Hey, first post here. Noticed the game (fun even without major content!), noticed the forums, and subsequently noticed the storywriting forum with some pretty good writing, so I figured I\'d join in, adding a new story in the realm of PlaneShift.
\"Raised For Destruction\"
He stood there, glaring at his mentor, digesting the news for a long period of time, his imposing image being more than enough to send most of his underlings into cowering and redundant bowing. Lord Aernith Magistus knew better than to expect that of this particular being, however: the only being Aernith had known until his coming to power, which was only a mere three years past. The being, calling itself Shade-Xelthar, had no feelings (such as fear) as did all the other races. It did not have any distinguishing features or sex, it was simply a profound blackness, a void seemingly floating in the air. Xelthar did indeed have a shape, or so it said, but so profound and total was the darkness of Shade-Xelthar that no natural eyes could determine where the shapes that it was made up of began or ended.
And yet, Aernith did not fear Xelthar, not at all. He had been raised from his early childhood by the entity, filling his mind with the knowledge obtained over millenia of conquest and suffering. Having long grown used to Xelthar\'s presence, Aernith knew that it posed no real threat to him, or anyone else alive, for it did not have a corporeal form like other beings did. Xelthar existed to pass on knowledge, to shape the world to its preference through manipulation of mortals; it was clear that it was only using Aernith for its own goals--which remain unclear, even to its student--but Aernith\'s ambition lay within Xelthar\'s path, regardless. When Aernith had aged nineteen years, Xelthar had him strike out into the open world, for conquest and power, which he easily found, given his legendary proficiency in all of the magical arts. Aernith had conquered nations using great magical blasts, summoned demons and Xelthar\'s sown seeds of unrest within the nations themselves.
And so the young human had come into power over a fortress, filled with ambitious and greedy nobles, so bent on power that they quickly fell into line behind the mightiest of mages. Xelthar had tought him well.
But it was because of this tremendous success that Aernith was most outraged and shocked by this news of his army\'s return to the fortress, Drakguard, with less than half of the numbers they had left with, bringing tales of a mighty and defensible land where all races stood united against the intruders and driving them back. Had the human army not been strong enough? No, there was no absense of strength and numbers in this mighty army--it had to be problems with leadership, or perhaps cowardice. Yes, cowardice; why else would they have come running back?
Suddenly, a filthy-looking field surgeon burst through the doors of the sacred and private chamber that Aernith Magistus communed with Shade-Xelthar in. \"My lord, we haven\'t enough healing magic to tend to all of the wounded. I beg you for your assistence in our futile healing attempts, so that you might awe us with your magic once more and save our brave warriors!\" wailed the grubby peasant, bowing ridiculously low and clutching at Aernith\'s fine black robes.
\"Let the cowards die,\" the Lord Magistus coldly replied. Without even allowing the shocked medic another word or even a horrified look, Aernith had the man die on the spot, tearing his soul from him so quickly that the man died with his initial expression still pressed into his face. Aernith had no sympathy for cowardice or disobediance, and found it pathetic every time a human would fail and give up, making the failure many times worse than it could have been. Xelthar had the man\'s corpse animated in a matter of moments, adding to Aernith\'s innumerable secret horde.
\"They are evil, and must be annihilated,\" Shade-Xelthar quietly spoke, referring to the races united. Had those words come from anyone else, Aernith would have laughed at the obvious flaws in the entity\'s logic--but he never even took the time to consider that his teacher could be wrong. The teacher was never wrong. The races united must be annihilated.
