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[INDENT]
Red Sun
…After the Wars of Extinction, the Cleansing Wars, the Champions of Rajaat became the all-powerful sorcerer-monarchs of Athas, overthrowing their master when it was found that they, too, would become victims of his desire to return Athas to the near-mythical Blue Age…
“So, do you think we did the right thing?”
“Destroying the world?”
They looked out upon the barren dust, the heaped corpses their armies were piling onto a massive, smoking funeral pyre downwind. Carelessly tossing bodies of comrades and enemies alike onto the blazing, stinking pile. The billowing black column of greasy smoke could be seen for miles. Centuries ago, such a scene might have disturbed either of them.
“Of course.”
The dark-skinned man frowned, “I am not so certain.” He shaded his eyes and stared out at the sun, burning red as it moved down the olive-colored sky towards the horizon.
His companion, the lion-maned Champion once most favored of Rajaat remained silent, and after a time the dark man spoke again, “What now?”
“The world is dying.”
“So, you are saying Rajaat should have been allowed to continue, to complete this mad quest of his, that we all should have died on his sacrificial altar?”
There was a great snort of derision from the lion-maned man, “Hardly. I don’t know that it would have been worth the price. I have my people to protect. Rajaat was as much a betrayer as Myron.”
“Some might say the same of you,” the dark-skinned man hinted slyly, looking sidewise at his companion.
A brief moment of rage worked itself across the strong, handsome features of the Champion who had taken up the mantle of the Troll-Scorcher, who had driven that race to extinction and slain their king, Windreaver, burying his body within the smoking crater of a volcano raised by a terrible act of sorcery; the Champion who had been the most favored of the First Sorcerer, Rajaat, and who had become the First Sorcerer’s greatest enemy, the betrayer who had buried his blade in the back of his one-time master and friend.
“Rajaat proved himself the betrayer before I ever struck a blow against him. I did not slaughter the trolls for him so that Rajaat could slaughter my people in return.” He spit into the dust.
The murdering blade hung now at his side, a gift from Rajaat to his favored Champion at the beginning of the Wars, forged in magic to help him slay the trolls and the other enemies of the Restoration, the most powerful of a triumvirate of legendary blades, and the one that had dealt a fatal blow to the First Sorcerer.
More silence passed and the thick cloud of black smoke billowed up from the field below and into the ash-choked sky. How many had fallen in this last battle? How many countless thousands? Millions, perhaps? Rajaat’s loyal servants and terrible creations against the full might of the Champions’ armies. Of them all, only a fraction had survived the devastation of that day.
“We take the survivors to the old places, and guard them until the end comes. What else is there to do? We guard humanity, and those others of the Reborn who will let us, from the end of this world. Guard and protect them even as we did today, from Rajaat.”
“There seems little hope in that course, to sit and wait for the world to die, and clutch onto what little life remains.”
“All things die,” the lion-maned warrior responded, staring off into the distance.
“All things except us,” the dark-skinned man countered.
Another long pause passed between them as they continued watching the survivors of the armies collect bodies and burn them on the great pyre. Insects scurrying across the black fields of battle, whose lives were only brief flickers in the grand pattern of ages.
The warrior knew the names of some below, but he could not remember them at the moment...too many names over the endless years. Men who had come and gone, had fought and died, or fought and lived, only to die later in their beds of age or disease. Men whose names he had once called in the heat of battle, and now could no longer recall.
“Protecting my people is all that I know. It is all I am,” he said, looking out upon the faceless mass of scurrying men below, “I would not abandon man now.”
The red orb of the sun savaged the sky with the colors of nightfall, purples and pinks streaming through the black mass of distant smoke that filled the air, like the souls of the dead shining as they drifted into oblivion.
“There is no salvation here. We cannot build from ashes. We will protect what little we have left, and continue on, guarding the few acres of life left to us. We will not let Rajaat destroy us, even from beyond the grave,” he finished a few moments later.
His thoughts had turned to the devastation wrought upon the world, of the vast lands ruined and turned to ash and sand, of the dying sun above that even now was aging too rapidly and would one day flicker and go out. If they were careful, they could make it last.
The dark-skinned man stood quietly nearby, watching the sun’s descent, keeping his quiet thoughts to himself. Hammanu, the warrior, suddenly smiled at the other’s serious reflection and turned, extending his hand to the other, “Thank you for talking with me, Keltis, my friend.”
They clasped one another’s forearms and parted as the dying, red sun set beyond the horizon, never to rise upon that age again, for tomorrow’s dawn would mark the beginning of a new age.
[/INDENT]
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Above story is copyright (c)2005 Raven Daegmorgan.
The Dark Sun setting, and all its characters, are copyright Wizards of the Coast. No infringement upon WotC's ownership is intended or implied.
