Broken Memories; Forgotten Foes.

[TeaLulu 1783]

 

Furtive in the grey

Our halcyon days

Seem so few

And far away.

 

 

The troubles with the Mage's Guild started long ago. Targeted by the servants of the Betrayer, the Undead, as far back as Aegis. The reasoning was unknown and any among the upper echelon who may have known vanished into thin air until none remained.

 

What the Guild was, and what the Guild stood for, was soon forgotten...

 

 

 

 

It was when the Lich showed her the portal that she was certain. Not the words of Gazadrieal, nor her own theories would make her certain. Seeing was, after all, believing. The land, warped and burnt to the very bone, was still unmistakeable. Familiar. He agreed as well.

 

At last, she had returned home, as had they all.

 

But then there came a conundrum; If they had returned home, then where was he? The question answered itself. An uncovered tomb, an unlocked seal. A fire lit not to be extinguished save 'till it had burned all else away.

 

 

The Guild was in disrepair. A sad state, to be sure, but she could not seem to care before. No, she had let it die once. Why not again? Now she chided those she did not see in the halls. She called a meeting of the Guild; There was little other choice. So malformed and mislead, it simply had to be corrected. The flame was the why. As long as it burned the Guild was necessary. The Guild had use. Purpose.

 

The dwarf was oddly friendly. He had approached first and spoke to her. Unsettled not just due to the shade of his eyes, she played the role of a storyteller once more, and gave him the tale he sought. Curiously, he gave her one as well. The tale of a dwarf named Balin. Balin Griffinhammer.

 

Was he so foolish? Did he not recognize her? Did he think she knew not the name?

 

No. He knew her name.

 

They laughed when the Guildhouse of Sanhar fell. Set ablaze, an entire library burned. They would have done the same to the Tower, had the Arcane Mage's wards not protected it so.

Their attention was not simply on the Guild, no. Now it fell upon Krugmar, so far removed from the Frozen North in which they made their home.

 

Archmage Ceruberr was not the first to fall. She knew this from far too much time spent among them. When they tried to take him she had done what years of meditation and torture had pulled her hand to do. She had not hesitated to send that strike of lightning, that bolt, for his heart as the darkness took him. Death was the only release; He would not have wanted this, she told herself.

A cold comfort.

 

She went to everyone and every place she could think of, to gather allies. Information was the greatest weapon against the Infestation the Undead made of themselves; Smoke out the traitors, set the corrupted alight. Fire.

 

Old enemies would be made friends. What ill reputation some members of the Guild had would be dispelled. She would do this herself, as no other seemed willing or able. Ascended, Clerics, Shamans, Druids and finally Mages.

 

But as much as she saw, the Eye saw more. For it saw her.

 

 

 

 

Once more, the Guild was targeted. They came when they thought none else had. First they set about the portals Archmage Crumena and Elindor had so tirelessly worked to establish; A network across the land, to easily transport not just troops, but information.

 

She heard the shrieks before anything else.

 

And anything else she heard was soon drowned out by an all-too familiar voice.

 

The Prophet. Vex. Mentor, Enemy, Monstrosity, Memory. The voice froze her, dropped her to her knees. The mana she had been preparing to use released in a single violent burst.

 It continued to speak, nothing but a drone.

 

 

She had not time to count the numbers in the hall, nor make note of the markings upon their robes. The shadows came and darkness engulfed her.

 

She took a deep, sharp breath when finally they released her. She opened her eyes only to have them blinded; The heat was maddening, the air poison.

 

The last thing she saw before the shadows shut closed around her was Sin.

 

 

[susitsu 871]

"I'm heading to the Horen's place to have some sauce. Want to come with, Lucas?"

 

Shaking his head, he would say "No...I need to check on something. I think I'll join you afterwards." He would then head off, his usual walking pace rather quick, he would offer no one a moment. A big of a trek, but over-all, not very long. He arrived in the setting sun to see something that meant disaster.

 

The area around the entrance, entirely tainted. He immediately knelt down and wrote a letter to his old friend he had just passed, making a plea that he bring help. Directions were included and a note to hurry. With sending that off, he quickly descended into the Mage's Guild.

 

From here, it was only a struggle. His own weapon, barely under his control, he was faced with an adversary he recognized beneath that dark hood. He struggled, one thing giving him his control. What They left him with when They took his fear.

 

The Rage that only he could control. That which his Shade could not hamper. But in the end, as the High-Prophet he knew the true name of passed him, he could not even act to strike him down. He could only pull his Darkness within to prevent the assault upon him from destroying him. He was held in place by his enemy as he could only fall further and further back against the push of his power.

 

He heard her scream. He couldn't do anything.

 

He saw him take her. He couldn't do anything.

 

He yelled her name.

 

She couldn't even hear him.

 

"We lost..."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.