Prologue

The swirling colors. The first feeling of wind on one's face. The breath that
classifies the beginning of one's life. Stepping out from the Portal of Fate.
It is an event that leaves some bewildered, others amazed. But for a select
few, the passage burns a hole in their
conscious. It sears them, the innocent whose memory is shrouded. This is the
tale of one such unfortunate soul and how he overcame the injustices that had
befallen him.

Part 1 - Rebirth

Ulfast held his head between his hands, trying to steady himself. The horizon
gleamed auburn as Father Sun began is daily quest anew. Just outside an uneven
rock rolled down the steep path up to the Avenger. Behind him the Portal of
Fate spun innocently. He had no idea what he was doing or where he was supposed
to go.

"To the Pool of Stars," a voice seemed to echo in his head. "Someone will be
waiting for you there." Ulfast was puzzled. He concentrated as hard as he was
able, hoping to contact the voice he had heard.

"How do I get there?" he asked.

"Portal away, young one, go south and read the sign." Ulfast prayed to the Gods
to rescue him and seconds later he was standing in a room surrounded by portals
on all sides. Marveled by this strange place, he went south as directed. Just
as the voice had said, a signpost was erected in the middle of the area, arrows
pointing in various
directions. Ascerning the direction to the Pool of Stars, Ulfast took a deep
breath and stepped into his new home.

Ulfast blinked repeatedly to restore his sight. Father Sun blazed overhead,
showering the Basin in light and warmth. The monumental structure in front of
him was breathtaking. Gray stones lined the crystal clear water. The liquid
shimmered with the remarkable
consistency of the night sky. Gazing into the Pool, Ulfast noticed his face for
the first time. He lightly touched his pale cheek and cringed at the sight of
his undeveloped muscles. Glancing down, Ulfast suddenly became acutely aware of
his own nakedness. Passersby covered their eyes, embarrassed, while some pointed
and laughed. Tears began to well up in Ulfast's eyes, threatening to humiliate
him further.

"Put these on." A hooded figure delicately draped in white robes handed Ulfast
a pair of shorts and a simple leather tunic. "It's not much but it will stop
the ridicule. Walk with me."

The man gestured to one of the sidestreets and placed a comforting hand on
Ulfast's shoulder. But at the moment of contact the figure instantly withdrew
his hand, gasping. Even through the darkness created by the hood, Ulfast could
see a sinister glare present on the man's face.

"Scum!" the man shouted, tearing the clothes from Ulfast's body. "Tainted
devil! Begone from the City of Light and return to your filthy domain!" Some
of the citizens looked up from their duties to view the commotion. The figure
spat on the ground in disgust and pushed Ulfast into a nearly puddle. He
hurried angrily away leaving Ulfast alone on
the ground. A rat crept from its hiding place and began nibbling on Ulfast's
ear. He shoved the creature aside and stood up. Seagulls circled above him,
cawing loudly.

Ulfast made his way south to a vast expanse of water. The waves rolled
rhythmically on the shore, an army marching back and forth to the beat of an
aquatic drum. The smell of salt wafted through the air, calming the senses.
Ulfast sat down in the water, contemplating what had just occurred. Nothing
made sense to him. Taint? Devil? Scum? Why was he being judged and being
treated this way? He looked up for some divine inspiration but all he received
was a salty wave in the face.

Dripping, Ulfast got out of the water and stood in the sun's rays to dry. While
he was waiting, the hooded figure's voice reverberated in his mind.

"If you come back in the City and plague us again with your presence you will
be killed on sight. Stay away."

Ulfast became slightly frightened at the threat, but began to think. If he was,
indeed, a citizen of New Celest then he was entitled to reside there so long as
he remained a part of the City. It was time for him to rise up against these
people, to defend his reputation, or what was left of it. Still naked, he made
up his mind and walked back through the Cassis Cornuta gate. He had done no
more than step on the first cobblestone when the aether strands around him
tugged viciously. Fading into view came the hooded figure, but this time he was
clad in an impressive suit of armour. He was accompanied by a battalion of armed
citizens. They brandished their weapons, threatening Ulfast and daring him to
come closer. Ulfast's brow moistened and he formed his empty hands into fists.
The Pool of Stars glittered, taunting the situation with a sparkling air.

