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Chapter One: Eyes of the Ambitious
'Ambition burns his soul and blood...Onward the path of Chaos...Shall the ambitious foolishly doubt...He may turn upon which he holds dear.' Second of Seven, Chaos' Prophecy.
The raging sun above scorched the parched land that the magus walked. Even in long golden robes, his frail body was considerably cool. No vegetation lived in this desert, not one sign of life had Raistlin seen since that morning. It had dawned early than normal, with less need for the magic of his staff. It was the gods, they haunted his dreams, tortured his body during its wake. He would have revenge, revenge for forsaking one of their own.
Reaching into one of his many concealed pouches, Raistlin brought forth a map he had stolen from that bumbling kender, or as Tas would put it, 'found'. No need to worry about the kender, thought Raistlin, he won't miss this one bit. Sitting upon a dry boulder, he spread the map out upon the ground carefully observing its features. "North, damn it" Raistlin cursed, "I've been going in the wrong direction!" Even after his travels with Tanis and the others, he still couldn't remember where everything was. For all he knew, the city he was searching for could very well be gone.
"Istar," Raistlin whispered as he tucked the map back into its secret pouch. "It's buried beneath the Blood Sea, so I've heard. That's where my quest ends, and my reign begins." Raistlin snickered at his last response. Soon, that was all the motivation he needed. Soon he would be a god, a full god, he couldn't wait; his ambition was pushing him onward.
Eventually, his frail body would go no further; sitting down, he decided to re-read a passage from one of Astinus' books from Palanthas.
'In the temple of the King Priest, they created an arcane pedestal; upon this magic they would place the fate of mankind. To rest for eternity they imprisoned an ancient god of magic, one of the old gods, Majere. To ensure their survival, they disposed of all of Majere's followers, and mages. In the end they thought they did this for the good of mankind, but they all really understood in the Days of Torment. Their ambition gave birth to the power of Chaos in this world. They foolishly acquired and held a spiritual magic artifact called the Graygem, not knowing it housed the most powerful god of them all. Through specified tests and incarnations, their mages have learned that the Graygem and the pedestal hold ancient power. Only if a mage with the true gift, uses the proper words, known only to those who fulfill all seven of the prophecies, will gain access to the most powerful magic ever created, godhood.' Astinus, 0 P.C.
"I must have that power!" Raistlin shouted in rage, "Paladine, neither turning your back to me nor observing me can change the result of my pilgrimage. I will have godhood, and none of you gods can stop me!" Ignoring the pleas of pain from his body, Raistlin continued to trek further and further toward the north, to the Blood Sea. Nothing, not even Chaos himself could prevent him from his goal, he was completely devoid of all emotion; except one, ambition.
Chapter One: Eyes of the Ambitious
'Ambition burns his soul and blood...Onward the path of Chaos...Shall the ambitious foolishly doubt...He may turn upon which he holds dear.' Second of Seven, Chaos' Prophecy.
The raging sun above scorched the parched land that the magus walked. Even in long golden robes, his frail body was considerably cool. No vegetation lived in this desert, not one sign of life had Raistlin seen since that morning. It had dawned early than normal, with less need for the magic of his staff. It was the gods, they haunted his dreams, tortured his body during its wake. He would have revenge, revenge for forsaking one of their own.
Reaching into one of his many concealed pouches, Raistlin brought forth a map he had stolen from that bumbling kender, or as Tas would put it, 'found'. No need to worry about the kender, thought Raistlin, he won't miss this one bit. Sitting upon a dry boulder, he spread the map out upon the ground carefully observing its features. "North, damn it" Raistlin cursed, "I've been going in the wrong direction!" Even after his travels with Tanis and the others, he still couldn't remember where everything was. For all he knew, the city he was searching for could very well be gone.
"Istar," Raistlin whispered as he tucked the map back into its secret pouch. "It's buried beneath the Blood Sea, so I've heard. That's where my quest ends, and my reign begins." Raistlin snickered at his last response. Soon, that was all the motivation he needed. Soon he would be a god, a full god, he couldn't wait; his ambition was pushing him onward.
Eventually, his frail body would go no further; sitting down, he decided to re-read a passage from one of Astinus' books from Palanthas.
'In the temple of the King Priest, they created an arcane pedestal; upon this magic they would place the fate of mankind. To rest for eternity they imprisoned an ancient god of magic, one of the old gods, Majere. To ensure their survival, they disposed of all of Majere's followers, and mages. In the end they thought they did this for the good of mankind, but they all really understood in the Days of Torment. Their ambition gave birth to the power of Chaos in this world. They foolishly acquired and held a spiritual magic artifact called the Graygem, not knowing it housed the most powerful god of them all. Through specified tests and incarnations, their mages have learned that the Graygem and the pedestal hold ancient power. Only if a mage with the true gift, uses the proper words, known only to those who fulfill all seven of the prophecies, will gain access to the most powerful magic ever created, godhood.' Astinus, 0 P.C.
"I must have that power!" Raistlin shouted in rage, "Paladine, neither turning your back to me nor observing me can change the result of my pilgrimage. I will have godhood, and none of you gods can stop me!" Ignoring the pleas of pain from his body, Raistlin continued to trek further and further toward the north, to the Blood Sea. Nothing, not even Chaos himself could prevent him from his goal, he was completely devoid of all emotion; except one, ambition.