#Fireball is just a well known magic poem!

[arcadeofinfinitestardust]

To start suddenly infodumping about Stardream (my personal fantasy universe that I use for my none-horny stories), or to reclude into my blankets and hide?

[skyfireflight]

Midnight’s Dawn, Chapter 4

Pre-series/Pre-canon (AU): The story of Xadia’s history before and leading up to the continent’s split, and how Elarion met Aaravos.

Story Summary: Dragons were not kind to humans. Nor were most elves. But Elarion was willing to take that risk. She had to, to save everyone she loved.

Chapter Summary: Elarion embarks on a journey.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3

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Part 1: Sun

Chapter 4

Elarion, confused, frightened

brought her white branches toward the night

- from Elarion’s poem

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That had been a year ago. A year since she had connected to the sun arcanum and had gotten primal magic.

But now that very thing that had fascinated her, that brought her such wonder, that had saved her village and her loved ones’ lives….

…had brought destruction and death down on them. And not just on her own village, not just on herself, but on all humans, and especially the human mages.

But why was that the dragons’ business, anyway? What did it matter to them, that the humans could have magic of their own? Why did it anger them so much that they would kill humans for it? Was “humans being true to their roots” so important to them?

All these thoughts whirled around in Elarion’s mind. It didn’t make any sense, make any sense at all.

But logical or no, the fact of the matter was that her people, people she loved, and humans she didn’t know, were in danger.

She had to do something about it.

In that same book in the library that told her that humans could make their own connections to magic, she’d read about a place called the star nexus. High up on a mountain top, it had said, where the magic of the stars was at its purest and strongest. Where startouch elves often resided.

But the book didn’t say which mountain, or guarantee that startouch elves would be there.

But that didn’t matter.

Elarion packed a bag with all the necessities for travel on the road – food, which there was now always plenty of, blankets, changes of (warm) clothes, a refillable container of water. Her spell book, of course; this she carefully slid into her bag, careful to cushion it against the bag’s side and her clothing. There was nothing like a tent in her village; she’d have to make do with the blankets or an inn along the way.

She didn’t know how long her journey would take her, though. Days? Weeks? Would she even find who she was looking for at all? She hoped what supplies she had would be enough. There was some money that she’d saved tucked down into the bag’s inside pocket, so she could buy things if need be in any town she passed through.

Though, she’d heard that elves didn’t use money. Which was weird – what did they use instead, a barter system that humans had abandoned because of its inefficiency? But hopefully she wouldn’t have to venture too close to elven territory, and she had no plans to go into their towns or cities. It was well known elves didn’t treat humans kindly.

Ironic, considering who she was seeking out.

It was night now. Her mother had already fallen asleep, and Elarion had snuck out of bed, gotten dressed, and packed her brown travel bag by the dim light of a candle. Packing beforehand would have made her mother suspicious. And there was no way Mom would have agreed to her plan, agreed to let her go.

Elarion swung her bag over her shoulder, across her body. Setting a piece of paper next to the candle so she could see, she wrote her mom a note.

Mom,

I’m going to look for the startouch elves. If I can find them and make them listen to me, maybe they can make the dragons stop attacking and killing us. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I have to do this. Please don’t worry about me.

I love you.

Elarion

Her mother would think Elarion was crazy, she knew. But even though it was a long shot, longer than a shot from the other side of the world to where they were now, Elarion had to at least try.

She folded the note once, and placed the candlestick on it so it wouldn’t be knocked or blown off the table. Then she turned and looked at where her mother was still sleeping peacefully on the bed, giving her one more long glance. Who knew how long it would be until she would see her again? Finally, she forced herself to tear her eyes away.

Softly blowing out the candle, Elarion quietly went out the door, left her house, her mom, her home.

As quickly and as silently as she could, Elarion traversed down the cobblestone streets, then past where they ended, and set out onto the grassy plain. The night was brightened up stars littering the sky above her, the half-moon illuminating her surroundings enough for her to see where she was going without a lantern.

She made it halfway to the forest, the village still in sight on the horizon behind her, when she heard it.

Oh, no. She knew that sound.

A roar. An angry roar.

Elarion whirled around, breath caught in her throat, her bag hitting against her side at the momentum.

A huge thing of red and yellow blotted out the glittering stars in the sky, one of its wings shadowing the moon in sweeps as they moved in the air.

