Red Day Dawning

From Red Day Dawning, an account of the Scarlet War, focusing on the Fall of the Jade Tower, by Brother Duram Gangi, of the Order of the Mind of the Prophet, Sun Year 947.

Chapter 9: In which Shadow is not the opposite of Light

...The war went well. Most of the smaller enclaves of wizards and sorcerers, the demon-tainted weavers of arcane blasphemies, had fallen beneath the mighty weight of the Army of the Sun.

But nowhere was there a Master Wizard to be found. They had, it seems, with fiendish sight, foreseen their own destruction, and retreated to the Jade Tower.

The Jade Tower, luminous beacon of the Arcane Order, which men said no plain mortal could approach and live to tell the tale. The Jade Tower, a shining spike in the western sky, which was death to mortals of faith. The Jade Tower, sparkling affront to the sovereignty of Pelor, which was unassailable by all the armies of man and dwarf.

The Arcane Masters retreated, untouchable in their enigmatic fortress.

In his sun-blessed wisdom, Lord Marshal Valanthe Amakiir, commander of the Army of the Sun, saw that disaster could yet befall his cause. Though his armies had won every battle, though he wielded legions of the faithful, yet were the Master Wizards powerful, with dark knowledge and the fear and nightmares of generations of mortals. Once already had they struck with awesome power, raining fire down upon the Holy Spire, and devastating the Island of Lost Souls.

So the Lord Marshal, knowing the day of reckoning drew near, prepared a daring stroke of his own. The Order of the Sword of Malicean he sent, with as many legions of footmen as they could gather along the way, on the long march to the College of Mages. In the hands of Field Marshal Carline Bright-Eyes, the greatest hero of the age, he sent the most sacred of relics, Faithbrand, the blazing Sword of Malicean the Prophet, to lead the Army of the Sun to victory once again. And he swore to them that the defenses of the tower would fall before their righteous wrath.

But he knew that their wrath alone would not suffice, for the defenses of the Jade Tower had never been broken. No thief in the night, no adventurers bent on looting, no army under any general had ever taken the tower. No one who was not welcome, had ever set foot over the threshold of the tower.

And as his army approached the Tower, their hope began to fade. For it was apparent, even from leagues away, that the Tower was still defended by its Masters. They were beset by fell beasts, by creatures of their nightmares, which they slew without remorse. But though the beasts fell at their swords, when night came, they again sprang up to rend and tear and fight. For three days this went on, until from inside the tower a bell pealed, and the Army of the Sun despaired.

They despaired, for out of the Tower marched the forces of the heavens – a legion of angels, called from their Holy duty, and bound to the evil will of the Master Wizards. With grief in their hearts, and though it cost them many men, the Army slew these wretched creatures.

As it cost the Army, so too it cost the heavenly host, and each of them asked the Light for forgiveness when he slew a mortal, and each of them, as they fell, murmured forgiveness to their slayer.

But though his men despaired on the Plain of Jade, the Lord Marshal had faith. In secret he had gathered to himself every cleric, monk and bard, indeed everyone remaining mortal who had ever shown any trace of Pelor’s divine spark. And the Marshal, a man faithful and righteous, called upon the lesser of Pelor’s aspects, that which is called only when the virtuous have need of stealth and secrecy. The Moon heard his pleas, and cast over the assembled host his moonlight veil, that they might journey in secret to the City of Luminaux. The Blue City, the City of Joy and Harmony, which war had never touched, was to be the site of the Lord Marshal’s master turn.

On the Island of the Sun, in Luminaux, stands the greatest hall the world of Crescent has ever known. A room acoustically perfect, in which the slightest whisper would carry to the furthest seat, in which a single singer on the stage could perform to an audience of 100 thousand mortal ears.

In the Grand Concert Hall Amakiir assembled his host.

And there, they sang.

