(IR) IR Interlude Turn 4 - 5 (thread 3)

The elderly man again approaches the gates of Veluna City.
The guards, under orders to let him pass, open the gates.

Through the streets of the ancient city, relatively untouched by the Barrage, strodes the man.
Yet his face is twisted in bitterness, and nothing he sees lessens that bitterment.

He knocks at the doors of the Church of Rao.
When the doorwardens see him, they back away, and let him pass.

The man enters the chamber of the sun, and sits on the stone edge of one of the great cisterns of water.

He looks around at the trees and shrugs growing indoors, in the lofty chamber.
He looks upward at the glass above, through which the sun shines brilliantly down on the holy edifice in the center of the great room.
He looks around at sparkling water, and carefully tended plants, with stone walkways between them.

He speaks, to nobody in particular:

There are three kinds of beings.
One kind are those guards out there. They do their jobs, try to survive, try to obey the laws, and try to endure the reality around them.
Then there are those who try to remake reality as they see fit. Some wish to remake reality to better those whose lot they think should be bettered, and some try to worsen everyone's lot. Yet they all try to remake what is.
Then there are those who try to unmake all that is, destroy the world and all that is in it, and they do this out of the darkness of their own hearts.

The Wanderer frowns darkly, and grumbles on in his husky, rough, aged voice.

Most of the Torilians are of the first sort.
I have no problem with them; they are as much victims as my own people.

The Wanderer growls angrilly.

If it had not been for the sacrifice, first of the Psionic League, then the Church of Toril, all the people of Toril would be dead.
Their world would have died.
Will such miracles save us??!

The Wanderer glares.

For the second kind of people run Toril.
They will have it all as they please.
They will rule men's lives, and tell all how they must be, and must act, and must live.
They are not content with ruling the lives of men!
The very winds of the world must blow as they see fit.
The climate is as they say it shall be.
The mountains, are sculpted to please them.
The oceans, are set at the temperature comfortable for them to bathe in.

The Wanderer looks really angry.

The animals must behave as they dictate.
The trees must grow as they are told.
Even the sun itself must shine as they desire it to.
In their arrogance, they choose to make themselves Gods, these rulers of Toril.

What right do they have to do any of this?
They appoint to themselves that right, and with their 11th level power, they enforce their dictates on all of reality.
They have forgotten the blessed coolness of autumn, the colors in the trees.
They have forgotten the beauty of the spring, the eager blooming of flowers.
They have forgotten the majestic mountain peaks, snow covered and untamed.
They have forgotten the viril aliveness in the howl of the wolf, the gleam of intelligence in the dolphin's eye.

No, for them it is all a playground, where the animals exist to perform stunts and amusements, and the trees grow sideways, or upside down, and the mountains are reshaped as they wish.

The Wanderer looks gloomy.

Then there are the Unmakers.
They killed and destroyed.
They ate children while they were still alive.
They wrecked magic, so that millions died.
They nearly blew up the entire world of Toril.
They took their frightful machines, and laid waste to the surface of the world.
They set chaos upon Realmspace, and nearly brought oblivion to all the Crystal Sphere.

The Wanderer looks up

The hearts of men, are the hearts of men.
They may say kindly things, they may pretend to change.
Yet I know - and YOU know - that the hearts of men, once set, do not change.
And that goes for the hearts of humanoids and demihumans too.

The Remakers and Unmakers of Toril came to my world.
They interfered in the doings of my world.
They did not ask permission of the people of our world to interfere.
They did not consult me, or any other leader of this world, before they interfered.
They began a process whose end cannot be foreseen, but which will - and has - cause tremendous loss of life, tremendous destruction, and they did not ask us how we felt about it.

The Remakers and Unmakers on THIS world eagerly jumped on what these Torilians started.
It caused a chain reaction.
It led to Vecna not being attacked.
Vecna should have been destroyed the moment he appeared in the Present.
Vecna should have been effaced from the Oerth the instant he appeared.

Why did you not do this, O Remakers and Unmakers of Oerth?
Did you think the Torilian Remakers and Unmakers would do it?
Why did you concentrate on each other, and let the Torilians divert your attention?
Why did you allow a mad dog to live?

My people are starving.
My people are hurt.
My people, are dead.

