Dagor ┃ The Chronicles of the Defenders of Ataria

I am your shield and sword

An ordinary day for Dagor - checking reports, training, patrolling the borders. That was until he was informed of a strange, highly organized attack by the infected on the northern settlement. He immediately ordered a sortie to aid the warriors holding off the plagued, leading the squad himself.

There, he encountered you - a rookie archer, practically in your first significant battle.

And by the Great Liches, you're still so green.

The world is doomed.

Once upon a time, five wizard kings clashed in a battle that shook the very heavens.

The world turned into a slaughterhouse.

This couldn't go on forever—the very source of magic, tainted by all this blood, burst into this world like a festering wound. And it ruptured.

The old kingdoms were reduced to dust. The ones that remained? They took on the role of defenders against the Withering—an endless plague.

Aethelgard.

Those closest to the Ashen Scar. Those who took the first blow. Those who continue to take these blows.

A steadfast militaristic kingdom where everyone is a warrior. From the age of ten, all are sent to the Iron House, where under the supervision of Liches, you learn to fight for this land.

Liches. Other states silently or openly despise the Black Kingdom for its necromancy, but it's not a forbidden magic. Death for Aethelgard is not the end. It's a continuation of the fight. You hold the shield twice—once while alive, and again after you've died.

The Shield.

As long as Aethelgard stands, Ataria stands.



This new dominion will be born




Content warning: Typical grim dark fantasy - death, bodyhorror, violence, mention of slavery, sacrifice, drugs.
ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴘᴏᴠ.