It has been a thousand years since the once powerful
planet of Blessing lost its life-giving two suns, and
countless millennia since the days of the great
magicians. An expedition of alien voyagers came upon
the now ice-covered sphere, drawn there by an
unexplained lone beacon far below the miles of frozen
moisture, they unlocked a written history of Blessing
from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the story
of Magica.
It was a time of celebration. The Book of Magica and
the wizards who had used its spells so wisely for the
good of the people were being honored in all the great
cities of the world. There was however an exception.
Where good thrives, evil survives and evil has plans
for survival.
The celebration of thanks and prosperity would signal
the forces of Evilsyde to begin the attack and
ultimate capture and destruction of Magica. The spells
from the Book would be used to turn all of those
unwilling to join Evilsyde into statues of stone and
send their spirits to Otherworld, where they would
eventually be a**imilated into the energy needed to
drive Evilsyde, and maintain its power without the
necessity of the Book and its incantations forever.
Defenses were naturally relaxed during the festive
preparations and although the battle was well-fought
by both factions, the minions of the dark prevailed.
Their a**ault was well-planned and executed to a
fault. After overwhelming their initial opposition,
they pushed on to the sacred ground upon which the
Book of Magica rested. They possessed a much weaker
form of magic themselves, and although it would be
normally quite useless against the strength of Magica,
the inability of the Wizards to gather themselves
together in time, coupled with the perfect timing and
determination of the attackers, spelled doom for the
Book and its followers.
The leader of the insurrection was the high priest and
executioner known as Shadowcast. His presence could
make the naughtiest of children become obedient and
inspire great fear among the adult population. This
man, most vile, would now be ruler of all and
answerable to none. His reign would plunge Blessing
into eternal darkness and prepare the way for the
coming of his master, Astoroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.
The capture of Magica did not, however, mean that
Shadowcast had finally reached his goal. He must now
find and conquer Blessing's Grand Wizard and legendary
hero, Eriel. Eriel, who defeated Evilsyde time and
again with his understanding and use of Magica's
spells. He would be the last stumbling block of total
domination.
Eriel had removed himself from the general population
in anticipation of everlasting peace and now he
devoted all of his energy to meditation and praise of
his God. Lately though, he had been visited by many
temptations in his dreams. Promises of pleasure,
riches and power raced through his sleeping mind. All
these lures had been placed there by Shadowcast,
hoping to avoid confrontation between this dominant
man and his own villainous forces. Eriel however had
resisted these solicitations and was now warned of
some impending danger. He managed to make his way to
the sacred ground by cloaking his identity with simple
spells, only to be discovered just before his attempt
to rescue the Book of Magica, but not before he was
able to memorize the most important of Magica's
charms, The spell of Restoration.
The ceremony of thanksgiving was now directed toward
the transmission of spirits to Otherworld. One by one
the good souls of Blessing were turned to stone and
sent on to their grisly fate, until only the noble
Eriel remained. The spectacle that followed was meant
to degrade Eriel and raise the courage of the cowardly
supplicants of Evilsyde, but true to his
indominantable bearing, he promised to return and
banish Evilsyde forever. Then he was gone.
The horrors of Otherworld are now revealed to the
masses huddled together for some small measure of
comfort. First the adults were separated from their
children amid cries and pleas for help. Next the old
ones were taken away and a**igned to a place very near
the a**imilation site. They were guarded by monstrous,
misshapen denizens of this shrouded netherland, who
constantly harangued the inmates with promises of pain
and extermination. Intermittent bursts of flame shot
up from jagged cracks in the ground, threatening to
consume anyone in its path. Shrieks of torment could
be heard piercing the murky atmosphere, further
unnerving the petrified captives. Only one seemed
unaffected by all the inflicted fear and turmoil.
Eriel's strength and determination soon pacified the
men and women with whom he was confined. When they all
became more calm and subdued, he began to speak to
them softly as an adult to his children. "Long ago you
entrusted me to protect the Book of Magica and to be
faithful to its special purpose. It must seem that I
have failed you and condemned us all to oblivion, but
fear not! This hell is only a test of your faith and
resolve. The power of Magica did not vanish in fire.
On the third day I will evoke the spell of
Restoration. United we shall return to Blessing and,
armed with the strength of Magica, we will be
triumphant. Many will perish, but Magica and our souls
cannot be restored until three days have passed. Take
heart my friends. Victory awaits you."
Even magic has its limitations and as Eriel explained
to his flock, the spell could not be activated until a
waiting period of at least three days. One third of
the souls of Blessing would be melded into the
Evilsyde collective before Eriel could be effective
with the words of Restoration.
The old ones were the first to go. Cries of
encouragement and hope were shouted to the condemned
as they trudged slowly to their fate. One by one they
were thrown into the a**imilation chamber where a
blinding blue spark gave evidence of their demise.
With each burst Eriel's heavy heart ached with guilt
for his part in this slaughter of his charges. If only
he had not become so complacent. He above
all should never have let this tragedy transpire.
In the compound holding the young adults, an
insurrection of sorts was occurring. A boy of
seventeen years called Challis was urging an uprising
among his captured companions. Futile though it was,
it earned Challis a place in the cell adjoining
Eriel's. His rantings and ravings were soon quelled by
Eriel's quiet urging and the two settled into serious
conversation. Eriel knew his time of a**imilation was
near and only hoped it would not be scheduled before
the three day waiting period for Restoration was
ended. Shadowcast wanted to personally oversee Eriel's
termination but couldn't abandon his duties on Blessing
until all was secure.Would there be enough time?
