Fhman
01-11-2004, 12:56 AM
This story was jointly written by Nkari and myself. The idea for the plot and timeline are also from Nkari. It describes how SoF came into being during a turbulent period in Ganareth history. I hope you will enjoy reading it.
“Everything has a beginning and dissolution. Mortal creatures see their life this way, as a long road to be traveled once. But seen through different eyes their lives are simply part of the whole, the universe's continuum and that story never ends.”
Seeing that he had their attention the old elf sat stiffly back in his chair. The light from the glowing crystals set in the room walls cast a light which softened his features somewhat, but could not erase the marks of a life lived long. His face bore living testimony to the passage of time, deep with creases and lines. The creases almost hid the scars which could be witnessed upon that face if you looked closely enough. On some level he reflected, he might have been glad for the camouflage his age provided. But other scars, which no aging could obscure would never heal, for they were deep within him.
Gathering his thoughts he turned to his two companions. It occurred to him again how they looked so terribly young, but then everyone seemed that way to him these days. Doubtless they were merely entering middle age as they had come highly recommended and were accordingly already experienced and proficient wizards.
“But proficiency isn't enough”, he spoke out, picking up the train of his thoughts. “Is it? To know a few trifling cantrips and ista's is one thing, but to know the universes life current in your being, that's to truly know oneself eh?”
Locking his gaze with first one and then the other, he could see confusion in their eyes and smiled inwardly. Perhaps he would teach them what he knew after all. His achievements at least afforded him the luxury of picking who would be his last students. Looking into their minds he saw their thoughts as clearly as if they had writ them large upon the sky in letters of fire. Satisfied he had seen enough, he turned to a low table beside his chair, picking up the slim lead bound book that rested on it. Opening the book he turned again to his companions. “Let us begin.”
The realm of the elves had been invaded more than a century before by the dragons and their allies and the elves had been in hiding ever since. The little resistance that they could put up was never enough, but it gave hope. Coccifera, the mother of animated plants, worked to protect the elves on Neutra’s order, but even under the protection of nature the realm of elves was taken. The little success that the elves enjoyed was led by the magic that was naturally instilled in every elf. They used this pure force to maintain illusions and bog down enemy forces, which were then attacked from afar. There was little hand-to-hand combat that occurred; the numbers of the invaders were too many; and never was there an attack when a dragon was near.
A council of seven ruled the elves at the time. These seven were elected by the people to represent them. All seven had at least a basic proficiency in magic. Two were exceptionally skilled in the art. Three of the elves were rangers of the greatest skill. The other two were masters of logic and craft. The council met every lunar cycle to decide upon a strategy to fight the invaders.
In the year 1432 the two sorcerers made a proposal. For many solar cycles they had worked on discovering the roots of magic. Long they had had suspicions, and now they were confirmed. They discovered that magic had three properties, neutrality, constructive, and destructive. A neutral magic was the medium of the two polars, the other two forms were base. It was with this discovery that the sorcerers began to experiment with constructive and destructive magic. They quickly found that destructive magic was the most effective way to fight the hordes of invaders in their lands...
From Chapter 3 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
A blast of superheated air and steam thundered towards him. The force when it hit wasn't strong and he stood his ground as the waves of steam parted in front of him worrying his cloak into a flapping tail behind him. The steam carried the pungent smells of the marsh, dank vegetation and peat, to his nostrils. He breathed deeply, momentarily masked and disoriented by the steam which enveloped him, obscuring even the sky above.
“Morlin Nengwi don't just stand there,'” came a disembodied voice with a very real note of exasperation in it. “Neutra knows, we haven't time to spare admiring the scenery. Come, we must try this Guldur again.”
The steam was thinning now to reveal the ever impatient shape of his friend and sometimes taskmaster Tyel-Duin, who was at this moment standing with his hands on hips atop a large moss covered rock situated near the edge of the marsh. Morlin sighed heavily and turned his attention back to the task at hand.
“I've cast this spell at least 5 times now. Why must you insist in me getting it exactly the same spot as you chose for the target? This Hjel's Fire will consume anything within thirty paces of it. And that's thirty big paces,” he added after a moments thought.
Tyel-Duin looked even more agitated. He compressed his full lips and looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself and settled for tapping his foot rapidly on the rock beneath him. The effect was as if he intended channel his obvious frustration into the inanimate object where it might somehow dissipate, instead of at his friend. After long seconds in this posture his foot slowed its tapping and his expression softened slightly.
