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Details from the Game Inlay
The Forging of the Sphere
Deep in time, peace lay like a dream upon the Islands of the Western Sea. Proud was the Lord of the Isles on his throne of pearl and jade and amethyst. Tall was his crown, carved from dawngold and jewelled with starlight, long his sword, forged of moonbeams and rainbows and morning mist.
Tranquil year after tranquil year the Western Isles slumbered. Then, on the wings of a winter storm, came ships from the north, tossed and broken by the icy seas. The Lord of the Isles smiled upon the Northlanders, harboured them and gave them shelter.
The came the spring. The ice storms quelled and the seas calmed. The Lord of the Isles offered strong, oaken ships to the Northlanders, yet they chose not to leave, coveting the riches of the Islands of the Western Seas. They drew their swords and demanded land to make homes upon.
The Lord of the Isles smiled no longer. The Northlanders were too many for even his enchanted sword of lightening and dragonsfire to chasten. Hiding his wrath as best he could, he gifted rich farmlands to the Northlanders and warned them to keep the peace and abide within their new domain. Then, in secret, fearing more treachery, he gathered the finest smiths he could muster and bade them forge him a magical sceptre of terrible power.
Five long years passed before the sceptre was finished and with each year the Northlanders grew more bold, demanding more from their benefactor. Finally the smiths came to the Lord of the Isles and handed to him the sceptre they had wrought. He thanked them and gave them ample reward for their long labours. Then he summoned the Northlanders to attend his court.
Two days later, the Northlanders crowded into his throne-room. Once more the Lord of the Isles offered them ships, them time warning them that they would feel his wrath if they did not leave. The Northlanders laughed at him and scorned him, telling him that if he did not take care, they would take his throne as well as his lands.
The Lord of the Isles lifted himself from his throne of pearl and jade and amethyst and stood tall before the scoundrels. then he raised his sceptre high above his head. Suddenly the Northlanders fell silent. Darkness gathered about the sceptre and a shrieking gale rushed in through the doorways and windows, swirling like a hurricane around the Lord of the Isles. Blue lightning flickered across the golden orb at the sceptre's tip and thunder rumbled through the throne-room.
“By the Dark Powers,” cried the Lord of the Isles, “Let the hounds of Hell harry you to the end of time itself! Ara ithim eren Marash!”
Upon his words, the lightning leapt outwards from the sceptre, touching each one of the Northlanders with fire. Their very flesh began to crackle and blaze and they screamed terribly, till it seemed the sound itself must tear out their throats. Despite this, one of the Northlander warlords, maddened with pain, leapt upon the rostrum where the Lord of the Isles stood.
The Lord of the Isles has made a terrible misjudgement. Seeking to destroy the Northlanders utterly, instead he had given them a strange and evil power. The sceptre he had set his smiths to make had touched the Northlanders with its dark force. No longer were they mere men; now they were Lords of the Shadow, gripped by evil and ruled by the Dark Sceptre that had created them. The isles of the Western Sea would know no peace until the Dark Sceptre was destroyed and with it the evil of the Shadow Lords who drank of its power.
# Your Task in Dark Sceptre