History
Many years ago there came to the land a great hero wielding a beautiful holy sword of pure crystal. With him came 6 holy knights clad in the finest white mail. No one knew the name of the hero, he was referred to by all simply as the Nameless or the Nameless One.
The group raised an army of hardy knights and roamed the lands combating evil wherever they happened upon it. Campaigns were waged against the Drow, Trolls, Orcs and many other evil foes who caused misery and terror throughout the land. The Knights were just, however, and after a foe was vanquished, the children left orphaned would be taken in as wards to learn and to follow the path of true righteousness.
For many years the Crusaders (as they had become known) continued their god given mission. Over a period of time, members of the Holy Six, the original captains who came with the Nameless, wearied and died; some of old age some, by the hand of an evil adversary.
After a time, none of the original six remained and had all been replaced by the now adult wards. Together they crushed every pocket of evil uncovered throughout the land and the place was indeed a prosperous and happy place to live.
After a further period of time, targets for the Crusaders to extinguish became fewer and fewer. The army, however, became larger and larger (Less war, less deaths, more and more children and wards coming of age and joining the ranks.) The army was restless and small. Then larger groups began to head out looking for action where none existed. Sadly the battle ready troops more and more frequently would attack caravans and villages on the slightest hint of evil-doing or, more and more frequently, no hint at all.
When news of these misdeeds reached the ears of the Nameless One, he was greatly distressed. The offending crusaders who could be identified were exiled from the order forever. He instantly decreed that the Crusaders would not rest until full atonement for the crimes of these few had been made.
It was decided that the considerable wealth that had been accumulated from countless successful campaigns over the years would be used to construct a mighty temple, where all the sick, injured, and those in need of shelter throughout the realm could come. The vast army turned itself to the construction of the temple rather than war. It was erected in a short space of time and was indeed magnificent.
For years to come, peace reigned and the lands were happy. The Nameless One began to show signs of age, bringing an end to the rumor that he was an immortal.
Meanwhile the new Six were restless.....
Year after year of inaction weighed heavily on them and they were eager for the adrenaline rush only battle could bring. Three of the six decided to set out to explore other parts of the world. During their travels they came upon a great and evil lord, more powerful than even the Nameless. The three betrayed their master, eager for battle, and joined the ranks of this vile hoard. A plot was hatched to attack the stronghold of the Crusaders and one day the traitors lead an army to battle against their former allies.
At dusk, the horde descended. The attack was too much for the Crusaders. Most of them were slain and the temple was razed to the ground. As the temple burned and crumbled the Nameless, old and seriously wounded, made a desperate bid to save the current generation of children. He loaded them on a wagon and slipped away into the night making with all haste for a nearby monastery. Even though the battle was lost the loyal three knights continued to fight to aide the retreat of the few survivors. Only after all were safe did they quietly slip into the night and out of the history books for many, many years.
Just as all seemed secure for the children, a huge rider on a giant black stallion emerged from the bushes next to the path and the horse pulling the wagon reared in terror. It was one of the traitors, the troll. The cowardly beast knew the Nameless one was now no match for him and sought the honor of his slaying. The two locked together in combat, and as mighty as he was, age and injury from the battle preceding meant the old man was soon overwhelmed. With his last ounce of strength, he appealed to the gods to aid him. Suddenly, from the inky skies, a series of bolts of holy fire descended to smite the Troll. He wailed in pain as blow after devastating blow ripped into him. In agony and fury, he lunged forward and cleaved the Nameless One's head from his body. The fiend's time to celebrate his feat was short. He was mortally wounded and collapsed in a gurgling heap in the soft grass beside the trail.
Many years passed and the Three entered into new lives with new names. They wandered from here to there, served different masters but never felt at home. One day, word is heard of a youthful knight performing great acts of heroism for one so young throughout the realm. The Three, reminded of times of old, head to the young man's home town, Aylor, to find out more about his extraordinary deeds. Arriving separately, all drawn by some force, they converge upon the arena where a great tournament is being held. They behold the young knight's prowess in subduing foe after foe but the thing that they cannot ignore is his weapon.
The Sword of the Nameless One!
In seconds, the Three are standing by the youth's side. Staring at the sword, then at each other, memory begins to take effect. Upon questioning on his past, the young man reveals he and a group of orphans were trained as knights by some kind monks at a nearby monastery. They had been told inspiring tales of their forefathers and each sought to follow in their footsteps. Suddenly, the Three realized they were not alone. The children were alive and now young adults. The Crusaders could rise again and the temple could and would be rebuilt! They wept tears of joy and embraced each other, renewing acquaintances after many years apart.
Their exile was over.