It was precisely one year ago that Eidolon came to our world of Thyrion. On the evening before his arrival, a rain of fire streamed down from the sky, scorching citizens and buildings alike on the four continents of our fair planet. By dawn the populace was fearful and demoralized, and they fell quickly before the march of Eidolon’s vile Golems. The attack was bold and carefully executed. All four continents had fallen by midday: a sad tribute to the withered resistance of our four mighty nations. Even now I am shamed to think of it.

Now, a full year after the conquest, Thyrion still huddles in a state of constant fear and dread. The conquest has ended, and many humans yet survive–but in these times of trouble, life itself is a meager blessing. Eidolon’s minions overrun the land and kill its populace for sport. The cleverest humans make themselves unobtrusive, avoiding Eidolon’s creatures and attempting little more than to survive. It is under these dreary conditions that I write the manuscript you now hold in your hands.

Legacy of the Serpent Riders

Several hundred years ago, in the time we now call the Age of Dreams, there were rumors of the Serpent Riders. The Serpent Riders were a trio of horrifying demons, wielding powerful magic and commanding vast, formidable armies. They possessed the power to travel from world to world–and everywhere they went, they spread chaos and despair. Their motives were unclear, but their goals were obvious: they wished to possess. That which they could not possess, they strove to destroy. No world was immune, not even our beloved Thyrion.

So went the rumors, but few took heed. Some dismissed them as the ravings of a madman, or as fairy tales told to frighten children. Others disputed the very foundation of the stories, denying the existence of worlds beyond our own. And still others took comfort in obscurity: if other worlds did indeed exist, why should the Serpent Riders trouble themselves with Thyrion?

How naļve, in retrospect, were our great civilizations. The portents were numerous and easily read, but none–not even I, Sage of Mur–gave them more than a cursory glance. And now we have paid for our ignorance, as all that was prophesied has come to pass. The four great continents of our world have been overrun by demonic hordes, their denizens crushed, scattered, and cruelly enslaved.

Our world is, by any measure, utterly lost–and yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. Despite all that I have seen, I assure myself that salvation is yet possible. To this end I write the volume you now see before you. It is a history of the Serpent Riders’ assault on our world, and, hopefully, the counterattack that will free us of their dominion.

At present time, the populace has little fuel for hope. None have risen to challenge the dark armies of Eidolon. Still, I continue to maintain my faith. In dreams and visions I have seen a band of unlikely saviors, a defiant flicker in the darkness that cloaks our world. Who these heroes are, I cannot say–but I shall present my visions in the pages of this chronicle.

My visions, in fact, are our only reason for hope. They suggest an end to Eidolon’s reign, and the possibility of our world’s restoration. Instead of calling this history The Fall of Thyrion, therefore, I have named it The Chronicle of Deeds, after the deeds of unknown warriors that will hopefully save us all. These deeds may never be realized, but I steadfastly maintain that they must–for I shudder to think of the alternative.

-Except Written by: Themedes, Sage of Mur, Quoted by: Dark Warlock

The Serpent Riders

In ages past, the steppe dwellers of Kazul-Mokh prophesied the coming of Eidolon and his brethren. But to understand their stories, one must first understand their view of the universe.

In the steppe dwellers’ eyes, Thyrion is just one of many worlds. The other worlds of our universe appear as stars in the evening sky. By the steppe dwellers’ reckoning, there are precisely one thousand worlds besides our own, each appearing a single brilliant star. But this view of the universe posits many questions. What lies between the stars? What holds each world in place?

According to the steppe dwellers, the universe is filled with a clear but viscous gas known as Aether. The Aether is to the universe what water is to the ocean; it holds the stars in place, and fills the void between them. A great crystal sphere encircles the Aether, preventing it from escaping. Beyond this celestial sphere lies darkness: the very darkness we see when the sun sinks below the horizon. This darkness is an uncharted land of powerful demons and evil spirits, each slavering to crush our petty worlds, but prevented by the great crystal barrier.

The steppe dwellers tell of a brilliant magician who, seeking to travel to distant worlds, fashioned a ship of ironwood and silver to journey through the Aether. When the ship was complete he climbed aboard and sailed into the night, just as a mariner would take to the seas. The journey proceeded smoothly for countless days, but then disaster struck: the ship’s gossamer sails were torn in a great storm of Aether. Unable to steer or otherwise control his craft, the helpless magician watched his ship glide past the brilliant stars he had hoped to visit. Closer and closer loomed the celestial sphere, and the darkness beyond; the magician watched it approach with a mixture of dread and fascination.

Finally, the magical ship collided with the barrier. The vessel’s silver prow punctured the crystal sphere and cracked it open, allowing a trio of demons from the darkness beyond to slip into our universe. Horrified at the tragedy he had caused, the magician worked a final, mighty spell to close the rift, exchanging his life for the power to seal the cosmic barrier. He died quietly in the darkness between worlds, wondering if our universe would survive the terror he had unleashed. He would never know the answer, and neither, yet, do we.