“Morlin, you know full well why we must be deadly accurate. We are the only few who have mastered this magic and Dragoon's forces are almost without limit. We must create the utmost destruction with every spell if we are to have any effect on our enemy’s numbers. Besides you know the council has summoned us before them four days from now. We will need all our skills, both intellect and magic if we stand any chance of convincing the council of our proposal.”
“I still cannot see the council agreeing with you. They are sworn solidly to Templa tel'Quessir. I have heard that many on the council hate even the idea of the new magic. Even if we have the support of many in the city, what good will that do?”
Tyel-Duin's shoulders sagged slightly as though Morlin's words had placed a further heavy burden of truth upon him. He looked again at his friend and after a few moments nodded slightly.
“But we must try. Our race's very survival demands that we fight with every fiber of our being, with every weapon at our disposal. Regardless of the cost we must follow this path to wherever it ends.” Forcing his shoulders straight, he turned back towards the marsh. “Now again. Cast exactly on that stunted tree...”
The proposal they had made however was not to be taken lightly. The elves had a great respect for life. This destructive magic went against the very values of elven society. But the sorcerers knew they had no choice. It was at the council that their kin first rejected their proposal and then exiled the sorcerers. But their resolve didn't waver and as they left the last great elven city they were followed by almost a third of the elven population. They vowed that they would return to their kin when the war was over.
These "dark" elves lived in caves and slept under and in the great trees of the land. They lived in constant battle with the elements and the invaders. The two sorcerers set up a school of magic and there taught magical theory. The warriors set up a school of the physical arts and all elves were trained with the bow and blade. The dark elves fought the numbers of the invaders with guerrilla warfare, and prevailed very slowly. Major guerrilla warfare continued for centuries.
It was in one such foothold that the dark elves gained, the first above ground elven city was constructed over the next five hundred years. Elven craftsmen raised a fortress; a fortress made of stone and metal. This fortress would stand against dragon fire, and from behind its walls and domed roof the resistance would be based. Constructive magic specialists erected protective wards around the citadel, and the masters of destructive magic drove off all would-be invaders. All this time the kin of the dark elves had hidden, and they began to be seen as cowards by the dark elves.
From Chapter 5 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
“Rally, Rally to me all you who can hear. They are breaking through”.
The shout from the guard captain carried even over the thunks and crashes of pitched, mortal struggle. Morlin felt his breath catch in his throat as he heard call for help. Looking about him he saw some soldiers rally to the captain. But too few, too few and stretched so thinly. Turning to his apprentice who stood beside him on this section of the city wall, he barked an order.
“Go summon any reserve you can muster from the second East quad. Tell them our situation is desperate. We cannot hold with this onslaught. The enemy will break through within the hour.”
He watched the apprentice's rapidly receding back for a few moments before turning towards the direction of the captain’s call and running towards the maelstrom of battle. Arriving on the wide parapet of the outer city wall he took a moment to find his breath as he surveyed the scene before him. It was of a nightmare. Dragoon's forces had driven a huge wedge of armored siege towers, supported by dragons, all the way to the city wall. The towers were now so close that the cities large catapults were useless against them, whilst their armor resisted all the elves smaller weapons. Orcs were already pouring from the first two towers, threatening to overwhelm the defenders.
He made his decision; this was not the time for sanya magic. He began casting. A growing spiral of greenish energy began to form above him as he bent the mana to his will. The spiral grew huge and looming over the battle, crackles of reddish lightning flashing in its vortex. Feeling the spell at its zenith, Morlin shouted, his voice booming over the battle.
“No misbegotten rabble of Dragoon shall pass this day. Hold I say and be damned.”
At that moment the channeled, accumulated power broke free towards the invaders. An unworldly green fire smashed into the siege towers to the screams of the orcs trapped within. The fire burned brightly as it seared orc and dragon flesh from bone. Moments later the fire was gone its fuel consumed.
That was all except for one. Morlin looked over the parapet edge to see that one great dragon remained standing unmarked by the destruction around it. Shocked he staggered back from the edge, his thoughts reeling.
“How survives this creature,” he thought? “Only gods and their kin could resist such as was cast.”
Suddenly all around him was bright and he felt a great crushing weight upon him so brutal he could not even cry out before everything faded from sight. Raising it's head towards the sky the dragon made a ululating cry before launching itself into the sky flying away from the city and the crumpled body of Morlin Nengwi.
