"...And the light of the sun was blotted out and the demons of the air, like a cloud of locusts sent by Bane himself, swarmed over the tall spires and glittering city. It was then that all doubt left anyone, Myth Drannor would fall. The demons swarmed into the city and though valiant powerful warriors held out in some spots, standing upon piles of orcish and demon bodies, soon they were all to fall, and the dark army was left to it’s looting. But even in this looting hundreds were to find their end. As they entered the towers of glittering power, mage traps of all natures sent demons and orcs to their deaths in horrific and terrible ways. A minor revenge for the loss of perhaps the greatest city the world shall ever see. Still the army swarmed south, but it had taken it’s mortal wound at Myth Drannor and with it’s last breaths it managed to reach the southern most point in Sembia, before being destroyed by the remaining armies of man. It was nearly a decade before all the land was cleared of the great destruction, and almost exactly 10 years later was when the elves announced to man that Cormanthor was off limits. The lumbering of the men of Sembia was no longer to be tolerated. And out of this destruction and death came Steven Obarskyr and his valiant companions to come stomp out the last remnants of evil that still held Cormyr in it’s dark grasp. They made their way into the castle through lost secret tunnels, and confronted the poor possessed Jacob Obarskyr, and his evil allies. After a great battle, the defeated the dark forces, and drove the evil spirit from his brother, leaving him unwaking. With no thought of rest, these valiant heroes did one last great deed. They sought out the demon that left his brother ever sleeping, and they drove it far into the north from whence it will never return. And as you all know, his brother Jacob was freed of the curse, and has spent these many years helping to rebuild Cormyr. And for 45 years Steven has ruled this land, forming it into the powerful kingdom that this evening, will be supplying the wine. Cheers to the Obarskyr family, who have ruled strong and pure for seven centuries this day!!"

Cheers echo about the banquet hall from the near 100 people present, on this, the 700^th anniversary of Cormyr, as the bard finished his story. Eventually the song and dancing begins, and the evening prances along merrily, at the private celebrations of the royal family. Looking about the room, only the close friends of Steven and monarchs of the land can be seen about the room. His wife Elannen, proud and strong watching over her husband. Though Steven is the greatest of hero’s, he has had more than his share of drinks and sits snoozing quietly next to his brother Jacob. Very near them, his son, the crown prince, as well as Jacobs son and some of their friends shout and jest loudly, overflowing with youth. Over in a corner Morgoth and Xej can be seen sharing a joke. Kory dances about the room with a young man barely able to keep her pace and not nearing her grace and keeps the eyes of several guests. And still many others of note sit or dance, sing or talk, on this most happy of days. Fane Darkwolf, a man of genteel birth, who lives in his fortified keep at Tyrluk sits back enjoying the ambiance of the night. Lady Velg Truesilver of the Marsember royal house chats idly with chancellor Gzem Hirsh of the Chondath empire. And a most famous bard and storyteller, Gia Walker, seduces one of the serving girls. All in all, one might say it’s been a perfect evening. It figures something cliche would have to happen.

With a clap of thunder and explosion of foul smoke, a small winged creature about 3 feet tall appears flapping it’s little wings over the center of the dance floor. It’s spiked tail waves and dances at eyes level with the guests who quickly crowd away. It seems to smile and cackle as it senses fear from around it. But it also senses the danger. It quickly raises it’s hands in a motion of peace. Indeed, peace from a small, spike covered, red leather skinned, naked man, with bat wings. And then it spoke:

"I bear for your ‘great’ king a message from my master. The message says, "Beware feeble king, your kingdoms days are at an end, winds of change come for you, and there is no hiding. Prey thee that your kingdoms shield holds strong, for powers of destruction focus on us all. Fate is on it’s way."

With his speech recited, the creature begins flapping towards a high window, and all hell breaks loose.

It’s been about two days since the Cormyr’s actual birthday, and still horns are blowing, children yelling, people dancing and singing, you’d think they didn’t have anything better to do. Not that you’ve really noticed. Aside from sleeping off the evenings drinks, and digging through your books with Morgoth to find information on that little red skinned uninvited bat guest, you’ve hardly noticed that passing of time. You let out a sigh and remember better times, when you had apprentices to look up this useless information for you. Ahhhhh, to have Tensilon the goody tooshoos half-elf who had no respect for you and treated you like a doddering old fool, or Briar, hard working, aspiring young man intent on learning everything you threw at him. Including that goblet after he knocked one of your books out a window. He was such an unlucky boy. And since Tensilon left you haven’t been able to find a replacement apprentice. It’s been practically lonely in your tower, it’s good to have Morgoth around again. Come to think about it, how could six months pass and not a single young mage come asking to be apprenticed. Before, you would have a dozen eager men the day you posted. It’s been months since you posted, and still no apprentice. Maybe there’s a convention you don’t know about. Well, won’t find information about a little red winged creature thinking about this apprentices.

