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[Iituem]

"Argh!" yelped Tasset, swatting at the dozens of mosquitoes.  He grabbed part of the table cloth and tried to brush them away with it.  Nemani quietly put his palm to his face.

"Best add a Dragonfly statue to the idols, then."  He stared at the flies and ants feasting on the bodies.  "This is going to do nothing for morale when they hear we left the bodies to be eaten by vermin rather than bury them," he said pointedly.  Nemani stared at the place where the cloud of dragonflies had been and shrugged.  He put his hands together.

"Great and inevitable Galt, Lord of the..." he glanced at the insects devouring his former allies and competitors, "Flies, we beg only that Your servants depart, that we may bury the dead with honour."

[Ghazkull]

Quôth couldn't resist. It seems there was something important going on as every god in the universe seemed to pay that mortal a visit. Quôth just appeared in the middle of the room, completely unceremonially and without great hoopla, silently watching the futile efforts of the two mortals in the room as they tried to chase away the insects from teh dead bodies. After a while he loudly harrumphed

Well...that's for what half the universe came for? An Elf and an old warrior? Let me help you with those bugs...

Suddenly like on a silent command the carrion insects left the bodies and crawled towards the Crow God. While the insects begin to move through the openings in the armor a small trickle of pus ran down and formed a smal puddle.

Now would you please have the courtesy to tell me who you two are that the gods are so highly interested in you?

[Iituem]

Tasset stared at the decaying human in rusted armour and decided he had had enough.  The commander walked over to the table, sat down and started knocking back as many horns of ale as were left undrunk (which were rather less since Nemani had started on them as well).  The elf rubbed his temples gently for a moment before composing himself.

"Greetings, divine one," he decided to go for, bowing as deep as he could.  "Welcome to Gheronaton's temple.  I wish I could tell you precisely why the gods seem to be taking such an interest in us this evening.  I believe it has to do with the recent declarations I have made in an effort to unite the tribes of this region.  Perhaps the gods wish me to spread the message of their existence amongst we mere mortals, as I have done with Gheronaton?"

[Ghazkull]

A horrible croakin sound echoed from the thraot of the dead god. It sounded like the gibbering of a man with a slit throat.

I am Quôth my friend. And i am more or less another of these quite annoying gods cometo bugger you. Although i came because of mere interest. It is normally a matter of fact that if Astra'ath and the Child gods meet, everything ends it the death of millions and billions of mortals. And the aftermaths of such meetings normally requires someone to clean up, namely me. So you can consider yourself rather lucky that they didn't destroy the whole planet although i think Luna would have been quite...uneasy with such an action.



Another croaking sound emanated from the Crow Gods voice. But suddenyl his face become serious. Very serious.
I don't care if you spread the message of the Child Gods or of Astra'ath. But if you ever dare starting a religion involving me, i will turn the rest of your life and afterlife, yes, the rest of an eternity for you, into one cruciating...never...ending...pain. Im no god to be worshipped. If you turn to me, then only if the gods and the universe have forsaken and forgotten you.

The god grinned again, but it only looked like his corners of the mouth had been forced upwards by rigor mortis.

I hope i didn't sound too much like some crazy old bastard, but it must be. The last thing i want is a bunch of idiots who think whorshipping me will gain them anything.

He looked over to Tasset who seemed to be still drinking.

One could think you would have never seen a dead man...One last word of advice to you two: i would soon be trying to get all that godly attention away from you.
A war of gods is out there and they tend to use their playthings, so to state you, to bash their heads in. But up to now the playthings only shattered at their thick heads. Be careful Elf and old warrior because it might well be if you continue like that, that we might meet again and then i will only ask you if you fear death...

[forsaken1111]

The Eye of Terror, seen from Nemani's window, seems to halt. It is much larger in the heavens now, clearly visible even during the day, like a great eye staring down at the settlement. If one looks too long into its lidless gaze, one begins to hear whispers...

While remaining outside of the barrier and various protections, Astra'ath selects a half-dozen of the most ambitious individuals in the settlement: the dissatisfied, the unlucky, the downtrodden. It reaches out with its mind and whispers to them the secrets of its dark sorcery, the mortal magic which it has created.

To one it teaches the way of fire, controlling and taming the wild flame. To one it teaches the way of water, flowing and adaptable. To one it teaches the way of earth, solid and immutable. To one it teaches the way of wind, storms and lightning bending to their command. And to the last two it teaches the way of darkness, the sorcery of death and ruin.