Later Tyel-Duin came to the site of his friend’s death. He had been on the other side of the city but felt part of his soul die as Morlin had perished. Holding Morlin's crushed and broken body in his arms, he cried for his friend but also for himself for he knew his life would never be whole again. At length he stood and whispered to himself as he looked out over the city walls into the darkening evening sky.
“Pay they shall for Tyel-Duin's anger burns bright this day.”
So distraught was his partner that a foolhardy attack was made into the very camp of the orcs and dragons. The result was a slaughter, on both sides. Two thousand elves perished in the fight, and they took four thousand orcs with them. The last sorcerer himself destroyed twenty-three dragons before falling.
That would seem an end of it but Gothar had noted Dragoon's personal intervention in Morlin's death. While Gothar could not right that wrong, he could facilitate justice for a mortal slain at the hands of one begotten of gods. He guided the souls that had been Morlin and Tyel-Duin towards a future meeting on Ganareth. This time however they would have gathered other like souls to their cause in a fellowship that would eclipse all those preceding it.
It was with the deaths of the two sorcerers that a new council was chosen. It was spread out in much the way of the old council of elves. There was a master of constructive and destructive magic present. One was a master ranger, one a spy of the highest skill. Another was the undisputed master of the blade. One was a craftsman and the final was a merchant. This council however held the same views. "We are the ones fighting, risking our very lives for this land. When this is over they should be exiled, they have no hold here."
The citadel of the dark elves continued to fight for millennia, and it stood against the numerous assaults of the dragons that came. Around the year 6570, two elven babies named Luin Nengwi and Eldarion passed uneventfully into the world. Trailing in their wake, bound to the universes great wheel, the souls of their companions, yet unborn waited to take their place beside them. Gothar's justice had begun.
Finally the immortals returned to Ganareth. When Nekresis, Shakaar, and Skaarelius (3 of the immortals) arrived at the citadel a celebration was thrown. It lasted nine days. The immortals insisted that it end at that time. They left quickly after, but not after taking a few of the dark elves with them. They took the best. Nekresis took two young mages who were proficient in the destructive and constructive arts and trained them in the art of necromancy. Shakaar was followed by six young warriors and trained them in the ways of the paladin, with a twist. These nine would now be hesitant to kill, diplomacy was not always the first option. Skaarelius took but one, and trained him in summoning and illusions. The three immortals carved a citadel far to the north for the training of these elves. Half a century later the immortals, along with their disciples, actively entered into the war and within a century drove the invaders from the land of Neutra. The nine students returned to the citadel that the immortals had carved for them and set up specialist schools there. They took only the most promising of new recruits. At the urging and leadership of the two mages Luin Nengwi and Eldarion, they named their school in its entirety the "Soldiers of Fortune."
After the defeat of the invaders more attention was paid to magic. It was soon discovered that the dark moon provoked the best destructive magic, which was termed "dark magic," and that the light moon provoked the converse. This magic was termed "high magic." Many people wanted to dedicate their lives to either one and few decided that both were worthy of the honor of having their attentions. This minor detail soon evolved into a major issue and the council was split once again. The dark elves were again banished for their views. Hope remained however and far to the north a dark citadel was growing in influence. The Soldiers of Fortune announced that they would remain true to the destructive arts so that when turmoil once again assaulted the land some would be ready to fight. Followers of the dark moon flocked to the citadel.
From Chapter 8 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
Eldarion held his complete attention focused at a single point. Ages seemed to sweep past as he probed the consciousness that was Ganareth, seeking, looking for that tell tale flash. Finally there on the edge of a distant forest, there he could see the soul light of one he knew. Satisfied at finally finding what he sought, he relaxed his attention. Instantly the forest and the Ganareth beneath it vanished from sight and the plain stone room in which he was sitting filled his vision.
Turning to his left he could make just make out the shape of Luin fast asleep in the rooms other chair. There was precious little light in the room, illuminated as it was now only by the dull red embers of the fire and a single guttering candle stub. Eldarion sat for a moment debating whether or not to disturb his companion. A grin formed on his face as he reached out and grasped the sleeping Luin soundly on his shoulder before shaking him sharply. Luin groaned and slowly rolled his head towards the source of his awakening before opening one eye.
“Ugh Eldarion do you know what time it is? I was enjoying my rest not to mention the nicest dream I had...”
“I've found the first one.” Interrupted Eldarion. “It's some distance from here perhaps five days hard south gallop by War Dodo.”
