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Knightfall's Realmsian Dragonstar (Updated: Sept 08/10)
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<blockquote data-quote="Knightfall" data-source="post: 342908" data-attributes="member: 2012"><p><strong><em>Part One - Death of a Goddess</em></strong></p><p></p><p>Mystra didn't feel them coming until the ships' starcasters tore through the Weave like sword through flesh. It felt like a part of her was being sucked away into a deep void. Then the three starships' fusion engines ignited and she screamed in agony. The Weave was unraveling around her and her manifestation struggled to appear before the most powerful of her Chosen, Elminster of Shadowdale.</p><p></p><p>"You must stop them, they are destroying the Weave!"</p><p></p><p>Elminster could feel it to and knew that it meant the Dragon Empire had found Toril. He had known this day would come and had tried to warn his allies all over the world. Only Khelben Arunsun and Vangerdahast had taken a 'serious' interest in the threat and joined the Arcanum with him. The Seven Sisters took a less interested view in the threat trusting in Mystra's power to protect the world from the Empire.</p><p></p><p>The members of Arcanum House had warned Elminster that the Dragon Empire would find Toril eventually and send an invasion force to conquer the world. They also told him there was little any could do to stop the invasion from succeeding if the Emperor decided he wanted Toril.</p><p></p><p>"Not even your Goddess can stop this," Syrath Erais had spoken these words to him when Elminster and the others had first joined the Arcanum of the Stars, but only now, as he felt the Weave weaken around him did the full weight of his words sink in. Mystra was being forcefully separated from the Weave in front of his very eyes. Something about the technology was disrupting the Weave, breaking it apart.</p><p></p><p>"This cannot happen," Elminster tried to steel himself and concentrate on the magic around him. He tried desperately to pull it towards himself and funnel it back into his Goddess, without success.</p><p></p><p>"The magic cannot be lost, Elminster. Without it the world is doomed and this Empire will conquer us all. I should have listen to you." Her manifestation was starting to come apart and Elminster knew that she was dying. "I must give a part of my essence to each of my Chosen, as my predecessor did with you during the Time of Troubles."</p><p></p><p>"No, the world must not lose its Goddess of Magic again! I-I cannot lose you again!" Elminster couldn't stop himself from weeping. He loved his Goddess, as did all the Chosen.</p><p></p><p>The manifestation of Mystra dissipated in front the old mage's eyes. "There is no other way..."</p><p></p><p>It was the last thing Elminster heard his Goddess say before she broke apart her essence shattered. Mystra was gone but part of her power flowed into each of her Chosen, as her last act of love for each of them. All over Faerûn, the Chosen of Mystra instantly knew that the Goddess was dead and each had known just before it happened that something was dreadfully wrong. Elminster could feel the Simbul weeping on the floor of her palace of green stone in Velprintalar.</p><p></p><p>Elminster trembled, as the power of the Goddess flowed into him and he knew that Mystra, or the human once known as Midnight who became the Lady of Mysteries was gone forever. The old mage also knew that the other Gods of Faerûn would be without access to the Weave and chaos could result if left unchecked by Ao. The higher magic of the world would now be almost impossible to access without the Weave in place and more would turn to the Shadow Weave, if it still existed.</p><p></p><p>Then Elminster did something that he never thought ever attempt no matter what. He tried to sense the Shadow Weave, he could not. The old mage shook his head in disgust. Of course he couldn't, only those that Shar, the Mistress of the Night, favored could access the Shadow Weave so he was still uncertain whether or not it, or even its Mistress, still existed.</p><p></p><p>The old mage pulled on his robe and high boots and strapped on his thundering long sword. He patted the sword, which was more like an extension of life force than a weapon. "I'm going to need you more now than ever."</p><p></p><p>Then Elminster of Shadowdale picked up his Arcanum signet ring and activated its technomagical power of teleportation. "To Charamosh."</p><p></p><p>* * *</p><p></p><p>The <em>Centurion</em> was the first Imperial starcaster to enter the Amaunator system since the time before the Great War had consumed the galaxy. And its Captain, Gregory Farhand, wasn't happy about being sent there either.</p><p></p><p>Farhand considered himself the Emperor's personal whipping boy. He always received the worst assignments and was given the task of bringing pointless, remote worlds under the sway of the Dragon Empire. This Amaunator system was just the latest and wasn't even on the Imperial star charts.</p><p></p><p>The Emperor hadn't ever believed the system existed even after hearing the legend. Yet, Mezzenbone had received word from the Commander of the Dragon Brigade, Thul Gulokas, that the system did indeed exist and that a world rich in magic was rumored to exist there. And the Commander's report had indicated that the world had very little technology developed yet and that it should be easy to conquer.