The Gates of Ironmere

Long ago, in the twilight of the Age of Crowns, the great fortress-city of Ironmere stood as a bastion of hope against the relentless tide of an empire bent on conquest. Nestled between jagged mountains and shadowed by the towering cliffs of the Fellspire, Ironmere’s gates were said to be unbreachable, forged from enchanted steel and guarded by the finest warriors of the realm. For centuries, the city endured, its banners snapping defiantly in the cold winds. But the day came when even Ironmere’s legendary walls could not hold back the storm.

The enemy arrived in numbers so vast they blackened the horizon, their siege engines rattling the earth like thunder. For seven days and nights, the defenders of Ironmere held their ground, hurling back wave after wave of attackers. At their head stood Lord Commander Caledon Greyshield, a figure as unyielding as the gates he swore to protect. Though he knew their cause was lost, Greyshield rallied his knights and soldiers with a single purpose: to give the refugees fleeing through hidden mountain passes the time they needed to escape. “Let Ironmere’s name be remembered,” he said, “and may our defiance echo through the ages.”

On the eighth dawn, the gates fell. As the invaders poured into the city, Greyshield and his knights made their final charge, their silver armor glinting like stars against the smoke and ash. Legend says they fought to the last man, their blood sanctifying the ground of Ironmere. Though the fortress was reduced to ruins and the conquerors claimed victory, tales of the battle spread far and wide, told in hushed tones around campfires and carved into the annals of forgotten kingdoms. To this day, the Gates of Ironmere remain a symbol of unbreakable courage and the enduring power of sacrifice.