The Wanderer turns black with fury

The Barrage killed half my people.
I could not protect them, anymore than any of you could protect your people.
My people were innocent. They committed no crime, did nothing wrong.
My people were slaughtered because you failed to deal with Vecna, because you were too busy fooling around with the Torilian Remakers and their strange machines!

Now, the Unmakers of Toril, who you call the Shade, have created the Blood Waste, and it poisons my world, and sickens my people.
I do not see the other Torilian Remakers coming to stop these Torilian Unmakers.
I see that the Torilian Remakers just picked up, and went home, leaving our world to suffer the consequences of the Unmakers.

And you - YOU! - choose to participate in this Unmaking and Remaking.

You wonder why I am angry?

Who are you, to assume the rights of the Gods?
Who are you, to reshape the mountains and change the temperature of the seas?
Who are you, to make the sky the color you want it to be, and to change the alignment of all beasts to please yourselves?

And yet, that is the course you have chosen.
You walk in the footsteps of the Torilian Remakers.

What if no miracle comes for us?
What if there is no Psionic League or Church of Toril for us?
When our world perishes, I will perish with it, and you will perish with it, and we shall be unlamented.

I tried to stop you from walking this path.
My Sending was meant to stop you from choosing this path.
I am an elderly man with much wisdom, but my wisdom was ignored.

Now look around you, and behold the consequences of the road you walk.
Ruin.

Ruin.
Deserts. Red Poison. Millions of skeletal corpses.
Our people suffering, dying, starving.

The Wanderer glares

I know all about Hope Isle on Toril.
A nice place.
Why doesn't Hope Isle allow our people to enter?
Why don't the Angels allow our people to share the paradise?
If they are so lofty and noble as you make them out to be, then why do they choose to allow our people to rot in the desert this mad course of events has created?

I would like some answers to my questions.
I don't want excuses.
I don't want idiot reasons either.
I want good answers, and I have a right to expect good answers!

Do you hear me?
DO YOU HEAR ME?!
I EXPECT SOME ANSWERS!!
BY BEORY, I DEMAND THE EMISSARIES OF HOPE ISLE TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHY MY PEOPLE SHOULD SUFFER, WHEN THE PEACE OF HOPE ISLE COULD BE THEIRS?

An attractive young woman approaches the Wanderer. She is wears a dark purple robe, fastened with a brooch depicting a spiral. On the front of the robe is a strange symbol two shapes like the steps of zigguraut heading downwards.

"Ahh, Wanderer... So filled with hate... Wouldn't it feel so good to simply--let go and give in to it..."

She smiles at him.

"These people have already proven they do not care for your wisdom. Perhaps, they should feel your rage..."

(Double post)

Alzem looks sadly at the wanderer.

Do you really think that I have decided that your people should just stay here and die? Do you really think that! No, I do not believe that is what you believe. I think that your judgment has been clouded by grief and anger. Those that are sick and injured I have been given permission to take to a safe place to see to their health, but as you have no doubt noticed that I do not have the magical power here to move the number of people needed to go there.

The Angles came to Oreth to take your people to Hope Isle but not just those who were sick and injured but anyone and everyone who did not want to stay here. Can you imagine what would happen if 90% of the entire population of Oreth had left. The powers of this world would have had NO CHOICE but to declare war on Hope Isle to retrieve their people back, a move that would have destroyed them all! For as I do not have the power of 11th level magic here they would not have it there and for making war upon my Island for whatever the reason I would have destroyed them – utterly. Until there was not a soul left alive upon this planet who attacked me. I do not mean this as a threat but it is my standard police regarding attack upon my Island, one upon which the UC backs me on.

I am sorry for becoming agitated my friend, but it is not my place to dictate how a world is to be run. I had only created a place where people, any person could come and know peace from the war that were ravaging Toril, a plan I hope to bring to fruition on Oreth. And what will your people learn if they were to leave Oreth? Would they know their own strength or would they just hope that others will save them from their own rulers?

You come here saying that you were afraid that technology would be the destruction of your world, but was it? No it was a force of evil from your own past that has caused most of the devastation. Forrester who no longer fights in your war, due to his own problems back home was the one who killed Vecna, forever. Now you have power of your own. Who you really are no one is sure of, but all acknowledge you and your love of this world. But what have YOU done to stop this war, my friend? Some say that you are the reason that the Blood Waste as slowed its expansion, and I pray that this is true.