A sun dragon.

And it was heading straight for the village.

As Elarion could only stand stalk still and stare, the dragon opened its mouth, set with rows of long, sharp teeth, a ball of searing red and orange flames, ready unleash it and set fire to –

No! Notagainnotagainnotagain NO!

“HEY! HEY!!!” Elarion screamed at the dragon as loud as she could, her voice echoing and carrying over the valley. She frantically whispered a spell – lux splendida – and drew a rune with adrenaline-shaking fingers, then pushed her palm up in the air.

A giant flash of bright yellow light burst from her palm like a signal flare – just what she was hoping it would be.

“HEY!!! OVER HERE!!! I’M THE ONE YOU WANT!!!”

The fireball in the dragon’s mouth dissipated, and the dragon turned its large head in Elarion’s direction, its glowing yellow slit-pupil eyes pinning her with its stare in the dark.

Then it flapped its wings, the air whooshing loudly in the otherwise still night.

Turned its body in the sky.

Opened its mouth full of teeth.

Formed another sphere of roiling flames.

Moved – flew – fast, straight toward her.

ROARR!!!

Crap!

Elarion turned and ran. The forest was ahead of her. If she could get to it in time, be covered by the trees –

But there was no way she could outrun a dragon. Already it was gaining on her – she fleetingly wondered if the people in her village had been woken up by the roaring, if her mother had noticed Elarion was gone – bearing down on her from the sky.

What was she thinking? No, she knew what she was thinking – that she had to get the dragon away from her village, away from her mother and aunt and cousin and friends.

A roaring blast of fire streamed down and lit the grass behind her, nearly knocking her off her feet, the air searingly hot at her back, instantly causing her to sweat and for the back of her dress to stick to her skin.

Elarion screamed, and ducked on instinct, her head down and her weaving to the side. Not that it mattered. The dragon had a wide range.

The trees were getting closer and closer, larger and larger in her view. Tall, towering shadows in the darkness.

Elarion couldn’t help but think how ironic it was; normally she would be terrified of going into the woods at night, of the tunnels of darkness that loomed before in the spaces between the trees. Who knew what creatures, or vagabonds, were hiding there, waiting for some unsuspecting human?

But she had been willing to brave the night woods, and now, they would be her sanctuary.

Hopefully.

Closer. Closer. As Elarion closed the distance to the trees, the angry dragon was closing the distance behind her and above her, bursts of firestreams still raging from its jaws to the air and grass behind her. If it had been daytime, one would have been able to see the air shimmering with heat.

Elarion knew that she couldn’t have been running more than a minute, but it felt like hours as her feet pounded the ground, trying to gain speed, her breathing coming in hard, labored pants, her skin and parts of her clothes soaked with sweat, beads of it rolling off her face and arms.

Closer. Closer.

Closer. Closer.

Closer.

She had almost reached the cover of the trees when the dragon caught up to her.

The tail end of a searing bolt of flames hit her legs, and she screamed. Red-hot agony raced up her nerves, and she stumbled, catching herself with her hands and wrists on flaming grass.

How, she had no idea, but Elarion was able to push herself up and throw herself past the tree line, and into the forest.

She her back hit the dirt and a few fallen leaves, a split second before she wondered if this really was a sanctuary at all, if the dragon wouldn’t set the forest on fire to get to her.

But it didn’t.

The dragon stopped. Then, with a roar, the dragon flew up back in the sky, thankfully away from her village, Elarion seeing glimpses of its form through the spaces in the tree branches.

Thank the stars, Elarion thought. She didn’t know why the dragon had turned back, especially when many other dragons – and maybe, probably, even this one, too – were killing mages. Why had it just chased her, then, and stopped at the woods? Maybe it didn’t want to endanger other creatures – creatures, animals, that the dragons valued above humans – living in the forest?

Maybe. Most likely.

Nor did she know where the dragon was going now. Her first thought was instant and sickening: back to her village, now that Elarion herself was out of reach?

No. No, she wouldn’t think about that. She refused to think about that.

That dragon was going home, wherever its home was.

That’s what she was going to tell herself. That was the answer she would stick to.

Now, she would just focus on how glad she was that the dragon was gone, and had left her alone.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and instantly hissed as she felt sharp, stabbing pain hitting her with full force. The adrenaline must have kept her from feeling it, but now she did, hot, agonizing burning on her back, legs, wrists, and hands.