I'm taking a creative writing class and it has gotten me to scratch the writing itch (the main reason I took it). Since I became stalled and frustrated last night on another DS-based story, I switched to that one and just wrote to see what would come out.
I have the one I'm stalled on, plus a prequel to "When Kritha Met Misha" (which can be found in the Writing section of my website) as "more" if you mean "more DS fan fiction".
I'll make note here on the boards when those two are finished (they're both much longer than the above, as is the published short on my site, so I would not post them here).
[...] but it is generally considered that RAFOADK is from hamanu's biased perspective, and that since he's a few millennia old, his memory may be rusty.
LMAO!
Right, and babies just happen to be made after the daddy puts his thing in the mommy, but really, the two aren't logically connected.
It always makes me laugh.
Two points that are so wisheful thinking on the part of those readers that didn't like the book:
1. Hamanu is lying when he recounts his past. Worst: his inner voice (the one the reader knows is the voice inside Hamanu's brain box) is lying too, just in case someone might be listening in...
2. Hamanu has an umprecise memory. Heh. The guy has an eideitic memory, he freakin' remembers everything.
Anyway, to get back on topic - Greyorm, do you have any more of this story, or others of similar tone? I'd very much enjoy seeing them!
I just needed to say it...even though next week another person is gonna say the exact same thing, and then the week after that, and....pfff.
In a couple weeks or so, I should have one, maybe two more stories. The prequel I mention above is a violent, brutal expose of life in the cities: not watered down by modern expectations of social rules and behaviors, community, morality, and all the associated trappings of our culture.
I focused on the part with the three swords, "the most powerful of a triumvirate of legendary blades". I'll be using that in my entry for the three swords, too cool.
Thought the black skinned man was Nibenay - damn that Shadow King moniker!
I like the motivation the SK's have for protecting humans.
I'm just looking for loopholes. No need to be snide, Pennarin. As for myself, I consider RAFOADK to only be half-canonical as far as my game goes, because it conflicts somewhat with the rulebooks and tries to tack on concepts I don't like or agree with, like everyone and everything having a permanent connection to the Dark Lens, templar spells being channeled through the Dark Lens, etc. Lynn Abbey is an excellent author, she just wasn't very informed about the other books and the setting material from the rulebooks. I read her notes, and there's a lot of stuff she didn't know about and interpolated.
Anyway, to get back on topic - Greyorm, do you have any more of this story, or others of similar tone? I'd very much enjoy seeing them!
This is the way I see it, screw wether the author knew the rulebook info or not.. Take it as Hamanu and the other SK's are amazing in their own sphere's of power, with the magic and might they are using (or were given) however.. that doesn't mean they knew or even now know the extent of their master's magic, especially with what he crafted them with and what their abilities were to be or how they functioned... simply put.. I place the Dark Lense and the processes Rajaat used on the SK's as something they are still trying to figure out.. and basically.. sometimes they are wrong.. I see them using the dark lense as a child uses a high powered computer.. you can turn it on, activate the screen saver.. maybe play solitair.. but you're not gonna know how to work the tax program or understand what it means if you could...
So as far as anything Hamanu explains that people don't like?? simply chaulk it up to him 'misunderstanding'.. he's immortal, not onmiscient.. Maybe he could get away with saying he knew how it worked if he'd ever created some of those abilities for another.. but then.. the same can't be said for those halflings on the jagged cliffs and their life shaped items...
In my campaigns Rajaat can use magic like a living language he knows by heart.. while others (Wizards, AB or otherwise) know only phrases, words here and there.. But what Rajaat can do is much more fluid and alive.. only limited by his highly intelligent imagination...
So.. yeah.. maybe Hamanu is right maybe he isn't, take it or leave it.. and as for the ending.. well.. if the previous part of the book were true as far as Hamanu's abilities go.. I'd hate to have him die too.. he'd be like a super Dragon.. uber..
So, just like with Tyr.. if you don't want Kalak dead, or Hamanu, or even Borys.. don't use it.. it is after all your campaign world.. ... thats my 2 cents.. to continue this call please deposite another 5 cents into the machine.. thank you
Hey, Grey: Would you like this posted up on the fiction section of Athas.org?
Heya Flip, Sure. That would be great, thanks!
(You should probably grab the version I put up on my site, rather than this one here, as it has one or two changes to the wording -- minor one-word changes to make the reading flow better).
Thought the black skinned man was Nibenay - damn that Shadow King moniker!
Heh, originally, that's who it was, but then I decided to mix it up a bit for thematic reasons, and make the revelation of who the other character actually was a surprise.
I like the motivation the SK's have for protecting humans.
Well, that's just Hammanu's motivation, though I suppose it could be extended to the others. I hope it is also indicated where Keltis differs in this respect: his discomfort with accepting that the world is going to die (hinting at his later questioning of his own path, and the development of his own transformation).