"I told you not to come here. By disobeying the order of the Prince you have
informed us that you hold your personal goals above those of the City. This
thought line is not tolerated. Therefore, I hereby remove you from the
Righteous Principality of New Celest!" With a sagely nod, magical energies
ripped through Ulfast's body, tearing skin from bone. Paladins hacked off limbs
and the Archons of Eternal Light subjugated their will upon him.

"Let it be known! Viscanti, the products of the Taint, are banned from this
pure City! Offer his corpse quickly before the pestilence spreads." A group of
armored Knights hoisted Ulfast's body roughly and offered it to Terentia.

Ulfast prayed fervently to the Gods for salvation as his soul was torn from his
body. A heated debate erupted, arguing whether or not his thread should be cut,
removed from the Tapestry of Life forever. In the end it was decided that
Ulfast should be granted another chance to prove himself worthy of existence.
And his soul tumbled through the blackness as it was reunited with its bodily
container.

For the second time that day Ulfast stood before the Portal of Fate, but this
time he was changed. His viscanti muscles were more defined. Veins bulged as
angry blood coursed through the passageways. Green light glowed ominously on
his fingertips. But it was his face that was the focal point. Covered in a mask
of hatred, dark shadows lay underneath
his red eyes. The thick, coarse hair that use to be present had disappeared,
replace by a baldness which further contributed to his sinister presence.

"Ulfast is a name of the past, a name of weakness," he whispered to himself.
"With a new body comes a new name. One that represents the core of my goals,
the embodiment of my hatred. Silphion. Yes, the very essence of the name
resembles the feelings in my heart."

Silphion, born anew, made his way straight to the City of Magnagora. As he
strode along the grimy streets he noticed others of the same races as he. The
weathered buildings were plagued with cracks and decay. The looming odor of
evil and death filled his nostrils. This place was much better, more suited to
his tastes and ambitions. The Taint of his ancestors was here, living in this
city, vitalizing his spirit and mind.

Silphion marched right up to the center of the Necropolis and knelt on the
soot-covered ground. The tower stood menacingly, a sentry vigilantly standing
guard against oppressors.

"I am here to join this City, to join a guild that will allow me to torture my
enemies and corrupt my foes. I am here, my brothers, because I hate the Light.
I seek to snuff it out and cover this Basin in darkness."

A tall Master Viscanti stepped from a nearby antechamber. He was clothed in
meticulously crafted robes of a deep purple tint. Horrific images of cruel
inflictions of pain graphically classified the beliefs of his guild.

"You have come to the right place with the right attitude," he said. "But in
order to be absolutely certain of your intentions I must be assured that you
are prepared to undergo this transformation" Silphion prostrated his naked body
on the ground and nodded grimly. A crowd had gathered but they did not laugh at
his lack of clothing. "The without
further chatter we shall begin."

"Would you surrender your life to ensure the Taint spreads?"

"I would offer my life tenfold."

"Would you kill mercilessly and torture until your victim is crafted into an
instrument in the service of the Taint?"

"Gladly and without question."

"Do you surrender yourself to the power and teachings of the Demon Lords and
swear to worship Fain, the Red Masque?"

"With every crevice in my heart I, Silphion, swear my allegiance to Them."

The viscanti pursed his lips and nodded. "Your eyes tell no lies and your face
reveals no deceit. Welcome to the Nihilists, Silphion, and the Sovereign
Territories of Magnagora. Let us hope that your words were spoken in truth. If
not, you will find your stay here painful and short-lived. Lord Luciphage can
easily discern a web of deceit and will tangle you up in it like a helpless
fly."

A riotous cheer rose up and echoed throughout the city, congratulating their
newest citizen. Black smoke billowed from the Megalith of Doom, obstructing the
stars from the gazer's view. Torches came to life with the fire dancing an eerie
light onto the shadows. Silphion smirked, for he was pleased.

"I may have just steeped out of the Portal, Celest," he mumbled, "but you will
learn to fear me in the end."