Elarion sucked in another breath, and forced herself to breathe deeply. It would be okay. She had healing magic; that would take care of it. She could do this.

It was too dark for her under the cover of the trees for her to see, but she was sure that her skin was blistered and raw. She didn’t know how deep or severe the burns were, but it didn’t matter. It would be just like when she healed burns after the village was first attacked by a dragon, she told herself.

Elarion first scooted farther into the woods, away from the tree line. Her hands trembled against her will, still a little shaky from what just happened, and in pain from the burns, but she was able to steady her right hand just enough to draw the familiar rune – a rune even slightly off would not work, or at least not how it should, she had learned. Her voice was an airy, shaky whisper.

“Sa-sana…hoc…ardeat.”

With the incantation, the rune disappeared, the light whisping toward her and settling into her burned skin. Elarion let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. The pain was gone.

She let herself rest and breathe for a moment.

But she couldn’t stay here.

Okay. Okay, Elarion. You can do this.

It was still some time until the sun rose, and she needed to get some more distance from the village before then. It didn’t matter how tired she was.

Adjusting her bag, Elarion hoisted herself to standing, and by the limited view the conjured light ball in her hand allowed – it only let her see a few feet in front of her –, she found the well-worn forest road, and continued on.

_______________________________

It was daybreak by the time her light ball fizzled out, thank the stars. She didn’t want to be caught in the woods at night without a light source. And though the magical light ball itself drew from the sun, a power source outside herself, it still took mental effort and concentration to form a spell in the first place, let alone keep one constantly running.

With a full night without sleep, energy sapped away from the scare and physical effort of running away from a fire breathing sun dragon, getting burned and healing those burns, her focus wavered, the light ball stuttering a few times a couple hours before the stars began to fade.

There was no sign of a human settlement within her line of sight, and she wasn’t about to go hunting for one. Or sleep out in the middle of the road. Elarion went off the path and a little deeper into the woods, and crashed there, curled up in a blanket between some tree roots, finally getting some much-needed sleep.

______________________________

He didn’t know what to do. He’d been sent out by the Dragon King – him, along with many others – to teach the humans a lesson, to put them back in their place. His particular orders were to go to the human village where the humans committed the crime; while the one sent before him was supposed to scare the humans into realizing that arcanum magic was not for them, not their right, it clearly hadn’t worked. The human mage still practiced the magic forbidden to it.

So, now there had to be more drastic measures.

No more simple scares, or warnings. No.

Apparently, destruction was the only language the humans understood.

Destroy the human settlements, and kill all the human mages. They dared to reach for magic that was not for them? They would have no magic at all.

But then he saw the human who had started it all – the one seen practicing sun magic without a primal stone, leaving the settlement.

With that human away from the village, did he still destroy the village anyway, now that the one who committed the crime wasn’t there?

Or did he follow the human and destroy it, make it pay for its own crimes?

He didn’t know.

So, now, he was flying back to his superiors. They would tell him what he needed to do.

_____________________________

It turned out walking in the dark with nothing but an orb of light that only illuminated a few feet ahead wasn’t good for one’s sense of direction.

After getting some rest, brushing off her clothes and smoothing her hair as best she could, and eating, she hefted her bag over her shoulder and stepped back onto the road.

She looked back and forth along the road.

And she…didn’t recognize anything.

No landmarks she knew from the times she visited other human settlements.

She was lost.

Crap.

The only thing she recognized at all were the mountains on the far horizon, a blur of blue-gray crowned by white; the mountains where she hoped – prayed – she would find the Startouch elves – and that they would listen to her and help save her people, and that this journey wouldn’t be for nothing.

Wait….

Elarion stared into the distance and squinted. Before the mountains, along the road and past the trees, she could see what looked to be settlements.

But…they didn’t look like any human settlements she’d ever seen. They seemed too large, the architecture she could just barely see from here was shaped differently, shaped as if –

Oh. Oh no.

Elarion’s heart sank into the sickening dread-almost-panic twisting in her stomach.

They were elven settlements.

Most elves were not kind to humans. What would she do if she met any on the road? And there was no way she could rest in an inn at this point. She’d have to sleep in the woods, off the road like she had last night. And what if her food ran out? She couldn’t go to an elven city or town to buy any – they didn’t use money anyway, and they probably wouldn’t want to sell anything of theirs to a human.