</p><p></p><p>Even now, as Captain Farhand scanned the report sent to him by the Emperor, along with orders to scout the system, did he realize just how much his Emperor loathed him. Farhand was a half-drow elf and, as such, his blood was considered impure at best by the Emperor and the members of his House considered him bastard spawn. Thus, his drow kin always questioned his loyalty. This had forced him to give up any hope of joining the ISPD and Farhand had settled on being the Captain of the <em>Centurion</em>. A ship without any glorious history or true battle scars.</p><p></p><p>And now, the <em>Centurion</em> was little more than a glorified gopher ship sent to poke around in useless systems. Mezzenbone not only believed that this Toril was a waste of time, he was also unwilling to commit 'real' forces to the scouting mission regardless of whether or not the report came from the Dark Son, his favorite in the Imperial fleet.</p><p></p><p>Thus, the <em>Centurion</em> was sent alone with two Hammerhead-class drop ships, the <em>Basilisk</em> and the <em>Scorpion</em>, to check out the validity of these rumors and see if this mythical Toril was really as valuable as the legend said or if it really existed at all.</p><p></p><p>"I guess we should get this over with," Captain Farhand didn't even lookout the window of his quarters when they entered the system. He activated the Comm Link on his desk and addressed his First Mate who was on the bridge four decks up. "Elgan, send out the runnerships to map the system and head for the third planet. That's supposed to be the one we're looking for.</p><p></p><p>"Aye Captain," Farhand noted the lack of enthusiasm in the mate's voice.</p><p></p><p>"Elgan, I know these assignments aren't the greatest but try to remember why we're out here. The Emperor will want a 'detailed' report of this system regardless of what we truly find. You know as well as I do that he doesn't accept anything but perfection."</p><p></p><p>"Yes sir. Elgan, out." That sounded better. Gregory didn't blame his First Mate for his displeasure regarding the assignments. The entire crew was disgusted. But they believed in their Captain even if the Emperor didn't. Their loyalty had cost many of them promotions and a chance to be assigned to another starship. Captain Farhand let them know that he would stand by the decisions they made because of that loyalty.</p><p></p><p>Just then, Captain Farhand felt the fusion engines ignite and a strange shiver ran down his spine. He looked out the Glassteel window and felt his stomach tighten into knots. It was if he could hear a woman screaming, crying out in pain. Then, it stopped and he felt a wave of death wash over him. The half-drow raised an eyebrow then shook his head. He was obviously imagining things and made a mental note to go to the Medlab for his routine checkup a couple of months early this cycle. "I think I need a vacation."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Knightfall, post: 342908, member: 2012"] [b][i]Part One - Death of a Goddess[/i][/b] Mystra didn't feel them coming until the ships' starcasters tore through the Weave like sword through flesh. It felt like a part of her was being sucked away into a deep void. Then the three starships' fusion engines ignited and she screamed in agony. The Weave was unraveling around her and her manifestation struggled to appear before the most powerful of her Chosen, Elminster of Shadowdale. "You must stop them, they are destroying the Weave!" Elminster could feel it to and knew that it meant the Dragon Empire had found Toril. He had known this day would come and had tried to warn his allies all over the world. Only Khelben Arunsun and Vangerdahast had taken a 'serious' interest in the threat and joined the Arcanum with him. The Seven Sisters took a less interested view in the threat trusting in Mystra's power to protect the world from the Empire. The members of Arcanum House had warned Elminster that the Dragon Empire would find Toril eventually and send an invasion force to conquer the world. They also told him there was little any could do to stop the invasion from succeeding if the Emperor decided he wanted Toril. "Not even your Goddess can stop this," Syrath Erais had spoken these words to him when Elminster and the others had first joined the Arcanum of the Stars, but only now, as he felt the Weave weaken around him did the full weight of his words sink in. Mystra was being forcefully separated from the Weave in front of his very eyes. Something about the technology was disrupting the Weave, breaking it apart. "This cannot happen," Elminster tried to steel himself and concentrate on the magic around him. He tried desperately to pull it towards himself and funnel it back into his Goddess, without success. "The magic cannot be lost, Elminster. Without it the world is doomed and this Empire will conquer us all. I should have listen to you." Her manifestation was starting to come apart and Elminster knew that she was dying. "I must give a part of my essence to each of my Chosen, as my predecessor did with you during the Time of Troubles." "No, the world must not lose its Goddess of Magic again! I-I cannot lose you again!" Elminster couldn't stop himself from weeping. He loved his Goddess, as did all the Chosen. The manifestation of Mystra dissipated in front the old mage's eyes. "There is no other way..." It was