Spite and Flames
The three men in robes walked the red-haired, golden-eyed spitting girl to the pole. They tied her to the wooden post with ropes and wizardry, ignoring her insults and threats about bringing upon them the wrath of some 'one god' or other. Once the bindings were secured and the gag in place, the men walked away, but not too far.
One of them, a white-robed human in his middle years, with green eyes and almost-hoary auburn air, pinned his unforgiving glare upon the wench and claimed:
"Now you are the chosen of those fickle patrons that once promised to nurture us. Instead, they dared to make me a whiny, stupid, and poorly done clone of my uncle; coerced me into marriage to a hare-brained woman with no personality whatsoever, and made me do things unquestionably Out Of Character. Since you are the representative of their whims on Krynn, you must pay for their sins!" he wheezed.
"Careful, Nephew. Need I remind you to breathe between words?" another man, one in black, injected.
"No, Uncle, you need not," snarled the older man. "Now, hear your punishment, girl. By Paladine's Hat, burn to ashes as they burned my life and dreams! Palin's Pyre!"
The two other men applauded enthusiastically as a great jet of flames sprouted from the man's hands and engulfed the smallish figure. In spite of the power of the spell, however, she didn't die; so tough was the protection the patrons had bestowed upon her.
The man in black that had remained silent, approached the pole and its singed guest, and smiled evilly as Palin took his place by the other black-robed mage. His almond-shaped eyes glinting dangerously, he spoke:
"I was to be a great archmage, the Master of the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas. But your masters transformed me into an exhibitionist, robbed me of my most handsome features, made me behave like a dirty human - sorry, shalafi, I didn't want to imply you were dirty, just the rest of your race - and made a whore for magic out of me."
"And not a nice one, at that," Raistlin murmured with a smirk.
"Shalafi!"
"Yes, yes. You may continue."
"By Nuitari's darkest robes, feel the caress of electricity scorching your fair skin! Dalamar's Lightning Lance!"
His companions cheered as a blinding spear of sparkling blue light crossed the air and hit the girl full in the chest. However, she still didn't die, although her hair became an electrified mess.
The last of the men, the golden-skinned wizard, replaced his elven apprentice.
"For a long time I was the chosen of one of your masters, loved and cherished, but then they made me become a 'mother hen' to a whining, clone-like nephew…"
"Hey…! But no, Uncle, you are right. I said it myself," Palin sighed.
"And abandoned me to my fate, never letting me star again. For this, and for many more wrongs – like never clarifying if I died a virgin, or died at all! – you must suffer like I did."
"By Takhisis' fivefold case of bad breath, let oblivion take you! Raistlin's Sphere of Annihilation!"
"But, shalafi, that spell doesn't exist."
"That's right, Uncle."
"There was a Sphere of Annihilation in AD&D so such a spell must have existed."
"Since it was too powerful, that item was removed," Dalamar explained patiently.
"I'm too powerful too!" the white-haired human huffed, then pouted.
"Of course you are," the elf murmured with a salacious grin.
"Quit it, lovebirds," Palin grumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the scene that was to unfold before him. "We must continue with the bitch burning."
"Ah, yes. As I was saying, I've reinvented the darned spell! So, Raistlin's Sphere of Annihilation!"
A ball of absolute darkness appeared out of thin air and flied unerringly towards Mina. Upon reaching her, the former dearest of Takhisis vanished with a terrified shriek. The sound would have chilled the blood in her audience's veins, but the mages ignored it; being such cold-hearted bastards, they were engaged in a merry dance of joy and victory
Fin.