The Nihilist Administrator handed Silphion pitch black robes stitched with
blood-red thread on the cuffs. The viscanti donned the cloak and smiling to
himself, he raised his hood.

Part 2 - Dawn of Opportunity

"The Demon Lords are not pleased, Ramdal."

A pot of incense burned in the corner, releasing its sickly sweet throughout
the room. Combined with the light from a single candle the smoke hovered over
the cloaked figure with a mystic solemness. In the opposite end of the room a
scrawny quivering man writhed in painful convulsions. He was marked with deep
scarlet scratches which were mostly vivid on his back. The man stopped
shuddering and for a few moments the only sound was his heavy breathing.

"Mystagogue, forgive me, I was blinded by my enemies," he whimpered.

The cloaked man stood up from his chair yet his features remained concealed in
the darkness.

"No, Ramdal, you were blinded by your own ambitions." Once again Ramdal's body
surrendered to a series of violent spasms. "Perhaps I need to remind you about
our City's policy regarding Celest. We despise them and they despise us. This
does not need to be written down. It is a mutual hatred, fires fueled by war,
raids, and lies." The Mystagogue
paced back and forth, his voice exhibiting edginess and anger. "And yet you
decide to make friends with our rivals to the west by giving away guild secrets
to the Celestines. You disgust me."

The cloaked man stepped into the light revealing his identity: Silphion.

"As far as I am concerned you are no longer a Nihilist. Get out of my office
before I change my mind about sparing your life."

Ramdal bowed twice quickly before turning around and sprinting away from
Silphion.

The Nihilist Administrator took a brass key from his pocket and locked the door
to his chambers. He let a sigh of resignation escape his lips and sat on his
comfortable crimson armchair. Closing his eyes, Silphion quietly began
reminiscing on the past few years. Since his rebirth, as he was calling it
these days, Silphion had dedicated every waking moment to learning the doctrine
of the Demon Lords, namely Luciphage. After serving his time and graduating from
being a lowly Penitent, Silphion made a pact with the Supreme Master. The
experience had been, simply, exhilarating. By giving his life in service he
felt the power of Luciphage in every breath.

Outside the thundering march of the Death Knights pounded on the broken
cobblestones. Silphion waited for the din to subside so he could concentrate
once again. The incense was not smoking as fiercely now but it still formed a
thick cloud which hung heavily by the ceiling. Wax continued to drip along the
side of the candle, solidifying to create a
unique structure.

Dwelling back once more, Silphion clearly remembered the events from a more
recent timeframe. Because of his loyalty to the City, guild, and Fain, he was
allowed to contest the previous Mystagogue of the Dark Fates. In a surprising
upset Silphion defeated the Administrator in the election and took on his new
role with pride. Since then Silphion had
imposed ideas of reform upon the guild, enforcing torture and manipulation with
methods unseen before. The name of Silphion chimed throughout the Basin and with
it, his reputation for domination. But to this point he had refrained from
revealing his first identity. Silphion was pained to think about that wretched
creature and he only wanted to
unveil his secret one time.

A knock on his door brought him back to reality. Silphion scowled. He was not
prone to remain idle when someone interrupted him in his meditative state. He
unlocked the door and opened it and found himself looking into the face of the
Governor, Dakkul.

"My Liege," Silphion said, bowing deeply. He indicated to a vacant armchair.
"Please, come in."

Dakkul rejected the offer politely. "My pardon, Silphion, but the matters at
hand are far too pressing for even a moment's rest."

"What's happening? Is there a raid on Nil?"

"The sea battle is underway."

Silphion's heart raced. This was the moment, his moment, to get his revenge on
the followers of the Light. There would be no mistakes, only glory and the
hellish cackling of laughter as he extinguished the Light from the souls of his
enemies. A wry smile spread across the Mystagogue's face like the curving blade
of a scythe, prepared to wreak havoc and deal out justice.

"To the sea!"

Part 3 - Silphion's Vengeance

The dolphin let out its final cry before going limp in death. Blood escaped its
mouth, swirling through the water like scarlet smoke. Burnt flesh marred its
frail body as a result of cosmic fire. Silphion scooped us his prey and lashed
it to the others on his shoulder. He was equipped with waterwalk and breathe
enchantments for the occasion.

