I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO very sorry for not updating for so bloody long, but unfortunately for us all, my mind decided that I forget this whole thing. Fortunately for us all, I ran into the disk (literally) I am writing it on, and continued.
Chapter 3
The Conclave had gathered, and was nearly overfull with members, who had heard rumors of an important announcement to be made tonight, and none were willing wait and be told of what had happened.
The chamber was circular in design, with four sections, three large sections for each of the orders, and a smaller, fourth section for visitors, all were brimming with mages, and the visitors section was full as well. White, Red, and Black robes sat in their sections, the visitors severely intimidated by the concentration of magic users in their midst. Sir Thomas, current leader of the Knights of Solamnia sat next to Lady Crysania, Revered Daughter of Paladine, behind them sat several knights and clerics, a representative of the Qualinesti elves was also in attendance, along with her honor guard. The representatives of the mountain and hill dwarves were here, even a kender was in attendance, though he was given a wide space to sit in. The Silvanesti elves had refused to respond to the invitation, content to wait until their mages returned with the news.
Justarius, head of the Red Robes and Master of the Tower at Wayreth, stood to address those in attendance. The chamber fell into silence, "Greetings to all, and especially to our honored guests," he gestured towards the visitor's section, and bowed his head to them. "I call to order the present Wizards Conclave. We will hear first from Dalamar Nightson, head of the Black Robes." He turned towards the dark elf, and then sat down.
"Thank you," Dalamar said, nodding his head towards Justarius. "Members of the Conclave, honored guests, Revered Daughter," he shifted his gaze to Lady Crysania, "I bring with me most distressing news, news of which I saw fit to summon those who have never had the pleasure of attending this council." Many members of the Conclave were getting agitated, the guests becoming uneasy, both realizing that Dalamar was stalling, making sure they were on the edge of their seats, and it was working.
"As I said," he continued, his face letting no emotions through, "I bare most distressing news."
"Well get on with it!" A white robe called from the back of his section.
"Very well," he paused for dramatic effect, "Raistlin Majere has escaped the Abyss!"
The chamber erupted in shouts, gasps, and yelling, each mage or guest trying to make his voice heard, while Dalamar stood in silence, waiting for order to return, and enjoying himself tremendously.
Eventually, order was restored and Justarius again stood, "Dalamar, why do you bring these lies to the Conclave? Raistlin Majere is dead! The Revered Daughter herself has told us of her god's vision to Caramon Majere."
A voice emanated from the darkness beside Dalamar who very nearly jumped at having something appear beside him, a voice that made the blood of those in the room run cold, "Perhaps her god was lying to her." The blackness stood, and now, those in the chamber could see it was another mage. He was frail, judging by the way his robes fell about him, but the focus of attention wasn't on his frailness, but on the gold tinged skin of his hands. Those hands, which made Dalamar shudder in spite of himself, his right hand rising to his chest. The figure rose up, and removed the hood covering his face, the face of Raistlin Majere.
Complete silence filled the hall, none dared to breath. The silence was broken only when Raistlin doubled over in a coughing fit. Several of each order disappeared, to bring the news to those waiting for it, certain that this was the most important occurrence that would be happening this night. Several of the guests fainted, and those who didn't, certainly looked as though they would have liked to.
Justarius gathered his wits and spoke, "Raistlin Majere? If you are truly him, how did you escape your Queen?" All those that were conscious had the same question on their lips. How had he escaped?
"That question, I'm afraid, will have to be left unanswered," Raistlin replied calmly. Justarius frowned, displeased at not receiving an answer. Raistlin continued, "For I do not know, I was in a deep sleep, one which I have been in most of my time in the Abyss, contrary to popular belief that I was being tortured by the Dark Queen daily." He smirked at those in attendance. "When suddenly I felt a tug on my mind, which soon became an unbearable pull that dragged me forcefully, from my prison. I woke, finding myself in the Tower of High Sorcery at Palanthas, surrounded by the guardians, and found Dalamar kneeling next to me. I asked him if he was also in the Abyss, he asked me how I had escaped, then I passed out again. I had hoped it wasn't a dream, but I have dreamed many times of escaping the Abyss, so I didn't hope, finding myself to be still in the tower when I woke the second time, I knew it was no dream. So, with Dalamar's prompting, I appear before you now, very much alive."
Lady Crysania stood, "Raistlin Majere, you have come back into our realm, what do you intend on doing now?" She asked calmly. Her hands however, were digging into the back of the chair in front of her.
"Revered Daughter, I understand that those in attendance know well of my previous intentions to challenge Takhisis and become a god. Even less of you know that had I not stayed in the Abyss, I would have won!" Raistlin's cough returned and he was forced to wait until he regained control to continue. "But, seeing the inevitable outcome, and from the actions of my twin, I chose to stay, and sacrifice myself for the, greater good." His tone betrayed his feelings, those in the chamber knew he wasn't sincere.
"You still haven't answered my question Raistlin." Crysania pressed.
"Of course, my Lady," he gave her a mock bow, "I intend to travel to Solace, and visit my brother and nephews. I have been away for too long, and I need to make amends. But before, I will have to make a slight detour, I am needed immediately. " The last sentence he spoke so softly, only Dalamar heard him. "So, if there aren't any objections, I shall leave."
Not waiting for any answers, he spoke words of magic, and disappeared from the chamber.
