This is a firsthand account of the pivotal day in the series of events that have
come to be known as the Secrets of the Viscanti Great Houses. Because my
perspective of that day was unique, I've decided to record the tale here. As
with any singular viewpoint, the account is not complete in a grand sense; but
it is true, and that suffices for me. I dedicate this work to Lord Japhiel,
whose guidance has strengthened me throughout the composition of this account.

- - - - - not a good morning... - - - - -

I woke up, as I often do, in the men's dormitory in the east wing of the
Celestine seminary. It had taken me half the night to get to sleep, thinking
about how on earth I could help the knights in the castle atop Smoke Mountain
protect themselves against the marauding fink warriors. I knew I was running
out of time, and the gnomes seemed almost incapable of maintaining their
defenses. It didn't occur to me yet, in the usual haze of my cold-blooded
mornings, that the shaking of the walls was something to be alarmed about.

I wandered out along the Path of Righteousness to the observatory, climbing
upstairs to take some readings from the astrolabe before the sun's light
completely blocked the stars. The moon had sailed its waxing crescent into
Antlers, joining slow Aapek there, and I wondered if we would see lots of
held-back emotion over the next couple of days. In hindsight, I couldn't have
interpreted the heavens more incorrectly. More to the point, at that moment I
couldn't help but see the Star of Celest flare and then dim, and at the same
time hear a crackle of power unprecedented in my young life.

I almost tripped over my tail hurrying down the marble staircase and ran out
onto Whelk, craning my neck upwards. Kinsmen were running to and fro with what
I'll generously deem determination, and there was an even bigger commotion at
the Pool of Stars than usual.

After several moments of pregnant pause, I saw why for myself.

- - - - - dangers unsought and chosen... - - - - -

A massive form, completely translucent except for a spike-bristled brain, came
striding over the Inner Sea like a wakabi looming over an injured snake. She
would have walked right into New Celest from the harbor were it not for the
flashing Star, driving her back and causing her near-invisible face to grimace.
With an angry bellow she thrust her fist towards the city, and I nearly fainted
at the massive column of blackness aimed directly at my eyeridge (it seemed to
me) before realizing that the city's protective barrier had dispersed it. The
form treaded away enraged, and the deafening supernatural noise gave way to a
more recognizable deafening mortal clamor.

I hurried south to the Pool and tried to get answers out of my kinsmen, but
nobody was paying attention to a young Child of Light. The name "Empress Kebira
n'Rotri" kept being mentioned, presumably the see-through giant whom New Celest
had just survived another attack from. The steam had it that she was coming
from Magnagora, that she bore the Taint, that our enemies had summoned her,
that she was a Soulless Goddess come to destroy us all - in other words, more
panic than information. But one thing was certain: nobody knew why it was
happening ... nobody in New Celest, anyway.

I stepped out of the rush and thought for a moment. The benevolent Gods were
still smiling upon me, so recently lost upon Avechna's Peak. I knew in my heart
that they would grant my request for travel if I didn't beseech them too often.
And as young as I was, I hoped that even the cruelest of the Magnagorans
wouldn't take too much unpleasant notice of me.

So that's how it happened that, on the morning of the 21st of Juliary, 137
years after the Coming of Estarra, a little dracnari with the fire of Light
inside him flung himself into the heart of Magnagora.

- - - - - standing among the Tainted... - - - - -

It's hard to describe what a truly ugly city Magnagora is, at least how it
looks in this age. A masochistic painter could give up coltsfoot and make a
lifetime of studying the palette of grays that begrudgingly defines its streets
and buildings. Inside the Necropolis, in particular, the darkness that their
Tainted nexus exudes is both palpable and deeply unsettling. The Megalith's
foul fumes fill the three-tiered dome that houses it; I don't know how their
keeper Ardrak is able to keep breathing in its presence. Breathing within
Magnagora, in general, is not something I'd recommend.

Of course breathing does beat the alternative, and the main reason I was still
breathing, despite standing at the very focal point of Taint in the Basin of
Life, was that the Magnagorans were every bit as "determined" as my brethren
back in the city of Light. Dully gleaming motes of power crackled off of the
Megalith of Doom periodically, as here an orclach would place his hands upon it
to disappear to some unknown destination in a fountain of pulsating energy, or
there a seething of turgid color upon its surface would spit out a viscanti,
fetid gas rushing from her lips as she hurried away.