"The Emperor will be content. Let us go to his cave so his thirst for blood may
be quenched." The Mystagogue beckoned to the other Magnagorans and they swam
downwards to find the underwater abode. Seaweed waved menacingly, trying to
wrap around their ankles and pull them to the icy depths. Schools of fish
traveled as one, synchronizing their movements to maximize feeding efficiency.
Father Sun's rays were barely able to penetrate the waters of the Sea of
Despair a few hundred feet. Beyond that it was blacker than coal.

Silphion let them straight to Emperor Ladantine. Those gazing upon him for the
first time might have thought he was a living corpse. Gray skin covered his
bones, colored by the freezing water. Barnacles clung helplessly to his
appendages, desperate for a host. The Emperor's cold eyes pierced through the
darkness in a harsh stare. Silphion swam forward, holding the dolphin corpses
in front of him. Ladantine averted his gaze to the offering.

"You wish to aid the sea wolves?"

Silphion nodded and watched as the dolphins were taken off of his hands. The
Emperor held his decrepit fingers above the lifeless dolphins and chanted
ancient words of mysticism. Slowly the corpses began to spin, twirling faster
as Ladantine increased the tempo. They became a grayish blur and bubbles rose
to the surface in angry swarms. Ladantine's eyes rolled back in their rotting
sockets and the spinning slowed to a stop. The dolphins had disappeared,
replaced by a pack of sea wolves.

"Join the ranks and slay those turtles. Show no mercy!" The Emperor slumped
over in exhaustion from his ordeal and the wolves swam off, snarling.

"Thank you, your Highness." He bowed and the group went back to the surface.

"And now we wait for the outcome." They waded out to the beach and rested, not
knowing how the battle would unfold. Some slept, others ate. Father Sun
continued his journey across the sky and the light faded as Night approached.
Solemn and silent, Mother Moon shed Her light onto the Basin, a fraction of the
brightness of the sun. Out of the stillness erupted the howls of the sea wolves,
victorious in their rout of the dragon turtles. The Magnagorans cheered and
congratulated their fellow citizens on a job well done.

"Our work is not finished yet, comrades. The medusa fish have returned and with
it, an opportunity. Seek out the fish and kill them. We will reconvene at dawn.
When this is done, then we shall celebrate."

They ventured back into the icy waters of the Sea of Despair. For the entire
night the Magnagorans slaughtered medusa fish. The first light of morning crept
over the horizon onto the bloody pile of medusas. Dark clouds rolled in and
covered Father Sun and raindrops began to fall.

"Quickly, before Celest gets their act together. The Inner Sea calls."

They sprinted on the Highway west to Bondero Bay. The rain was coming down more
steadily now and thunder rumbled in the distant mountains. Speeding up, they
swam to the Inner Sea, maneuvering their way through the depths and past the
vegetation. Eventually a dark shadow appeared, hidden amidst rocky outcrops. As
they neared it became clear. It was the Ship of the Dead.

Excitement electrified the water as Silphion barked orders. "You three," he
pointed, "take some medusa to the helm. You two, check the cabin and
below-decks. The rest of you go to the bow and I'll take portside and
starboard."

Scattered all through the lichen-ridden deck were skeletons of long-dead crew
members. Cemented to the wood and clothed in rags, they waited for a medusa
fish to free them from their watery prison. One by one, the Magnagorans placed
the fish in their bones, resurrecting the skeletons to sail again. In but a few
moments the entire crew had been brought to life except for the captain.
Silphion breathed in the moment, and placed a medusa in the captain's chest
cavity. His bonds were broken and he stood up.

"The crew is reborn!" the captain shouted. "Take this to the Emperor that he
may sail with us in this great journey." As he said this, the captain handed an
elaborate horn to Silphion.

"The Horn of Urlach," he murmured. Silphion glanced up and remembered the
urgency of the situation. "To the Emperor!" Shouts of approval rose up, half
muffled by the weight of the water.

