Somewhere beneath Castle Never, early 1372 DR - the Year of Wild Magic
Light!
Heat!
POWER!
The man staggered back at the blinding release of energy from the great crystal before him. The staff went flying from his hand as he fell, landing heavily, his back against the hard rock floor. Lying there he felt a terrifying malaise come over him, sickness, weakness, fear. At that moment he knew he was dying. And for what? It seemed so - so unfair. He wanted to cry out, to rail against the world, but there was no strength left in his throat to cry out with.
And then suddenly there was someone else there. A cowled figure. Hidden in shadow which the light from the crystal somehow failed to penetrate.
"Serve me," it rasped, "and LIVE..."
Gasping away the last breath of his life, what choice did the man have but to accept?
"I serve..." he croaked. And felt life and strength return to him again. Felt power rushing into his pain-wracked form. The mist clouding his eyes, dissipated slowly.
The shadowy figure was, yet, still no more discernible now than before. But the voice was clearly female.
It hissed at him.
"You will serve me well, Maugrim Korothir..."