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Ardon sat comfortably in his deep, wooden chair. Books laid scattered across the room, and what wasn’t covered by a book was covered by a stray paper. This was the life Ardon had always lived, from the time of being a young boy. He had spent his years studying the arts, or as it’s better known, magic.
He had a deep respect for the powers he was capable of harnessing, and he knew well the dangers of those powers. He knew even more the dangers of the runes that laid scattered at his feet. It is said, that there is a time in almost every Wizard‘s life when wisdom and knowledge become only small obstacles in the path of power. However, this didn‘t apply so much to Ardon, for he wasn’t driven by the craving of ultimate power. No, not at all. His mind was driven by a much more innocent ambition. Curiosity.
It had taken nearly two decades for Ardon to prepare for this moment. Nights of no sleep and vigorous studying had finally brought him to the pinnacle of his craft. This was the day he had awaited all his life. He recounted the steps in his mind as he reached a worn hand into a belt pouch. His hands visibly shook as he fingered the final piece to the puzzle.
He took a deep breath to calm his rising nerves, and to steady his, now trembling, hands. He knew it would take his full concentration to make this work. As he exhaled another breath he began to move his hands in a pattern, one he had studied well over the last eighteen years. With the exhale of another deep breath he began the rhythm of an ancient, magical chant. The words echoed out across the planes, bouncing from one to the other until it had reached it’s intended destination. The stray papers that originally looked to be just a scattered mess across the Wizard’s floor, now floated midair in a dancing spectacle of magic. They moved slowly at first, but after a few moments it was impossible to tell one paper from the other. The dull look of black ink on white parchment turned into a magnificent display of colors.
Ardon’s eyes rolled back as his concentration turned into a magical trance, his lips repeating the same chant over and over. Each word pronounced with the precision that only a well studied Wizard could give. His hands weaving the same pattern through the air, grasping with all their strength at what looked to be nothing, but was truly the raw magic that only Ardon could feel, flowing throughout his body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Demons of all types gathered around the spectacle before them. An infinite spectrum of black, white, and grays sparked into the hazy air. After a few moments the small crowd had turned into a chaotic swarm of creatures, and the small sparks began to form into a swirling mist. The mist soon took shape, the glassy surface showing a blurred reflection of some far off picture. The malicious thoughts began to echo out into the minds of each creature. They became anxious to understand what stood before them, who this… wizard was, or more importantly: why had he opened a planar door for them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ardon’s mind flew across the Astral plane, and deep into the outer planes. This was the best method, he thought. For he truly never intended to actually go across the planes himself. He was a wizard, yes, but he knew the dangers that were involved with planar travel.. His mind, with great speed, searched deep into the depths of the dark plane. The overwhelming apathy and despair seeped into the hearts of all those who entered it’s endless gray waste, another reason why he had chosen this method of travel. His physical absence from the plane, and his solid concentration, was all he needed to keep his mind free of the depression’s crushing grasp.
His mind passed over a mass of blackness below him, he looked at it curiously, but gave it little heed as he continued across the endless horizon. If only he had seen the spectacle they surrounded. Perhaps then, he would of understood why he felt the cold wave of despair fill his body. The deep chill of hopelessness and apathy echoing throughout his heart. His mind jolted and twisted, the mental image of the realm closed as he shook out of his trance.
He relaxed with a deep breath as he held his throbbing head. He laid flat on the cold, stone floor of his tower. Not quite sure what had gone wrong, he began to draw his hands away from his head. His eyes widened suddenly as the blurry images around him sharpened into the nightmare he had thought he escaped. He didn’t even notice the thick blood that covered his matted hair and wrinkled hands. His breath was taken as he began to recognize the figures that stood before him. A dark yugoloth stepped forward, blade in hand, in a menacing stalk that brought back the chilling despair of it’s home plane.
Ardon had to act fast. He dug his hand into one of his many belt pouches, and drew out a piece of gum arabic. Pulling an eyelash and encasing it into the arabic, his mouth quickly began chanting the studied words of a spell. His hands, filling the air swiftly in a pattern as a stream of silver sliced down before him.
