The Culling of Mor
Early in Lexadian of year 7 AC, a terrible rumbling echoed through the streets of Enorian, followed by a party of raiding undead storming the Landward Gate. Skeletal warriors, ghasts, ghouls, and vampiric sentries descended upon guards and knights alike, their purpose shrouded in mystery. Driven back to the Caverns of Mor, the undead vanished behind a thick veil of sanguineous magic, leaving the Hammer of Dawn unable to pursue into the corrupted depths.
Later that very week, Asheara Silverain intercepted a corrupter within the Temple of the Gods bearing an ominous warning: the vile servants were gathering to assist the undead infesting the Caverns of Mor, and barely had the warning been spoken when a siege descended upon Enorian’s gates. In the following months, terrible tremors shook the Peshwar delta, its echo felt through Enorian’s walls. Undead legions surged forth, seeking to lay waste to the Hammer of Dawn, only to be cut down by Enoriana faithful.
From the murky depths of his impenetrable lair, Yegrit of the Deep Shadow mockingly taunted the warriors of the Dawn, revealing himself as the lich responsible for the raids. After this revelation, Yegrit unleashed a grotesque abomination flanked by skeletal warriors – an amalgamation of flesh crudely stitched together by dark sorcery. The monstrosity rampaged through the Peshwar Delta, searing warriors with burning brands, exuding noxious fumes, and emanating a deadly chill. Worst of all, it turned their own fallen against them, reanimating the Hammera slain allies to fight against their brethren. Despite its monstrous power, the Light prevailed, ripping the abomination apart stitch by stitch until all that remained was tattered flesh and wasted sorcery.
The battle between Enorian and Mor’s forces raged on for more than a year until Captain Jebediah ‘Smiley’ O’Lyryus discovered a narrow breach within the thick veil barricading the mouth of the caverns and slipped through undetected. Upon his return, he alerted Enorian, prompting a swift mobilisation. While the Witchhunters infiltrated the fog-choked tunnels, the Hammera warriors remained outside, guiding them with enchanted amulets and their inner spark. Each Witchhunter had a role to play, working in unison to survive the cursed depths. Some raised shields to ward off the undeada relentless assaults, others mended wounds with sacred restoratives, and the rest ruthlessly carved a path through the hoard, hacking enemies to pieces. Together, they whittled down undead forces, banishing necrotic altars and unravelling the darkness within.
On 13 Dharos, 10 AC, the Hammer of Dawn launched their final campaign against the undead of Mor and the lich Yegrit, determined to end his dark reign once and for all. Spike, the Witchhunter companion of Vanguard Inthirath Karthi stumbled upon a gruesome sight: a blood-drenched pentagram scrawled across the floor, its centre occupied by a lifeless, sacrificial body. A black candle burned eerily at each of the five points, casting unsettling shadows. Recognising its purpose in powering the barrier, Spike unleashed his sapping power, unravelling the sinister energy that bound the unholy relic together. With a final surge, the pentagram exploded in a violent source of dispelled sorcery, making the once impenetrable wall vulnerable to attack.
With the barrier now weakened and vulnerable to attack, Enorian divided its forces to execute a two-pronged assault. The ground team, led by Knight Marshal Sryaen Kavoros, prepared to strike from land while the sea team, captained by Grand Crusader Benedicto Silverain readied their offensive from the water. As each team assembled, Captain Jebediah ‘Smiley’ O’Lyryus delivered the news that Jhura Gallant’s Witchhunter companion Twig, a Kelki sapper was emerging from the caverns and would aid in bringing down the wall. Meanwhile, Keldyr, a Kelki sailor, confirmed that the Dawnbreaker stood ready to launch the naval assault.
Under Twig’s watchful eye and guidance, Sryaen, Xavin, Asheara, Eliadon, Jhura, Eaku, Vrazel, Shara, Sine, Lysaira, and Kalevi worked meticulously, carefully assembling volatile alchemical bombs. With utmost care, they wedged explosives into every crack and crevice they could find along the wall. With every available space packed with explosives, Sryaen struck the fuse and stepped back, bracing for detonation. The blast erupted with a deafening roar, only for an unseen force to smother most of the explosion. A muted shockwave rippled outward, reducing the sound to a fading echo that rumbled throughout the delta.
Yet the wall shuddered.
The coagulated mist that clung to it unravelled, and tendrils of crimson vapour peeled away as the structure groaned under the strain. As the debris settled, a second barrier was revealed – solid, unyielding, its surface etched with glyphs pulsing with defiant energy. Each glyph pulsed in three shifting colours, casting an eerie glow upon the rubble. The ground team stood before the unyielding barrier, uncertainty gripping them as questions swirled.