It bids them go forth, and use their powers for personal advancement.

And then It watches.

[Digital Hellhound]

It was like a neverending stream of divine minds, all visiting this elf for unknown reasons. She had wanted to wait until the gods had left the elf alone, but such a moment would take an eternity to reach if they kept coming like this. No, she would go to him now.

Niande shifted back through the wall, and approached the elf. Such a brilliant mind...

'Greetings, elf, from the god Coradin, my master and creator. I am Niande, one of the Twelve Muses, tasked with igniting the creativity that lies in the hearts of all sentient beings. Coradin wishes no worship, but he is interested in the events here. I will be staying in this town, but if you wish, you can forget I even exist. However, if you need me, just call and I will come. I might even be able to help you if you're looking for a sculptor.'

She nodded to both elves slightly and left.

[ed boy]

In the middle of the night, if one had sharp enough eyes, one might be able to see a figure flitting from shadow to shadow. Nobody ever got close enough to examine this figure, but if they had they would have seen it was a small woman, dressed in dark colours from head to toe.

She came to the village about once every three or four days, but was glimsped about once a fortnight. Those who had seen her would tell stories about her, stories of trickery and thievery. They were not wrong. Her name was Dron, but they did not know that, so instead they referred to her by a myriad of titles.

Tonight, Dron was on another of her outings. She lurked in the shadow of one house before padding silently to the next. This repeated for some time, until she came to her mark. She eased the door open, and stepped inside.

She came to the bedroom. There, she was not disappointed. A small table was decked with jewelry and other trinkets. Smiling, she took these and placed them in her sack. Her sack had many padded compartments, to prevent her stolen goods from rattling round and making noise.

As she stood by the bed, and gathered the last of the goods, she was struck by a vision. It assaulted her mind and senses, and though it lasted only a few seconds, it seemed hours. She snapped out of it to find that she had been chanting in a strange tongue, and this had woken the figure lying beneath her.

The figure opened its mouth, and drew in a great breath to scream for help, but it was cut short. Dron brough down a large rock, the same size as her head. In the darkness, the rock rose and fell again and again. It was only when the skull had been completely caved in that Dron stopped.

Terrified, she looked at the rock. That had not been in her hand before, it had come from nowhere. She dropped it and left the house. Shaken, she made her way out of the village. Her sneaking was a bit sloppier than normal, but thankfully she met nobody.

She walked about half a mile beyond the edge of the village. She did not follow the paths, but instead wandered into the wilderness, stopping when she came to a large tree. She pushed aside some debris, and a hole was made visible. She clambered inside, and replaced the covering after her.

The hole opened up into a large chamber. It was filled with many treasures, each of them stolen. Dron had been enjoying the prosperity of the village greatly, and she enjoyed a great quality of life as a result. There were two or three such caverns that she stored her goods in, and she went to a different one each time to avoid drawing attention to them.

Dron removed the goods that she had stolen from the sack. They were added to the great pile of stolen treasures. She drank some fine wine, ate some cold meat, and curled up under luxurious furs to go to sleep.

[ragnarok97071]

They called him weak. Cast off from his tribe, he was branded an exile and sent into the wilderness to die fighting. he survived, however, untill one day, camping deep in a forest near a small town which had grown quite a lot recently, he dreamed. He dreamed of blood and shadow, death and corruption. secrets, dark mysteries were whispered to his sleeping mind, and, upon waking, he is empowered. For the first time in a long time, he feels pleasure. he would have his revenge. But first, he would have to learn more of this power.

For this, he would turn to the nearby town. He could not be discovered immediately, of course, so utmost care would be needed. calling on his power, he pulls nearby shadows into himself, turning him nearly invisible. from this, he would creep through the forest, slowly approaching.

[Lordinquisitor]

It was a calm and cool night. No sound could be heard, save the sound of a elf swimming in the lake.

The water was very cold, but Andor`caas didn't mind it. He was used to cold water; And he had been an avid swimmer ever since he was old enough to walk.

It was one of his habits to go swimming when he needed to think, just like other people would take a walk or would meditate.

He always had the best ideas while swimming- And now he really needed a good idea. The last days had been even harder than usual; He had found no work at all, and coulnd`t even purchase the tiniest morsel of food. Like so often he had to steal in order to survive; Using the rivers and the rain he liked so much to escape unnoticed.

