Meanwhile, troops gathered from every corner of the Ageless Kingdoms have pitched a camp at the foot of the Great Northern Mountains. All the major nations are represented here; most notably the Kingdom of Euryarchaeota, whose regent, King Potatismus gazes nervously over the campfire-lit field and the dark caves up in the mountains. He, a direct descendant to Djurmat, the ancient warrior king, knows that the dark enemy is approaching.
Nightfall. The silhouette of the Great Northern Mountains, black against the sky, makes even the bravest of men shiver and clasp their spears and swords tighter... Only a few moments later the first distant sounds of menacing drums are heard from below the ground. Zxhaggarath's army is here! Every man to arms!
As the first dark legions of trolls and other nameless creatures of pure evil rise from the caves and sweep chaotically down the slope, a well-arranged array of steel is awaiting them. The air is filled with warcries as the vast armies of Light and Darkness clash. The knights fight back with honor. Alas, the servants of darkness are many. More and more of them keep coming down from the caves to take the place of their fallen comrades.
All of a sudden a silence covers the battlefield. Terrified, the knights watch the twisted, 20-foot tall figure of Zxhaggarath, the malevolent lord of Blackness, rise from the tunnel. The black sword in his hand makes king Potatismus shiver. He knows that his soldiers will never be able to fight a monster wielding this artifact, the Black Blade of Unholy Power.
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