Kradar, the Dark Smith.
He is known to none, yet known to all through his works.
He toils ceaselessly within his mountain forge, forging weapons for an extinct people, working for his dead gods.
Every strike of the hammer, Ylem, the Creator, is filled with an undying fury and an unending sense of guilt. Day in and day out, the daemonic forge rings with hammer blow after hammer blow upon metal and stone.
Every day, relics are cast down from the forge, deemed imperfect by the Dark Smith. Then, one fateful day, the forge fell silent. The daemonic bellows were silent for the first time, and the forge was filled with the mad laughter of the Smith, who held aloft his hammer and newest creation, which he deemed perfect.
He then strode into town, clad in his finest armor, wielding his perfect creation that he had dubbed 'Heaven's Claymore'. The weapon radiated a pure, calming light, and all who beheld it were cleansed of any sickness, and absolved of their sins.
The Smith was hailed as a savior, and he became one of the people. He sat with them, talked with them, and drank with them. He felt at peace.
Until he was betrayed.
The Dark Smith was enraged, and destroyed the town. His gleaming armor became stained with the blood of innocents and traitors, and his claymore became a dark and twisted thing. No longer did it radiate purity, and no longer did it absolve men of their sins.
Hell's Claymore had been forged from a pure thing made impure, and had been cooled in blood. The Dark Smith himself took the name Kradar and returned to his forge, resuming his work.
To this day, the daemonic bellows roar, fanning the flames that forge our weapons. His madness now produced things of unparalleled quality, yet they held a sort of madness.
Each relic holds its own form of the Dark Smith's madness. Some hold infinite wisdom and clarity, touched by a hint of insanity, while others cry for blood and vengeance for crimes long since forgotten. Others still simply infect anything nearby with madness, guilt, and thirst for blood that can never be sated.
And yet, some hold kindness and purity. These relics are of exceptional quality, and are untainted by the madness that plagues the Smith's mind.
Yet, there are two relics that sit above the rest, and hold unimaginable power. These are reserved for Kradar's chosen champions, who he believes to be worthy.
The Forsaken's Dusk, as it has come to be known, is a weapon that was cast into the land of eternal darkness. It is designed for the champion of darkness, being a terrible and wicked thing. It embodies everything the Smith has come to despise, inflicting disease and madness, urging its wielder to sink deeper into depravity, and to commit darker and darker deeds. It is always accompanied by a talisman containing all of the souls stolen from creatures enticed by the madness and the whispers of the Dusk. This talisman is known as the Defiled Phylactery.
Its opposite, however, lies in the Ancient's Garden, safe from harm and any who would desire to use it for evil. It has come to be known as Leviathan's Requiem. It is accompanied by a Whisper of Oblivion, in order to destroy the Forsaken's Dusk, to ensure the cycle ends as the champions clash.
Kradar has deemed this the final cycle. He has found his champions, and they will accept Kradar's Challenge, whether they wish to or not. There will not be another cycle. These are Kradar's final champions.
With Kradar's most powerful relics in hand, they will fight for the fate of themselves and all they hold dear.
This was never a story of Good against Evil. This is a story of a god turned servant, and servant turned mad. This is our worlds paying for the mistakes of Kradar and his masters.
There will be no victory. Kradar believes only in the cleansing. The victor decides the fate of his world, and his people, alongside the rest of Kradar's Pantheon of Champions. All else shall be cleansed. Then, only the Pantheon remains, led by Kradar.
Then, dear reader, your world may fall victim to Kradar the Dark Smith.
