The Forging of the Ironguard

Nestled within a region known as the Iron Pass for its highly defensive natural geography, Valeholm was home to a tribal society that, protected as they were by the mountainous terrain, remained free from overt vampiric oppression within the city's granite walls. When other human settlements rallied for war, Valeholm remained isolated from the conflict, unwilling to compromise their relatively pleasant lives for the sake of a futile rebellion.

But when the war came to them, their neutrality meant nothing. Zephon and his cunning spies found a way to infiltrate the Iron Pass and fell upon Valeholm, eager to show these upstart slaves how foolish they were to believe they could hide away. While many humans successfully escaped with their lives, many still were gathered up like cattle and brought to the city's churches, where great fires were lit to consume their sacred structures. The screams of the dying filled the air as civilians and priests alike roasted alive in terrible funeral pyres.

Meanwhile, those who fled across the Great Southern Sea to the hinterlands realized their folly. In refusing to play a part in the war, they had only insured that Valeholm was unprepared to defend itself against a brutal and pitiless enemy. Swearing to never again falter in this way, the survivors pledged themselves to a new tradition, one of fierce battle rather than meek isolation. Looking to the olden legends of the Sarafan as examples, these men christened themselves the Ironguard, swearing revenge upon Zephon and his entire malicious species. Returning to Valeholm's charred remains, the Ironguard began the work of rebuilding what could be rebuilt. Armor was forged and weapons crafted, what building repair could be done was done, troops were prepared for battle. And they swore that in time, even Valeholm's grand bell towers would stand tall once more, their resounding toll a victory call for humankind everywhere.