Mage War

[Angelus]

Deep in the confines of his labratory Cristian sat and worked on his new spell which had not been going well. As he grabbed the components that he needed he felt a shift of power around him. He looked around and thought That's odd, that's never happened before then shrugged it off as if there was nothing wrong. He walked to where his spell was slowly taking place and place some of the components into the brazier in front of it. He pointed his finger at the brazier and thought of the spell he needed which caused the components to catch on fire.

Cristian knew that something was wrong as soon as black smoke began to slowly rise from the brazier. Before he knew what was happening it began to below out of the brazier and engulf him and he found that he couldn't move. He tried to call for his apprentice but found that he couldn't so he looked into the smoke and conjured up a spell which caused the smoke to slowly disappate. He then noticed the figure standing there wearing black mages robes and a smile on his face.

"You, what are you doing here in my tower and how did you get here," Cristian said, looking at the black mage.

"Why uncle. It was fairly easy to get past your pathetic powers into your tower. Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"

"No need nephew. I know why you are here and you can't do it; you have to remember the Moderation. There is no way that one mage can attack another, it is just not done."

The black mage stood there and shook his head, "You foolish person. Don't you know that things have changed and I can do whatever I wish to you."

The black mage conjured up a fireball and threw it at Cristian who just put up his hand and stopped it. He looked at the black mage with shock, this was not possible- why would he attack me. But before he could think of a reason another fireball flew towards his head. He raised his hand again and stopped the fireball while he conjured up another spell with his other hand and threw it at the black mage, causing him to be teleported away from the tower. Cristian thought about where he had sent his nephew and in an instant he was there, looking at the black mage who was raising both hands over his head while looking at his uncle with malice.

Before Cristian could raise a defence he was hit with a powerful force which knocked the wind from him.

 

[Angelus]

Garath

As the lightning flashed through the air around the tower Garath sat on his chair, looked at everyone who was standing before and smiled. He leaned forward and looked at every face, studying them as if he could read their minds. He suddenly moved one hand forward and one of the group moved forward, towards where the dark mage sat. Garath looked at the person that he had brought forward closely and said, "Pathetic."
The person suddenly screamed out as he burst into flames and tried to move but found that it was impossible. All the while Garath watched the unfortunate person with an evil grin. As soon as the person turned into ashes which fell to the floor Garath turned to the rest of the group and said, "I have judged that you are worthy for the cause. For too long we have had to work with the pathetic good mages for the sake of the Moderation that the gods have so graciously given to us but I am sick of it. There is nothing more I would like to do than destroy every good mage- no, everyone that had a good heart and can control some aspect of magic and build a castle on their bones. I know that you feel the same but have done nothing about it so I have come to lead you."
"Why should we listen to you?" one of the mages of the group said, "we can just as easily go out by ourselves and destroy every good magic user."
Garath smiled while looking at the mage seconds before the mage flew backwards and hit a wall at the far end of the hall.
"You could all do that but then the good magic users would just band against you and where would you be. In the same predicament that you are now! What I offer you is power over these lands and then over the gods themselves, for without every person with a good soul to help them who would they turn to."
Everyone gasped at what Garath had just said. It was foolish to go against the gods and they all knew it.
"I know what you are thinking. And you are right, it would be foolish to go against them right now but after we have destroyed this Moderation then the gods would be powerless to stop us."
Everyone shouted out in agreement at the point and Garath smiled while looking up at the ceiling.

He sat back in his chair and laughed, a laugh that was as cold and merciless as the icy wastes to the north. He looked around the room, searching for something but when he could not see what he was looking for he shouted out, "Alic, get in here now!"

A door then appeared in one of the side walls and a strange creature walked into the room. It was obvious that he feared his master because he had seen what had happened to his former friend. His friend had dropped something that was important to the dark mage then tried to apologize but it fell on deaf ears and he was destroyed with a wave of the dark mage's hand, leaving nothing behind but a memory.

He looked up at the dark mage, "Yes my lord; you called?"
"Of course I called you idiot. Now, where is my scrying mirror?"
"I don't know my lord, I think that it is-"
"You are not here to think! You are here to do what I tell you and nothing more. Now, find my mirror, don't say another word and get out of my sight!"
Without another word the creature disappeared through the same door that he had come through which vanished behind him.

Garath sat back in his chair, he was now in a foul mood and needed something to remedy it. He stood and said one word in a language that no one had heard in more than two thousand years and with a flash of light was gone from the room.

He reappeared inside a dungeon that had mages and creatures of every kind in it and walked straight up to a elven mage, looking at him with an evil smile. The elf raised his hands, trying to bring forth a powerful spell to destroy the evil before him but found that he couldn't and looked at his hands in shock. Garath walked forward and said, "Utterly pathetic." before raising one hand.

A bolt of energy flew from his hand and struck the elf in the chest before he knew what was happening. The bolt that had struck the elf suddenly changed color and flew back towards Garath who stood there in pure bliss. When the energy had disappated a younger looking dark mage vanished from the dungeon leaving the rest of the prisoners to huddle around the husk of the elf.

 

[DarkThoughts01]

Lucian sat in his hall of grey stone,and gray paint and gray tapestries.This was Grey Hall,the most nuetral place on the entire planet.Here,time warped and worked at every second at the same time,but somehow stayed in the present.
Lucian was the Grand Gray,the ultimate in nuetrality.HE stepped through Grey Hall,and time parted like a mist around him,as it would do any and all mage who stepped into Grey Hall under the neutrality agreement decreed by all three mage factions.He headed to the left of the hall,opening the door which opened into a small room with a sterile look to it,everything in the same shad eof gray,the room supporting only 2 cots against opposite walls and the door that led into it.
Against one wall on a white cot sat an elder white mage,glaring daggers at a black mage equally old on the otherside on a black cot.
"Terlic Ashemneon of thw White order,and Justin Veshnan of the Black,i have called you both here to explain yourselves.The Moderation has been threatened.Currently the balance is tilted towards Good,as 2,maybe Black Mages have been recorded as dead,while only one White,a young one at that,is dead,jsut as a new Black Mage has been recorded coming into existence.

