ALT-U: THIS POST SHOULD NOT BE CONSIDERED AS IN-GAME TRUTH
“Over a thousand years ago, as we covered a few semesters ago, the lands where much wider, the desert, according to sources, was fertile and the lands continued on, this gave rise to the many legendary races we covered earlier as well”
“except for gnomes” complained the only juvenile gnome in the group, harder for his tutor to pick out, hidden as he was by his classmates of humans and elves
“Erm, yes, so, the wider lands of mortal races back then are thought to have worshiped two gods, with some outlying older practices, popular particularly amongst the elven peoples.
Amongst the crowd the smallest member of the class, for he had been added to a class not of his age group but of his relative height, thumbed through a book on disruptive modern magical theories that drew on recently discovered writings of a wizard-master by the name of Burns.
“Almost all the races that believed in the One or in Asmodeus believed that their their lord was the fair and just one, believing the other unjust and wicked. It seems strange to us in this age as compared to the horrors our enemies lay upon us, both The One and Asmodeus seem fair and just, they did not condemn much beyond the use of divine or arcane magic to force a person to act against their free-will, for they judged the dead’s entry to the afterlife they believed in according to the actions they did of their own free will.”
“bull shit”… muttered a barely 3 foot tall student lost in the crowd. “laws of Enochian Dynamics rule out any afterlife as being more than an alternate plane, and planar travel is possible through simple reinterpretation of spells under Existential Markup!”
Ms Hel’rentai continued, apparently oblivious to the protests of her 15 year old student.
“There was an alternative however, here we are at the site of the Old Shrine, obviously the Old Shrine is gone now, this is the city defensive wall, but here there used to be a shrine to the Old Gods, or the Old Ways, or the Elven Ways as myself and our Queen remember them, Long may she reign over us.”
“By the age of the two gods most races had very polar ideas about the afterlife.”
The half elf tutor went on, showing the dried flowers that were still placed at the spot against the defensive wall that
“Interestingly, whatever races believed in The One or Asmodeus, they could never agree which was the ‘good guy’ and which was the corruptor, we have writings from ancient dwarf races that we haven’t heard from since before Acerrorack enslaved them, that praise Asmodeus, but traditional human teachings from the time preach The One was the saviour.
“He must have been! Grand Master Burns extols his virtues in his book “Inherited Theories of Advanced Magical Transcript” – it’s the basis of the whole arcane revolution!" Mortimer yelled out. “And he sites a Gnome as his source! A Gnome! You never cover our history!”
“He was writing about magic, and some pretty controversial magic if I understand it, in a time of serious wars and upheaval. Not religion, on that front he was just repeating his cultures established opinion… tell the class Mortimer, why do you admire this Grand-Master Burns?”
The youngster pushed his way through his younger classmates to the front of the class.
“Grand-Master Burn was the first of the older wizards to use Existential Markup for his spells, he revolutionised how magic is used and shared, someone convinced him to throw out the decrepit ideas of Tenser’s magic. His writings are worth far more than any defunct religious text you quote from. The God’s are dead! All the Gods, the ones of men and dwarves and”… he paused to make his verbal assault more venomous on his Elven teacher
“And the old ways, the elven ways, they had wishy washy ideas anyway, at least Azmodeus had order!”
“And who was the god of arcane magic Master Greysproket?” the tutor spat back,
“I… er… there was an arch fae associated with it but… But it was no part of those people’s faith because all magic had dealt to them was death, and all magic deals to us now is death!”
The half elf exclaimed at the younger gnome in reply.
“What will you do Master Greysprocket when the gods give you lemons?”
He could not reply, however, as the defensive wall of the Citadel behind them, at this point, exploded.
Mortimer back-peddled into his fellow students, crying out in XML as he fell
The exploding wall clattered off his arcane barrier which covered as many of the children near him as he could extend his will to cover.
As he shook the dust from himself and the ringing in his ears cleared he looked back and saw Ms Hel’rentai cradling the bodies of dead students. He looked back, and saw a small band of infiltrators pouring through the breach.
For a moment, locking his eyes with his history tutor he whispered:
“When the gods give you death?”
Then the 15 year old Gnome whirled around, standing short before the black clad and masked invading party… and he cried:
Arcane forces ripped through him, shaped by no spell, no focus, no gesture, pure power responded to pure will, and those pouring through the breach lay dead. Behind him he watched as wisps of lifeforce were channeled from the attackers into gravely injured students blinked and woke to life.
Two days later a page found him in the city library, he was reading a paper published by some random old wizard Spugnoir. The page’s message was clear, he had been expelled from class for “use of magic unbecoming of a young student.”
“Expelled for saving a class full of students…” the young man muttered to himself, his face set in a snarl.
“What do you do when the gods give you lemons?” young Greysproket asked himself: “Marvel, because the gods are dead, and all we get given is death… so death must be all we can wield!