Sunday, 8 July 2012
The will of the Gods part 1
“A dank, pervasive miasma filled the air, threatening to quench the dying flames of resolve left within the unfortunate lot who resided in the courtroom. Three hours had passed, yet the volley of thinly veiled insults and half disguised threats between the accusatory Illusionaries and the defending Magi of fate continued with no end in sight. “Enough!” cried Thom, “Those glorified cultists, broke the agreed upon pact!” the source of this outburst, the most senior of the silver robed Illusionaries’ half dozen, was a bespectacled man of advanced years, with a terrible fondness for frequently caressing his wispy waist length beard, “Decider, is it not plain to all that this farce has continued for far too long? Use your judgement and punish these heathens!” a murmur of disquiet emanated from the Magi opposite but before it ignited the flames of a further three our discussion, I intervened.
Apostle of Judgement, at least that’s what I am meant to be. Mine is a revered position, thrust upon me by the governors of hope, tasked with deciding the fates of men brought before the small courts. My faith is no different to any other, my prayers to the three primes and six lesser for guidance and protection from the three evils is completely normal. Yet here I sit. A wooden throne of aged timber to elevate me, my mediocrity acts as a lacklustre beacon for the ignorant, I find myself encircled by the throng of the bored, bemused and otherwise bothersome onlookers below and encased within this windowless coffin of this dilapidated courtroom. The very anti-magic runes engraved upon the walls to supposedly protect my hallowed position had long since lost their illuminations and were slowly fading, much like my interest in this case.
“Silence!”, I announced, the sudden lack of clamour seemed odd considering the order emanated from my small frame, the slightly thinning tuft of brown hair, wholly unbefitting someone in their mid twenties, did not help improve my timid aura, nonetheless, all eyes were now on me. “I’ve heard more than enough of you all today and I’ve made my decision after careful examination of the facts”, another expertly crafted lie of mine, were it not for the punishment I’d face for desertion of my ‘holy duty’, I’d have called this kangaroo court to an end long ago, “I’ve heard charges against the Magi of fate, and have found the evidence lacking to state they have broken the pact of the Gods”, with this statement, a burst of light crackled through the air, splintering the mid-section of my seat, sending a sudden surge of energy outwards that sprung the seemingly dormant crowd into a frenzied panic. “No! Aeya, goddess of illusion will not stand for this!”, shouted Thom indignantly, his five younger followers clamouring to their feet around him, “Your judgment defiles the very name...”, “Oh will you please shut up”, called a red-robed man of the Magi, emboldened by the wall of hapless onlookers between Thom and himself and with a flail of his arms, an eerie red goo leapt forth, arcing from his palms towards the silver group.”
A magical joke to top things off
Q: What did the prince say after the witch turned him into a frog?
A: Ribbet! Ribbet!