Galaxy 3: Furnace of Zharrak

Cendra is the first planet of the Furnace, and already the air burns your lungs. Its ground is a crust of ash over an ocean of lava that never sleeps. Miners once extracted red-iron here, the hardest metal in the galaxy. The orcs of Zharrak drove out the miners and took the mines for themselves. They forge weapons there for the dragon lord, tirelessly, for years now. The heat has made them harder, slower, more ruthless. Every slope of Cendra is guarded, every ravine an outpost. Setting foot here means declaring war on the whole Furnace. Command accepts it: the dragon is preparing something, and we need to know what.

The ash crunches under your boots. An axe glows red in the heat haze.

Ravinia is scored with basalt canyons so deep you can't see the bottom. The wind howls there day and night, carrying ash that shreds the sails. The archers of the Furnace have found ground that suits them perfectly. Hidden in the rifts, they see without being seen and shoot without being hit. Three Command patrols went into the canyons. None came out. The orcs act as their beaters, driving intruders towards the firing zones. Ravinia is the lock that protects the forges of Forgia from attacks from space. The only way through is a narrow gorge, watched by a hundred bows. You will have to move fast, strike hard, and never stay in the open.

The wind pushes you into the gorge. On the ridges, bowstrings tighten.

Forgia is a factory planet, entirely devoted to the art of the forge. Its volcanoes are natural furnaces, its rivers of lava assembly lines. A civilisation of craftsmen once shaped the finest armour in the galaxy here. The ogres of Zharrak have taken their place, and now hammer out weapons of war. The forgotten forge, at the heart of the planet, has produced non-stop for ten years. Every blade that comes out of it ends up in the hand of one of the dragon's warriors. Silencing Forgia means depriving the whole Furnace of its steel. But the ogre who runs the forge has never put down his hammer, or left his post. He waits for you among the anvils, in a heat that melts metal.

The hammering stops. In the silence, an ogre slowly turns around.

Magmara has no ground: it is nothing but a lake of lava the size of a planet. Only a few islands of black rock float on it, drifting with the scorching currents. The shamans of the Furnace celebrate the dragon there with rites of fire. They claim to read the future in the swirls of the lava, and they are never wrong. They foresaw your coming, and have prepared their welcome on the islands. An ogre protects them, and archers watch the passages between the rocks. One false step, and the lava swallows a warrior before he can scream. The only way to Petra runs through the middle of the lake, island after island. Command recommends speed: the black rock melts slowly, but it melts.

The heat makes the air shimmer. On the next island, the shamans raise their arms.

Petra is a world of stone, the only one in the Furnace where the lava has set. A basalt bridge links two continents, built by the ancient craftsmen of Forgia. It is here that the dragon lord has gathered the greatest army in the galaxy. Orcs, skeletons, archers, shamans, and even a lesser lich won over to his cause. The army awaits the order to march and sweep over the neighbouring galaxies. Command understood too late what the Furnace was preparing. Only one option remains: strike the army before it breaks camp. The stone bridge is the only place where it cannot surround you. You will be few, they will be countless, and the bridge has only one way out.

The army deploys on the bridge. The ground shakes under the orcs' feet.

Antrum is the moon of Zharrak, so close that it grazes its atmosphere. The dragon lord has stationed his personal guard there, his most loyal ogres. No one reaches Zharrak without being searched, judged and crushed on Antrum. The shamans tend a sacred fire there that has burned since the dragon's first day. They say the fire will go out the day the dragon dies, and not before. The ogres of Antrum have never retreated, and don't know what the word means. They saw Petra fall, and they know you are coming for their master. They are not afraid: for ten years they have been waiting for a battle worthy of them. Getting past Antrum means earning the right to look Zharrak in the face.

The sacred fire lights the cave. Two ogres block the entrance, without a word.

Zharrak is the heart of the Furnace, a planet whose core beats like a heart. It is here that the dragon lord was born, in a lava flow, a thousand years ago. First he slept, then he dreamed, then he decided the galaxy would be his. Cendra gave him iron, Forgia steel, Petra the army, Antrum the guard. He has never left his lair: the galaxy came to him, trembling. His wings cover a valley, and his breath melts mountains. The shamans around him sing his glory and feed his fire. No forged weapon has ever dented his scales. Perhaps a dragon could. Command has staked everything on this battle. There will be no other.

The ground splits open. In the red light, the dragon lord spreads his wings.