Here begins the Third Disk of Andaria, in which is told of the Magi.
Of Ages fashioned in dreams and hopes,
Of the affairs of mortal and god alike,
Of the passing of time and the records thereof,
This shall be my song.
Magic and sorcerery was not understood. Those who were found to practice,
were thrown into a slavery of which the brutality was unspeakable.
In the time of the begining, the time of great torment, the time of sorrow, the time of hatred,
the time of freedom lost, the time of hunger, the time of Erasmus the Fell.
Those gathered unto the great ships of Erasmus were amung the few brave enough,
to practice their art to the extent of being found out. There were,
however, no coligues for them to conspire with to further their arts.
They were weak and unpracticed aside from parlor magic.
In times to come mortalkind found that their magic was weak,
For Shamen could not unlock the secrets of protection from the elements,
The Sorcerers had no way to heal their wounds and could not survive their battles,
And though the Wizards could ready wands and staves for enchantment,
They had no spells to place within their magic instruments.
And as Kali had bound together the Elementals to bring her creation,
The mages of the realm gathered together and sought to bind their own powers.
They gathered in Moorgate at a large house of one of their number,
Working day and night they studied their scrolls and spell books,
But in vain did they seek to unlock the secrets of magic.
From that house came bolts of fire and strange and fantastic odours.
Afraid at these happenings, the citizens of Moorgate grew aghast.
And like many that do not understand, their fear turned to hatred.
Convening their elders they sought to throw out the mages from their city.
Fearing the loss of their work, the magi sought to fight and defend their stronghold,
But one amongst them spoke out to the high council of mages,
Her name Syrania, she was a mage renowned for her skill with dragons.
Knowing that the people of Moorgate relied on the seas for their trade,
She suggested the Magi construct a Lighthouse to guide the ships into port.
The high council saw the wisdom of Syrania's suggestion,
Seeking out the largest crystal from the Dwarven mines,
The mightiest twelve gathered and combined their powers,
A spell of continual light they cast upon the rock,
And mounting it high upon a tower, they presented their gift to Moorgate.
Awe-struck by the gleaming light that shone bright even in the brightest day,
The citizens were appeased and sought now to aid the Magi.
Land was found in the city, to build them a place more suited.
And the Magi forged their guild from magic and rock,
So that it might bind their forces of magic within.
These matters behind them, the studies of the magi bore fruit,
Studying the spells of the Sorcerers, the Shamen recast their spells
And found the knowledge of the elements they needed to create protection.
The Sorcerers in turn studied the arts of healing from the Shamen,
And from this they fashioned the soul leech spell to reverse its affects.
Wizards shared their wands and staves with Shamen and Sorcerer,
And the magestaff was forged containing a myriad of spells.
And when their work was done, the magi stayed within their guild.
Their accumulated wisdom stored for others to learn.
Recognising also they could never fully undo the curse of Valtera,
And that magic would always be split threefold,
They continued to study together, for in their diversity lay the key to the magic.
And thus was born the Guild of Mages of Moorgate.
Alley back to the library foyer.
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