's dark magic, appearing in the mortal realm as purple thunder. Though Ereshkigal boasted of considerable power, it was nevertheless inferior to the dreaded force of Apocalypse, the tome wielded by the mysterious Brammimond. The gods alone knew what was used to create such a weapon. Some questions were not made for mortal men to ask.

At Eliwood's signal, the three Lycian lords charged into combat from three different sides. Behind Eliwood, Athos continued to gather his strength for a quick succession of spells to trap Nergal within the trio of weapons.

Nergal, well aware that he could handle any one of the three but not all at the same time, retreated from the encroaching circle. Charging a spell in hand, he quickly launched the orb of shadowy lightning at Eliwood. The Pheraen Lord caught the spell across the Durandal and was hurtled back with a strained grunt.

Not lessening the pressure in the slightest, Hector bound across the distance like an enraged tiger. Slashing a furious blow where Nergal was, Hector conveniently forced Nergal into Lyn's waiting blades. Wielding the Mani Katti and Sol Katti dually, Lyn scored several quick slashes through Nergal's robes. When the necromancer attempted to counterattack, he was forced to backtrack again as a well-timed Forblaze spell splashed upon the stones where he stood but a moment before.

"Miserable worms," Nergal rasped with an oath, "Perish!"

Directing his palms downwards, Nergal unleashed Ereshkigal upon the ground below. Taking advantage of the explosion, Nergal drifted backwards, carried by the draft while Lyn and Hector were obscured in smoke and falling rocks. His victorious smirk died instantly as Nergal noticed his terrible mistake. Ereshkigal had vaporized stone and marble alike, throwing up a dark cloud of debris that severely obscured vision. Nergal was, after all, a magician; magicians were not well equipped to handle situations with limited senses.

"Swift as the howling winds," Lyn's voice drifted through the dense smoke as Hector stormed through the darkness behind Nergal, Armads raised for the kill.

Nergal turned his attention towards him, but Hector's pounding footsteps already told him that the Lord of Ostia was already too close. Gambling on the outcome, Nergal blindly turned around with his hands ready with an Ereshkigal spell. Fortunately, the spell was not a moment too soon. Armads was mere seconds away from cleaving Nergal in half when Ereshkigal splashed against the Legendary Weapon. Flung back, Hector retreated for the moment.

"Fierce as the scorching flame," Lyn's voice continued as Nergal barely caught sight of Eliwood racing towards him out of the corner of his eye. Much swifter than Hector, Eliwood swung the Durandal forward when he was several yards away. Allowing momentum to do the work, the Durandal bit deeply into Nergal's left thigh. Biting back a screech of pain, Nergal was unable to retaliate as Eliwood continued past him into the surrounding shadows.

Even as the rubbish began to clear, Lyn continued, "Illusive as the myriad forests." The Mani Katti came flying, blade first, towards Nergal's face. Nergal raised a hand to intercept the deadly projectile, but his subconscious mind screamed at his mistake. Too late did he notice Lyn gliding in from the opposite direction, Sol Katti aimed for his heart. As he tried valiantly to back away from the trap, Nergal felt a spike in magical power focusing from his back.

Aureola blasted into Nergal with the force of ten burning suns. Light and dark are naturally enemies, each capable of injuring the other more capably than any other element. Athos had refrained from attacking precisely because mages can sense one another's gathering spell powers, which would reveal his location to Nergal.

"Stalwart as the imposing mountains," Lyn finished as the haze finally cleared, revealing the three lords and the Archsage standing around a kneeling Nergal.

"So you think you've won?" Nergal cackled, "Even in my death, despair will come to this world!"

"So be it," Eliwood said darkly as Durandal pierced Nergal's bosom.

As the dark druid slowly sank down in death, the five conquerors noticed a shimmering light gathering in the corpse's robes. Faster than they could react, the remaining quintessence threw itself at the Dragon's Gate itself. The dark door flared to life as monstrous roars filled the cavern.

"Damn," Hector swore as dragons emerged from the Gate, "I assume that is the despair he was talking about."

"A final curse," Athos said, "Should he perish before his goal was attained, any quintessence still available would be used to open the portal."

"There are only three at the moment," Nils piped up, "But more could be coming any minute now!"

Eliwood shook his head, "Even if there are only three, I doubt we can handle them. But we must try!"

One of the dragons raised his head and fired a terrible blast of flame at the quintet. Athos strode forward and raised his arms, shielding the group from the hungry flames. After a few moments, the flames died away, but the shield buckled momentarily afterwards.

"So strong…" Athos panted, "Are we able to handle them?"

"Perhaps I can render a little assistance."