Luin looked unimpressed. “Five days south would put us right in the middle of Cala'Quessir territory by my estimate. I'm sure they will be overjoyed to meet with us once more.”
“We were bound to the fellowship when we entered this world Luin Nengwi. We must fulfill our duty be it hard or easy. Ties of that sort cannot be undone by mere inconvenience. Come let us prepare we can ride out at dawn.”
In the year 6833 a discovery by a gnome led to the creation of the mana fountains. The Soldiers of Fortune with their vast influence acquired one for themselves in the northern lands of the elves. Vuuar, one of two experts on magic managed to secure the building of one fountain in the lands of the dark elves. The other expert was denied his petition for a fountain in the lands of the high elves on the grounds that there was already one fountain in the lands of the elves. The high elves were furious. To them their "dark" brethren had cheated them and they wanted what was rightfully theirs. In the year 6844 a further discovery led to the conversion of mana fountains to either dark or light mana fountains. The dark elves made their fountain one of dark magic. This simply was salt on the wounds of the high elves and they attacked the dark elves.
The war lasted for many years but eventually the dark elves held their land, due in no small part to the mana fountain. The casualties however were enormous. It would be many decades before the elves could afford to even think about another war. None the less the dark elves continued to train their youth in the ways of destructive magic, necromancy, the bow, and the blade. The Soldiers of Fortune continued to recruit the best of the best, and their ranks swelled.
From Chapter 12 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
Luin Nengwi and Eldarion strode across the night cloaked ground with steady measured strides. A light rain fell about them and the rain soaked grassy hillocks made the footing difficult for those who were incautious or in too much of a hurry.
Luin spoke, pointing at the darkness ahead and slightly to his left. “We must be close. I'm beginning to feel another's presence. I always get that feeling when we find one.”
Eldarion nodded and they altered direction slightly to match Luin's prediction. Several minutes later they began to make out the shape of a body lying motionless on the ground. In the dim moonlight it seemed to glow slightly against the dark ground. Closer and they could see that it was a young woman naked and shivering slightly as the cold rain chilled her. She watched them approach but seemed helpless and unable to move or flee.
Luin looked carefully at her. She was slightly built with pale white skin that was sharply contrasted by her long ebony hair. Her dark brown eyes returned his stare and he saw that despite her helplessness her eyes betrayed no fear, only resignation at her fate.
He turned to Eldarion “Another one?”
“Lets find out”, replied Eldarion as he cast the spell of fellowship as he had many times previously. The spell crackled on the women’s prone body like tiny lightening, causing her to close her eyes. A few moments later he nodded “It is our Finora “, he said quietly.
Luin removed a blanket from his backpack and bending down gently wrapped her in it before taking her body in his arms. As he did this the women’s eyes flew open in astonishment. Clearly she had not expected to live through the encounter.
Eldarion smiled “Welcome back to Soldiers of Fortune. Luin Nengwi and I had almost given up hope. You are, I believe the last member of our fellowship to return to us. Now we are united, we will prevail.”
The day would come when they would make their brethren see their error. The Soldiers of Fortune would fight for the right of all people to follow the dark side of the moon. This path was termed dark and associated with evil. But the SoF fought for freedom, and the path to freedom was the dark path.
From Chapter 13 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
The old elf shut the book and placed it back on its former resting place. His two younger companions were silent, still bound up in the world and actions he had described to them. He looked at each of them in turn. Now came the reckoning.
“Now I have told you what came to pass, have you the courage to take the future and make it what it should be? Some of what I did I have cause to regret. It is a luxury the old can afford when the memory of my deeds is no longer raw and bleeding but etched and smooth like an old wound.”
The old elf's gaze bore into each of them in turn like white hot forged steel, but neither lowered their eyes or looked away. Grunting in approval he turned back to glance again at the book sitting on the table.
“Perhaps you will be good students after all. I owe the world that much at least. To teach you as well as I can. Then just maybe you can help bring the world back to rights and an old fool can have his peace.”
He closed his eyes and let the memories of his life spill over him like a great wave. The faces of those he had known and loved. Of the actions made in haste and later regretted. Of great ambitions come to naught and small ideas grown from nothing to dominate. Perhaps it all did make sense. Even the ones he had hurt and those who had hurt him, maybe it was meant to be so. He had seen enough of life to know that such could not be seen in isolation, one life's momentary play in the endless age of the universe.
Sighing deeply he turned back to his new students. “Forgive my reminisces for they come to me often these days. Let us hope they will not hinder my teaching of you too much. Now, let us begin.”
