The Agor Incursions 20 TA - Current
They were not always a warband.
Before they became a name spoken with dread, the group now called Agor were survivors — the broken, the cast-out, the unwanted from the lands surrounding the Turris Seclusa. Farmers whose soil had turned to ash from volcanic storms. Miners whose towns were swallowed by shadow-creep. Wanderers whose families had vanished to the jungles of Turris Sylva.
They fled to Iron Isle seeking aid.
Iron Isle turned them away.
There was no malice in it — just fear.
Too many refugees.
Too little food.
Too many mouths and not enough sword-arms to protect them.
But desperation, when fed long enough, ferments into hate.
Among them rose a man named Zeksead Konuta — once a city guard, dismissed in disgrace for raising his sword against a noble who mistreated a refugee child. He did not hate Iron Isle’s soldiers. He hated its walls — for choosing who lived inside them and who died beyond.
Zeksead gathered the broken and made them one.
And the one became Agor.
The Mark of Agor
Those who join Agor burn their hand with a deliberate scar — a brand in the shape of an open gate.
The meaning is simple:
The gates that shut us out will someday be forced open.
They are not marauders without purpose.
They do not kill for joy.
They do not raze for coin.
They take what they believe the world owes them.
Food stores.
Medicine.
Ashwood, steel, livestock, scholars, anyone with skill or strength.
When villages surrender supplies willingly, Agor leaves them unharmed.
When villages resist…
The stories spread themselves.
Agor’s Strategy
The move planned by their leader, Zeksead, move like ghosts across the frontier lands — aided by maps taken from failed adventuring guilds, guided by veterans of tower expeditions, bolstered by refugees still trickling out of collapsed settlements.
Rumors say they have recovered Noctis and Ember Arcus Stones, stolen from adventurer caravans — allowing them to:
Blacken the sky for stealth raids
Set fire to fort walls without flame
Bend shadows to conceal battalions
Strengthen armor with volcanic heat
They strike with purpose.
They take everything that sustains life — and then vanish into the wilderness.
The City They Aim For
Iron Isle, capital of the realm, sits at the base of Turris Lux-Ferrum, the Shining Iron Tower.
The city stands not only as the heart of trade, faith, and industry — but as a bulwark against the tower itself.
If Iron Isle falls:
The seal weakens.
The tower cracks.
Ferrus-Luxion awakens in full
—and the angel-made-demon hungers for judgment.
Agram knows this.
And he intends to make the world feel the choices it made.
“They think the walls they built keep them safe.
Let us show them what waits on the other side.”
— Agram Vor, the Gatebreaker of Agor