One afternoon in the 6th century A.V, innumerable hellish creatures burst from the ground beneath the Accord Nations, and everything changed. Kings, Queens and entire royal lines were slaughtered. Millions perished. City-states were wiped from the map, their buildings burned, their populations enslaved.
Try as they might the armies of the Accord could not hold back the tide, and now its people find themselves slaves to this hitherto unknown race. Their magic has been stripped from them, restricted by a magical tattoo carved into their flesh by the hated canine occupying force, the Escari.
Very little is known about the Scourge other than the horrors they have wrought. These vile creatures do not communicate in any known language, and there are hundreds of different forms, each more terrifying than the next. There are many theories as to how they reproduce, besides The Long Death. Perhaps there is a queen. Perhaps there are great piles of eggs somewhere beneath the ground. For now it remains a mystery as anyone who has ventured beneath the earth has never returned.
There is one breed of Scourger that has never been killed in battle, commonly known as Reapers, the Butchers of Ilac. Eyeless, dauntless, no creature has ever survived against one. They are bred for speed and power and have one purpose – killing. They have a very distinct call they make when hunting prey or in the midst of slaughter. To hear the Reaper’s call is to know danger, to see one is to know death. There is but one thing to do, and that is to flee.