PLAYER 1 - Draconis

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Draconis at djdracon@nvbell.net

PLAYER 2 - Yyrkoon

Yrkoon stood on the top of his tower, watching peasants crawling through the 
streets like ants, as useless movements, but not as busy. Thousands of 
people, all waiting to become soldiers of his new empire.
From where he was, he had a good look at the interior city, where workers 
just started building a church as he had ordered. People seemd easily be 
impressed by religions, he realized, though gods had different names, they 
were much alike, whether High Elves or Dark Elves, whether Dervishes of 
Orcs, everyone seemed to believe in the concept of order and chaos, of 
creation and destruction, of druidism and dark.

Druidism and Dark, that reminded him of the other Wizards, who had recently 
gained control of a city, just like him. He wondered who would make best 
allies, but he couldn't come to a conclusion, he just didn't know enough 
about his fellow wizards yet. So he decided to write to all of them.



Dear fellow Wizard,

 I wus just informed you were salved as a High Wizard by the priests of 
order and chaos, just like me. Times are changing, and monsters are spotted 
all over the land. I hope you are interested in relationships with other 
races, if so, please send me a message.


Yrkoon, master of Sorcery

Contact Yyrkoon at jegron@hotmail.com

PLAYER 3 - Shadowmage

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Shadowmage at shadowmagi@earthlink.net

PLAYER 4 - Cardinal Teplin

The round chamber was so carved with ancient sigils that it appeared rough hewn
from the living rock.  The bluish glow from the coldfire, burning in the central
bowl, cast a fierce but shallow light, that caused twisted shadows to scuttle
around the thickly carved walls, clinging to crevice and carving.  The light
revealed only traces of the dark faces gathered in the chamber, but for those
gathered here, it was enough.  Here was the heart of Shadowfeltz, and the true
rulers of the city.  Here the Priestesses gathered, to forge their divergent
instincts into the city's iron will.

"The portents are clear."  One of them had spoken, but in the inky depths of the
shadowed chamber, noone could have sworn to who.  Words tumbled around the room
echoing from the walls, while those within shifted position constantly, a dance
of concealment that spoke of more than it seemed.  Who stood with who, and who
appeared to be who, and who drifted away like smoke spilling from a chimney
shaft only to be found in a different position in the chamber spoke more than
mere words.

What portents, was not spoken of.  Each knew, or if they did not, would have
bought the information dearly before the month was out.  The Elven Races were
heading for war, that much was certain.

"The whispering Brothers speak of movement on the surface."  A simple statement,
and one that left much unsaid.  The surface elves, both ancestral enemies and
too far away to be counted as much a foe as their kinfolk neighbours, were also
going to war.  That meant a far ranging conflict, one that the underground world
would find harder to escape.  It meant too, that other races might be drawn into
the conflict.

But worse still, the status of the Whispering Brothers themselves were
uncertain. Those spies well trained enough to be trusted and yet worthless
enough to sent as far as the surface, were almost exclusively male.  To trust
the weaker sex to matters of such importance spoke of determination that the
city stand unified, of resoluteness that all resources be utilised, but worse
still, it spoke of desperation.  The menfolk were the most expendable of the
race.  To trust to the judgement of their reports without further verification
was more a plea for haste over care, that the time of planning was over, and the
time for action was already here.

Eyes turned to the priestess of the Endless Dance.  Perhaps the most
conservative in such matters, she might have been expected to pull away from the
speaker.  Yet despite her normally restless manner she stood still, feet planted
in a determination that was familiar to many, but seemed horribly out of
character.

"The time has come."  That was her almost certainly, and she evidently cared not
who knew it.  A bold but possible foolish move.  Then again, with a war coming,
she might have felt the need to demonstrate her factions growing strength.  Most
other Dark Elven cities had come under the sway of one or another of the major
priesthoods.  Once in a dominant position, the subservience of the others could
be ensured with lethal force.

"This is a time for unity, unity and strength."  The play had been made.
Agreement now would put the High Priestess of the Endless dance in total control
of the city.  The movement in the room intensified, as the majority opposed to
such a move tried to find an alternative.  But few would want to be the one to
oppose the strongest faction, nor stand out as opposed to what might shortly be
the new regime.  Worse still, what alternative was there?  Could they really
keep on as they were, in the face of a great war?

"There is, of course, an alternative."  A sudden hush of astonishment, a one
figure stepped forward towards the bowl of coldfire.  Elisha, priestess of Our
Lady of Mirrors, of little power and known for her lack of tact.  But the choice
made sense.  She would gain from her presumption if it succeeded, and the
faction that supported her would lose little if her gamble failed.  She would
die, but she would count but as a minor loss.

"We have, through our divinations, discovered a Great One."  Wizards who could
command powers on a great scale were rare, mysterious beings.  Frequently not
powerful on a personal level, they were capable of a scale of magic that would
prove invaluable in a war.  Such a being would be of great use to them.  Indeed
many had probably already started searching, through their circles of summoning
or scrying mirrors, or by sending minions through the panoply of the planes, to
find such a creature.  Her success was a coup indeed, but it would not be
enough.

But she had a altogether more radical plan.  "Like many of his kind, he is weak
at present, but we can make him strong.  He shall lead."  The proposal was
vulgar, bringing directly what had only been discussed by implication.  It was
also controvertial.

"How can we follow one who is not of the sacred blood?"  An old myth,
resurrected for deadly purpose.  Some claimed that the priestesses of Shadowfelz
ruled because they were related by blood to the powers they served.  Many
disagreed, and some in the priesthood saw the truth in these words, but did not
feel that the city was necessarily better off ruled by divine blood.  The powers
they served did not always have their best interests at heart.

"He is a summoning.  Would you dispute being guided by such?"  Many backed away
at this.  A direct insult, although it could not be politely construed as such.
The Endless Dance often consulted with creatures from the wrong side of a
summoning circle.  Rumours whispered far more.  She offered the opportunity to
discredit her plan, but only by discrediting their own practices by implication.
A barbed choice.  The gathered waited breathlessly for a response.

But a new voice spoke.  "Would any here really consent to being led by a wizard
in a cage?"
Sarcastic, angry, but devilishly clever.  It cut straight to hear to the heart
of the matter, and prevented the Priestess of the Endless dance from forming her
own reply.  As the silence stretched, it became clear that this alternative,
however bizarre it might seem, was preferable to a single one of their member
being undisputed ruler.

"Then we accept him as Cardinal, for the while?"  A dangerous qualification.
The title Cardinal would mean this summoned and trapped creature would
theoretically outrank them. For all that the summoning might be at their mercy,
he would have considerable power.  The power to command, to direct, to order.
And if they didn't like it, they could always cut him down.  The genius stroke
was the clear indication that he was male.  A male was duller, easier to
manipulate, and less ruthless than a more dangerous female might be.  The
silence stretched, and thickened into an acceptance.  The Endless Dance had lost
some face, but they would recover.  Elisha would receive many invitations to
hospitality and harem from those who might be curious as her potential as a
political tool.  And this creature, 'Teplin' would give the mobilisation orders
in a war not lead by them, but which, like anything else in the city, would be
firmly under their control.

Transmission from Intelligence Designate 'Teplin'

- appointed Cardinal by the Conclave of the Priesthood, of the City of Shadowfeltz

Know then that this war will not be won by one race alone.

Contact me, and we can talk