Tasslehoff was busy exchanging items from his pouches with other kender, when the jailer brought a very pretty woman into the 'kender jail'. Just as excited as the rest, he pushed his way to the front of the circle formed around the girl, and was quickly pointing and jabbering with the rest of the kender.
Suddenly realizing what it must be like for this young girl to wake up surrounded by kender, (which wasn't a bad thing, it's just that people didn't like it to happen) Tas started shoving the others back from her, making sure she had some space to breathe.
Tas continued to push the inquisitive kender back for quite a while, unfortunately, one of the group decided it would be fun to make a game of it all, and Tas' efforts had to be tripled in order to combat the prodding fingers. Finally, one of the kender managed to get close enough to 'acquire' an object from the girl's fingers. The unfortunate kender was launched backwards with a flash of blue light, slamming into the cell wall, and did not get up. Therest kender seemed to realize that play time was over, and contented themselves with calling the jailers rude names.
The brutes that lead the charge swarmed all over the beach, their blue painted skin almost created the illusion of water rushing towards the vastly outnumbered Solamnic Knights. Their hooting and war calls only added to that illusion, with no semblance of a formation, their objective was to weaken the opponents so that the Dark Knights could finish them with little effort.
With bravery that would rival only insanity, the Solamnic Knights held formation, and waited for the brutes to smash into their lines.
Tanin, Palin, and Sturm were in formation as well, the two older brothers muttering words of encouragement to each other, and Palin stood behind, deep in the concentration that was vital to casting spells.
Sir Percival leaned over to Sturm and was forced to yell to be heard over the brutes, "You can inform your brother that he can commence his spell casting." Sturm nodded and lightly tapped Palin on the elbow, one of the brothers recently created war signals. Palin lifted his left leg slightly to show he understood, and began chanting the spell that would summon a fireball.
Unnoticed by Palin, Raistlin stood beside his nephew, proud of the power he had achieved. He turned to the oncoming brutes, frowned in displeasure, and also began chanting a fireball spell, but one which was much more potent.
The brutes were close enough that the knights could see the whites of these blue giants eyes, "FIRE!" Sir Llewelyn roared, and all those knights who could fire a bow with any accuracy, loosed upon the screaming brutes. In total, 150 arrows were fired, none missed their marks, it was simply impossible not to hit something in the rushing swarm of bodies. Unfortunately for the knights, not even half that number were felled, or even staggered, the brutes were fueled by pure blood lust, and only those killed instantly were stopped.
Brutes were mere feet away from the defensive line of the knights when both Palin and his uncle completed their spells. Two fireballs, one yellowish orange, and one of pure darkness, flew over the lines of Solamnic Knights and impacted in the ranks of the brutes. The fireball cast by Palin simply incinerated any in its radius and badly burned any outside, the spell cast by Raistlin not only incinerated the brutes, but reincarnated any killed by it as skeletal warriors that began assaulting the brutes from within.
The brutes lack of coordination which usually aided their cause through intimidation, became a weakness that a toddler could exploit. Their deeply religious culture made it easy for the Knights of Takhisis to assume superiority over them. The dark knights insignias on their breastplates led the brutes religious leaders to believe that they were the gods warriors, now, with their own rising from dead and attacking them, and in such tight nit 'formations', the brutes were deeply confused, frightened, and in need of spiritual guidance.
The Knights of Solamnia recognized the disorder, and were quick to exploit it with ruthless efficiency, making use of the confusion to even the odds.
The brutes, in complete disorder were cut down without any raising a hand in defense, almost all had been killed before Sir Percival was able to calm the young knights enough to persuade them that prisoners were just as good as dead enemies.
Justarius of the Red Robes stood in silence, the young acolyte beside him whispering in his ear. "Very well," he waved his hand and the acolyte left his side. "It seems Raistlin has just prevented the Knights of Takhisis from gaining a foothold in our western shore-line.
"He what!" Sir Thomas exclaimed, standing so quickly that his chair skidded backwards. His hand moved unconsciously to his moustache, and he began twisting the end of the right, a nervous habit.
"Yes, Sir Thomas, we are now all in Raistlin Majere's debt. That was the second reason I called all of those assembled here." He looked towards the knights, "The dark knights are a real threat, no amount of sweeping will eliminate that fact. Tanis Half-Elven was right in warning us all that the knights have the greatest chance yet at fulfilling their Queen's ideals. They are totally devoted to Her, and are willing to sacrifice themselves to further their Queen's position." Justarius' voice rose to new heights, "You should know, for you knights are what they have based their entire way of life around."
Sir Thomas looked around, slightly embarrassed by the show of emotion, without the political twisting, it was almost as if he were at home, arguing with knights from abroad about small changes to titles, boundaries, and other trivial matters. It made him realize how stupid it all was. Unfortunately, those ways would never end as long as there was corruption in the ranks of the Solamnic's. He looked at the assembled magi, all held the same fervor in their eyes as Justarius, the same anger towards the knights, both good and evil. Black robe and white were united in a common purpose, the survival of magic. He dropped his head in shame at the antics of the knights, if ever they became united the way the magi were, they would be a terrifying force indeed.
Well folks, that's the end of the latest chapter. And what a chapter that was! Not really the most exciting, but considering this is my first fanfic, and the fact that I get overly involved with the little things in the stories that don't matter at all to the reader and just makes my writing uninteligable, I figure I did pretty good.
Comments? Ideas? I'd like to hear from you.