Chapter 5: Death of an Order
"What is it that separates us from the rest of society? Is it our profound intellect? Is it the fact that we honor such things as knowledge, study, and respect? Or is it the fact that we are the only ones who are unafraid to wield the power that the gods granted us. Unwavering, through hardships, trials and many tests of our very being. We do this to what end? Is it the advancement of society? I think not. Is it for the betterment of the races? Please. It is for self indulging power that we strive for and nothing else. So I implore you, no. I GOD DAMN DEMAND FROM YOU! That your allegiances be clear as of now. That your position in this world, forever more be known. Where do you stand? What in the name of the Abyss do you stand for? Is it life? FREEDOM? FOR THE GODS SAKE MAKE YOURSELVES KNOWN!"
The former head of the conclave looked upon the congregation. A week had passed since the events that lead him here had transpired. No longer did Vingaard Keep stand. Triest had taken Michael to the gates only to be burnt alive by the legion of Renegade mages that awaited him. He fought to his last breath, but to no avail. Triest then took lead of the armies of Andreas and forged ahead, towards the kingdom of Qualinesti.
Now, the former head of the conclave has gathered every mage within a weeks travel. Of every order, of every race. The largest congregation of mages known to history has gathered and only knowing that the fate of Krynn was at stake. That is what was sent to them, which is all they know. The head of the mages himself knows alone. He sits upon a flaming pedestal, above the massed mages, demanding allegiance or death.
"The order of magic, for the longest time has been confined by rules and regulations, set forth by the gods. For time forgotten, this has limited our powers. And after Raistlin's failed attempt at godhood, these restrictions have been felt more so than ever before. I have been given a vision of pure beauty. MY BRETHREN I WILL SHARE THIS WITH YOU! I have found a way to destroy the boundaries, to never again pray to the gods for power and guidance. Our spells will never fail, our powers will grow with our own work, and never be set back. The god of decay, MORGION, has decreed that I be his emissary on Krynn. He shall grant you these powers and more, only you have to join him! AND HIS LEGIONS! You will gain power like you have never before known, and with this power we shall rule a world! First Ansolon, then Taladas! Already Morgion's forces sweep over Ansolon. Already the great knights have fallen to our might. Without the heroes, no one may stop us, no one may defeat us. WE WILL BE VICTOURIOUS!"
Suddenly a voice sounded out from the crowd.
"Victorious you say? Victorious over what though? I charred planet? Leaders of the dredges of Krynn? What is power if we can only use it destroy? What you offer is a curse. You offer power? What of those who do not wish your power? What of those who choose to not join this mighty force? What of us?"
The head of the conclave's rage boiled. His pedestal plunged to earth in a fiery inferno and struck the mage that had spoken out full force, leaving the head of the conclave floating in the air in an apocalyptic blaze!
"WHAT OF YOU? YOUR DESTINY'S END HERE! THEY END NOW! TO STAND AGAINST US IS SUICIDE! I OFFER LIFE TO THOSE WHO CHOOSE IT! I AM YOUR GOD ON THIS DAY! YOUR LIVES OUR IN MY HANDS! BOW BEFORE ME AND SWEAR FEALTY TO MORGION OR DIE WHERE YOU STAND! Forgotten to the ages."
The hundreds of mages gathered stood silent, and suddenly some began to kneel and bow their heads. The head of the conclave smiled a wicked smile and raised his head to laugh! Only to be interrupted by a ball of ice that extinguished the flames surrounding him. He looked upon the congregation and looked into the face of hell.
This day, in ages yet to come, if they were to ever come, was known as the Sundering. Those mages that had knelt and swore allegiance to Morgion immediately began to cast spells of protection and spells of destruction against those who had not! More than eight hundred mages had gathered that day, all of different orders of magic. But on this day only two sides stood. Those who followed the god of decay and those mages who died agonizing deaths.
Few escaped the battle. The victorious mages, destroyed the bodies of the dead, burnt them out of existence. The only real loss on the side of Morgion that day was the former head of the conclave. A wish spell was cast by one of the dying mages. A wish spell that would age him ten years in a few seconds but what is ten years to a dead man? The wish spell condemned the former head of the conclave to eternity in the Abyss, to suffer the fate of Raistlin day after day until time itself ends. A great Red dragon came and lead the new renegade mage army towards Qualinesti, leaving behind only charred earth.... and a few forgotten souls.....