[Edited on 20/1/2004 by Fhman]
“Everything has a beginning and dissolution. Mortal creatures see their life this way, as a long road to be traveled once. But seen through different eyes their lives are simply part of the whole, the universe's continuum and that story never ends.”
Seeing that he had their attention the old elf sat stiffly back in his chair. The light from the glowing crystals set in the room walls cast a light which softened his features somewhat, but could not erase the marks of a life lived long. His face bore living testimony to the passage of time, deep with creases and lines. The creases almost hid the scars which could be witnessed upon that face if you looked closely enough. On some level he reflected, he might have been glad for the camouflage his age provided. But other scars, which no aging could obscure would never heal, for they were deep within him.
Gathering his thoughts he turned to his two companions. It occurred to him again how they looked so terribly young, but then everyone seemed that way to him these days. Doubtless they were merely entering middle age as they had come highly recommended and were accordingly already experienced and proficient wizards.
“But proficiency isn't enough”, he spoke out, picking up the train of his thoughts. “Is it? To know a few trifling cantrips and ista's is one thing, but to know the universes life current in your being, that's to truly know oneself eh?”
Locking his gaze with first one and then the other, he could see confusion in their eyes and smiled inwardly. Perhaps he would teach them what he knew after all. His achievements at least afforded him the luxury of picking who would be his last students. Looking into their minds he saw their thoughts as clearly as if they had writ them large upon the sky in letters of fire. Satisfied he had seen enough, he turned to a low table beside his chair, picking up the slim lead bound book that rested on it. Opening the book he turned again to his companions. “Let us begin.”
The realm of the elves had been invaded more than a century before by the dragons and their allies and the elves had been in hiding ever since. The little resistance that they could put up was never enough, but it gave hope. Coccifera, the mother of animated plants, worked to protect the elves on Neutra’s order, but even under the protection of nature the realm of elves was taken. The little success that the elves enjoyed was led by the magic that was naturally instilled in every elf. They used this pure force to maintain illusions and bog down enemy forces, which were then attacked from afar. There was little hand-to-hand combat that occurred; the numbers of the invaders were too many; and never was there an attack when a dragon was near.
A council of seven ruled the elves at the time. These seven were elected by the people to represent them. All seven had at least a basic proficiency in magic. Two were exceptionally skilled in the art. Three of the elves were rangers of the greatest skill. The other two were masters of logic and craft. The council met every lunar cycle to decide upon a strategy to fight the invaders.
In the year 1432 the two sorcerers made a proposal. For many solar cycles they had worked on discovering the roots of magic. Long they had had suspicions, and now they were confirmed. They discovered that magic had three properties, neutrality, constructive, and destructive. A neutral magic was the medium of the two polars, the other two forms were base. It was with this discovery that the sorcerers began to experiment with constructive and destructive magic. They quickly found that destructive magic was the most effective way to fight the hordes of invaders in their lands...
From Chapter 3 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
A blast of superheated air and steam thundered towards him. The force when it hit wasn't strong and he stood his ground as the waves of steam parted in front of him worrying his cloak into a flapping tail behind him. The steam carried the pungent smells of the marsh, dank vegetation and peat, to his nostrils. He breathed deeply, momentarily masked and disoriented by the steam which enveloped him, obscuring even the sky above.
“Morlin Nengwi don't just stand there,'” came a disembodied voice with a very real note of exasperation in it. “Neutra knows, we haven't time to spare admiring the scenery. Come, we must try this Guldur again.”
The steam was thinning now to reveal the ever impatient shape of his friend and sometimes taskmaster Tyel-Duin, who was at this moment standing with his hands on hips atop a large moss covered rock situated near the edge of the marsh. Morlin sighed heavily and turned his attention back to the task at hand.
“I've cast this spell at least 5 times now. Why must you insist in me getting it exactly the same spot as you chose for the target? This Hjel's Fire will consume anything within thirty paces of it. And that's thirty big paces,” he added after a moments thought.
Tyel-Duin looked even more agitated. He compressed his full lips and looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself and settled for tapping his foot rapidly on the rock beneath him. The effect was as if he intended channel his obvious frustration into the inanimate object where it might somehow dissipate, instead of at his friend. After long seconds in this posture his foot slowed its tapping and his expression softened slightly.
