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Posted by Rune on October 09, 1999 at 03:13:00:

In Reply to: Sadly enough, this is true. posted by Another master... on October 09, 1999 at 02:46:04:

> I remember a time when being a master of magic brought a sense of awe from others, and being a villager instilled this same sense of awe. Knights fought honorably, Entropy played tricks, and brought a sense of chaos to the world. Arbiters controlled the cities. Life was good in thera. But Entropy has begun to win the war...not Cabal war...just the war in general. The Empire didnt introduce gangbanging...for years we have been teaming up to pound some big mean guy we couldnt handle solo. Empire did make ganing up to beat on anybody, and everybody acceptable, and expected. The knights began to lose their honor in the face of these massive empire raiding parties, and honor was lost in the desperate strugle not to get their asses handed to them. The battleragers now faced three enemies, the Sylvans, the Empire, and the Tower...and all the other mages and mage lovers of the world. Slowly the strong proud warriors that at one time struck fear into the hearts of all those who dabbled in bagic began to fade, swept away in the torent or mass mulitpking and sheer numbers of their enemies. Though a few fought on, they were grossly outnumbered. Then in an attempt to breath again they opened the village doors to nearly any and all that would denounce magic and take up arms against all those who use magic, have used magic, or had someone in their family that used magic at some odd point in their lives. The bloodshed increased. Now Masters...still standing strong in their tower due too shaky alliances with the Empire, and only a small threat from those of Sylvan, began feeling the pressure of greater Rager influence. So they too opened the gates of the tower, and allowed many in who merely knew the five magics, and now those that possibly dont join in the towers efforts. These new members proved to waiver in the face of danger, coming and going as they saw safe. Then the grand conjurors entered the fray, and the Empire and Masters went to war. A deadly war that cost the lives of many masters, but many, many more Emperials. By order of Twist the head was to be spared, and all efforts to be spent on leveling the emperials. Soon the empire was in ruin. Brief respites found them in control, but overall, their mighty citadel was crumbling as Agorinth fought on, stubbornly. Then the Ragers, safe in their village, unpestered by the powerful mages who were away doing battle against the Evil Empire began training, the village doors swung wide, and without the watchful eye of the tower their numbers swelled, and swelled. Soon the lands were overrun by their crude talking, dolt acting antics. They strike without warning, they fight with the ferocity of pickles in a rainstorm, but, but my friends, enough pickles in a rainstorm can be devastating. As the battle against The empire raged on, slowly the weary masters withdrew into their far away homesteads, some perished, a few merely faded away. Then one day like the floodgates of hell opening on thera the ragers struck the tower, with a force that is still ringing loudly. Those inside fought to defend, mant villagers fell, but for every rager that fell, two were to step into his place...the masters have not that advantage.

>
And so now, my dear ones of Thera, this is the state of things in our beloved land. The masters have scattered into hiding, fighting whenever they can, whenever an opportunity presents itself. The villagers wander the halls of the tower, writing in Feces upon the walls, and urinating in the library. The streets of Galadon flow bloodread from the blood of countless innocents who have been labeled "friends of magic" since they once looked at a potion and wondered if it tasted good. Empire stand on the ruins of their once mighty fortress, and shake their fists at the distant tower like little children bereft of their playtoys. The arbiters hunker down eating their dognuts, sipping their coffee, hoping that it will all end soon...watching out the windows as yet another wandering party of ragers impolitely hand another galadonian citizen his ass on a bloody wooden platter. And with a Grunt and a "heh...you suck" the villagers dissapear. AS more villagers appear, a strange noise is heard as many of the remaining few masters struggling to survive, seem to dissapear...suddenly...for some reason. And all the while there is Dawn...yeah...dawn....they sure are, dawn. And then the Troupers...the troupers...they poke each other in their happy places inside the warm snug Inn of the Eternal star...because they know, they know that should they step outside, they too will fall. And like those hearing the end is coming soon they grab the first piece of ass they can get and tear at it like a Shi'tzu on speed.

>
But all...all is well...if you are one with the chaos.

>
> Al


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