Such a song had never before been heard in mortal memory. Each and every faithful mortal, and not a few immortals, lifted their voice to the heavens, and asked for the strength and blessing of Pelor. And Pelor responded in turn, granting to each of the faithful his light, as they were capable. Such is the perfection of the Hall that their songs focused that light, the raw divinity, at the center of the room, where stood the Lord Marshal himself.

The Lord Marshal took of that light, and grasped it, and focused it to his prodigious will. With the combined might of thousands of faithful, he cast his will towards the Jade Tower.

The Army of the Sun, massed on the plain before the Tower of Jade, rejoiced – for at the call of Amakiir, all the world fell to shadow, and the Sun itself shone His bright face down upon the Tower. Though from the Tower cast a powerful green light into the sky, yet did the Sun shine. And the fell beasts burned, and the nightmares turned to ash, and the last of the Angels to stand, the Archangel Yanseldra, hung her head, for she knew she had failed her new masters.

And the walls of the Tower, walls of stone and fire and lightning, tumbled to rubble. And the storm of arcane energies that had swirled around the Tower vanished like fog in the light of true Dawn. And new grass sprang under their feet, where before there had been only a sand stained red with the blood of the faithful. And carried on the wind were the sound of birds and the smell of the sea, where there had only been silence and sulfur before.

And the Army of the Sun took the tower, and the days of the Master Wizards came to an end.

But not without cost.

Chapter 10: In which the true cost of Victory is revealed.

The Army of the Sun had won the Scarlet War at a stroke – for though the battle yet was pitched, without the defenses of the Tower at their command, the Masters were weak. And they fell to a man before Faithbrand, and were captured or slain.

But in the Grand Concert Hall, Lord Marshal Amakiir fell to the stage. Such was the perfection of the Hall that every ear heard his words.

“I have looked upon the face of our god, and He was wroth... His Light shine upon us all.”

And ever more was the Lord Marshal blind, for no mortal can look upon the face of the Sun. And never more did he feel the caress of the Light, for channeling that much divinity is beyond even the most powerful of mortals, and though he broke it to his will, so did it break him.

But worse was yet to come.

For word soon came that the Holy Temple at Mt. Daneasus had vanished in the very moment that the Light struck the tower. A fell green light cast itself through the leagues of stone, and surrounded the empty Temple, and the whole of it vanished without a trace. Only minor casualties were reported – less than 100 missing – for nearly all the Temple’s priests had been in the Grand Concert Hall. But those that had remained were the ones charged with defending the reliquary, where a great many of the Church’s holy relics were stored – Malicean’s remains, and his armor and shield and standard, and Dalende Ster and Wassen Ster, and the Circle of the Elements, and the Scythe of Phealas, and a hundred other sacred or profane treasures.

Sages now say that the veil of the Moon that had hidden the Sacred Host misdirected the divinations of the Arcane. For though the Wizards knew the stroke would soon fall, they believed that it originated in Mt. Daneasus, and so there they aimed their counterstroke. By the time they realized their mistake, it was too late, for the forces of Pelor were at their doorstep, and they had exhausted their most potent weapon – the Spellpool, a fountain of Arcane Energy so concentrated as to be given liquid form.

From Chapter 12 – In which the Masters are Tried and Sentenced

...Each of the captured Master Wizards was tried before the High Tribunal at the Spire, and each was stilled, and most executed. The Amber Dragon, they did not execute, and Leedra Black the Illusionist, and Thinwhistle the Humble. Each was stilled, so that no more could they weave the strands of the Arcane Power to suit their whim.

Leedra Black hung herself in her cell, not hours after she had been stilled.

Thinwhistle the Humble was killed by a mob in the village of Sambean, where before one of his creations had gone on a rampage, and killed a little girl. It is said that he had walked from the High Tribunal to the village, and announced himself. When the mob formed, led by the grief-stricken father of the child, Thinwhistle lifted not a hand in his own defense, such was his despair.

And the Amber Dragon set off into the east, and has been heard from no more, and is believed dead...