This is a story I wrote as part of a competition at the wizard's forum and is in my opinion my strongest dialogue and character development yet.
Note: For those of you who have read my Novel Telspinner's Tale know that the Illior in this story is in no way whatsoever related to the Illior in my Novel.
Hatred – Illior's Story
"and so that horrible wizard, now controlled everyone in the city and he posted guards at every exit from the city, disallowing anyone from leaving". The Old wrinkled mage at the front of the classroom turned the page and the young students dressed in their loose robes hung on the edge of their seats wondering if the story would have a good ending. Only one student in the class wished it would end the other way and sat near the front of the classroom in pitch black robes, he was shorter then the rest of his peers as he was a halfling, his hood hid an unsettling smile. The reader of the story continued on the next page "The evil wizard ordered the walls of the city heightened and strengthened and all the men were forced to work 18 hours a day with so little food that hundreds of the workers died each day. The women were locked in a dungeon if they were lucky enough to be the least attractive. The more attractive women worked as chefs who would cook everything the wizard desired. They made meals so huge that he would eat only a tenth and then throw the rest away to be wasted. The most attractive women he formed a harem out of who were forced to comply to his sexual needs for as long as he remained awake. Every time anyone spoke up against the wizard they were killed in some gruesome way in publish display in front the city's inhabitants by the guards or sometimes painfully fried alive by an intimidating display of his slowest and most painful spells. The churches were burned down and the Cleric's were killed. The wizard had no use for them and believed their magic was inferior and shouldn't be practiced. Other wizards in the city were also killed because he believed they may be the only people who could rise against him. The wizard after a decade extended his rule to the surrounding cities and eventually to cover the entire nation and began arming for wars against the other surrounding nations, thousands of people died in these wars.
The Wizard at the front of the classroom closed the book and waved his hand at them saying "Ok that's enough for today we'll continue this tomorrow". The students who were mostly humans 25-30 in age rose from their chairs and headed out into the fancy marble hallways. The smaller looking one in the black robe was the same age and this was very young for a halfling and looked like a kid to most of the inhabitants of the wizard school. He walked through a maze of exotic hallways until he reached his room '403' reminding him how huge the school was. Inside he dumped his books and parchment onto his bed. His roommate who was also a halfling spoke as he laid down to relax on his bed. "What a horrible story that was today, what did you think Illior?". Illior forced himself back up out of the dreamy comfort he found himself in and looked at his roommate and his bright yellow robe, he hated that color it seemed too him that it's wearer was trying to appear joyful to him. Joy was only fake emotion and he hated those who thought they had felt it. Illior didn't like this halfling very much, he was too much of a study intensive disciplined and boring student. But at the same time he was one of a few halfling in the school who he could relate to better then the humans. Illior thought about Treval's question and imagined himself in the place of the wizard in the story, being the leader of an entire city and being able to do with people as he wished and how better to treat those arrogant stuck-up eighty percent of the damn population humans. He smiled at the thought of slaughtering those clerics' who were the so called embodiment of the god's good will. Who decided on the God's anyway and what had they ever done for him why should clerics be the only people worthy of their intervention. Illior's face screwed up into an angry frown. "Great" he shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the mattress. "By Yondalla , the story was great", his face cringed in annoyance at just having said Yondalla, he hated that, since he was young he had been force to incorporate such words into his speech, his parent leading him to believe that Yondalla or Carl Glittergold or Corellon Larethian was some kind of superior being depending on what race you were. "Great!" repeated Treval in surprise "What do you mean?". Illior stood up and began pacing back and forth in the room with his fists clenched and began pointing at Treval in anger as he spoke. "What is so bad about that story, isn't it simply about a man who did what he wanted instead of following the rules set by uptight Clerics in positions of power who think they are spreading the will of god. Well is the will of god our will, who made the stupid gods what made that person or whatever it was think they had a right to dictate right and wrong?" Illior stopped pacing and stared at Treval with a menacing smile. "What is so wrong about doing what you want and shouldn't people who work hard enough to gain the power to do as they please do so. Those people are simply different and decide not to follow everyone like a mindless flock of sheep. What is so wrong anger, hatred, prejudice and war, it is something that fills the thoughts of everyone only most are to afraid to admit those thoughts. They are labelled as evil even though it floats through the mind of even the most exalted clerics." Treval backed away as Illior was speaking to the other side of the bed so there was some small obstruction between this mad halfling. "Y-Y-y-your crazy and E-evil" Treval stammered. "Am I really?" replied Illior as he stepped around the bed toward Treval until he was so close to him, he had to corner himself against the wall "Or am I just different?" he continued. Illior's mind filled with images of shoving his hand down Treval's thought and casting a simple ray of frost straight into his vital organs. But decided he still wanted a roommate that he could intimidate and bully. One day Illior thought he would kill Treval, one day he would kill every one in this damn school. Or what if he replaced the Master, Illior's dimples wrinkled as a huge smile enveloped his face. Yes, that would be great he thought as he summoned images relating to the story of him torturing the humans in the dungeon classrooms and forcing the students to learn the dark arts or die. This would be his goal he concluded and he would keep his anger under control until the day of retribution. Maybe he could even get Treval to join him in the dark arts.