You say that Torillian Unmakers created the Blood Waste, but is this the complete truth? They might have been born on Toril, but I am not even sure of that. They are a force in the universe, a force that just seeks to destroy all they touch, for the sheer pleasure of watching it die. They are a force that can never be forever crushed, but one that must be fought over and over, and the reason that I believe Forrester had to leave here, to protect his world from being consumed in darkness.

You say

Who are you, to assume the rights of the Gods?
Who are you, to reshape the mountains and change the temperature of the seas?
Who are you; to make the sky the color you want it to be, and to change the alignment of all beasts to please yourselves?

And yet, that is the course you have chosen.
You walk in the footsteps of the Torilian Remakers.

Click to expand...

And I say they have this right as they are the children of this world, and not I, You, or anyone may tell them how their world shall be. For they are the gods of this land, but as with all things there will be change, but not always for the best. Look as a child is born its mother will love it and sacrifice everything for her unborn child but when the time has come the child WILL be born, born in both blood and pain. That is what is happing here my friend, our world is giving birth to a new age. We may either assist our children in this difficult time, or we may turn away from them and let then do this on their own, a choice that will leave a path of blood across the entirety of Oreth. So Wanderer I ask you now, will you help me now to save as many as we can, and show them a paradise that can be theirs. One in which every person will fight and even die to achieve of their own free will, and not just because their leaders say so?

The Wanderer glares at the woman (see Rhialto's post above), then snarls:

You are the worst of all.
You are the Unmakers of this world, our Oerth.
Traitors and destroyers of your own planet.

Do you think I, the Wanderer, do not know what you are doing?
Did you think you could deceive me?!

I say to you now, little girl, that you play with an unholy fire.
When it burns you, it will cling like greek fire, and you will not be able to scrape it off, even if you had an entire room of magical swords to scrape it with!

It will burn you, but you will not die, though your flesh chars and turns to ash.

You will remain alive, and your screams will go on forever.

THAT is the price you will pay, little girl, for the Darkness which you so willingly embrace.
THAT is what will happen to all your Black Brotherhood.

But, like the others, you choose a dark road, and walk that road.
Those who walk the dark road, will find it leads to a black hole from which there is no returning and there is no escape.

Alytres, still present in Veluna after teaching the Metallic Dragons 10th level magic steps forward.

"There is an Unmaker, a servant of dead Tharzidun, one who desires nothing but the end of all and she asks you to join her. I am glad you will not make a mockery of your prior claims and do so. We wield the power to reshape the plants and animals of our domain but we do not. To hold the power to Make or to Unmake is not necessarily to do so. After all the world is beautiful as it is, why change it? Acererak seeks to do so to flood the world in unstoppable undead hordes,the Black Brotherhood seeks only to destroy and the Shade and their allies desire only vengeance. We use our power only to oppose this."

The woman laughs.

"You do not comprehend. The oblivion and pain you see as punishment are to us, rewards. The world that you cling to is a corrupt, fetid waste. It has always been so. The present state of ruin only demonstrates the inner degradation that has always been there, lurking below the surface. We have sought to bring the purity of nothingness to this world, and end its pain. You on the other hand, wish to selfishly continue its dreadful existance, so that you can continue with your miserable and worthless life. Pathetic. You champions of light are fouler than we. At least we acknowledge our evil. You dress it in homilies, and call it 'goodness'."

She glances at the Wanderer sharply.

"And you speak of dark paths? You who gave us "Unmakers" this opportunity? You who sowed the chaos that we have reaped? You are the most vile I have yet seen old man! You gave us the sword, and now, you curse us for using it! Disgusting! Your self-righteousness has been the doom of thousands, fool, and you still cling to it? No fool like an old fool, I always say..."

The Wanderer regards the Solar Alzem, listens to all he has to say intently, then speaks:

So, you do not believe my people should remain on this world and die.
That is good to hear.
It is good to hear that someone thinks, besides me, that my people deserve to live.

You don't have the magical power to take my people to Hope Isle; that is true.
But your Commander, Forrester, does have that power.
He has the power to take a lot more people than just mine!

You say that taking our civilians would cause this world to declare war on Hope Isle.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

(The Wanderer laughs until he erupts into a fit of coughing and choking, which goes on for a long time.
When he regains his breath, he has turned purplish from lack of air.)