Knock, knock, knock. You issue the appropriate questioning mumble.

"Um...gift for you sir, it’s says it’s from a one Tensilon Brevenor."

Walked all the way up the stairs just to give you a gift. And from that snotty Tensilon. He hasn’t spoken to you in 6 months ever since he told you he was going to try to seek the elven mages for apprenticeship, that he was tired of sitting around and poking through dust covered books. Ha! Wonder what in the Abyss’s name he’d send you.

You get up and walk across the room, opening the door. One of the familiar looking servants stands with a smallish chest in his hands. He hands it to you.

"Um, there’s a note on top wise one. It says it’s for you, urgent, and that it’s from Tensilon."

"I can read, thanks."

"Of course sir." With a flourish of a bow, he takes his leave.

You go back to the table and put the chest down. A little heavy. Hmmm. Magically locked. Pfa. You exert a small amount of force and the lid clicks open. He hasn’t gotten much more powerful in the last half a year. Inside, are two items. One, on top, is a velvet covered case, a little over a foot long. Under that, a sack. You take out the case and open it. Inside is lain a beautiful dagger, with a carved ivory handle. A work of art. You’ll certainly have to thank that brat for this. Then you take out the sack, and a foreboding feeling comes over you as the contents roll about inside like a large melon. You open it. You look in.

It’s been sometime since you’ve gotten out, and this makes you slightly dizzy. To see your most recent apprentice’s head in a sack is enough to make anyone queasy. Who would do this? Why? What is going on?

Ever since your months pouring over the scrolls of Netheril nearly 45 years ago, you have spent your days going over and over what you read, in a frustrating attempt to understand it, and apply it. Even now, as the words go through your mind, new understand comes. It has taken you nearly 40 years to finally absorb all that knowledge, and your wanderings have come to an end, bringing you full circle, suitably, to Cormyr, just in time for it’s 700^th birthday. Impressive, for any human kingdom.

The scrolls taught you wisdom and temperament, and you can almost understand why they needed to be lost in time. Though you are more thankful than ever that you won them back from that shadowy creature that attempted to steal them away. Thoughts of the shadowy creature ripple through your mind and have haunted your dreams. A dark foreboding comes over you when ever you think of it.

You understand now the more global meaning of events and history, but also it taught you the meaning of the individual, and how important emotion and drive is. With this wisdom has come a calm in yourself. You can see things more clearly, you worry about cause more than effect, and you’ve found it much much easier to see the real problems, behind the masks. And so it is with this small winged bat creature that has smeared the celebrations. You can see that his presence and his words are not the most important. It is not that the words are to be ignored, but what does it mean? The message had almost a pleading air to it. As if the giver weren’t threatening the kingdom, more, warning it, of something it was afraid of. When agents of evil come to your door to warn you, you know that something even more evil must be on it’s way...

Elric walked tiredly through the gates and on to the castle’s moat. The draw bridge stood open, and all but unguarded, a sign of the times. The dark thoughts wandering through his mind said those times were about to come to an end. Something dark rode in on last nights wind, and nobody knows it’s here. Except maybe him. His last 40 years of travel had seen him wander all across the land. He had been to see some of the worlds most powerful mages, and he had entertained in some of the shoddiest inns. And this broad experience had given him something he had never really had before. A feel for the population, and worldly knowledge. And this new found knowledge brought something truly scary to him. Looking down at himself, his stained and ripped clothing, his dirty flesh, he laughed. Good thing there were hardly any guards, they would have never let him see the king of Cormyr in such a state. If he wasn’t so exhausted he’d be able to cast a spell to fix it, but he was in no state. His spells had been needed to keep him alive, forget clean. It happened about 3 months ago. It was late one night, he was wondering across some field on the way to the next town, when he overheard a conversation which he later wrote down, because it was of such import. In the high grass, sitting about a fire he encounter three men. All apparently soldiers, though they wore no uniforms.