So goes the story. Whether truth or fiction, it remains our best guess as to the origin of the Serpent Riders. Many have dismissed this tale as mere superstition, but I choose to believe it. Why? Just as the steppe dwellers foretold the arrival of the Serpent Riders, they also foretold the trio’s demise. For this reason alone, I fervently hope their prophecies are correct.

D’Sparil
According to the texts of Yavenar the Astromancer, the Serpent Riders’ first attack occurred two thousand years ago, on a remote world whose name is forever lost. This world was a place of dense population and seven mighty nations. The Serpent Riders subjugated the world’s seven great leaders by trickery and guile, for they had not yet attained their full power in this universe, and could not crush the world through forthright aggression. One by one the nations fell, as if by clockwork; their corruption and decayed traditions had left them vulnerable to the Serpent Riders’ deception.

When the seven great nations had been subverted, they were left to fight amongst themselves. D’Sparil, the youngest and weakest of the Serpent Riders, was left behind to act as puppeteer. He gleefully pulled the strings of each nation, pitting former allies against each other, and sending peaceful nations to battle. He planned to continue this cruel game until every nation had collapsed under the weight of war and famine. The two elders, meanwhile, departed. It was their intention to wreak havoc in new and unsuspecting worlds.

Only the Sidhe, a race of heretical elves hiding in the secret places of the world, were left untouched by the Serpent Riders’ poison. Recognizing the threat to their world, the Sidhe elders contrived a mighty spell that crushed the greatest of the Serpent Riders’ armies, leaving behind only a fraction of the mighty horde. But D’Sparil, sensing the source of the magic, retaliated with a storm of pure energy that killed the elders to a man.

In the wake of this great magical battle, with the world apparently withered beyond salvation, a single nameless Sidhe assaulted D’Sparil’s stronghold: The City of the Damned. Using the Sidhe elders’ Tomes of Power, mighty artifacts that enhanced the properties of his weapons, this lone elf scored an improbable victory against the forces of evil. D’Sparil was crushed and his minions killed or scattered. Though merely a shadow of its former self, the world was finally free of the Serpent Riders’ poisonous influence.

Korax
The next target of the Serpent Riders’ wrath was Cronos, a populous human world. Cronos was a land of unification and oppression, where all of humanity bowed to the triumvirate of Legion, Arcanum, and Church. These three institutions controlled every aspect of Cronos, each exerting power over a meticulously defined sphere of influence. As such, Cronos was both disciplined and fragile: by subverting the leaders of these three institutions, the Serpent Riders instantly gained control of the entire world. Zedek, Marshal of the Legion, Traductus, Grand Patriarch of the Church, and Menelkir, Arch-Mage of the Arcanum succumbed quickly to the Serpent Riders’ promises of immortal life.

As before, a single Serpent Rider was left behind once the world was largely enslaved. This time it was Korax, the second most powerful Serpent Rider.

On Cronos there was no such thing as the Sidhe, no secret conclave to expunge Korax’s grand army. But there were three brave souls who fought against Korax’s might: Baratus of the Legion, Parius of the Church, and Daedolon of the Arcanum. Together, these three adventurers fought their way through the twisted realms of Cronos, ultimately defeating the chitinous horror that was Korax. Their victory marked a grand day for all of humanity, once again signaling the vulnerability of the dreaded Serpent Riders.

Eidolon
Eidolon’s power is immense, his grip on our world absolute. Some citizens believe his hellish reign must come to an end, and look to the improbable victories against D’Sparil and Korax for inspiration. But for most, the future is uncompromisingly bleak. Eidolon, the oldest and strongest of the Serpent Riders, is reputedly many times more powerful than his vile brethren. He is certainly aware of the weaknesses that led to the downfall of D’Sparil and Korax, and will do his best to guard himself against similar circumstances. Indeed, he has already taken such measures: in addition to his own troops, he has surrounded himself with the remnants of Korax’s and D’Sparil’s broken armies.

The task at hand is formidable. Whoever challenges Eidolon must destroy his minions on all four continents, then challenge Eidolon himself within his ebon stronghold. The dangers are great, from beginning to end. The dank jungles of Mazaera seethe with giant Scorpions and Spiders, while the pyramids of Thysis are replete with Mummies and dreaded Stone Golems. No less formidable are the horrors lurking in the ruined cities of Septimus, or behind the crenelated walls of Blackmarsh.

Despite all these travails, there is yet another peril: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, who serve Eidolon as generals. Each governs one of the four great nations, and each must be defeated to end Eidolon’s infernal dominion. Can any hero, however powerful, face all these perils and emerge victorious? Only time will tell.

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