She could feel herself starting to shake. Elarion forced herself to take a slow, deep breath, closing her eyes.

Okay, Elarion, she told herself. Calm down. Calm down. Just…. Her thoughts stuttered and stalled. “Just” what? She stared down the road, her eyes going to the mountain top, then the elven settlements, then to staring at the mountains’ base as she scrambled to get her thoughts going again.

Finally, she did.

She would just keep going. She could sleep just off the road, and travel alongside it under the cover of trees, or travel at night and sleep during the day. And if she ran out of food, well…. She would cross that bridge when she got there. For now, she would just go as quickly as she could, and ration her food, and hope it would be enough.

Okay, Elarion. Okay, you can do this.

Rolling her shoulders and steeling herself, adjusting her bag strap, Elarion nodded to herself, and headed down the road.

_____________________________

Rationing the food wasn’t hard. The year of the famine made small meals easy to get used to quickly, plus the bread, and cheese and other things she could use to make a sandwich, were filling enough.

She hoped the cheese wouldn’t mold before she used it, she pondered at one point when she stopped to eat. She hadn’t thought about that when she had been packing.

The first day, Elarion traveled when it was still light out; she had woken up in the early afternoon, and of course, it was best she cover as much ground as she could while awake, taking short, few-minute breaks to rest and eat.

At sunset of the first day – still a bit a ways away from encountering the first elven settlement, to her relief – she pondered whether or not to stop or keep going. She would keep going, she reasoned; she wasn’t that tired. She looked up to the stars; the midnight star was there, blinking steadily like a heartbeat from its place above her, framed by the trees that lined the road. It was as if it were encouraging her to go on, telling her that she could do this.

She powered through the night, and stopped again when the sun rose too far above the horizon for Elarion’s comfort – about mid-morning. The mountains were getting ever closer. But so were the elven towns. As Elarion curled up against a tree trunk to rest, with roots on either side of her, she tried not to think about it.

On the third day, the elven settlements were no longer just a blur of swirl-shaped roofs on the horizon. They were right by the road, or just a bit of a ways off the road, very much in sight. She saw glimpses of the people who lived there, horned heads and sharp-pointed ears – though the horns were the most immediately noticeable to her – milling about between far buildings or traveling on the road. She saw glimpses of their clothing, too, when they walked on the road; brightly colored and elaborately designed, some with patterns that matched the ones on their buildings – different than the styles Elarion was used to seeing.

Thankfully, though, there was plenty enough tree cover for her to hide in and avoid being noticed.

Not halfway through the fourth day, Elarion would find another reason to be thankful for the tree cover.

_____________________________

Follow the human, his king had said. And kill it. It shall pay for its crimes.

And so he would. He turned back to the road the human had been near that night, and followed along it. It had been a few days travel since, but humans couldn’t traverse near as fast as dragons. A few hours later, he could see its shape on the road. A glimpse of it from far off told him where it was headed. But it ducked into the trees, and he couldn’t just set the forest on fire. There might be elves or other powerful magical creatures who would get caught it in.

Not to mention it was headed toward elven towns and cities.

Nevermind that. He could wait. He would bide his time until it came out from the protection of the trees and surrounding elves.

And then…he could toy with it, have some fun, before killing it.

His king also didn’t specify how he should kill it.

And no one was here to scold him for playing with his food.

About a quarter of the day through the fourth day, a dragon flew overhead.

____________________________

Elarion was walking alongside the road. She had tried to sleep, but couldn’t, the light glaring too brightly between the branches. The hard ground hadn’t helped either; even with the blankets and trying to smooth the ground from any stray sticks or leaves, it didn’t help much. She’d tossed and turned for probably about an hour, she guessed, before finally giving up.

There was a long break between the towns, and if anyone where to be on the road, she would be able to see them from long way off, with enough time to duck back into the trees before anyone could notice she didn’t have horns. So she decided, with that relative safety, she would make the most of her being awake and cover some more ground.

Elarion dreaded the thought of having to sleep who-knows-how-many days more on the rough ground. And all because she got lost and got herself away from any human inn.

I could have waited just a few more hours, Elarion berated herself as she walked along, hugging the treeline just in case. Left in the early morning, right when the sun rose, before anyone else got up.

Then she would have gone in the right direction, and –

Her thoughts were cut off.