After a few long moments of trying hard to act inconspicuous, I realized that
even if I wanted to I'd have nearly as much trouble getting these people's
attention as I had had back at the Pool. It dawned upon me slowly that the
Magnagorans were every bit as flustered as we servants of Celestia, that there
was an equal amount of ridiculous speculation passing among the twisted
populace ... that, to put a name to it, they were an unexpected mix of angry
and frightened - not at all what I would have expected from a group that some
said had summoned lost Gods under their control.

The next thing I knew, I witnessed quite clearly how far from in control the
Magnagorans were.

- - - - - an inexorable attack... - - - - -

The massive apparition with the metallic mind, whom I had come to know as
Empress Kebira n'Rotri, rose up from the Megalith and filled the three-story
dome as snugly as a snail in its shell. With a voice as literally forceful as
it was black she yelled, "Give me power, you slaves!" and lifted her arms above
her. Tendrils of dark power flew from all sides of the Necropolis into them, and
only when her earth-rending bellow ceased did I realize that I too was
screaming.

Blood seeped from a thousand scales as my skin was burst by the power of
Kebira's voice. My mind reeled and was half-drained, and when my hand reached
out to the wall for support I realized that it was the ground instead. Though I
was almost too dazed to concentrate, I forced myself to chant a quick Puella
ritual for the physical wounds before taking a sip from a fire-ruby vial and
sitting back on my tail to soothe my mind with meditation.

From my seat I saw the Empress melt through the northwestern wall of the
Necropolis, and a few moments later dampened versions of the noises I had heard
from my home found their way inside to our ears. By counting the crackles and
then hearing the translucent lady's enraged voice intensifying, I surmised that
New Celest stood yet again. With startling suddenness Kebira oozed back inside
the dome and faded away, the air still thrumming with power.

I tumbled to the ground, not knowing whether my strength was leaving me for
good.

- - - - - putting myself to use... - - - - -

When I had gained some measure of equilibrium from my trial, I groggily
contacted my kinsmen, using an aether that only citizens of New Celest could
hear as I had been taught, letting them know that I was reconnoitering at the
Megalith and describing what I had seen so far. Naturally they near-insisted,
with great surprise and concern, that I remove myself back to New Celest before
some ur'Guard decided to cordially marshal me to my own death. I told them I
wouldn't pick any fights, wouldn't make a scene, wouldn't breathe a flicker to
draw attention to myself. Regrettably, at the time I had barely learned any
high magic - only enough to set the foundation for my studies of cosmic magic,
which I had been eager to begin - and so evoking Yesod wasn't even an option
for me.

By this time I was more or less fully recovered from my recent ordeal, and so
as if orchestrated by Viravain Herself, the ill-defined form of the Empress
rose once again to bellow for power. There was nothing I could do to stop the
painful sapping of my will to feed her strength; but as she left again through
the walls of the Necropolis I managed to remember my early lessons in
discipline, clotting my blood and immediately falling into a meditative trance.
I seem to remember a priestess of some sort healing my body, and in fact when I
had regained my mental energies, I was startled to be looking at a perfect
reflection of myself! Apparently these Tainted were so unsettled by the
presence of this power-mad apparition that they weren't even taking the time to
see that they were casting protections upon a Child of Light from New Celest!
That caused me to chuckle - inwardly, of course.

I chewed pensively on a loose scale and tried to think what I could find out in
the name of the Light. After a period observing the comings and goings of the
Magnagorans, I realized that a lot of them seemed to be concerned with what was
happening beneath the Necropolis. Slinking away, my departure noticed only by a
second Neerth who followed me faithfully, I found a staircase descending below
the base of one of the twisted towers that surround their black nexus. As the
pandemonium of the city above was replaced by moaning echoes, I wandered
aimlessly around slimy hallways and narrow gateways, getting my bearings in the
dim passages.

Writing the words that describe what I found below the streets of Magnagora
makes me shudder even now.

- - - - - the halls of the damned... - - - - -

The labyrinth below the Necropolis was laid out roughly like a scorpion, its
stinging tail held out to the south and its limbs splayed out on four
diagonals. At the end of each one lay a set of steps corresponding to the five
towers above, Tainted structures with names like Insufferable Cruelty and
Thousand Hungers, evil homages to Damnations and Dark Fates. The five chambers
held graven images of the Demon Lords that those Nil-besotted beings worship;
and clustered around each of the five, the pulsing forms of damned souls,
hundreds and thousands of them, wavering in their piteous incapacity and
moaning their constant wails of hopelessness.

