The Mage's Tale
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Chance was not easy about returning to Nessum's tomb; neither the walk nor the certain problems when he arrived. His mood worsened as he neared the tomb mount. He picked a place to wait for dark. Chance did not really care a fart for the emeralds or for their sacred status among Sleps. He reflected that were their teeth not so big, he would just turn around and leave. Chance had enemies already so what was a few more? His irritation and annoyance increased as a full moon rose. Chance left his hiding place and approached the palace.	In the moonlight, the palace was very quiet. It was ripped open in places and scorched by red magic in others. A distance from it, the woods glowed from a large fire. Chanting red mages marched ritually in circles about it. Chance glanced at them with a scowl and then turned his attention back to the palace. He crept to the chimney hole and looked down. The temple was scoured by magic and badly damaged. He saw the Perfect One stretched out as it had fallen. The idol was whole and appeared little affected by battle magic. The smell of burned and rotting flesh drifted up the chimney making Chance nauseous.


The Slep Temple
Moonlight lit the pedestal. In its center, a shallow cup had been hollowed. Shards of the Reading Opalopal lay there. Sunlight through the chimney hole had caused some pieces to turn white and opaque. Chance lowered himself down the chimney and dropped onto the pedestal. There was no sound except the chanting of the red mages. The amber around Chance's neck began to twitch. He felt an insistent thought that he should lower the amber into the hollow. Carefully he removed it and set it on the pieces of the opal. The amber appeared to melt around the shards and absorb them. When only the amber remained, Chance picked it up and returned it to his neck chain. Then, remembering how Nalo had died, he placed the amber in a pocket inside his belt. Chance climbed down and stood at the head of the idol. He whispered a strengthening spell and lifted it carefully. He did not look at the body of the priest. Once he had it upright, he edged it back onto the pedestal. Then he remembered he had the emeralds in his pocket and the eyes were now beyond his reach. He wanted them out of his hands as soon as possible. With a shrug, he spelled them up and into place. Done, he sighed, and quietly went out into the passage. He did not look back.

The Slep Temple

Moonlight lit the pedestal. In its center, a shallow cup had been hollowed. Shards of the Reading Opalopal lay there. Sunlight through the chimney hole had caused some pieces to turn white and opaque.

Chance lowered himself down the chimney and dropped onto the pedestal. There was no sound except the chanting of the red mages.

The amber around Chance's neck began to twitch. He felt an insistent thought that he should lower the amber into the hollow. Carefully he removed it and set it on the pieces of the opal. The amber appeared to melt around the shards and absorb them.

When only the amber remained, Chance picked it up and returned it to his neck chain. Then, remembering how Nalo had died, he placed the amber in a pocket inside his belt.

Chance climbed down and stood at the head of the idol. He whispered a strengthening spell and lifted it carefully. He did not look at the body of the priest. Once he had it upright, he edged it back onto the pedestal. Then he remembered he had the emeralds in his pocket and the eyes were now beyond his reach.

He wanted them out of his hands as soon as possible. With a shrug, he spelled them up and into place. Done, he sighed, and quietly went out into the passage. He did not look back.


God-Mage
As he walked into the palace, he stepped over red mage bodies. The opal or the house had killed them, he concluded. Chance guessed that the opal had tapped the deep earth magic released by the pedestal. Even so, their numbers alone he thougt. Gradually they overcame it forcing it back into the temple. There, they must have seized and shattered it. Which would explain, continued Chance to himself, why they were dancing around their dragon fire down the hill. They had been victorious over the power of the opal. They were celebrating their power. Chance wanted no part of them so cautiously stepped out of the main entrance into the shadows. To his surprise, an armoured figure approached to stand immediately before him; it was Zoot.

"All hail Chance, Magic Master!" She whispered. Chance stepped back from her. She came closer, "You have always broken the Law; you are destined for greatness! Others will tremble before you. Are you justly proud in being the strongest mage alive?" Chance could only stare at her and said nothing. "Come with me back to Oosra; we shall rule all."	Chance shook his head. He tried to walk away but Zoot persisted. He told her, "I do not want power, Zoot. I want only to leave this place." Zoot laughed softly, "Power is yours, god-mage, wanted or no." Chance and Zoot were startled by a shout: *"Die Soul-Eaters!"*


Red Mages
A red mage jumped out of bushes close by and ran toward them. He raised a broad sword which flamed with a dark red glow. A spell for defense appeared before Chance's face from the amber. He had only time to read and say it before the sword swung. Chance watched as the sword cut through Zoot's neck and then clanged against his spell. Zoot's head toppled to the ground; her body and the sword fell at Chance's feet. Chance lost his temper. From within him, a rage emerged. His magic surged.

He palmed a thick beam of death magic directly into the red mage's face - not an arm's width from him. He exploded away from Chance in a splash of cloth, flesh, and blood. More red mages emerged from the bushes. His rage welcomed them; His hand itched for a sword. Chance picked up the sword on the ground that had beheaded Zoot.	He snarled at them, "Run and live or fight and die." He could see the drugs in their eyes as they hesitated. Something inside Chance hoped they would fight. Then one of them called out, "Brothers, I feel the spirit of the Red Dragon in me; I am Chosen!" They paused then all charged at Chance.


Afterward, Chance dragged their bodies to where they were camped and threw them onto the fire. He did not stay to watch them burn. He touched nothing else; he considered them and their things unclean. He left Zoot to nature. His rage spent, he trudged back toward Oosra, weary of greed, disgusted by cults, and sick of his part in death. He went directly to the docks and paid dearly for a place on the message boat to Beerron. The air on the sea as they crossed was fresh and cool. Chance felt better and rested.
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Afterward, Chance dragged their bodies to where they were camped and threw them onto the fire. He did not stay to watch them burn. He touched nothing else; he considered them and their things unclean. He left Zoot to nature.

His rage spent, he trudged back toward Oosra, weary of greed, disgusted by cults, and sick of his part in death. He went directly to the docks and paid dearly for a place on the message boat to Beerron. The air on the sea as they crossed was fresh and cool. Chance felt better and rested.

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The Mage's Tale Power

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The Mage's Tale
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