The Battle of The Godsgrave

The Fall of Ozlith

The needle pricked his skin, sending pain out like a wave that caused his body to stiffen and writhe.
"I'm sorry," Mhirriah began, "I did say you didn't have to do this." she smiled at her husband, and he smiled back. She continued after a time, the name she tattooed over his heart beginning to take form, "I even let you choose your name... could you have made a more controversial choice?" she asked. He puffed with pride, trying to keep his thoughts on the soft silk sheets he laid on as opposed to the pain.
"Probably," he laughed, "but it's fitting, don't you think?" she answered him with an endearing smile, and he continued. "I wasn't born in the empire. Your culture is both fascinating and alien to me. I want to experience it. If not for the people, than for you." It was then that his smile faded. "Mhirriah, are you sure about this, tonight I mean? We don't have to go through with it."
His words carried a weight, and she was silent for a time. Her reply came as she wiped away the final bit of loose ink and blood before sewing the cloth in the skin to cover it.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," she began, "I'm sorry, love. Get ready. I'm told that sewing the Nominubus into the skin is the worst part. This is going to hurt."

— From The Godsgrave

The Battle of the Godsgrave was an attempt to stall an unstoppable force. While Mhirriah, The Warrior Empress, ventured out to collect what fragments of her people had yet to be swallowed by the demonic tide, six of The Seven Centurion Legions of Ozlith stood beside their Living Gods in a confrontation that faded from history to legend, then to myth. The battle took some time to finally have a victor. Some records say it lasted a few short hours, others say it lasted weeks. The truth of the matter is a little more complicated than that. Unknown to even the highest officials in the Church of Mhirriah, the battle never ended, and it did have survivors...

Xiolba's Fall

It begins with Mhirriah's wedding. Her husband was a prince, his true name struck from the record of history for his crimes. He is now known only as The Nameless King. His Nominubus is lost to time. To die nameless is a fate worse than death in Ozlith.

On this peaceful night, a roar and drone woke the sleeping people of Xiolba. The Tree Of Red Light at the center of the city basked in the hues of a rift torn between worlds at the peak of the palace.

The rift led to The Infernum, and from it spewed hordes of demons and devils. It was the first wave in a crusade planned over the course of decades. Most of the population was slaughtered.

The rally

The six remaining legions came home. Even the gods themselves came to see Mhirriah wed, a fact that would decide the fate of humanity. When the rift opened, the legions pushed back, bolstering the city's defenses.

They retrieved the empress, storming the palace. They entered her chambers and found her still sleeping. She opened her eyes and stared in shock, strangely unaware at the events that unfolded just outside her bedroom door. Mhirriah gathered her Guard and her most trusted advisers to guide her next move.

They decided to evacuate the city, and nearly one hundred thousand people gathered outside the city walls. The next wave would arrive soon, picking up where the first left off. The city burned and its people were forced to watch.

The gods then gave Mhirriah a holy task: They would remain and buy time while Mhirriah took her people north, gathering what survivors they could until reaching the promised land. She was given a list of labors. The gods swore on their death that Mhirriah would ascend to godhood if she completed them.

Legacy

The truth's laid out in this story are known to no one in the present day. Rumors and various stories surface and then disappear, each dipping into both fact and fiction. Many ask: "Why did the legions choose to stay behind?"

The reason is simple, the demons were far too many, and despite how skilled the legions were, not one of them knew how to properly defend during a siege. They trained in taking lives, not defending them.

A massive force walking the distance would be slower, forced to fight on unfavorable ground, and would need far more in the way of food and water, something they had precious little of to begin with. The Journal of Mhirriah discusses the issue in depth.