Triumdeum: Part 4 of 4

“What in Dwarfhome…” muttered Marthammor.

“How is this possible?” asked Corellon.

Lathander mopped the sweat from his brow with a tremulous hand. “I don’t know. That’s what frightens me.” Continue reading

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Triumdeum: Part 3 of 4

“Indeed I shall, Larethian.” With a great effort, Lathander pulled himself to his feet and led the others, Corellon gracefully and Marthammor stubbornly, to the midst of the garden grotto where he lowered himself, wincing, onto a low bench before a broad and clear pool.

“Ao’s decree,” he began, “makes us guardians who were once kings. In either case, whether you see before you an avenger or a usurper, you may trust that I desire the preservation of Toril. I would see the world saved before my own life, for there seems no hope of the latter, and little enough of the former.”  Continue reading

Triumdeum: Part 2 of 4

His cheeks were gaunt, and his formerly radiant countenance had darkened, reduced nearly to that of a mortal man. Still, his brow was resolute, and his eyes, Corellon noted, were not those of a defeated god. The elf-deity moved as though to steady Lathander, but was waved off by a gesture.

Marthammor cursed under his breath. “It seems dusk has fallen on the Morninglord. There are some who believe you dead.”  Continue reading

Triumdeum: Part 1 of 4

High above the tallest mountains of Toril, beyond the firmament of its lofty skies and rarefied airs; transcending the transitive Ether, the wild beauty of the Fey, and the Elemental chaos of the Inner Planes; established on high in the Astral Dominion, and drifting in the endless Astral Sea — stands the perfectly infinite and infinitely perfect Mount Celestia. Continue reading