Blinking in confusion, the yugoloth stared down at where his blade had stuck. The stone floor. It closed it’s eyes in a hard squint, before reopening them suddenly and focusing in on it’s previous target.
Ardon, well aware of the abilities these creatures possessed, racked his mind in an attempt to form some kind of plan to end the horrifying events unfolding before him. Before the yugoloth could launch a second attack, Ardon pulled a severed piece of tentacle from his belt. With a quick movement of his hands, and the chanting echoes of ancient words, he tossed the tentacle between him and the approaching creatures.
The lesser creatures, ones without the ability to see through the invisibility spell, took aim once again as their target reappeared. They rushed in, only to quickly find themselves stumbling as the ground began to visibly shake. Deep cracks in the stone floor etched their way across the room. A few, able to steady their feet, continued their rush towards the battered wizard. One raised it’s blade for a strike, but just as he pulled down a single black tentacle wrapped up the creature in a death grip. As soon as it was able to push the one off, five more whipped themselves around the creature. As the tentacles wrapped him in their deathly embrace, the creature looked back to the others behind him. He looked on in unbelief as rubbery, black tentacles engulfed the swarm of attackers.
Ardon took deep breaths as he began centering his concentration. His hands moving in rhythm with the soft chants flowing from his cracked lips. Ardon drew in every bit of energy he could force from the realm around him, some of it perhaps divine as he asked Mystra for her help, in desperation of ending this terrible disaster.
With the magic energy swirling around his patterned movements, Ardon began to look further than the tower. He looked into himself, searching into the depths of his soul as he combined every bit of raw magic he could gather. His eyes burst open suddenly as his final chant rang out, “Tubockt fey laratu-fah”. The burst of energy filled the tower, warping the walls into demented shapes, and causing a momentary loss of gravity.
Now floating, Ardon stood outstretched, in a thrusting motion as another wave of energy pulsated throughout the tower. The creatures starred in awe, ignoring their painful wrestle with the tentacles, as another wave of agony fell over them. Then, all they knew, was the endless darkness of death.
// It's no where near finished, and neither is Ardon :P I just haven't gotten around to finishing the next few parts >_> And as an FYI, the plane was hades. Just thought this was a good place to cut off to the next.. "chapter" or .. whatever you wanna call it lol.//
He had a deep respect for the powers he was capable of harnessing, and he knew well the dangers of those powers. He knew even more the dangers of the runes that laid scattered at his feet. It is said, that there is a time in almost every Wizard‘s life when wisdom and knowledge become only small obstacles in the path of power. However, this didn‘t apply so much to Ardon, for he wasn’t driven by the craving of ultimate power. No, not at all. His mind was driven by a much more innocent ambition. Curiosity.
It had taken nearly two decades for Ardon to prepare for this moment. Nights of no sleep and vigorous studying had finally brought him to the pinnacle of his craft. This was the day he had awaited all his life. He recounted the steps in his mind as he reached a worn hand into a belt pouch. His hands visibly shook as he fingered the final piece to the puzzle.
He took a deep breath to calm his rising nerves, and to steady his, now trembling, hands. He knew it would take his full concentration to make this work. As he exhaled another breath he began to move his hands in a pattern, one he had studied well over the last eighteen years. With the exhale of another deep breath he began the rhythm of an ancient, magical chant. The words echoed out across the planes, bouncing from one to the other until it had reached it’s intended destination. The stray papers that originally looked to be just a scattered mess across the Wizard’s floor, now floated midair in a dancing spectacle of magic. They moved slowly at first, but after a few moments it was impossible to tell one paper from the other. The dull look of black ink on white parchment turned into a magnificent display of colors.
