The History of the Dead Lands
Luckily, Jel'se'ah was waiting for me, and had reserved space for my family and I. I can still feel the eyes of the people that couldn't get in, staring at me. If I could have, I would have let one of those poor souls take my place, but I had a wife and child to take care of, and I couldn't bare to see harm come of them. At first, life took a bit of getting used to in Kyron (what with so many people outside the gates all day, everyday). But within a few months, word got out that Kyron was no longer accepting any more refugees, and the people stopped coming. For years, Kyron thrived. The city was brimming with every known, intelligent race on Athas, and Preservers and Druids made life very comfortable. It was wonderful, and I got to see my child grow into a man, a brilliant mage, and a Master of the Way. His name was Bariia, and he was a beautiful boy. His mother (of human lineage) granted him his handsome looks, wisdom, and great charm and eloquence. I (of gnomish lineage, as you know) gave him his great intellect, if I do say so myself. He helped me teach his mother the arts of magic (as I always had so little patience to teach those who weren't gifted in that sense). Eventually, I taught them the spell that would keep them young for as long as they lived. It was a joyous time in my life. But let it be said that Rajaat can smell peace and prosperity miles away, and he couldn't allow us, the Unpure Ones, to have that. I often wonder why all this happened, why Rajaat had to destroy my, and countless others', life. I asked my wife this once, and she replied "Life isn't fair," and I can see how this is true. Roughly nine years after I first entered Kyron, Jel'se'ah's first ward faltered. It was in the middle of the night, and I remember awakening to hear my boy and his mother screaming in unison, in panic and fright. Seconds later, an enormous balls of gaseous flame streamed down from the heavens, igniting a small portion of the city and it's inhabitants. I ran outside as quickly as I could, where I met the entire magic- weilding folk of the community. I never before realized just how many of us there were, but my first glance of the scene told me that far more than a quarter of the city's people could cast spells! It was glorious: teams of Psionicists, Preservers and Druids joining forces to obliterate their foes from the sky. And obliterate they did, for not two hours after the first volley of fireballs was launched, our town had won the day. That was a day marked with excitement and joy (for destroying our foe), but at the same time, an overwhelming feeling of doom permeated the air, for now that our cities location was known, we were as good as dead. Early the next day, Jel'se'ah called a meeting of all the towns mages and Druids. Hundreds of us crammed into a large, underground meeting hall, awaiting patiently for our leader to speak. She addressed the group calmly, but signs of stress and anxiety wore through her peaceful visage, betraying her real emotions. Jel'se'ah had made a decision: she informed the group that she, I, and a group of four clerics known as the "Four Forces" were to combine our efforts and devise a plan to save Kyron from the wrath of Rajaat's evil armies. Time was on our side, as Jel'se'ah estimated it would take a bit over nine years for the armies to find us. The rest of the people at the meeting would help write and cast the spell. The entire dweomer would be orchestrated by all of us by employing the powers of an artifact called Hax. Hax brought minds together, blending them so that all thoughts, experiences, and feelings were known and felt as one. Fusing our minds together would be the most efficient way of sharing ideas, and would minimize the time needed to create such a powerful spell.
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