About this time, the noises from above my head signified yet another return of
Kebira's apparition. I had closed my eyes in quick prayer to Lady Shakiniel
that I was not attacked this time, when a change in the timbre of the
underground din caused me to glance up sharply. Incredibly, good news greeted
my eyes! Instant by instant, scores of trapped souls would throw off their
ethereal fetters, coruscating brightly as they rose before shimmering
gratefully out of sight. Even I could sense the weakening of the dark fabric
woven from Nihilistic power beneath the Necropolis.

When my saddened kinsmen spoke of the deaths caused by the assaults of the
Empress, repelled in the main though they were, I was at least able to pass
along my observations: whatever toll this day was taking on New Celest, there
was Light's work being done here in balance. As I carefully made my way back up
to the center of Magnagora, I tried to set aside my suddenly intense worries
that some of those slain supplicants were people I knew. As I focused my mind
upon reporting my observations back to New Celest, it occurred to me to ask
myself:

What might the Magnagorans do, if they knew what I knew?

- - - - - an ominous respite... - - - - -

As the night deepened (when did the sun set? I had time to wonder), the
gigantic form of Kebira rose once again. This time, though, all the people in
the vicinity were hiding behind reflections of themselves. In her blind rage,
the Empress didn't spot the deception; and when she lifted her arms in command,
it was only our defenses that reacted. I'm not sure who was more surprised:
Kebira, when she realized that she hadn't gained any power from her last angry
summons, or the rest of us when she sank almost meekly back into the ground,
her presumed sally against my city aborted.

About this time there was a bit of commotion over New Celest's aether. One of
my own elders in the Celestines, Razenth, had discovered some sort of obelisk
in the cheerless village of Angkrag. He reported that the obelisk was glowing,
and that there was a connection to the Ethereal plane there, a comment that at
the time confused me more than anything, to be honest. Apparently this was old
news to the Magnagorans, for a few glimpses into the cosmic windows showed me
that some of their highest-ranked citizens were traveling to and from Angkrag.

It wasn't long before I learned what they had been up to.

- - - - - visit from a powerful enemy... - - - - -

My determination to remain inconspicuous reached new peaks of fervor when the
self-styled Dragon of Midnight, Daevos the Warlord of Magnagora himself, came
rushing into the center of the Necropolis, attended on one side by a
powerful-looking brood viscanti named Zalana and on the other by a hellish mare
galloping upon a bank of black clouds. As his Tainted subjects made way for him,
I spotted something round in his hands. Without ceremony, Daevos placed a ball
of ... something, some glittering material of deepest black, directly into the
Megalith of Doom.

Up, up the dark globe rose, visible as a moving bulge in the stone of the
Megalith. Under a malevolent glow I watched as the ball rose all the way up to
the nexus's tip. There it stopped, pulsing a bit in place. Everyone around me
looked somewhat confused, which was good as I'm sure I blended in with the
crowd extremely well as a result.

After dispensing with the glittering ball, Daevos snatched up some pieces of
coal and began etching dwarven runes, foreign to my eye, upon his vicious
katana, his blackened helm, and his admittedly magnificent full plate armor. As
the coal crumbled in his hands I abjured the Holy Supernals, as quietly as
possible, to cloak my being and slip it through time - perhaps just enough, I
mused cynically to myself, to delay my death long enough to spot whose hand it
was that slew me.

My attention thus diverted, I was startled almost to the point of yelping aloud
when Empress Kebira n'Rotri appeared once again, calling out to her "slaves" for
the power of their minds and bodies. I readied my discipline again, knowing that
if any of the Magnagorans attacked me in the weakened state I found myself in
after the apparition's previous drainings, I would have little chance of
survival.

What happened next, I would never have predicted.

- - - - - blood is spilled... - - - - -

As before, the entire structure of the Necropolis seemed to obey the Empress's
call, tendrils of dark power rising with her arms and feeding her. But not all
that she drew to her was to her advantage. The glittering black ball, embedded
in the tip of the Megalith of Doom, flew out like an arrow loosed, striking her
invisible torso and ripping through her form. The scream that escaped her
contorted lips at that moment was the most horrible sound I have ever heard.