Aboard the Dawnbreaker, Keldyr informed the sea team that the forge below deck was hot and ready, and its fires were stoked for the task ahead. He said his duty was to keep the ship afloat amidst the chaos ahead and that the rest was up to them. With nothing more to say, he turned and headed to the ship’s wheel, lowering the masts and steering the boat out of Enoriana harbour toward the battle ahead.
Below deck, Benedicto, Meleah, Inthirath, Natliya, Zarranik, Strolgrum, Ayastia, and Urim gathered around the roaring forge and quickly realised their task: crafting explosive payloads to be fired from the ship’s Dwarven bombthrowers. Wasting no time, they formed an assembly line, each taking on a crucial step in the forging process. Molten metal was poured, shaped, hardened, and ammunition rolled out rapidly, though not all attempts made anything more than liquid slag.
Upon arrival, with a single unified cry, the crew scrambled to drop anchor to help hold the Dawnbreaker’s position upon the delta. In short order, other brawny sailors leapt to prepare the Dwarven bombthrowers, transforming the voyaging vessel into an aquatic war platform. With the explosives hefted to each bombthrower, two teams formed at each of the four siege weapons – one loading, one aiming and firing. As tension thickened in the salty air, Benedicto hefted his voice to yell against the wind, issuing the order. In unison, all four weapons fired, unleashing a barrage of spirit-infused shots streaking through the sky and hurtling towards the mouth of Mor.
The spirit-infused munitions struck the wall with a resonant boom, their sacred energy unravelling upon impact. Radiant light surged outward, tendrils of luminous force lashing against the barrier. Cracks splintered through its surface, purging corruption in their wake. Some of the wall’s glowing glyphs flickered and shattered, their energy drained – but many remained. From the ground team, Sryaen quickly relayed the situation to Benedicto, who altered the Hammer’s seaborne attack plans accordingly. With their work unfinished, the sea team rushed back below deck, ready to forge another volley of blessed ammunition.
The sea team launched two more volleys, and each strike drove deeper into the barriera defences. First came the fire-infused barrage, one and all packed with molten fury. Upon impact, they ruptured in searing explosions, unleashing torrents of flame that surged outward. Heat fractures raced across the wall, and fire licked hungrily at the weakened structure, forcing it to buckle beneath the relentless inferno. This was followed by the final barrage: arcane-infused spheres that slammed into the wall, detonating in a blinding explosion. Cobalt brilliance erupted from their cores, rippling outward in shimmering waves that tore away at the wall’s sorcerous bindings. Each pulse carved fractures deeper into the surface, stripping away layers of darkness until the glyph-ridden barrier trembled on the brink of collapse. The final rune flickered, its glow sputtering into nothingness.
Then for a breathless moment, all was still – for but a moment.
A deafening crack shattered the silence. The wall buckled, its fractures spiderwebbing outward as it groaned beneath its failing weight. Suddenly, the barrier collapsed, bringing down an avalanche of ruin that kicked up a choking storm of dust and debris. A path gaped open when the grit finally settled, leading into the darkness beyond. From the darkened depths of torturous Mor emerged a horde of ghouls, Yegrit’s proverbial dogs of war let slip to battle the forces of the Light.
In short order, the lich himself joined the fray. He cast terrible volleys of necromantic energy and shadowy bolts that tore into the crusaders, driving them back and forcing them to strategise before the colossal army aligned against them. With a new plan and the blessing of Accordant Righteousness, the Hammer strode forward to meet Yegrit with renewed confidence and brought the Light’s justice to bear against his undead ilk. Though he mustered vicious bone prisons and summoned soilbound ghouls that dragged Enorian’s soldiers beneath the dirt, Yegrit’s ancient necromancy availed him naught. After a grisly battle, the lich scattered to dark mist, his phylactery destroyed the moment the witchhunters had destabilised the caverns’ vile pentagram.
Empowered by their patrons, the sworn avengers of Righteousness and Heroism strode forth into the caverns of Mor and tore it down with all the fury of the Light’s merciless gaze. As the Dauntless Heroine’s acolytes drowned the cavern in Denan Arloi’s waters, Lightsworn Fire’s inquisitors seized the craven vampire commanders in Mor’s cellar. This fiery prayer obliterated those forces of darkness with sacred pyromancy, filling Sapience with the agonised screech of final judgment. This act abraded their essence, diffusing them across the cosmos for all eternity as punishment for their crimes – an end even those beyond the Cycle cannot deny.
In the aftermath, Captain Jebediah and the witchhunters retreated to rest, and the Hammer of Dawn returned home – victorious, exhausted, and confident in the finality of this bloodied crusade.
Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 19th of Dharos, in the year 10 AC.