The five turned around to see Brammimond walking slowly towards them. Gesturing slowly, the enigma summoned another person into the area by means of a teleportation portal. Everyone save Athos and Brammimond gasped at the sight.

"Ninian?" Nils asked.

"How is it possible?" Hector said in disbelief.

"Awaken child, and return to this world," Brammimond said, "Recall your past strength and banish these children of fire."

While everyone's attention was fixated on the reviving Ninian, Athos thought he beheld a third figure that remained motionless at the top of the steps leading to the exit. Nils and the lords were engrossed in the resurrection of someone long thought lost and paid no attention to the Archsage.

Ninian's eyes gradually opened, "Where… am I?"

The shouts of joy and relief turned Athos' attention briefly back to the group. By the time Athos redirected his gaze towards the mysterious onlooker, the person was gone. Could I have imagined its presence? It would not be the first time, Athos thought tiredly, Brammimond, what are you plotting? Why burden yourself with the thankless job of returning the Child of Fate? Further thought was cut short as Ninian quite spectacularly obliterated two of the three dragons. Athos suspected that Brammimond had temporarily lent her a part of his powers, but kept silent.

The remainder of the battle passed like a blur for Lyn. First came Ninian's revival and her subsequent thrashing of the two dragons. Then came the last desperate battle waged against a gigantic, scaly, fire-breathing, tough-as-hell, thing that simply refused to die. How Ninian managed to squish two of them at the same time with only one spell was beyond Lyn's comprehension. After Ninian vanquished the two dragons, Brammimond withdrew his support and quitted the field, leaving those who remained to cope the best they could. The weariness displayed in Eliwood and Hector testified to the daunting task they underwent.

With a hoarse battle cry, Hector ended the dangerous battle with one last swing. Hacking deep into the dragon's throat, Hector sprang away as the scaly beast collapsed in a heap before Dragon's Gate. The two lords panted in exhaustion as they leaned against the Legendary Weapons.

"It's finally over," Eliwood gasped as he looked towards Ninian.

"Yeah," Hector agreed as he turned around with a yawn, "I wonder how the others are do…"

"Hector! Behind!"

"Wha-?"

Hector turned around to see a not quite dead dragon bearing its fangs for another molten blast. With no time to dodge, the torrent of flame engulfed the blue-haired lord in an instant. The Ostian closed his eyes to accept his doom.

I'm dead, Hector thought as he cracked open one eye, "Oh, damn…"

Athos held another magical shield in front of the young lord, though clearly the Archsage was on his last dredges. The shield cracked and splintered in multiple areas before shattering a small hole in the middle. A river of fire struck Athos in the chest, throwing the Archsage to his knees. Fortunately, Lyn and Eliwood were able to squeak around the flames and part the dragon's head from its body. Finally dead, the beast moved no more.

"Lord Athos!" Everyone exclaimed.

"It appears… that my time has come," Athos said with a smile, "Forsooth, I have lived for too long as it is. Now I can finally rest in the company of my comrades, where I can dwell without shame."

"Greybeard…" Hector said.

"One last gift I shall impart to all of thee," Athos said haltingly, "Take heed of my warning, Sons of Roland and Daughter of Hanon and Roland. Darkness will enshroud Elibe once more from the east, though hope will spring anew from Lycia…" The Archsage coughed, blood drifting down his pale lips.

"Lord Athos!"

"Nay, it passes, it passes," Athos' eyes widened slightly, "Brammimond, what have you done…? Will you raze the lands of Elibe in attempt to rid Hartmut's Choice?"

Eliwood's eyebrows knitted in confusion, "What?"

"This I bequeath to the three of you," Athos fumbled as he drew out four leather pouches, "One here is for the Daughter of Elimine that remains outside. Open them only in times of great peril…" Athos' voice suddenly changed as he recited four lines,

A thousand years since the last Reckoning,

Unleash the flames of a second Scouring.

Unbent, unbowed, undaunted,

Fear not the wrath of Winter Unending.

"Lord Athos?" Eliwood asked in amazement, but his voice trailed off as she noticed the Archsage was no longer breathing.

"What happened?"

"Cecilia!" Nils exclaimed, "You're alright!"

Cecilia grinned tiredly as she led Matthew, Guy, Jaffar and Nino before Dragon's Gate, "I was counting on the defeat of Nergal would mean the end of the morphs as well. After the morphs dissolved into dust and were blown to the winds, I knew you were success…" Cecilia's eyes widened as she pointed behind them, "Dragon's Gate is opened?"

"Unfortunately so," Hector said grimly, "Nergal opened the gate as Eliwood slew him."

"The gate must be closed from the other side," Nils declared, "And it is time I returned to tell of our journey!"

"'I?'" Ninian asked, "Do you not mean 'we?'"