They took the Highway back through Magnagora to the Sea of Despair. Once they
arrived at the Emperor, Silphion bowed and gave him the Horn. The Emperor
looked surprised.

"The Ship is ready to sail?"

Silphion nodded sagely. "All they need is their last passenger."

"Lead on, mortal."

Wincing at the word, 'mortal', Silphion led the group back to the Inner Sea.

"Stay alert. Now Celest, if they're not here already, will be on their way."

Members of the Ur'Guard drew their weapons and they ingested kafe beans.
Malicious streaks of lightning cut open the sky and a downpour ensued. The wind
was picking up; perfect for sailing.

When they reached the Ship, the skeletons let out a hearty cheer. The captain
aided the Emperor in getting into the ship and the sails were unfurled.
Silphion shook with anticipation.

Emperor Ladantine spread his arms wide. "Curses be upon those who oppose us. We
know no fear. Death to the kelpies!" And, with a glorious uproar, the Ship of
the Dead set out to plague the Inner Sea. Silphion was elated. Now that he had
tasted revenge he wanted more. More pain. More terror. More death.

"You devilish fiends. All of you will pay for this act against Celest."

Silphion turned around to gaze upon a company of New Celest's finest citizens.
He recognized some of them as those who participated in slaughtering him those
many years before. But the one who spoke was the one he wanted. The same Prince
who had ordered his death. Relathon. Silphion's hatred swelled to a boil and a
bulging vein emerged on the top of his forehead.

"You have no permission to be in these waters and by releasing the Ship you
have surrendered any potential alibi," Relathon continued. "Prepare to die at
the hands of the Light." The Celestians began to move in on Silphion's
companions. The viscanti held up his hands.

"Hold on, Prince." He emphasized the last word, leaving it dripping with
disdain. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Who doesn't know you, Silphion? Quit playing games."

"Ah, so you have no idea. A pity."

"What are you talking about, scum?"

Silphion grimaced at the insult. "This scum challenges you to a duel. Just
you, me, and the suffocating wrath of my might."

The Prince laughed sarcastically. "You are in no position to bargain, but I
accept your challenge."

Pulling on a wet pair of midnight gloves, Silphion smiled. "Excellent. And
when I’m about to kill you I will let you know my previous identity."

"You're too confident, Silphion. Too power-hungry. It all ends here." The
Prince brandished a twin pair of rapiers threateningly.

Silphion concentrated and blasted a ball of searing cosmic fire at Relathon,
hitting him square in the chest. Even though they were underwater, blisters
still formed and could be seen through the hole in his robes. Snarling, the
Prince rushed at Silphion, impaling his right leg. Blood oozed from the wound.
A nearby tiger shark smelled the blood in the water and came barreling at the
fighters. Silphion took advantage of the distraction to summon his archdemon.
The demon clawed at Relathon, who had not successfully evaded the shark's
attack. Momentarily pushed back, the Prince beheaded the demon and spit blood
from his mouth. The shark sensed that Fate had destined this duel and swam off
to find more appealing prey.

Bleeding wounds opened on Silphion's face and his eyes flashed red. He charged
the Prince and crushed him up against a nearby boulder, cracking ribs.

"I--am--at--your mercy," the Prince gasped.

"Indeed. But that will not stop me from dealing out retribution. Do you recall
a viscanti who entered as a citizen of your city by the name of Ulfast?"

Whimpering, Relathon nodded. "I faintly remember someone by that name."

"Isn't it true that you murdered him in cold blood? An innocent novice who
hadn't the slightest clue about Celest's policies? I was that viscanti.
Surprise, surprise."

The Prince's eyes shone with pure terror and he cowered in fear. Silphion
chortled madly.

"You call yourself the City of Light, a shining beacon for those lost."
Silphion continued laughing. "An empty statement. The Light is gone. The age of
the Taint is upon us. Upon you."

A mere inches away from Relathon's face, Silphion unleashed a terribly powerful
blast of cosmic fire. The Prince, faceless, went limp.

Silphion turned to his ground. "Kill them all, and grant no pardons." That
stormy night the Inner Sea was crimson with the blood of Celest. Silphion
smiled. Revenge was sweet.