Water had often helped him. And it even saved his life on some occasions. 

When he had been young his parents, who were hunters, would often take him with them into the wilderness, teaching him how to spot animals and how to read signs. (He had forgotten most of it, though.) It was a good childhood, and he never suffered from hunger.

But one day everything changed- During one of his lessons he and his parents were ambushed by some orcish raiders. His parents valiantly tried to save him from the orcs. They were cut down within seconds, and he had to flee.

The Orcs followed him. His only advantage was that he knew the land- But the orcs were close on his heels, following his tracks and even his scent.

And when he thought that he had to give up, it suddenly started raining. It was a heavy downpour which washed his scent and most of his tracks away, buying him some time. Stubborn the orcs followed him still, but when the rain ceased a heavy mist hung in the air which made it impossible for them to follow him further.

This was the first time when water had saved his life; Though often he asked himself why. For his life was not a good one thereafter. He had to travel from settlement to settlement, doing every job offered to him in order to buy enough food. Often enough he had to steal, and often enough he was caught and punished.. Till he learned how to use rivers and lakes to shake followers off.

He had stolen again this night. The settlement was conveniently situated near an river and thus he was able to swim quickly away before they found out that they had been robbed. He had just stolen a few sausages, but to him they were a great treasure.

But he couldn't live from stealing the rest of his life, he knew. The settlements he knew where getting more and more cautious. Not only because of him, no, there were also rumors of dark things hunting in the woods and orcs still raided the countryside. Even more worrisome was the cult of Gheronaton, who became more and more powerful with each day.

The Head priest of the cult recently subjugated many tribes and styled himself tyrann. The "enslaved" people might curse his name for they perceived only the restrictions that he placed on them.. But he did a lot of good stuff for them, too. His warriors, for example, were good and skilled guards and they were ruthless when dealing with thieves. They made Andor`caas life much harder.

So what should he do? Often he had tried to settle down somewhere, but everytime he had failed. He had no particularly good skills and most people would consider him to be a nuisance rather than a valuable addition to their village.

He assumed that he could join the cult of Gheronaton.. They were always in need of warriors or acolytes, he heard. Yet a life of servitude didn't appeal to him.. Though a life in servitude was better than no life at all, he supposed.

Andor`caas was silently floating on the water, staring up to the sky. It was a clear night and he could see every star. He liked the stars as well. When he was young his parents used to tell him how each star was a world far away, and they also thought him the names of the various constellations and groups of stars.

His parents used to tell him that the constellation they called the magi shone bright the day he was born and often teased that he was going to be a mighty wizard one day. That was stupid, of course, for there were no wizards. That was just a fairy tale.

Today the magi didn't shine bright, yet a star he didn't know shone all the brighter.. And seemed to fill the whole sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold, for the star seemed to change his color from time to time. Now it was red and in the next moment it was purple.

He watched the star for a long time, finding joy in his everchanging colors.
But suddenly he came to the conclusion that the star looked just like a eye. A eye which seemed to stare back at him, peering into his very soul.

The thought made Andor`caas very uncomfortable and the water suddenly appeared to be unendurable cold and so he decided to swim back to the shore.

But he couldn't. Suddenly his arms and legs were as heavy as lead and the water seemed to drag him down. He tried to move, desperately tried to flail his arms around like a inexperienced swimmer would do in such a situation. And then he went down. Suddenly the water was above him, in him, filling his lungs as he sank down. He could still see the eye in the sky, watching him struggling, his sickening light penetrating the surface.

He fought for what seemed to be an eternity, trying to get back up again. But it didn`t work; He just sank down further.

Andor`caas felt how his strength left him and he stopped fighting against the water. And then he felt strangely at peace and didn't mind dieing anymore.

But then he heard the whispers. They seemed to come from everywhere at once, from the sky, from the mouth of the fishes passing by, from the eye above.

"Go" The whispers said "Swim, breath, live" They urged.

"But I can`t. It`s too hard." Andor`caas thought.

"Too hard." They mocked. "It`s not too hard. Just live. Just swim. Just command the water to give you back your life."

"But I can`t." Why couldn't`t the whispers just let him die, in peace?

"You can. Use your power. Use your mind. Command the water to do as you will."

