Gallium III, reigning Monarch of the line of Bohdan, King of Walenna, and Sovereign of the peoples of Nortion, had made a very unusual decision. It went against the judgment of his court, his advisers, generals, and allies. What of these attacks on outlying towns and villages, skirmishes along the borders, justified such a response, they argued. The King would be on a fool’s errand, chasing a mad sorcerer the army should just be left to take care of on its own; he was wasting the court’s time and would dishonor the kingdom’s allies; he was seeking glory only to prove himself in the shadow of his father. Yet the King did not budge, and he may have guessed right the threat was too dire and had to be met before it gained more momentum. So in the fall the capital city was halfway emptied as the people, now worried with the prospect of a real war, made their preparations. The largest army the kingdom had assembled in decades marched out, with the royal family at the helm. The decision was made, and the whoever sought to rebel against, or invade the kingdom would be met with concentrated, direct force.
Perhaps surprised not least of all, was Atto Ngoogol himself, who had attracted those vagabonds to raid the countryside, cause carnage and draw out humans to the slaughter, but who did not expect to achieve grander aims against the kingdom yet. Sure, the humans were weak, uncivilized, couldn't even respect the proper name of the ngomish people, and even among his own kind, well, none was excelled at magic and embodied greatness like Atto did, but he didn't expect the battle to be brought forth like this. For it was widely known that King Cedry was not the strategist, not the general, not the leader his father was – he ruled justly and with wisdom over the years, but he was never one to forge a greater empire, to solidify power. With this decision, all of a sudden, instead of months or years of skirmishes and distant battles, the fate of the kingdom would be decided in a single conflict, if the dark wizard could be driven away.
The one undeniable thing about Cedry’s rule, though, was his popularity. And so he rode to battle with the support of all his people, the soldiers of the kingdom eager, every Noble house making the utmost commitment to victory without regard for their own losses, and Walenna’s allies grateful to honor their longstanding treaties of alliance. Alongside the assembled armies of the kingdom were cunning elves, stout dwarves , brave and adventurous fighters from distant lands, and mages from halls of magic half a continent away. All together, the host was double the size of what Walenna’s human army would have been on its own, and perhaps, it was enough.
So the battle commenced as the armies met on the only major road that went anywhere in these borderlands. Ngoogol’s horde seemed fearless, attacked as one organism, under the harsh light of the winter sun just hidden behind the mountains. And in the first few moments the most devastation was wrought, to gain an insurmountable advantage Ngoogol gave it his all early on. He was a master of elemental magic, combined with violent tendencies to terrible effects. While the forces he led were mortal followers after all, that did not stop him from summoning many magical creatures to his side, bound essences from spirit planes, conjurations of magical powers and the stuff of the land itself, and once, by some accident, a creature from somewhere else. Lightning bolts rained up from the ground and boulders shot out of the sky as the human regiments scattered ranks and suffered devastating casualties, though their advantage in numbers was not fully diminished.
As melee broke out Ngoogol’s battle plan continued to survive contact with the enemy. Some of his most crazed and devoted minions managed a flanking attack, with a group of ogre-like, magically enhanced monstrosities that carved through the ranks of the royal guard. Cedry did not budge though, ordered his most experienced general to see to the rest of the battle, and threw himself into the fight. His most loyal advisor, a trusted envoy from the elves who, given their lifespans, had known Cedry for a very long time, stood with him to the death. Yet this moment was not to be one worthy of epic. The King fell, mortally wounded and could not be saved; his son, Prince Vanady fought bravely, but he did not vanquish his foes, did not rally his forces to a decisive rout over Ngoogol. He and his bodyguards barely managed a retreat, escaping the most horrid of the monsters trampling across the field as troops swarmed to bring them down, and he withdrew, gravely injured and bleeding.
All was not lost on the allied side, though. The lines were still holding, the most dreadful magical attacks resisted by those who survived, and the fight pulling through, even if the wizard was still half-flying about, out of danger and casting enchantments and devious tricks. The commanders of men and elves and armies of good hurriedly pondered their course of action. A retreat was possible; the citizens of the nearest towns could prepare for siege, and more help might yet arrive from neighboring kingdoms and allies.
Ngoogol, too, had made a decision however -some cold calculation on the spur of the moment that none other on the field of battle could understand. He had had enough – while the armies before him were in no better shape, no major victory was to be won here, and the kingdom would not yet fall. So he simply abandoned his side, unnatural creatures still running rampant, mercenaries left to fend for their own, even his cult of gnomish warriors now leaderless, and fled.
So there was no clear leadership corps to guide the survivors after the battle. The losses had been heavy – the most experienced generals had fallen, mercenaries and bandits on both sides of the fight were trying to merge into their own groups unnoticed, and no one knew where the crown prince was or what would follow among the nobles of Walenna. Only the elven lords seemed to bestow some order upon the chaos of the battlefield, but besides tending to their own they only had few representatives to advise the surviving humans.
And Ngoogol seemed to be getting away.
It was this last reality that forced some into action. For a sorcerer of his power, raising legions of followers was all too easy. And while his open disdain for the necromantic arts had been a curiosity for a Dark wizard, there was no guarantee Ngoogol couldn’t, in fact, delve into such power in the future, and return as a greater threat.
So it was decided that whomever could be spared, the best men and elves and more from all the allied armies, would be sent immediately to track him down. Some were eager for the mission, others apprehensive, and still others seemed to show up out of nowhere and convince the group that they belonged, that their magical talents or combat prowess were needed to hunt down Ngoogol, even if they seemed shady, untrustworthy characters otherwise.
There was no possibility or reason for the whole armies to follow – indeed, only the bravest, strongest, most heroic or most skilled could undertake this adventure, travel fast enough, rest lightly, and survive the perils. The clerics could provide minor blessings, magical wards and prayers for protection, but everyone knew the real threats had to faced directly with their own strengths. The mountainous terrain they would venture to was hazardous, unforgiving, the land lingering with scars of unknown conflicts from ancient times. Though, there was hope in knowing that Ngoogol was weakened, his magic nearly spent. The few older elven experts advised it was very unlikely Ngoogol had uncovered the lost secrets of teleportation magics, and without his horde of followers would be vulnerable on foot.
In short, he could be defeated if the party acted in haste and in unison. And so you set off.