A heavy wooshing sound came from above her. Elarion looked up to see yellow and red flying past.

Scales. Claws. A tail.

Dragon!

For a moment, Elarion froze. Then she dashed back into the trees, where the dragon hopefully wouldn’t see her if it looped back.

Please don’t have seen me. Please don’t have seen me. Please don’t come back and see me. Don’t see me. Don’t see me. Don’t see me.

Her beat frantically as she pressed herself against the truck of a tree several yards from the road, curling up with her knees against her chest as she tried to calm herself down.

She buried her face in her hands.

Calm down. Calm down. Just, calm down.

She dropped her hands and leaned back against the tree, and forced herself to take deep, slow breaths until her heart calmed a bit.

Her first thought, then, was, was it the same dragon that came to her village? Was it following her? Had it burned down her village and was chasing her now?

Stop, Elarion commanded herself, feeling herself starting to go into panic mode again. Stop it.

She shoved those thoughts and questions into the back of her mind. She couldn’t think about that now.

Besides, for all she knew, it was a completely different dragon, anyway. Dragons could fly anywhere they pleased, and many sun dragons looked the same. It wasn’t necessarily the same one. Wasn’t necessarily following her. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

Still…it wouldn’t hurt to rest for a bit. To lay low for an hour or two.

She settled herself back against the tree, and took some more from her ever-dwindling food supply.

Elarion shook her head, dispelling worry threatening to flood her thoughts. She still had a lot of food left. It would last.

It has to last.

And…that was another wooshing sound.

Elarion looked up toward the noise.

A flapping sound.

More wings.

Another dragon.

She could feel the heat of panic start up again, but Elarion shook her head sharply and took a deep, slow breath for what must have been the hundredth time in ten minutes.

It must be another dragon.

Or, it was the same one circling back.

Another woosh of loud wings, coming back her way. Then over her again, from the other direction.

Oh, crap.

It was circling back.

Muscles tense, Elarion waited, staring up at the spaces between the tree branches, and seeing glimpses of the same red and yellow scales.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Elarion lost count.

Finally, finally, the sound of large, flapping wings became quieter, and quieter, until they faded completely, off in the distance, and yellow and red no longer appeared above the trees.

Elarion felt most of the tension leave her all at once, and she practically slumped against the tree. Except for one hard knot of tension that still remained; with all the worried thoughts swirling around in her head – what if that dragon comes back what if my food runs out what if I run into elves is my mom okay is my village still there what if dragons burned it down – she couldn’t let herself relax now. If – no, when – she found the Startouch elves, and her people were saved, then she could let herself fully relax.

But for now, she had to keep going.

The sun was high in the sky now, just beginning its downward trek. Elarion debated for moment: should she try to sleep some more now? Or cover more ground, since it seemed the dragon was gone, at least for the moment?

She would keep going, she decided. At least while it was light. Elarion pushed herself off of the ground, and went to the edge of the road, walking alongside it.

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Sleeping nights in the forests, Elarion spent the days hugging the edge treeline. Several times, she had to duck back behind the trees to avoid begin seen by traveling elves, and a few times, the sun dragon – by now she was pretty sure it was the same one – flew over, and she scrambled to hide at least thirty feet into the forest until she was absolutely sure it was gone.

Now, it was the tenth day, and nearly evening. Elarion paused and braced herself against a tree. The bark rough against her hand, and she could feel the cold emanating from it. Winter would be here soon, and while she did have warm clothes in her bag, she worried that if the weather turned too cold, even that wouldn’t be enough.

Past the road ahead, the mountains were far, far closer now than they had been. Maybe in a day’s time, Elarion estimated, she would be there at the mountain’s base, and she would have to start climbing. And that would be dangerous.

Especially dangerous to do while exhausted. The dragon sightings, plus the fear of animals and the mental weight of her journey, and what she had to do and the consequences of failure, made sleeping an unbroken eight hours nearly impossible. Sleeping on the hard ground, even with the blankets, hadn’t helped.

There were two more elven settlements until she got to the mountains. One, which looked like a larger city, was directly at its base. But – she peered past the blue haze at the horizon, and the road looked like it forked before the city, still under the cover of trees, and leading up into the mountains – it could easily be avoided.

The first settlement appeared to be smaller, more of a town, though still larger than Elarion’s village.

And that one was much closer.