The first, "At least he wasn’t an elf. I don’t care what you say, elves still are the most nasty. They may not be such powerful mages, but it’s near impossible to catch them off guard, and even if you take away their magic, they’re still impressive swordsmen. Human’s are pushovers."

Second, "Ya, and elves are always hidin’ in the forest, and almost never alone, except the wanderers. And now that they’ve sealed off Cormanthor, there’s little chance we’ll be killing anymore soon. They probably smelled it coming."

Third, "I wish you both would shut up. It’s bad enough that I accepted this stupid hire, but I also have to put up with your inane chatter."

First, "Well, I mean, if we’re going around killing mages, we should probably discuss our thoughts on it every now and again. You know, brush up on tactics."

Third, "Man, we don’t have to put any thought into it. The guy who hired us told us exactly what we had to do, and it’s worked 26 times. The hardest part is putting up with you two....."

At that point, it had been decided it was a good point to leave. Well, sure enough, as luck would have it, two weeks later on an empty road to Eveningstar they just happen to run into him. If he had not known them, they surely would have ended him. It was the third one missing that caused Elric the alarm, and his quick glance around gave him the slim chance to dive out of the way of the poisoned dart that came at him from behind. He fled for his life. He managed to lose them, but two days ago they somehow picked up his trail, and he’s been fleeing ever since. An early encounter with them today left him bleeding, and slightly sick from some poison. Damn them. So here he comes, to the local castle, hopefully to find safety, and the ear of a someone who will listen and get to the bottom of this. He has heard the tales of the king and his friends. Heck, he had embellished on them several times. He COULD go to the elves, and find sanctuary, but this needs immediate attention and his fellows elves, though he loved them dearly, could really take their sweet ass time about some things. So, to Steven Obarskyr he goes.

The cold rain dribbled down from the sky onto Lurch’s head. A large drop dribbles down his neck. He was up to his shins in mud, and the road ahead of him looked more like a dirty river of mud than anything else. A couple spells that would ease his suffering came to mind, if he only had his spell book. Damn. Well, soon he would come into his power, and minor problems like the weather, long roads, and missing spell books wouldn’t cause him grief. He was starting to doubt his chances at adventure. So far he’d only found rain, mud, little dirty villages, and a couple of nasty thieves. He’d been on his own now for a whole month, having been sent on his way by his master. His master, Djek Morstron, an extremely powerful mage, who had taken him in and fostered the art in him. Djek had always told him that he had inherited great strength of body, and intelligence, but his personality must have been dropped on it’s head one two many times when he was young. He never really knew what to make of that, but what the heck, be proud of what you’ve got. And so the two worked hard fostering the magical side of Luther,, until Djek said it was time to go out on his own, and find his way in life. With Lurch’s spell book in hand, he had traveled out of the minor forests of the dales where his master resided and into the world to find his glory and path to power. Only one week out from the forest, he was set upon by thieves. He had managed to escape with his life, his dagger, and his gold, but little else . His precious spell book was left behind. He could hear them shouting at each other for letting him get away, as they burned his camp.

Now, three weeks later, he was on the road to Arabel, the crown city of Cormyr. Since then he had used all his gold to stay at inns, buy food, and to purchase a magical ring for only 100 gold from a man down on his luck. The fine man had said that his family was starving, and he had to sell his precious family heirloom to buy food. It didn’t look like much, no more than a common ring, but the man assured Luther that it was quite powerful. So, with nothing but the clothes on his back, his dagger, and a magical ring, he sloshed through the mud towards Arabel.

After a few hours, shivering and drenched through and through, he came to the gates of Arabel. The guards admitted him after searching his person, and finding only a dagger. They watched him suspiciously as he walked down the cobbled streets. Since he had no money, he went straight away to the postings board at the town square. He looked over it with a sigh. There were over a dozen jobs posted here. But look, they were all petty jobs cleaning floors or dishes, or cooking food. But then, there, in golden pen was a posting requesting a young mage to be apprenticed to Xej, the royal mage and magical advisor to the crown. He had heard stories of Xej and in particular of his power, and of his adventures. Hmmm. Apprenticeship dependant upon successful interview. All mages interested, please report to the castle. He looked across the rooftops towards the castle towers. Through the rain and mist, against the backdrop of grey clouds, the outline of the castle loomed like a beacon of fate.

akadi