As the Black Star ascended to its zenith, King Novik sat restless on his throne as a howling darkness began to assemble just beyond the Mountain Rise to the East. The Blight came upon us in droves, flooding forth from the Hell Gate with merciless fury. They brought with them a monstrous Titan, the Dreadnought, a beast to rival the stature and menace of even the mightiest Ancestral. The grotesque giant laid waste to all before him, crushing all in his path. This was a total demonic assault, striking at the heart of Argent D'Nur as never before. How was it that the behemoth could pass through the demonic gate without warning? We would never know, though the Night Sentinels believed treason was at play.
Caught off guard, the Sentinels scrambled late in defiance of the Titan and his horde, and with his coming the holy city of Taras Nabad prepared for judgement. With the onslaught of the demons massed in the sprawling shadow of the abhorrent fiend, the city shook to its foundation. None were spared, save those that fled north. The vile swarm ransacked our temples and palaces, burning our towers and feasting on the souls of our clergy.
Yet the Night Sentinels rallied, and held fast against the demons, though they were pushed back and corralled at the Blood Arena. As the dark of night descended their swords remained potent, and shred the enemy multitude with abandon. Amidst the unyielding ranks of the Sentinels, when all other apprentices had fallen in battle, stood the Outlander. 'Rip and Tear' he roared, ferocious in battle. The remaining conscripts of the Arena stood in awe as they witnessed the beast who had once raged within their very cells, now armored alongside the shoulders of Sentinel brethren. He had risen where none other had before, a trueborn Sentinel fighter - the very best among them.
But though the swarm fell before their assault, the Titan remained invincible, for none could tame the behemoth alone.
In the hours before dawn, as the Night Sentinels weathered the relentless assault, the Outlander held his ground at the foot of the great wall in the northern bend of the castle. Seeing his unending vigor, Samur, chancellor to the Mother God, hurried the Outlander away under veil of secrecy and, for reason unknown, submitted him to a rite untold. This was heresy, for Samur received no consent from the Khan Maykr nor did he receive her council. In the Chapel of Purity the Outlander submitted himself to the Divinity Machine. There Samur Maykr, the seraphim known to us only as the aide to the Mother God, blessed the Outlander with fierce speed and power to match his will. It was the method by which this transfusion took place that was most uncertain to us, for we were of the knowledge that the Maykr device bestowed onto the Argenta so many generations ago was to be used by the Priests only to find the impurity among us. How could it be that the device that was meant to cull the Sentinel breed of its contaminants could then be used to purify the Outlander's body, and give rise to the one who would lead us into battle henceforth?
What rose from the holy coffin on that fateful day was not the impure abomination the covenant warned us of; the hero within would come to be known only as the Great Slayer, the time walker, the warrior Khan whose fire-sword would blaze forth a path for the just and cut through the demonic horde with a vengeance that only a God King could summon. He rose unbroken by the Ritual, his eyes burning with Maykr magic. He took the Crucible in his hand, and Wraith-fire leapt forth from the blade, as only it will when held by a true Sentinel warrior king.
In our darkest hour, the Slayer had been chosen. Defying tradition, our most sacred laws and the will of the great Khan herself, a Stranger to our lands had been blessed with celestial might.