"I can`t. I`m too weak and I`m no wizard who can command the water." The voices were making no sense, he decided.

"Are you sure? Have you even tried it?" They said. And then they went on:"Try it, try it, try it, try it, try it."

He was almost on the bottom now and he didn't`t want to argue further with those crazy voices. He just wanted to be left alone. "Try it. Try it. Try it." They went on.

"Why can`t you understand? I`m no wizard. Just let me die."

"Die, die, die. Are you that eager to die?" They sounded so very sad.

Did he want do die? Did he? Was that what he wanted? To die? It was hard to think now, and he felt how his last breath was leaving his lungs.

But suddenly he decided that he wanted to live. He just wanted to live on. He tried to swim, but it hurt so much. But he tried again and again. His lungs seemed to burst and the pain was so great that he almost gave up. Almost.

Summoning his last, desperate strength he managed to move up. And up. And up. It seemed like the water was making way for him, like the water was literally pushing him up. Up, away from death. Up, to life.

And then suddenly he could breath again. He took a deep breath, water flowing out from his mouth. Death left his body and new life entered him.

And with his newfound strength he managed to swim to the shore, but there he finally passed out. But even in his sleep he could hear the voices whispering to him..

[Iituem]

Fire burned overhead.  Ahead of Nemani the plains of Incendium stretched out to the horizon, a barren wasteland of rock and ash, halted only by seas of magma and the rare patches of verdant ground.  This had been one such oasis, a dip in the ground filled with tough, hardy plants and spindly trees.  Now it was a bowl of mud and gore, a feasting ground for the countless smaller scavengers of the fiery world.  Ferals lay torn apart by spears and claws, the remains of two whole tribes who in their desperation had ground the very life they had sought to own with their boots in the battle.  The husk of a lone ironborn lay broken at the centre, its strange wheeled innards exposed for all to see, obscured partly by the towering shadow.

The shadow was cast by a six-armed, six-winged statue, towering over the barren oasis.  The statue held six blades and glared down upon the scene - upon Nemani - with unreserved wrath.  The elf felt fear beyond measure at the sight, but for all his awe he could not bring himself to bend knee.  His eye instead strayed to an animal resting by the statue's base.  The creature was not one of the dinosaurs of Incendium but a fox with golden eyes.  Nemani approached the fox and it burst into flight, leading the elven priest into chase.

Across the wastes of Incendium Nemani ran, scarcely noticing the thickening vegetation until it dawned upon him that now he chased the fox through a forest.  Thick branches whipped and slashed him across his exposed skin, but he kept running in pursuit of the fox.  The forest grew denser and denser, such that his pace slowed to a crawl as he fought through the ensnaring foliage, grabbing and tearing at branches trying to block his way.  The canopy thickened until all light was gone and Nemani clawed through the woods in near-darkness.

He emerged suddenly into a clearing.  Above shone a black sun, not in the red sky of Incendium but a blue one.  At the far edge of the clearing stood a familiar, daunting structure; one of the great stone altars of the Plateworld.  Its entrance was partially sealed by a great stone, such that only a small opening could be seen at its edge, unlit by the sun and tantalisingly dark beyond.  In the centre of the glade was a statue of a suspiciously familiar elf with a staff and an orb, standing with one foot upon a rather miserable-looking human.  Nearby was a silvered goblet and the fox, sat upon its hindquarters and watching Nemani intently.

"What's this all about?" Nemani asked of no-one in particular.

"Legacy," replied the fox.  Nemani studied the cruel figure in stone.

"That's not me," he said.

"It's how you were remembered," said the fox.

"How I was remembered?"

"When you died."

Nemani gave the fox a long stare, then eyed the goblet instead.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Something to discuss later," said the fox.  "Ask what you want to ask."

"Alright.  Why am I here, and why am I remembered this way?"

"You are here because you asked to be remembered," said the fox, "and you did not say how you wished to be remembered.  It was a selfish act, and a selfish life leads to consequences."

"I have not been selfish!" complained Nemani to the fox.  "Since I have been here I have brought culture and prosperity to these people!  I have provided them leadership and brought them together."

"Did they want to be brought together?" asked the fox.  "Even now, there are those who plot against you, who curse your name."

"They needed to be brought together," said Nemani, "whether they realised it or not."