“Morlin, you know full well why we must be deadly accurate. We are the only few who have mastered this magic and Dragoon's forces are almost without limit. We must create the utmost destruction with every spell if we are to have any effect on our enemy’s numbers. Besides you know the council has summoned us before them four days from now. We will need all our skills, both intellect and magic if we stand any chance of convincing the council of our proposal.”
“I still cannot see the council agreeing with you. They are sworn solidly to Templa tel'Quessir. I have heard that many on the council hate even the idea of the new magic. Even if we have the support of many in the city, what good will that do?”
Tyel-Duin's shoulders sagged slightly as though Morlin's words had placed a further heavy burden of truth upon him. He looked again at his friend and after a few moments nodded slightly.
“But we must try. Our race's very survival demands that we fight with every fiber of our being, with every weapon at our disposal. Regardless of the cost we must follow this path to wherever it ends.” Forcing his shoulders straight, he turned back towards the marsh. “Now again. Cast exactly on that stunted tree...”
The proposal they had made however was not to be taken lightly. The elves had a great respect for life. This destructive magic went against the very values of elven society. But the sorcerers knew they had no choice. It was at the council that their kin first rejected their proposal and then exiled the sorcerers. But their resolve didn't waver and as they left the last great elven city they were followed by almost a third of the elven population. They vowed that they would return to their kin when the war was over.
These "dark" elves lived in caves and slept under and in the great trees of the land. They lived in constant battle with the elements and the invaders. The two sorcerers set up a school of magic and there taught magical theory. The warriors set up a school of the physical arts and all elves were trained with the bow and blade. The dark elves fought the numbers of the invaders with guerrilla warfare, and prevailed very slowly. Major guerrilla warfare continued for centuries.
It was in one such foothold that the dark elves gained, the first above ground elven city was constructed over the next five hundred years. Elven craftsmen raised a fortress; a fortress made of stone and metal. This fortress would stand against dragon fire, and from behind its walls and domed roof the resistance would be based. Constructive magic specialists erected protective wards around the citadel, and the masters of destructive magic drove off all would-be invaders. All this time the kin of the dark elves had hidden, and they began to be seen as cowards by the dark elves.
From Chapter 5 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
“Rally, Rally to me all you who can hear. They are breaking through”.
The shout from the guard captain carried even over the thunks and crashes of pitched, mortal struggle. Morlin felt his breath catch in his throat as he heard call for help. Looking about him he saw some soldiers rally to the captain. But too few, too few and stretched so thinly. Turning to his apprentice who stood beside him on this section of the city wall, he barked an order.
“Go summon any reserve you can muster from the second East quad. Tell them our situation is desperate. We cannot hold with this onslaught. The enemy will break through within the hour.”
He watched the apprentice's rapidly receding back for a few moments before turning towards the direction of the captain’s call and running towards the maelstrom of battle. Arriving on the wide parapet of the outer city wall he took a moment to find his breath as he surveyed the scene before him. It was of a nightmare. Dragoon's forces had driven a huge wedge of armored siege towers, supported by dragons, all the way to the city wall. The towers were now so close that the cities large catapults were useless against them, whilst their armor resisted all the elves smaller weapons. Orcs were already pouring from the first two towers, threatening to overwhelm the defenders.
He made his decision; this was not the time for sanya magic. He began casting. A growing spiral of greenish energy began to form above him as he bent the mana to his will. The spiral grew huge and looming over the battle, crackles of reddish lightning flashing in its vortex. Feeling the spell at its zenith, Morlin shouted, his voice booming over the battle.
“No misbegotten rabble of Dragoon shall pass this day. Hold I say and be damned.”
At that moment the channeled, accumulated power broke free towards the invaders. An unworldly green fire smashed into the siege towers to the screams of the orcs trapped within. The fire burned brightly as it seared orc and dragon flesh from bone. Moments later the fire was gone its fuel consumed.
That was all except for one. Morlin looked over the parapet edge to see that one great dragon remained standing unmarked by the destruction around it. Shocked he staggered back from the edge, his thoughts reeling.
“How survives this creature,” he thought? “Only gods and their kin could resist such as was cast.”
Suddenly all around him was bright and he felt a great crushing weight upon him so brutal he could not even cry out before everything faded from sight. Raising it's head towards the sky the dragon made a ululating cry before launching itself into the sky flying away from the city and the crumpled body of Morlin Nengwi.
Later Tyel-Duin came to the site of his friend’s death. He had been on the other side of the city but felt part of his soul die as Morlin had perished. Holding Morlin's crushed and broken body in his arms, he cried for his friend but also for himself for he knew his life would never be whole again. At length he stood and whispered to himself as he looked out over the city walls into the darkening evening sky.
