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No one really knows for certain what happened. All that’s truly known is that almost a week later creatures marched out of the empire’s ruins and laid waste to the world.  Clad from head to toe in black armor, silent as a cat’s breath, they spread out corrupting and destroying all they encountered.  The few survivors spoke of an aura around them, of their reflections in water or mirrors turning… ‘wrong’, as the creatures approached. They swore the images grinned at them and whispering of a new King rising in the West, a King who ruled these things and who sought to bring the lands under his dominion. Entire kingdoms fell at their feet and for a time all seemed lost. Only in a last desperate battle did the free people manage to fling them back, scattering their forces and sealing them behind a great magical wall. 


These things would, forever after, be called the armies of the Mirror King and to this day they remain the bogey-men, the night terror and the tall tale horror for every easterner, from youngest child to grizzled soldier.

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