"Perhaps," said the fox, "but it is as much your motives as your deeds that are in question.  You aided these people not for their sake, but your own.  You sought, and achieved, self-aggrandisement.  You have grown in power at every step, and you will bear the weight of it."

Nemani looked at the statue again, except now the triumphant elf was weighed down with a thousand stone chains, so heavy upon him that even his face was occluded by the restraints.  Fear struck Nemani again, gripping his heart like a vice.

"This is the face of Power," explained the fox.  "Power for its own sake, for the self, and not the many."

"You would not tell me these things if they could not be avoided, spirit," said Nemani, turning wrathfully to the fox.  "So tell me!  How can this fate be avoided?"  The fox turned and pointed with a paw to the distant Altar.

"By walking through that door."

"What should I expect there?"

"Death," said the fox, fixing Nemani's eyes with his own.  "Death and oblivion.  When you enter that place you will be no more."

"Fie!" cried the elf, recoiling.  "Do you seek to trick me, spirit?  Away with you, then!  I'll not kill myself over my conscience!"

"Then you must bear its weight," said the fox.  "You will face trials, you will suffer."

"At the hands of the gods, then.  Why have they involved themselves?"

"You accepted the aid of the one who is Knowledge, did you not?" said the fox.  "Do not complain, then, when the others involve themselves.  It is you who set the rules of your game.  Now you must play by them."

"You mentioned trials.  What trials must I face?" asked Nemani.  The fox pointed to the goblet.

"Within that cup, you will find your answer."

Nemani picked up the goblet and shuddered at its contents.  It appeared to be mere liquid, but its surface resembled that of a great, lidless eye.  Possessed of a strange urge, Nemani reached into the goblet and pulled from it five snakes of different colours.  He began to scream, and one of the snakes bit him in the hand and it turned to stone.


-----


Nemani awoke to a cold sweat.  He looked quickly around himself - he was in his room, a small recess at the back of the temple.  He ran his fingers over his face and tried to shake himself back to reality.

A knock came at the door.  Nemani quickly pulled on his trousers, checking the dagger beneath his reed mattress.

"Enter," said the priest.  Tasset entered and saluted.  Nemani gave a short salute in response.  "What is it, Tasset?"

"A murder in town, holiness," said the commander.  "Looks like a robbery gone wrong."

"We seem to be having a lot of those lately," said Nemani.  "What are the particulars?"

"Head caved in with a rock.  Simple as that, really - we found the rock lying by the mattress.  The thief may have gotten in through the window."

"Brilliant.  Alright, well, now that we have these laws I'm trying to impose, we should enforce them.  Keep your men especially on watch for thieves and suspicious strangers."

"Kill the perpetrator?" asked Tasset.

"Bring him to me.  I'll judge and sentence him, then you kill him.  We have to show justice being done, see?  If we just kill people without approval, we're criminals ourselves."  Tasset raised an eyebrow but saluted anyway.

"As you say, holiness."  He turned to leave, but Nemani stopped him.

"Ah, Tasset?  Have you heard anything about snakes lately?"

"Snakes, holiness?  Can't say I have, no.  Why?"

"Oh, nothing.  Just bad dreams."

[Digital Hellhound]

Arethe smiled, and the man whimpered. She pushed some of the knives closer so they touched the old man's skin. There were seven of them, all hovering in the air beside his head. Arethe had to keep reinforcing the 'threads' moving them every two minutes or so, but as long as she kept her concentration, it was no difficult task. She still had some difficulty controlling this new... gift of hers. Two days ago it had been almost impossible to control.

' Now... are we agreed?' she asked, beginning to spin the knives around the man's head. Some made small cuts into the man's neck, and he flinched every time it happened. ' You won't bother me?'

The man nodded quickly, eyes full of terror. Arethe had begun to realize she quite enjoyed this. She hadn't had any idea how powerful a weapon fear was.
She would not have to sleep in the woods any longer. This man lived alone, making his living by selling small crafts. At the far wall of the room stood a shelf full of tiny, wooden objects, from tiny statues to spoons and cups. Things everybody needed. The human had lost both his wife and only daughter a year earlier, and as a result, the house had space. An empty bed for her, and a third of the man's earnings would go to her. She didn't need money, as this had proved, but just threatening people would quickly bring guards on her doorstep.
Such a perfect location as well, on the edge of the town. The house had an attic, even though it was otherwise only a one-storey building.