Ardon’s eyes rolled back as his concentration turned into a magical trance, his lips repeating the same chant over and over. Each word pronounced with the precision that only a well studied Wizard could give. His hands weaving the same pattern through the air, grasping with all their strength at what looked to be nothing, but was truly the raw magic that only Ardon could feel, flowing throughout his body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Demons of all types gathered around the spectacle before them. An infinite spectrum of black, white, and grays sparked into the hazy air. After a few moments the small crowd had turned into a chaotic swarm of creatures, and the small sparks began to form into a swirling mist. The mist soon took shape, the glassy surface showing a blurred reflection of some far off picture. The malicious thoughts began to echo out into the minds of each creature. They became anxious to understand what stood before them, who this… wizard was, or more importantly: why had he opened a planar door for them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ardon’s mind flew across the Astral plane, and deep into the outer planes. This was the best method, he thought. For he truly never intended to actually go across the planes himself. He was a wizard, yes, but he knew the dangers that were involved with planar travel.. His mind, with great speed, searched deep into the depths of the dark plane. The overwhelming apathy and despair seeped into the hearts of all those who entered it’s endless gray waste, another reason why he had chosen this method of travel. His physical absence from the plane, and his solid concentration, was all he needed to keep his mind free of the depression’s crushing grasp.
His mind passed over a mass of blackness below him, he looked at it curiously, but gave it little heed as he continued across the endless horizon. If only he had seen the spectacle they surrounded. Perhaps then, he would of understood why he felt the cold wave of despair fill his body. The deep chill of hopelessness and apathy echoing throughout his heart. His mind jolted and twisted, the mental image of the realm closed as he shook out of his trance.
He relaxed with a deep breath as he held his throbbing head. He laid flat on the cold, stone floor of his tower. Not quite sure what had gone wrong, he began to draw his hands away from his head. His eyes widened suddenly as the blurry images around him sharpened into the nightmare he had thought he escaped. He didn’t even notice the thick blood that covered his matted hair and wrinkled hands. His breath was taken as he began to recognize the figures that stood before him. A dark yugoloth stepped forward, blade in hand, in a menacing stalk that brought back the chilling despair of it’s home plane.
Ardon had to act fast. He dug his hand into one of his many belt pouches, and drew out a piece of gum arabic. Pulling an eyelash and encasing it into the arabic, his mouth quickly began chanting the studied words of a spell. His hands, filling the air swiftly in a pattern as a stream of silver sliced down before him.
Blinking in confusion, the yugoloth stared down at where his blade had stuck. The stone floor. It closed it’s eyes in a hard squint, before reopening them suddenly and focusing in on it’s previous target.
Ardon, well aware of the abilities these creatures possessed, racked his mind in an attempt to form some kind of plan to end the horrifying events unfolding before him. Before the yugoloth could launch a second attack, Ardon pulled a severed piece of tentacle from his belt. With a quick movement of his hands, and the chanting echoes of ancient words, he tossed the tentacle between him and the approaching creatures.
The lesser creatures, ones without the ability to see through the invisibility spell, took aim once again as their target reappeared. They rushed in, only to quickly find themselves stumbling as the ground began to visibly shake. Deep cracks in the stone floor etched their way across the room. A few, able to steady their feet, continued their rush towards the battered wizard. One raised it’s blade for a strike, but just as he pulled down a single black tentacle wrapped up the creature in a death grip. As soon as it was able to push the one off, five more whipped themselves around the creature. As the tentacles wrapped him in their deathly embrace, the creature looked back to the others behind him. He looked on in unbelief as rubbery, black tentacles engulfed the swarm of attackers.
Ardon took deep breaths as he began centering his concentration. His hands moving in rhythm with the soft chants flowing from his cracked lips. Ardon drew in every bit of energy he could force from the realm around him, some of it perhaps divine as he asked Mystra for her help, in desperation of ending this terrible disaster.
With the magic energy swirling around his patterned movements, Ardon began to look further than the tower. He looked into himself, searching into the depths of his soul as he combined every bit of raw magic he could gather. His eyes burst open suddenly as his final chant rang out, “Tubockt fey laratu-fah”. The burst of energy filled the tower, warping the walls into demented shapes, and causing a momentary loss of gravity.
Now floating, Ardon stood outstretched, in a thrusting motion as another wave of energy pulsated throughout the tower. The creatures starred in awe, ignoring their painful wrestle with the tentacles, as another wave of agony fell over them. Then, all they knew, was the endless darkness of death.
// It's no where near finished, and neither is Ardon :P I just haven't gotten around to finishing the next few parts >_> And as an FYI, the plane was hades. Just thought this was a good place to cut off to the next.. "chapter" or .. whatever you wanna call it lol.//
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