“Pay they shall for Tyel-Duin's anger burns bright this day.”
So distraught was his partner that a foolhardy attack was made into the very camp of the orcs and dragons. The result was a slaughter, on both sides. Two thousand elves perished in the fight, and they took four thousand orcs with them. The last sorcerer himself destroyed twenty-three dragons before falling.
That would seem an end of it but Gothar had noted Dragoon's personal intervention in Morlin's death. While Gothar could not right that wrong, he could facilitate justice for a mortal slain at the hands of one begotten of gods. He guided the souls that had been Morlin and Tyel-Duin towards a future meeting on Ganareth. This time however they would have gathered other like souls to their cause in a fellowship that would eclipse all those preceding it.
It was with the deaths of the two sorcerers that a new council was chosen. It was spread out in much the way of the old council of elves. There was a master of constructive and destructive magic present. One was a master ranger, one a spy of the highest skill. Another was the undisputed master of the blade. One was a craftsman and the final was a merchant. This council however held the same views. "We are the ones fighting, risking our very lives for this land. When this is over they should be exiled, they have no hold here."
The citadel of the dark elves continued to fight for millennia, and it stood against the numerous assaults of the dragons that came. Around the year 6570, two elven babies named Luin Nengwi and Eldarion passed uneventfully into the world. Trailing in their wake, bound to the universes great wheel, the souls of their companions, yet unborn waited to take their place beside them. Gothar's justice had begun.
Finally the immortals returned to Ganareth. When Nekresis, Shakaar, and Skaarelius (3 of the immortals) arrived at the citadel a celebration was thrown. It lasted nine days. The immortals insisted that it end at that time. They left quickly after, but not after taking a few of the dark elves with them. They took the best. Nekresis took two young mages who were proficient in the destructive and constructive arts and trained them in the art of necromancy. Shakaar was followed by six young warriors and trained them in the ways of the paladin, with a twist. These nine would now be hesitant to kill, diplomacy was not always the first option. Skaarelius took but one, and trained him in summoning and illusions. The three immortals carved a citadel far to the north for the training of these elves. Half a century later the immortals, along with their disciples, actively entered into the war and within a century drove the invaders from the land of Neutra. The nine students returned to the citadel that the immortals had carved for them and set up specialist schools there. They took only the most promising of new recruits. At the urging and leadership of the two mages Luin Nengwi and Eldarion, they named their school in its entirety the "Soldiers of Fortune."
After the defeat of the invaders more attention was paid to magic. It was soon discovered that the dark moon provoked the best destructive magic, which was termed "dark magic," and that the light moon provoked the converse. This magic was termed "high magic." Many people wanted to dedicate their lives to either one and few decided that both were worthy of the honor of having their attentions. This minor detail soon evolved into a major issue and the council was split once again. The dark elves were again banished for their views. Hope remained however and far to the north a dark citadel was growing in influence. The Soldiers of Fortune announced that they would remain true to the destructive arts so that when turmoil once again assaulted the land some would be ready to fight. Followers of the dark moon flocked to the citadel.
From Chapter 8 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
Eldarion held his complete attention focused at a single point. Ages seemed to sweep past as he probed the consciousness that was Ganareth, seeking, looking for that tell tale flash. Finally there on the edge of a distant forest, there he could see the soul light of one he knew. Satisfied at finally finding what he sought, he relaxed his attention. Instantly the forest and the Ganareth beneath it vanished from sight and the plain stone room in which he was sitting filled his vision.
Turning to his left he could make just make out the shape of Luin fast asleep in the rooms other chair. There was precious little light in the room, illuminated as it was now only by the dull red embers of the fire and a single guttering candle stub. Eldarion sat for a moment debating whether or not to disturb his companion. A grin formed on his face as he reached out and grasped the sleeping Luin soundly on his shoulder before shaking him sharply. Luin groaned and slowly rolled his head towards the source of his awakening before opening one eye.
“Ugh Eldarion do you know what time it is? I was enjoying my rest not to mention the nicest dream I had...”
“I've found the first one.” Interrupted Eldarion. “It's some distance from here perhaps five days hard south gallop by War Dodo.”
Luin looked unimpressed. “Five days south would put us right in the middle of Cala'Quessir territory by my estimate. I'm sure they will be overjoyed to meet with us once more.”