The thought of resting in an inn, sleeping in an actual bed after days on the road, filled Elarion with longing. A good night’s sleep would help her – even of only a little – with the climbing she would have to do starting tomorrow. And the thought of sleeping outside in the woods tonight made her want to cry.

But elves were not kind to humans. She knew that sometimes humans interacted with elves, and it was not forbidden to enter an elven city, per se, but…who knew if they would let her have a room, if they had an inn. Not to mention, elves didn’t use money. Would they accept her money, even as a trade? She didn’t know if she did have anything to trade for a night of boarding. There were few things she had with her from which she was willing to part, and a blanket or a set of clothing – human clothing, at that - wasn’t worth much in comparison to what she would be bargaining for.

Still, she would take that risk.

…And she would keep her cloak hood up, just so she wouldn’t be singled out on the street.

Okay, she thought. I can do this.

[ciathyzareposts]

Challenge of the Five Realms: Won!

The game reverts to its preferred likeness of the Prince in the final scenes.

             I began this session with three places left to visit: the village of Arinor, Mount Shaska and its portal to the realm of Aerieus, and the island of Vinazia, home of my treacherous uncle, Duke Gormond. Gormond, you may recall, had invaded Castle Ballytogue early in the game, stealing my father’s crown and declaring himself the King of Alonia. I had resisted attacking him early in the game just because his castle is far to the north and the destruction was creeping up from the south.

From Havenshire, I had Stellerex teleport us directly to Vinazia. No obvious port entry for us. I had hoped that the populace would rise with us against Gormond, but most of the NPCs on the island were hostile to me, and a few actually attacked. The “nicest” ones pointed out that I had a bounty on my head and that I’d be best off leaving as soon as possible.

              What do you mean “although”? Loyalty to my father is why I never cared for or trusted him!

            Castle Cologn was in the northwest section of the map, and its outskirts were patrolled by sorcerers, archers, and knights. I think I could have had nearly limitless battles against them, but I found that if I approached the castle by going up the east border and across the north border, I could avoid most of them. 

      Placing characters to defeat Gormond’s knights. This was a battle-heavy session.

        Entering the inner keep, I had a fixed combat with Sir Erigreen, Gormond’s bodyguard, and his retinue. They were hard, but with my “grouped” party members, I’m fielding 22 people, including five high-level archers. It took me only one reload to win with no losses on my side. Another battle followed with Sir Brandar, who Chesotor had known from his childhood.

Finally, we confronted Gormond, who remained defiant. He attacked us with no backup, which was never destined to work out well for him. I retrieved the crown from his corpse and put it on.

           Presumably I washed it first.

           After the battle, I ran into Gormond’s wife, Lady Percy. Mourning her husband, she gave me a set of letters that my father had written to Gormond, portraying me as a “weak, timid boy.” Clesodor actually said, “The thought of my son in power is sickening and frightening. I have considered naming you, Gormond, as my heir.” When I confronted her with the slaughter of innocents at Ballytogue, she said that Gormond’s lackey, Sir Blighton, had given that order, and that Gormond, aghast, had later executed Blighton for it. The sequence ended with my depressed character promising to restore Gormond’s good name when this was all over.

           Just when you thought dad couldn’t have been more of a jackass.

          Winning the battle didn’t convert the island, unfortunately, and the enemies wandering outside were still predisposed to attack us. The party thus teleported to Mount Shaska.

The entire map was just a snaking series of switchbacks between the bottom and top of the screen. The top of the screen held a large building, where oversized furniture bespoke the presence of a giant. I soon ran into the unfriendly but non-hostile creature. He said he wanted to be left alone to write poetry, which he hoped someone would find after his death and take seriously. As it was, people had trouble looking past his exterior and assumed he was a lousy bard.

             Which is more ominous when exploring an unknown lair: oversized furniture or mysteriously life-like statues?

           The giant offered to join the party if I took a book of his poems to the librarian in Silvermoor. I took the book but I never followed up on the side quest even though I assume it would have made the endgame easier.

A cave at the bottom of the Mount Shaska map held a dragon. He wasn’t hard to defeat, although I lost a couple of archers. Beyond the dragon was a portal to the final “realm,” Aerieus.

           There has been a shortage of dragons in this game. Now there is a greater shortage.