the last thing Elminster heard his Goddess say before she broke apart her essence shattered. Mystra was gone but part of her power flowed into each of her Chosen, as her last act of love for each of them. All over Faerûn, the Chosen of Mystra instantly knew that the Goddess was dead and each had known just before it happened that something was dreadfully wrong. Elminster could feel the Simbul weeping on the floor of her palace of green stone in Velprintalar. Elminster trembled, as the power of the Goddess flowed into him and he knew that Mystra, or the human once known as Midnight who became the Lady of Mysteries was gone forever. The old mage also knew that the other Gods of Faerûn would be without access to the Weave and chaos could result if left unchecked by Ao. The higher magic of the world would now be almost impossible to access without the Weave in place and more would turn to the Shadow Weave, if it still existed. Then Elminster did something that he never thought ever attempt no matter what. He tried to sense the Shadow Weave, he could not. The old mage shook his head in disgust. Of course he couldn't, only those that Shar, the Mistress of the Night, favored could access the Shadow Weave so he was still uncertain whether or not it, or even its Mistress, still existed. The old mage pulled on his robe and high boots and strapped on his thundering long sword. He patted the sword, which was more like an extension of life force than a weapon. "I'm going to need you more now than ever." Then Elminster of Shadowdale picked up his Arcanum signet ring and activated its technomagical power of teleportation. "To Charamosh." * * * The [i]Centurion[/i] was the first Imperial starcaster to enter the Amaunator system since the time before the Great War had consumed the galaxy. And its Captain, Gregory Farhand, wasn't happy about being sent there either. Farhand considered himself the Emperor's personal whipping boy. He always received the worst assignments and was given the task of bringing pointless, remote worlds under the sway of the Dragon Empire. This Amaunator system was just the latest and wasn't even on the Imperial star charts. The Emperor hadn't ever believed the system existed even after hearing the legend. Yet, Mezzenbone had received word from the Commander of the Dragon Brigade, Thul Gulokas, that the system did indeed exist and that a world rich in magic was rumored to exist there. And the Commander's report had indicated that the world had very little technology developed yet and that it should be easy to conquer. Even now, as Captain Farhand scanned the report sent to him by the Emperor, along with orders to scout the system, did he realize just how much his Emperor loathed him. Farhand was a half-drow elf and, as such, his blood was considered impure at best by the Emperor and the members of his House considered him bastard spawn. Thus, his drow kin always questioned his loyalty. This had forced him to give up any hope of joining the ISPD and Farhand had settled on being the Captain of the [i]Centurion[/i]. A ship without any glorious history or true battle scars. And now, the [i]Centurion[/i] was little more than a glorified gopher ship sent to poke around in useless systems. Mezzenbone not only believed that this Toril was a waste of time, he was also unwilling to commit 'real' forces to the scouting mission regardless of whether or not the report came from the Dark Son, his favorite in the Imperial fleet. Thus, the [i]Centurion[/i] was sent alone with two Hammerhead-class drop ships, the [i]Basilisk[/i] and the [i]Scorpion[/i], to check out the validity of these rumors and see if this mythical Toril was really as valuable as the legend said or if it really existed at all. "I guess we should get this over with," Captain Farhand didn't even lookout the window of his quarters when they entered the system. He activated the Comm Link on his desk and addressed his First Mate who was on the bridge four decks up. "Elgan, send out the runnerships to map the system and head for the third planet. That's supposed to be the one we're looking for. "Aye Captain," Farhand noted the lack of enthusiasm in the mate's voice. "Elgan, I know these assignments aren't the greatest but try to remember why we're out here. The Emperor will want a 'detailed' report of this system regardless of what we truly find. You know as well as I do that he doesn't accept anything but perfection." "Yes sir. Elgan, out." That sounded better. Gregory didn't blame his First Mate for his displeasure regarding the assignments. The entire crew was disgusted. But they believed in their Captain even if the Emperor didn't. Their loyalty had cost many of them promotions and a chance to be assigned to another starship. Captain Farhand let them know that he would stand by the decisions they made because of that loyalty. Just then, Captain Farhand felt the fusion engines ignite and a strange shiver ran down his spine. He looked out the Glassteel window and felt his stomach tighten into knots. It was if he could hear a woman screaming, crying out in pain. Then, it stopped and he felt a wave of death wash over him. The half-drow raised an eyebrow then shook his head. He was obviously imagining things and made a mental note to go to the Medlab for his routine checkup a couple of months early this cycle. "I think I need a vacation." [/QUOTE]
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