She sank the knives into the floor, and the man let out a sigh of relief. Arethe pulled him up from the floor, and whispered 'If you try to get help, in any way, I won't kill you. Y'see, I think I can stop all the blood from coming out of your body, so I can just poke you full of holes and you'll be perfectly fine. You can probably guess what it'd feel like.'
 
That wasn't entirely true, though. While she could probably keep it up for atleast a few hours, the threads would still collapse if left alone. She had no intention of staying around just to torture the man when she had other things to do. Althought, the idea did begin to seem more and more attractive the more she thought about it....
Even if the man brought in the town guards, or an angry mob, one of the very first things she had learned was how to... 'blur' her face by manipulating the air in front of it.
Still, she doubted that. Fear would kept his mouth shut.
 
' Get back to work, then. I'll be upstairs. Have fun!' Aretha smiled again, prompting the human to flinch and practically run to his workshop.
 
This place would be perfect. Now, it was time to figure out what to do next...

[Lordinquisitor]

So the war came to an halt. Most of his brothers and sisters showed no ambition to attack astra`ath. Gheronaton was a brave warrior, yet attacking astra`ath alone wasn`t as brave as it was mad.

Yet, even astra`ath seemed to stay calm. At least.

But know Gheronaton experienced something he hadn`t quite experienced before: Boredom. He was a god with the might to create everything he desired, yet he was bored.

He wanted to compete with his brethern, but the other gods were hesitant to wage war. Some of them even seemed to act only through mortals, as proven by that elf nemani..

Mortals. That was the solution. And Gheronaton knew what he had to do.

By using his powers he creates another world, but this time he incorporates designs of many other worlds.

Seven continents there were, and thousand smaller islands, separated by oceans of salt water. Then he placed mountains and hills, forests and plains, lakes, rivers and swamps of fresh water, deserts and glaziers, caves and vast undergroung caverns, volcanoes and canyons and some seas of magma in the most inhospitable regions.. Even natural disasters were there, though they were less common than on Incendium.

Long he labored, until he had created something magnificient. A World which seemed to be a combination of every other known world.

And then he populated the world with creatures he already controlled: Creatures from Incendium were brought to the virgin world, but also creatures found and catched on aether and creatures from the world of plates.

Then he promised the various races of the universe a place to live and many settlers eagerly settled down in the new world.

The Humans, the dwarves, the ferals, the elves of aether, the elves of the forest, the orcs, the goblins, the giants, the avengers and the halflings. In due time countless more should arrive.

The Firstborn then descended to the world and taught each race different things and over the time they evolved and adapted themselves to the new world.

And when he thought that the world was ready, he contacted every god and even astra`ath.

"Brothers and Sisters.. And Astra`ath. I created a world where we might compete in peace and watch the prowess of our mortals. I ask each of you to add a touch of your own, something to make the world more unique and suited for it`s task. The only rule is that no god shall assume rulership over this world, and that no one shall alter the world too much. The World shall be christened Arena."

Gheronaton creates a world, similar to the earth with all imaginable features. Races and Creatures are imported. The races in general have more knowledge than they did on their homeworld, like building castles and cities, but generally live as they did before.

The World is called Arena. Arena orbits no star in particular but floats through the universe, "visiting" each planet in turn, without colliding with it.

Change to the avengers living here: They don`t hunt cowards anymore but build fortresses under the surface and torture mortals they capture."

[dragnar]

"A world on which the mortals might test their skills against each other? Interesting... But there needs to be more of a prize than merely the joy of victory I think."

Dragnar travels around Arena, searching for a place that suits his needs. Eventually he finds one, a place where the many environments of Arena meet, a neutral ground where no race will have an advantage over any other. Here he causes a great city to spring forth, grander than any the races have ever seen. But this is not the prize he speaks of, the true prize for those who can hold this place in underground,  in the center of the city. There lay a magical wellspring of power, a power source that one could slowly become attuned to by meditating in the chamber that contained it. The more attuned a being became, the more they could tap into this power and use it for themselves, slowly becoming powerful wizards, capable of reshaping reality to their whim.(basically, the longer a race can hold the city, the stronger the mages they have access to will become)

Dragnar creates the city of Estarthis and the magical power source within.

[forsaken1111]

Astra'ath vanishes from the universe, along with the Eye of Terror, in a sudden cosmic burp.