"What is it that separates us from the rest of society? Is it our profound intellect? Is it the fact that we honor such things as knowledge, study, and respect? Or is it the fact that we are the only ones who are unafraid to wield the power that the gods granted us. Unwavering, through hardships, trials and many tests of our very being. We do this to what end? Is it the advancement of society? I think not. Is it for the betterment of the races? Please. It is for self indulging power that we strive for and nothing else. So I implore you, no. I GOD DAMN DEMAND FROM YOU! That your allegiances be clear as of now. That your position in this world, forever more be known. Where do you stand? What in the name of the Abyss do you stand for? Is it life? FREEDOM? FOR THE GODS SAKE MAKE YOURSELVES KNOWN!"
The former head of the conclave looked upon the congregation. A week had passed since the events that lead him here had transpired. No longer did Vingaard Keep stand. Triest had taken Michael to the gates only to be burnt alive by the legion of Renegade mages that awaited him. He fought to his last breath, but to no avail. Triest then took lead of the armies of Andreas and forged ahead, towards the kingdom of Qualinesti.
Now, the former head of the conclave has gathered every mage within a weeks travel. Of every order, of every race. The largest congregation of mages known to history has gathered and only knowing that the fate of Krynn was at stake. That is what was sent to them, which is all they know. The head of the mages himself knows alone. He sits upon a flaming pedestal, above the massed mages, demanding allegiance or death.
"The order of magic, for the longest time has been confined by rules and regulations, set forth by the gods. For time forgotten, this has limited our powers. And after Raistlin's failed attempt at godhood, these restrictions have been felt more so than ever before. I have been given a vision of pure beauty. MY BRETHREN I WILL SHARE THIS WITH YOU! I have found a way to destroy the boundaries, to never again pray to the gods for power and guidance. Our spells will never fail, our powers will grow with our own work, and never be set back. The god of decay, MORGION, has decreed that I be his emissary on Krynn. He shall grant you these powers and more, only you have to join him! AND HIS LEGIONS! You will gain power like you have never before known, and with this power we shall rule a world! First Ansolon, then Taladas! Already Morgion's forces sweep over Ansolon. Already the great knights have fallen to our might. Without the heroes, no one may stop us, no one may defeat us. WE WILL BE VICTOURIOUS!"
Suddenly a voice sounded out from the crowd.
"Victorious you say? Victorious over what though? I charred planet? Leaders of the dredges of Krynn? What is power if we can only use it destroy? What you offer is a curse. You offer power? What of those who do not wish your power? What of those who choose to not join this mighty force? What of us?"
The head of the conclave's rage boiled. His pedestal plunged to earth in a fiery inferno and struck the mage that had spoken out full force, leaving the head of the conclave floating in the air in an apocalyptic blaze!
"WHAT OF YOU? YOUR DESTINY'S END HERE! THEY END NOW! TO STAND AGAINST US IS SUICIDE! I OFFER LIFE TO THOSE WHO CHOOSE IT! I AM YOUR GOD ON THIS DAY! YOUR LIVES OUR IN MY HANDS! BOW BEFORE ME AND SWEAR FEALTY TO MORGION OR DIE WHERE YOU STAND! Forgotten to the ages."
The hundreds of mages gathered stood silent, and suddenly some began to kneel and bow their heads. The head of the conclave smiled a wicked smile and raised his head to laugh! Only to be interrupted by a ball of ice that extinguished the flames surrounding him. He looked upon the congregation and looked into the face of hell.
This day, in ages yet to come, if they were to ever come, was known as the Sundering. Those mages that had knelt and swore allegiance to Morgion immediately began to cast spells of protection and spells of destruction against those who had not! More than eight hundred mages had gathered that day, all of different orders of magic. But on this day only two sides stood. Those who followed the god of decay and those mages who died agonizing deaths.
Few escaped the battle. The victorious mages, destroyed the bodies of the dead, burnt them out of existence. The only real loss on the side of Morgion that day was the former head of the conclave. A wish spell was cast by one of the dying mages. A wish spell that would age him ten years in a few seconds but what is ten years to a dead man? The wish spell condemned the former head of the conclave to eternity in the Abyss, to suffer the fate of Raistlin day after day until time itself ends. A great Red dragon came and lead the new renegade mage army towards Qualinesti, leaving behind only charred earth.... and a few forgotten souls.....