Hjolnai

The door opens, and a tall staff-bearing man enters nervously. "er... Is this the room for the meeting of nameless mad wanderers who keep getting lost?" Someone speaks out from the shadows of the room. "No, this is the meeting for Lurkers Anonymous. To get where you want to go, go right from this door, take the second left corridor, and the first green door on the right." "Right, so that's... go straight ahead from this door, up the purple stairs to the right, then into the glowing portal?" "Yes, that's right." A few minutes later, the same man enters again. This time, he says, "Oh, I just realized. I probably belong in here too. I have a tendency to lurk in between wandering off and getting lost." He conjures a chair, and sits on it. He then falls straight through the chair, stands up again, and says, "Bah, I must remember that that spell is in the Illusion school, not conjuration." He takes a different seat (completely forgetting to banish the illusionary chair), and sighs, because the chair he has chosen now is far too short; his knees rise comically from the low seat. Only now he's sitting down is it obvious to observers exactly how ridiculously tall and thin he is.

The foul monstrosities of Science continue to roll forward over the red, bloodstained ground. All our warriors are already dead, and the enemy sends the last of their noisy steel carts towards our exhausted mages. Next to me, yet another friend falls to the ground, blasted by the Science-fireball which his wavering shields could not stop. The last mage standing beside me throws the last of his life force into a Lightning Bolt spell, and takes the "Tank" with him. It is then that I realise - the battlefield is empty. I am the last living being on this desolate red plain. I remember what has brought me to this; when first I came to learn magic, I was seen as a skilled student; soon, my talent was well-recognised. I went from talented to brilliant, brilliant to prodigy. I was the youngest ever to leave the school of thaumaturgy, even considering the recent rush caused by the war. I left taking every single award of the year with me. Then I joined the war-force to stop the unintended destruction caused by the followers of Science. It occurs to me that this is where I went wrong. I could have saved countless lives by healing or shielding, but instead I chose destruction, my greatest skill... and my greatest evil. I see now that the war has caused more devastation already than the followers of Science would in a century. This dead place of Hell is the embodiment of that stupidity. I have wrought such devastation, destroyed hundreds of machines, killed thousands with my might, blasts so strong they shook the Earth... but I achieved nothing save evil, death and suffering. Now is the time for change. In recompense for the evil I wrought in my pride, I will use my talent now to stop this senseless war. I will change the world, as they always said I would. The time has come to reclaim my shattered soul, and end the mindless destruction! I return, a year later, to this scrap of parchment, and in reading what I wrote, I feel pride at what I have now done. The war has ended, and no one suffers that evil. The Mages have returned to their libraries, the Inventors their laboratories, and now the knowledge all seek is shared. The Science-followers now respect this world, and find alternatives for their poisoning of the world. Dark spells and forbidden technology are both a thing of the past. As for me, my role now is to keep the politics stable, and to work on the merging of both arts. (Oh, and by the way, I don't intend to use this character all the time. His story rather seems to have been told already)