Clash of the Titans

"The strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must."- Chief of the great caravan of the lower stepp said during the Clash of the Titans

Titan's rousing
The ground shook and the people of the steppe felt the dread, fear and oddly comforting sense of purpose that accompanies the coming of the stoic Avatar of Jakob. His coming coinciding with the annual gathering of tribes could not be an accident. They saw the signs and knew they must follow wherever it would lead they would follow their god

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In a great rumbling, the Priests of the Golden God's drums exploded in a cacophony as the great golden construct came to live, its faceless visage reflecting their own mortality from its towering height. In awe, they could only bow as the Golden God took its first step into the World, Malachiel's will taken form. They were witnessing perfection.

Crumble of Walls, Crumble of Minds
Every man capable making the march followed The avatar of Jakob into this unknown land. A mystical land of faceless men, shpinixes and gold.

seeing this anchient warhammer weilded with such titanic strength scared even thoughs behind the swing, those infront of it were either flattened or blown away. The inexorable march reached the capital who's walls fell like paper to Jakob and the men poured in most of these men had fought before but very like this. Never had the blood lust and anamilistic surges of ardenaline so totally taken hold of them, the moment the averus curse took hold of the invaders minds the city and it's people's last hope faded. They looted the boundless riches of the city. A nomad would slauter a mother for her family heirloom then his own brother who tried to take it it from him. the army that martched into that city never marched out and it's a good thing there were so few survivers to tell the tale.

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The March of Progress
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Age of ruin
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