The Sixth Forgemaster - Dreadforge Rising

[BBEGreaseFire]

The world of Aegis is changing, the Sixth Forgemaster Glazarag Iron-Skin has been named. 
Who now has the strength to stand against the Demon Hordes and the legions of Abominations that pour forth from Nanzonia?
To stand against the power of the Tyrant Nanzo, of the Overseer Cynthia Vanreth?
To stand against the dark forces of the Elder Lich Nidaz, of Ivory, Daughter of Nyx, and of Weaver the Broodmother?

The world of Aegis will burn in the unholy fires of industry, the Dreadwood and all the Forests fall to fuel it and from the ashes a new order will rise.
Nanzonia will drive the infernal engine of industry, with the sword and the spear and the iron fist of the Ogre.
Dammed riverbeds will dry up and famine will plague once fertile land. The very stars will grow dark with smoke from a hundred thousand furnaces.
The mines will be left barren, stripped of all that has value and all that has worth. Night and day Nanzonia will be lit by the forge's frenzied flame.

All those fools who dare oppose us will be destroyed, crushed underfoot by the inexhaustible march of our industrial revolution.
Your villages, towns and cities will be pillaged for what little they have to offer and razed to the ground.
Your people will be enslaved, man, woman and child; put to work laboring in the work camps, in the forests, and in the mines.
Those that die will be put to good use as fodder for our young, and as dark materials for our fleshcrafters.
Too long have you all stood against us, too long have the walls of your cities stood, and too long have we survived on the scraps left for us.

The world of Aegis is changing, and that change starts here in Esshar.
The cities of Osrona, of Galamea, and of the Ebonblooded will be the first to fall.

For soon, the Dreadforge shall rise.

[BBEGreaseFire]

This world of Order should have been content to see us sink between the cracks. To let the monsters of Esshar have their roam, in the dark and the quiet.
But to have intruded upon our solace... Having broken us upon their whims... And for what? Their fear, of what we are? Their fear, of what we might become?
We'll never forgive any of you for what you've done. We'll never forget the oppression wrought by your vanity, pride and hypocrisy. 
Well, no more. This Festival of the Moonlit Eclipse will be our last spent in the dark as a people oppressed.
The fear we once held in our hearts, all the sorrows you've granted us, and the hatred you inspired in us; all will become our guiding light!

Oh Ephialtes, our Eternal Flame of Chaos, mockery of the Divine! How beautiful and terrible you are to behold, Ephialtes! 
Your gross, yellow incandescence shall glut upon our curses, our suffering, and our despair. Devour the old Order, entire!
Nourished by the blood of men, mutant, monster and even the daughter of divinity! Grow dear Ephialtes, nascent ember of the End!
Have your fill of all that the world of Aegis has to offer, and let your body burn bright and brilliant so that your yellow flame may be the fire in our Forge!
In your flames we will birth the weapons to kill the very Gods who want nothing as they watch us suffer, and the God-like men who do their bidding!

The Dreadforge is one step closer to completion, and the flame of chaos burns ready to fill it's furnace.

May the flame of Chaos take the world!