         Aerieus was another mini-world, with four map locations. Each consisted of a series of platforms with nothing but air in between, so the party had to have a “Fly” spell active during their visit. Every time we entered a building, the game mentioned that we weren’t skilled enough to fly indoors, and thus transitioned us to walking. But the denizens of Aerieus apparently fly all the time, even inside.

Aerieus was populated by a physically weaker, more refined race of humans, pretentious and arrogant. The capital city of Stratavon held the palace of the emperor and most of the realm’s elite. We soon learned that the citizens of the realm take a test on their 18th birthdays. Those that score 85% or higher are allowed to remain in Stratavon while the rest have to move to the lesser city of Burano. Retirees from both cities live in Fenaysia.

            What part of “at least” does Chesotor not understand?

          Combat, labor, and physical exertion are outlawed among the Aerians. It is a crime to break a sweat. Instead, they have a race of avian servants called Peregrines who do all the physical work. The Peregrines are forced to live in a lower city called Nyxx. 

         Don’t worry. I’ll solve all of this in a troublingly short time.

         As we arrived, the realm was in chaos. As with all the others, Grimnoth had recently killed the king, leaving his unprepared son in command. The new king, Vonarello, was facing two uprisings. The first was a group of agitators in Burano who wanted to destroy the caste system and allow every Aerian to live where he wanted. The second was a group of rebellious Peregrines, sick of being treated as slaves, who had stolen Stratavon’s Book of Wisdom. Finally, rumors of a planned assassination targeted Vonarello himself. 

          Aerieus took up multiple individual maps.

         Vonarello wouldn’t even talk to us until he was convinced that humans were more than just barbarians. Fortunately, I had collected a variety of artistic items–a painting, a sculpture, a book of philosophy, a musical instrument–and together these convinced Vonerello to help us.

We had to solve his problems first, of course. The assassin turned out to be a Senator Tonneridge, unmasked with a “Truth” spell. The same spell uncovered the leader of the Burano rebellion, a man named Renjec Taskmaster, who had recently been expelled from Stratavon for repairing his own roof. I worked with a senator named Glorenzia to broker an agreement between the two sides.

             Vonarello shows himself to be a reformer.

                     Finally, I worked with a Senator McKlennia to bring a peace agreement to the leader of the Peregrines, Quetzl Too. They agreed to go back to work, and return the Book of Wisdom, if the Aerians agreed to see them as more than just manual laborers. 

           I got the impression that it had been a recent revolution, but whatever.

          In the end, Vonarello joined the party. (I kicked out the archers, who by now had been reduced to two.) At last, I had all five crowns. Vonarello himself was utterly useless. He had no martial skills, and his high “mental” abilities did not translate into any spellcasting skills. 

          He could have at least learned to cast something.

         The last thing we did in Aerieus is to storm the den of a group of Peregrines who refused to follow Quetzl Too’s peace declaration. They had kidnapped an Aerian named Chauncey Garedener. (The name is taken from the hero of Being There, a 1979 Peter Sellers film that I highly recommend.) Vonarello declined to even participate in the battle, and I needed to take Gardener back with me to get a final component for the “Slay Evil” spell. Thus, I kicked Vonarello out of the party, taking a chance that I did not, in fact, need all of the kings with me at the final battle.

          Then you will not participate in this party.

          Having solved all of the problems in Aerieus, we returned to Alonia. Our last trip was a short jaunt to the village of Arinor, where a descendant of someone who had worked on Castle Thiris had a map leading to the Scrolls of Shamar. There were some Eskimos in Arinor, too, and they might have had some problems to solve, but I left as soon as I got the clue.

We returned to Thiris. We dug in the place indicated on the map–six paces north of the statue in the great hall–and found the Scrolls. These were the final components necessary for the “Restoration” spell. With all the crowns and spells in hand, the portal opened for us and took us to Ruddiquid, Grimnoth’s realm.

         Sorry about the floorboards.

          As we arrived, Cagliostra spoke from her mirror, suggesting that we use the “Restoration” spell to bring life back to the dead realm. I had Stellerex cast the spell, and a cut scene indicated that life had started to grow again and Grimnoth was thus weakened.

             Maybe Grimnoth has allergies.

         The “realm” consisted of a large maze with corridors patrolled by gargoyles, skeleton warriors, demons, fiends, and “Beezlroths.”

          The final area had a long, annoying maze.

