• The mages of Velador had been at war for centuries there wasnt a mage there who could remember a time without war all except one.
    The grandmaster Vetor for it was he who kept hope alive in the young initiates the civil war had started quickly with the forces of the traitor Arven attempting to take the capital in a bid for power.
    It was only through the quick thinking and brilliant strategic skills of the young mage Vetor that they won through.
    With his forces in disarray Arven was forced to retreat to the out lands a hostile and barren wasteland surrounded by roaming bands of orcs trolls and worse.

    Every few generations Arvens forces would attack twisted and driven mad by the wastelands dark crystals.
    Of Arven himself none have heard or seen him for over four centuries.
    The chill wind blew in from the north atop the highest tower in the city of Velador the grandmaster Vetor shivered and pulled his cloak about him as he surveyed all that his elderly eyes could see.
    The tall proud walls of the city still held the magnificence they had before the war though with small amounts of damage visible here and there.
    The white city it was called there was a time he thought to himself that this city was the jewel of the world a hub of trade and the intellectual and cultural capitol of the world.
    His heart ached as he thought about all that had been lost.

    Diving into the flow of magic he examined the magical defenses of the city pleased with the strength of the spell he turned to leave.
    However something held him there for awhile it was faint but he could sense it.
    A presence probing the shield above the city searching for a weakness.
    Vetor didn't need magic to know who it was but with the shield in place he didn't need to worry too much.

    In three days time however things would change the day of dark sun would be upon the world and the dark crystals would be imbued with the very essence of magic raw untamed power.
    Vetor had spent the past four centuries preparing his forces for that day it would be a day of blood and death and he wasn't sure if they could win through... they had to win through.

    The scouting party had been tracking them for two days a band of kilith raiders that had sacked a town neighboring Velador.
    The ant like bipedal creatures resembled humans in mannerisms only they were fast armored and dangerous.
    The scouting party weren't bothered by the kilith for they were mages of Velador the three mages scanned the horizon atop their large warhorses their sapphire blue armor glinting in the fading sunlight.
    Fine cloaks billowing in the wind.
    Off in the distance they spotted the kilith the hunt had ended soon they would be dead and the townsfolk avenged thought the lead mage.

    The lead mage took off his full faced helm sighing as the cool wind caressed his handsome young face his strong features and short dark hair earn't him the adoration of more than one of the veladorian ladies.
    delving into the magic he uttered a spell of seeing his dark eyes glowed purple as the spell too effect.


    We ride hard vetor you take the left flank whilst kandar attacks the right I will take out those that face me.
    Yes commander scion they replied in unison both were older than he but during his years at the academy scion had proven himself as the single most powerful mage in the city.
    Most even disputed him as a match for the grandmaster himself though none voiced that aloud.

    The mages were one hundred yards away by now and the kilith with their bed eyesight had only just noticed them they took up arms instantly all moving in unison as if commanded by some powerful conscience.

    Over five hundred kilith stood ready for face the three foolish humans that dare stood against them.
    The riders then did something the kilith didnt expect in unison they leapt from their horses high into the air it was only then that the kilith knew who they faced they famed blue mages of velador some turned to flee other threw spears hoping to hit the airborn mages before death struck them.

    The three mages voices boomed enhanced by magic “ir – cirindar!” they shouted.
    Three blasts of light arced from their staffs.
    Hitting the area where the confused kilith stood.
    The sound was thunderous the entire area was immolated in the matted of a few seconds all that was left of the kilith were burnt husks and the stench of burnt meat.