"I know this because i am the Grand Gray"he stated,not in any way except for fact.His grey eyes stared out emotionlessly as he stood up taller,commandingly in his grey robes,his grey hair and long beard only adding to his look of supreme Wisdom.
"If the balance is not restored soon,the Moderation may force us o enact the Balancing"The two elders looked fearful,,muttering.The Balancing was teh execution of any White or Black mages by a group of the elite Grey,who would then kill themselves to keep the Moderation.

 

[Angelus]

As Cristian lay on the ground and built up the power that he would need for a spell he heard his nephew boasting about how easily he would kill his uncle and thought to himself, How foolish could this youngster be, If he kills me then the Moderation would be out of balance
He tried to place that thought into the mind of his nephew but the black mage just looked at Cristian and said, "Do you think that I care uncle. I don't, I just want to destroy you and take all of your powers."
Cristian was shocked when he heard what his nephew had just said and knew then that there would be no arguing the point with him, this would be a fight to the finish. He quickly got to his feet and looked at his nephew before pointing one finger at him. He shouted out, "Althalis!" and a blue white ball of pure energy flew away from his finger towards the black mage who just stood there with a smile.

The black mage raised his hands in front of him just as the ball of energy got close to him. The ball of energy slammed into the black mage's hand and was stopped by him, shocking Cristian. Cristian's nephew looked at his uncle and said, "You are weak. There is nothing that you have that I can not block."
Cristian didn't answer him he just passed more energy into the ball which caused it to blast through the black mage's defences and into the black mage's chest.

The black mage fell to the ground, a shocked expression on his face. As soon as his body touched the ground there was a loud crack of thunder and a voice ripped into Cristian's mind, causing him to scream out in pain.
"What have you done Cristian.....What have you done!"

Cristian looked up at the sky and said, "But, my lord. I have done nothing more than kill a black mage."
"Wrong. You have done something more than kill a black mage. You have killed your own nephew and thrown the delicate balance of magic out. There is only one way that the balance has to be restored, a white mage has to die."
"No! You can not do that! Why does a white mage have to die because of my mistake!"
When there was no answer from the god Cristian continued, "If you have to destroy a white mage then kill me. I am the one that destroyed the black mage and am at fault."
The god's voice seemed to slam into his head again, "It is done mage. But I do have a gift for you- it is one that you will not want and curse me every day for it but it is the price that you have to pay for causing me to do this. The gift that I give you is that you feel the death of every white mage in the lands."
Before Cristian could speak immense pain slammed into him and threw him to the ground. He felt the pain of the white mage that had been destroyed by the gods to retain the balance and it felt as if it were himself that was dying. As soon as the pain had passed he looked up and screamed out, "Damn you! I don't want this!"
All he got was silence seconds before another voice shouted out, "Master Cristian! Please get up!"
Cristian turned and looked towards the direction of the voice to see his apprentice Ralthus running towards him. When his apprentice stopped running and was standing beside Cristian he looked at him with anxiety.
"Are you alright master. I heard the sounds of a battle going on."
Cristian was about to answer but before he could he stepped back as if hit with an energy bolt and knew that a white mage was in a battle for his life. He looked up at the sky and cursed the gods again.
"Come Ralthus. We have to get to my tower. I have to rest and then think of a way to stop this war that is obviously coming."

 

[The GrandMage]

Dareath of the Black Path

Dareath was a powerful Black Mage. He had risen quickly to power, and easilly learned and mastered spells. His masters had high hopes for the young black mage, and had been staggered to find he had no interest in the ways of the blacks mages, the convoluted politics of the three paths, or the Moderation.

He ignored the other mages, and focused on his studies. Several times now, Mages had come demanding to speak with him, including one very irrate Grey Mage who demanded to see him about the Moderation. The otehrs had left after a few of his activated spells, but the Grey had not left until Dareath had inflicted great pain on him. Although he kept the Moderation in mind, he fully intended to leave the others to deal with it.

He took no apprentices, he killed no mages, and he was still young. Let the others pickl and choose among themselves about how to appease the Gods. As far as Dareath was concerned, the Gods were useless, they demanded much, but gave little. He followed the rules they had set down enough so as not to bring wrath down on his head, but brushed them off as they were, beings corrupted by their own power.

He sat in a simple chair, looking out across the wilderness he had built his tower in. His mind was blank. No thought interrupted him, no sound, and though he looked across great stone and forest, his mind recognized it not. Emptiness. A thought intruded. Frowning, he stood, and reached into a beltpouch, rooting around for a small preconstructed spell.

He turned, and stepped into the small room that was his own, a small bed with walls of bookshelves crammed with volumes of his arts. items ranged across small tables and the floor, some holding spells he had worked long on, sleeping in their preconstructed form for activation, others ingredients for other spells. A few were mere baubles, things that had struck his fancy.

He stepped forward, and looked into a mirror. He frowned again, running fingers through his beard. It had been a while since he had left his tower. Since he had ended his apprenticeship, actually. He ran a finger across the scar across the side of his face. He had gotten it as a boy. He scowled in the mirror. This world was flawed.

But as he had no way to leave it, he was stuck, activating the constructed spell, he disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing near the closest place he could trust a mage to be. He frowned, and sat down, watching the door to the building and waiting.

This place he would not enter.