“We were bound to the fellowship when we entered this world Luin Nengwi. We must fulfill our duty be it hard or easy. Ties of that sort cannot be undone by mere inconvenience. Come let us prepare we can ride out at dawn.”
In the year 6833 a discovery by a gnome led to the creation of the mana fountains. The Soldiers of Fortune with their vast influence acquired one for themselves in the northern lands of the elves. Vuuar, one of two experts on magic managed to secure the building of one fountain in the lands of the dark elves. The other expert was denied his petition for a fountain in the lands of the high elves on the grounds that there was already one fountain in the lands of the elves. The high elves were furious. To them their "dark" brethren had cheated them and they wanted what was rightfully theirs. In the year 6844 a further discovery led to the conversion of mana fountains to either dark or light mana fountains. The dark elves made their fountain one of dark magic. This simply was salt on the wounds of the high elves and they attacked the dark elves.
The war lasted for many years but eventually the dark elves held their land, due in no small part to the mana fountain. The casualties however were enormous. It would be many decades before the elves could afford to even think about another war. None the less the dark elves continued to train their youth in the ways of destructive magic, necromancy, the bow, and the blade. The Soldiers of Fortune continued to recruit the best of the best, and their ranks swelled.
From Chapter 12 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
Luin Nengwi and Eldarion strode across the night cloaked ground with steady measured strides. A light rain fell about them and the rain soaked grassy hillocks made the footing difficult for those who were incautious or in too much of a hurry.
Luin spoke, pointing at the darkness ahead and slightly to his left. “We must be close. I'm beginning to feel another's presence. I always get that feeling when we find one.”
Eldarion nodded and they altered direction slightly to match Luin's prediction. Several minutes later they began to make out the shape of a body lying motionless on the ground. In the dim moonlight it seemed to glow slightly against the dark ground. Closer and they could see that it was a young woman naked and shivering slightly as the cold rain chilled her. She watched them approach but seemed helpless and unable to move or flee.
Luin looked carefully at her. She was slightly built with pale white skin that was sharply contrasted by her long ebony hair. Her dark brown eyes returned his stare and he saw that despite her helplessness her eyes betrayed no fear, only resignation at her fate.
He turned to Eldarion “Another one?”
“Lets find out”, replied Eldarion as he cast the spell of fellowship as he had many times previously. The spell crackled on the women’s prone body like tiny lightening, causing her to close her eyes. A few moments later he nodded “It is our Finora “, he said quietly.
Luin removed a blanket from his backpack and bending down gently wrapped her in it before taking her body in his arms. As he did this the women’s eyes flew open in astonishment. Clearly she had not expected to live through the encounter.
Eldarion smiled “Welcome back to Soldiers of Fortune. Luin Nengwi and I had almost given up hope. You are, I believe the last member of our fellowship to return to us. Now we are united, we will prevail.”
The day would come when they would make their brethren see their error. The Soldiers of Fortune would fight for the right of all people to follow the dark side of the moon. This path was termed dark and associated with evil. But the SoF fought for freedom, and the path to freedom was the dark path.
From Chapter 13 of the Soldiers of Fortune Didactic Ganareth History
The old elf shut the book and placed it back on its former resting place. His two younger companions were silent, still bound up in the world and actions he had described to them. He looked at each of them in turn. Now came the reckoning.
“Now I have told you what came to pass, have you the courage to take the future and make it what it should be? Some of what I did I have cause to regret. It is a luxury the old can afford when the memory of my deeds is no longer raw and bleeding but etched and smooth like an old wound.”
The old elf's gaze bore into each of them in turn like white hot forged steel, but neither lowered their eyes or looked away. Grunting in approval he turned back to glance again at the book sitting on the table.
“Perhaps you will be good students after all. I owe the world that much at least. To teach you as well as I can. Then just maybe you can help bring the world back to rights and an old fool can have his peace.”
He closed his eyes and let the memories of his life spill over him like a great wave. The faces of those he had known and loved. Of the actions made in haste and later regretted. Of great ambitions come to naught and small ideas grown from nothing to dominate. Perhaps it all did make sense. Even the ones he had hurt and those who had hurt him, maybe it was meant to be so. He had seen enough of life to know that such could not be seen in isolation, one life's momentary play in the endless age of the universe.
Sighing deeply he turned back to his new students. “Forgive my reminisces for they come to me often these days. Let us hope they will not hinder my teaching of you too much. Now, let us begin.”
[Edited on 20/1/2004 by Fhman]