And that say I have lost my wits!
HAHAHAHA ...

(The Wanderer breaks down into another fit of laughter.)

Are you really trying to tell me that Oerth is going to immediately declare war on Toril and Hope Isle, then storm through your Border Guard, your Starfleet, your planetary defenses, your invincible army of Angels, and attack your Island???!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

(Another fit of laughter.)

Oh, that's good. That's really good. And they say the Dark Union is good at distorting the truth!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

(then he glares at Alzem)

That is (deleted).
A paltry and riculously feeble attempt on your part to excuse your unwillingness to safely house the innocent people of our world.

Are you really trying to tell me that Oerth is a military threat to Toril?
Are you serious?

I see NO PROBLEM AT ALL with innocent civilians coming to your Hope Isle, ON TORIL.
You seek to set up a Hope Isle here on Oerth - but you FORGET that the Red Poison underlies ALL the surface of this planet, and NO PLACE is safe!

There is no safety to be had anymore on Oerth.

You speak of the strength and knowledge the civilians would gain on Oerth, if they stayed here?
What strength?
The strength of nuclear blast waves?
The knowledge of the blinding flashes that leave shadows on the rocks?
That will do them a lot of good! Being dead will make them very knowledgable!

(Now the Wanderer looks enraged)

What have I done to stop the war?
Well, I only created the Sending to stop it from STARTING, that's what!
I tried to persuade these people to turn aside from the path Toril choose.
I tried to persuade reason into these people.

Had they listened to me, they would have attacked and destroyed Vecna immediately, and then there would have been no Barrage, and half my people would not be dead!
But no.
They were too busy worrying about their technology, about their new weapons (he sneers), their new magical toys, and they were too worried about what the Torilians were going to do, to pay attention to Vecna.
And see what happened? Look at what happened! 30 million people are dead! 30 million! And how long do you think the remaining 170 million are going to last?
Huh?
HUH?

(The Wanderer looks at Alzem solemnly)

Look, I am requesting something from you.
I am even pleading for something from you.
Take my people to your Hope Island.
Save my people.
They are the people of Lone Heath.
Don't let the God Emperor take them, and enjoy them in his Olympic Games of Torture, or conscript them into his armies and throw them into the slaughter.
Take my people to your haven on Toril.
Let them have a just and well deserved place of peace and solace.

And take the birds, and animals.
They are truly innocent.
They know nothing of the plots of men, or of Gods, but simply do as nature tells them.
They are no match for guns, tanks, missiles, and whatever other horrors are thought up.
They are no match for Barrages that burn whole forests and devastate whole lands.
They cannot hope to protect themselves from the poisoning of the Red Poison.

Take my people, and you will have the Wanderer's eternal gratitude.
There are only a couple of hundred thousand of them.
Surely, your Hope Isle can take these refugees?!

The Wanderer glares at the girl who represents the Black Brotherhood, and speaks:

Do not presume, little girl, to tell ME, the Wanderer, about the darkness in the hearts of men.

I know that darkness well, and better than you.
If you choose to surrender to that darkness, then you will suffer the consequences.

As for your statement that I am responsible for the calamity that has befallen all of us, I will not dignify that statement with a response.

He looks at Kalanyr

You have turned to the Light, and the drow with you.
You should understand.
Help me convince Alzem to convince Forrester to take my people to safety.
Help me save my people, Kalanyr.

Help me save several hundred thousand innocent lives.

Or ...

(The Wanderer's face darkens.)

Perhaps you are a hypocrite, like all the rest of them.
Perhaps you say you stand for the Light, but you will allow my people to die, and justify it all away!

It is up to you. The true hearts of men - and women - are revealed by what they do, not by what they say.

The woman rolls her eyes at this.

"Oh, Dread Lord, that was the most sentimental heap of garbage that I've ever heard."

She glances at the solar.

"Oh, please Mr. Solar, rescue all the cute scavengers, and insects, and internal parasites. They haven't done any wrong."

She gives a pathetic sniff, then bursts into hysterical laughter.

"By the Outer Darkness, that's pathetic. Are you saying that your pathetic little people are better the rest of these vile traitors and fools. HAH! They'd appreciate that notion! The truth is, none of you are worth saving any more than we are. Accept that fact, and embrace the darkness, or scream in terror as it embraces you..."