         The enemies attacked individually, but some of them were immune to normal weapons (and I only had two magical ones), others were immune to spells, and some could cast spells themselves. Nothing in the game so far had prepared me for their difficulty. I had to save and rest after almost every battle.

          Their immunity to regular weapons made battles against single skeleton warriors long and difficult.

         Eventually, I made it to the center of the maze, where Grimnoth lingered near his throne. He attacked immediately. I had all three of my spellcasters target Grimnoth with “Slay Evil.” He launched fireballs before any of them could act, killing King Armacan (the gnome) and Emperor Claret III (the fish). But in the second round, one of my spells got through and Grimnoth died.

         The aftermath of the short battle.

         In a series of screens, Grimnoth’s countenance changed to that of a wise old man. He related that he was, in fact, the ancient Emperor Shamar.

             I’m not sure you get to keep the title indefinitely.

           The prince disbelieved him at first, but he explained that a thousand years ago, he had left his kingdoms to search for eternal life in Ruddiquid. He found it, but he was forced to remain in Ruddiquid, to which a portal opens only once every thousand years. Eventually, he got bored and decided to return to mortal life. But when he entered the dreams of the five kings to tell them of his plan, they ignored and rejected him.

           Grimnoth offers a bunch of excuses.

        Clesodor went so far as to hire a sorcerer to prevent the emperor’s return. But since he’d outlawed mages, the only wizard he could find was a “neophyte” named Shiliko–the one who killed himself in the game’s opening hour. The “drunken fool” cast a spell that caused Shamar’s physical body to live but his virtue to die, and he became Grimnoth. No word on where he got the name.

Shamar then related that he hadn’t killed the kings–he’d only imprisoned them in the jewels of their crowns, trusting that their “young, frightened, weak sons” would be no match for him. As we watched, he undid the spell and the five kings reappeared. 

  They all look guilty of something.

            There was a heated exchange between the Prince and his father:

                       It ended with the Prince vowing to imprison Clesodor in Monteplai for the rest of his life. “May you be haunted by nightmares of the terror you’ve inflicted.”

        Finally, Shamar expressed admiration for the Prince and named him the next Emperor of Nhagardia, offering to stay and serve as an advisor. We returned home and the Prince was crowned.

          The Prince and Grimnoth shake hands. Who would have thought?

          A final text scroll set up a potential sequel:

           And so, a new emperor’s time begins, and peace reigns over the land. But peace and conflict are eternally bound together. There cannot be one without the other. New threats loom in the world of Nhagardia. This was only the first of many challenges for the young Emperor. Can he maintain what so much blood and pain have won? Perhaps . . . only time will tell. For now, applause and excitement rule the day. But if you listen closely, you can hear the whispers of conspirators who plot with careful precision. And you can hear strange grumblings that shake the foundation of peace.

           There was a final screen–which I failed to capture–showing Clesodor in prison shouting, “No, no! How dare you!” before the DOS prompt.

           I don’t remember this promise, but I’m glad the unicorn got to come back to life.

          It wasn’t a bad ending, but I’d like to make several points:

             What happened to the cities that had already been swallowed by darkness? There was no mention of them.

Despite the early warning from Cagliostra that I needed to keep Felrid alive, as far as I can tell, he contributed nothing to the endgame.

I guess my assumption that all five kings needed to be with me was false. In that case, I should have gotten rid of most of them and favored more spellcasters in the party to help with the final battle.

I’m not entirely sure what “Restoration” actually did. I wonder if it’s possible to win without casting it.

I’ve never been a bit fan of the “you can’t have good without evil” sentiment prevalent in so much pop culture. But even if you buy that, I hope we can all agree that the idea that “there cannot be [peace] without [conflict]” is senseless. The literal definition of peace is an absence of conflict, and vice versa. Sure, nothing lasts forever, and conflict and peace both occur in cycles, but that’s a different statement than “they are eternally bound together.”

       Finally, I’m not a huge fan of the political implications of the ending, by which an emperor who has been gone for a thousand years suddenly decides to revive the empire and appoint an heir. Don’t the individual kingdoms have a say in anything? Does it even make sense for the five kingdoms to be unified into an empire? They’re in different dimensions and have wildly different cultures and values. 

             Nice use of the passive voice. Crowned by who?

          I’ll have more thoughts in the final wrap-up, of course. It’s nice to start 2020 with a victory.

Final time: 35 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/challenge-of-the-five-realms-won/