It took me a moment to realize that I wasn't being harmed, and I had the
presence of mind to tell my kinsmen back in New Celest what was happening. "As
Lacostian is my witness," I near-profaned, "Kebira is shrinking! Her body's
getting more solid, she's barely taller than an igasho now ... she's wailing in
pain and rage, she's still diminishing...."

Not a soul moved for a long breathless moment as the process finished. Then the
Empress rushed past me (I flinched so hard I almost hurt my neck) in fury,
yelling "What have you done?!" Having done very little myself, I was emboldened
enough to follow her south a few steps towards a Tainted ritual chamber, before
stopping on my tail in a mixture of horror and delight. Kebira was attacking
the Magnagorans!

And not just attacking, but surmounting, despite the numbers against her. Death
after death found my eyes and simultaneously my attunement to the souls of the
recently departed: a Geomancer named Joli, a high-ranking Nihilist named Ashar,
and a young Magnagoran named Ansnom were all among the fallen. I must admit that
the sight of master viscanti dying, no matter to whose hand, didn't displease
me. But the Magnagorans kept coming, taking losses, but still raising sword and
magic against the Empress.

And then ... she fell.

- - - - - the conflict spreads... - - - - -

With the slaying of the suddenly vulnerable Kebira, the Magnagorans seemed as
one to breathe an enormous sigh of relief, and I didn't have to put on much of
a facade to join in, although for a much different reason. A student of some
Tainted learning, Nigredo, told us that one of the metal creatures that came
from the obelisk in Angkrag was still alive and roaming the land somewhere, and
a few of them went off to investigate that.

Midnight came, and the Tainted bell tower joined its dissonant tones to the
murky shadows of the Necropolis. And though I stayed a bit longer to see what I
could learn on behalf of the Light, the routine of the dark city seemed to have
returned to normal. A few citizens came bearing accursed dark essence in their
clutches, and the black stench that was released when they let the Megalith of
Doom absorb it was almost more than I could bear. Conversely, small cracks
appeared in its surface when people would drain power from it, although Razenth
assured me that this was a normal occurrence.

I spent some of my time abjuring the cosmic windows, keeping track of Daevos's
movements. Although the overlord moved quickly, I was able to follow him
mentally from his city's council chambers to its commodities warehouse, then to
the meat market of Angkrag. All of this I dutifully reported to Tekora over New
Celest's aether, which pleased him enough that he vowed to make sure the city
recognized me for my actions during the conflict.

Right around dawn, the leaders of Angkrag apparently decided they had had
enough of the troubles that the Magnagorans had caused them with their games,
for word spread quickly that many of the villagers were engaging in
conversation with Celestians as well as representatives of the forests,
deciding perhaps upon a new allegiance. Despite their fatigue and lack of
sleep, my kinsmen hurried out to spread the Light even to that sadly tainted
village, and I told them I would return home as well.

If I had believed the danger to me abated, it was a premature thought.

- - - - - my response to devastation... - - - - -

I toured the passages below the Necropolis one last time to take stock of the
damned souls swarming at the steps below the various dark towers. Then I
returned to the Megalith and prepared myself mentally to teleport back to my
own nexus. At that moment, an elder of one of their accursed Demon Lords named
Malvary cast a suspicious eye upon me ... only when I was moments from
departing, comically, did any of the Magnagorans actually seem to notice my
presence! I nodded vaguely and tugged upon the aether strands about myself, and
before any alarm could be raised, I was back in the city of Light.

Immediately my dread drew me to the upper deck of the Pool of Stars, where I
walked slowly in and out of the tabernacles of the Supernals. The sight ... was
unfathomably dire. Thousands of inspired supplicants of the Holy Ones lay dead,
their lives spent to protect New Celest from invasion by the Empress. The
survivors wailed in anguish, and some were collecting the bodies, but their
effort seemed to make not even a dent. For a long moment I hung my head, the
fatigue of the last day and a half pounding me with the threat of despair.

But the statues of the Supernals would not let me lose their gaze, and the
lessons of my first months within the Celestines rushed to the surface of my
thoughts. You have seen it now, they said. The Taint takes many forms; it lies
dormant one day and assaults the innocent the next. You have seen the very
purpose of your guild of guardians ... for the guardian never knows when the
assault will come. Vigilance, in Celestia's name, is your task, your calling.

And with one last prayer for the dead, I descended and struck out to the east
along Voluta Diadema, taking a shovel from my back. If I could convince five
kinsmen to become supplicants....

And so I performed the work of a Celestine ... one day at a time.