Nils shook his head, "Ninian, be reasonable. You'll be miserable without Lord Eliwood," he grinned when they blushed, "Stay here and fulfill the dream that our parents dreamt would be possible: where dragons and humans can dwell together in peace."

"Nils…" Ninian said sadly.

"Nils," Eliwood said, "Thank you."

Nils nodded his head in inclination, "Hey people, don't look so glum! I'm a bard, remember? It is my job to sing of great epics and legendary sagas. When I return home, I will have a worthy tale to tell of for generations!" With a merry laugh, the boy leapt into Dragon's Gate, staying only to catch Ninian with his eyes.

"Remember, sister," Nils said in a tone that belied his age, "Our bond cannot be severed by space or time…"

With that, Nils, Child of Destiny, was gone.

The pulsating power of Dragon's Gate faded, and all was quiet.

The morning sun shown over the conquerors as they stepped out of the ruins. Never more to be activated, Ninian had sealed Dragon's Gate, ensuring that the portal would never be opened. However, though the group had triumphed over Nergal and his ambitions, a sour aftertaste lingered in their mouths as they viewed the morning sun. Their quest had started yesterday evening and they finally accomplished their task after an entire night's struggle. The thought that trailed the mind of everyone there was, What of Mark and his brave rearguard?

After spending a candle mark traversing the treacherous terrain of Valor Isle, Lyn and her companions came upon the remnants of the battlefield. Piles of armor, clothing and weapons lay scattered about, a testament to the number of morphs that participated in this battle. Though the actual bodies of the morphs disintegrated with the death of Nergal, their equipment remained behind.

"What a ghastly sight," Matthew commented, "Though I think this was where the primary army made its stand. Mark would know that this area is impossible to defend with a small rearguard."

"Signs of retreat," Legault remarked as he doubled back from his tracking, "It appears that the army is largely intact. The tracks showed a steady train of men and women unhampered by enemy pursuit."

Cecilia nodded, "Which means Sir Mark was able to deter the enemy from pursuing. Based on this, I'd say he deployed his force somewhere between the retreating army and the morphs, though in a more defensible location…" Cecilia was glancing upwards.

"What are you looking at, Cecilia?" Hector asked.

"That," Cecilia paled as she pointed.

The group turned to look towards a small stone hill that was surrounded with empty suits of armor and chain mail. Weapons littered the hillside, along with the carcasses of several wyverns and horses. Upon viewing the top of the hill, Eliwood, Hector, Lyn, and Matthew visibly paled at the sight.

Nino didn't understand, "What are you looking at…?"

"Take a look at the topmost suit of armor on that hill," Matthew pointed.

Guy squinted at the target, "Dull bronze color of an armored knight, I think. Some kind of crest on the chest that looks like an ax crossed with a sword…" Then it hit him, "Crap…"

"Oswin." Hector said as he scrambled up the hill, followed closely by his companions.

When the group reached the top of the hill, the scene was enough to drop their hearts to their stomach. The area, dotted by a small patch of trees in the back, was literally covered in ruined armor and shredded boiled leather. Two hulking suits of armor remained standing, albeit covered in arrows and with half a dozen lances pierced through them. The armor plates had become so worn out throughout the lengthy battle that their thickness was compromised. It was beyond a doubt that both Wallace and Oswin were dead.

The butcher's bill continued to build higher. Draped over several rocks were the mangled corpses of Hyperion and Umbriel. From the state of their injuries, they apparently ran afoul a barrage of magic. Their respective master and mistress were not within sight. A destrier also lay slain near the other beasts. Lowen was found beneath a pile of boiled leather than nearly obscured him save for his distinctive green hair.

The bishop and ax-wielders fared no better. Hawkeye remained on one knee, nearly a dozen swords stabbed into him with another three dozen broken around him. Geitz was lying cold and stiff with a lance through his middle, pinning him to the ground. They were standing to the right of the prone armor knights, trying to ward off a group of flanking foes. Renault lay in a pool of blood surrounded by ax bearing foes that hewn him down.

"Lady… Lyndis?"

Lyn whirled around at the choked voice. Only one retainer amongst all her comrades and friends was allowed to address her full title without suffering her displeasure.

"Kent?"

The Crimson Shield was pinned to a tree with a lance through his right shoulder. Due to the blood that splashed over the tree trunk and another destrier over his left thigh, the group had missed him during their arrival. Without a second to lose, Nino and Cecilia hurriedly tended to the knight's grievous injuries.

"Milady…" Kent gasped as Legault gingerly drew out the lance.

"Kent," Lyn said with tears in her eyes, "What the heck are you doing here?"

"I…" the wounded knight said, "Swore an oath to Lord Hausen… Never to rest or retreat until… Lady Lyndis was safe again in Caelin…"

"You fool," Lyn chided as she wiped away her tears, "You're lucky to survive this with only a lance through your shoulder. Can you stand?"

"With only the right leg?" Jaffar said monotonously.

Everyone save Jaffar and Kent gasped as they saw the wound. Covered by the destrier's carcass, they failed to notice that Kent's left leg was severed below the knee.

"What the hell happened?" Eliwood asked shakily as Cecilia went over the crude bandaging Kent had applied to his appendage.

"We failed to hold the morphs on the plain," Kent reported, "In the mid-afternoon, Sir Drake ordered the majority of the army to disengage and retreat to the Davros. A rearguard remained to stall the enemy until the army escaped."

"Why didn't you all escape?" Nino asked as she poured a vulnerary into the shoulder wound.

Kent grimaced, "Impossible. If the entire army retreated, the morphs would return to Dragon's Gate. Sir Drake reasoned that there was little chance the lords could content with Nergal and several hundred morphs."

"We took too damn long," Hector growled.

"By some miracle of St. Elimine we held out for the rest of the afternoon," Kent continued, "But the defense was swept away at dusk. Caught by surprise, Sir Heath and Dame Vaida were bombarded out of the sky by long range magic. I believe Dame Vaida fell to her death, crushed beneath Umbriel. Sir Heath broke his leg during the tumble down the hillside, and the enemy swept over him."

"That'd explain why we missed Heath on the way up," Guy said dismally, "He fell on the other side."

"Sir Oswin and General Wallace held back the enemy for the better part of a candle mark, but their armor became too… too worn out," Kent faltered from the blood loss, but continued on valiantly, "Lances and arrows penetrated their armor, but they fought on anyways. Sir Lowen and I attempted to aid them, but we were separated by a ballista. It was during the confusion that someone took my shin guard from the side with an ax. In pain, I tugged on the right side of the reins, never guessing that saved my life. A dark magic spell splashed where I was a moment before, the impact killing my horse and throwing me here. A stray javelin pinned me to the tree."

Legault shook his head, "We'd never had made it if Mark didn't make this sacrifice."

"I believe Geitz, Lord Hawkeye, Karel and His Excellency perished when the morphs outflanked us from the right," Kent said, "But I was immobilized and did not see the battle. I could only hear… hear… the screaming."

Lyn winced slightly, but her eyes bore into Kent, "Kent, where is he?"

Kent looked away, "Milady…"

"Where is he?" Lyn screamed, despair in her voice, "Where is Drake?"

"Lyn…" Hector said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Where?"

Kent gulped, "The tide of enemies flooded past General Wallace, Sir Oswin, and Sir Lowen. They passed to my left and I heard Sir Drake challenge them to combat. From our earlier battle during the day, I'd assume he lashed himself to a tree while fighting with a lance in hand. The sounds of battle continued for nearly a candle mark when a dark druid appeared. He strode to the area of battle and began a spell. I turned my head to see the spell launching, but could not ascertain the extent of damage. All I know is…"

"Is…?" Lyn pressed on.

Kent took a deep breath, "The current from the explosion was deafening. All sounds of combat ceased when the spell made contact. I fear Sir Drake may not have…"

Hector, Lyn, and Eliwood did not wait to hear more. The trio sprinted off to the area that Kent described. Lyn, being the swiftest of the three, tore through trail left by the morphs until she stopped, willing her eyes to tell her that the sight before her was a lie.

When Eliwood and Hector arrived, they found Lyn sobbing terribly while beating her fists upon the ground.

Against a great oak tree, a gigantic gouge was formed alongside its fifty foot tall trunk and a discarded lance at its roots. The first fifteen feet of the trough was painted red, with several scrapped pieces of a cloak clinging to the rough bark. To the side of the deep gouge, a dismembered left arm was nailed to the tree by two javelins. Upon seeing the grisly member, Hector began swearing a blue streak while Eliwood looked away as tears streamed down his cheeks.

The hand was gloved in a steel gauntlet forged in the fiery smiths of Etruria. Thought to be lost in the sands of Nabata, Hawkeye had returned the armor piece when the army ventured in quest of the Shrine of Seals. It bore sigil that smote fear into the hearts of those evil and impure of heart.

I will be Death, the hatred and wrath of vengeance.

I shall become the darkness and mystery, the Nameless General of Etruria.

Let my hammer and spear bring despair to every enemy of our country.

The crossed hammer and lance sparkled in the sunlight.

Drum roll please. (waits in vain for the drummer) OK, forget that.

OMG, Hammer of Terrascars is over! (gasp) Well, not quite, there is still an epilogue. Thank you for reading and please review!