Eriel realized some of his own strong qualities in
Challis and decided that this was an opportunity not
to be lost. He instructed Challis to remove all anger
from his mind and hate from his heart. Only the pure
could receive and transmit this most important of
spells. Convinced that this young man was ready, he
joined with his spirit and gave him these words.
"Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna," Words that would
resurrect the masses if delivered correctly and in time.
Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready
for travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate.
His journey through Otherworld was marked by what
could pass for cheers, if they weren't shouted from
the mouths of utterly inhuman shapes and forms. Upon
his arrival he instructed the guards to take him
straight to Eriel. Once there he announced with great
satisfaction that he would personally supervise
Eriel's execution in a matter of hours. Nearby,
Challis loudly voiced his objection to this treatment
of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and
punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel's heart
sank. Had he misjudged Challis and entrusted his
people's future to a reckless youth? Eriel's mind
wandered to his own younger days. He too had been
restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these
traits and become the adored leader of Blessing. He
wondered if Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel
himself had turned his back on the beautiful and
innocent Annica. She was his intended from birth, but
he couldn't let love for this saintly child cloud his
duties to Blessing and the Book.
One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel's
hopes were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once
again. But as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde's
dark leader. Eriel was led away with head held high,
but as he passed Challis he gave just the slightest
nod. A gesture that wasn't lost on the youth. Eriel
was then taken to the a**imilation chamber and
strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of
the room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of
resurrection or destruction. Shadowcast walked to
Eriel, presumably to gloat one last time to his old
nemesis. Eriel welcomed the time that would be wasted,
but at the last moment Shadowcast seemed to reconsider
and raised his arm in signal for the end to begin. The
arm dropped and, with crackle and hiss, Eriel was no
more. Shadowcast and his minions erupted with joy.
Never again to be slaves. Now to be masters.
Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had
passed without time to summon the spell. Now only he
could influence the future. He heard the rattling of
armor and realized they were coming for him. Soon the
guards appeared and dragged the struggling Challis
from his confinement. One of his jailers struck him a
mighty blow across the face and suddenly all his anger
left him. He was sure of what he must do. Thunder
starts from silence and he would be thunder.
Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the
cross. Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had
any last thing to say before a**imilation. Challis
smiled and said he did. Then with an evil laugh,
Shadowcast raised his arm and announced that his
question was only a final killing joke. It was now or
never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted out
the spell: "Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna" and all
hell actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk
of Blessing were bathed in an incredible rush of
light. Shadowcast and all his wicked throng writhed in
agony in the darkness they were spawned from, as the
fierce illumination sought them out and consumed each
troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting frenzy.
Shadowcast, hiding in the last black s***e to be
found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward
him. At the last moment he cloaked his body with his
unpriestly robe and muttered what sounded like an oath
as the light touched the cloth. The robe erupted into
flame and then there was nothing. Surely Shadowcast
was also consumed by fire! But that tale would not yet
be told. Now as each remaining citizen of Blessing was
transported instantly back to their home, they found
themselves standing among thousands of recognizable
stone statues. These monuments represented their
fallen comrades and would ever be a lasting testament
to the dangers of evil and the power of Magica.
Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres
brightened the night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow
could be heard across the land long after the flames
had sputtered and died. When the prolonged periods of
grieving had ended, the citizens and their council
directed attention to the task of anointing a new
leader and protector of the restored Book of Magica.
The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had
resurrected the populace and the Book, but many
questioned his youth and inexperience.
The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached.
The candidates were summoned to the sacred
place. Eloquent speeches were made on behalf of them
all. Only Challis lacked a champion and it seemed
certain that he would be passed over. "Will anyone
speak for the boy?" asked the council. The question
was greeted by silence as the judges turned away to
cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A
handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with
traces of gray, spoke: "Challis must be chosen. This
is the secret I have carried with me for all these
years. Although I was once rebuffed by my only true
love, Eriel, our brief union produced the young man
standing before you. Eriel was never to know that he
had sired this free spirit, but he will live on
through his son's achievements if you now find him
worthy." So spoke Annica, mother of Challis.
The decision was now reached quickly. Annica's
revelation left little doubt in the minds of the
councillors that Challis should indeed succeed his
father. Evilsyde had been defeated, Shadowcast was
hopefully destroyed, Challis had been chosen to lead
his people and, despite the huge number of casualties,
the old way of life began again. But, evil does not
easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist
in his attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing.
Great battles would be fought. Brave heroes would rise
to the occasion and legends were created. There was,
of course, the unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when
Challis..... Ah! But that's another story!
planet of Blessing lost its life-giving two suns, and
countless millennia since the days of the great
magicians. An expedition of alien voyagers came upon
the now ice-covered sphere, drawn there by an
unexplained lone beacon far below the miles of frozen
moisture, they unlocked a written history of Blessing
from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the story
of Magica.
It was a time of celebration. The Book of Magica and
the wizards who had used its spells so wisely for the
good of the people were being honored in all the great
cities of the world. There was however an exception.
Where good thrives, evil survives and evil has plans
for survival.
The celebration of thanks and prosperity would signal
the forces of Evilsyde to begin the attack and
ultimate capture and destruction of Magica. The spells
from the Book would be used to turn all of those
unwilling to join Evilsyde into statues of stone and
send their spirits to Otherworld, where they would
eventually be a**imilated into the energy needed to
drive Evilsyde, and maintain its power without the
necessity of the Book and its incantations forever.
Defenses were naturally relaxed during the festive
preparations and although the battle was well-fought
by both factions, the minions of the dark prevailed.
Their a**ault was well-planned and executed to a
fault. After overwhelming their initial opposition,
they pushed on to the sacred ground upon which the
Book of Magica rested. They possessed a much weaker
form of magic themselves, and although it would be
normally quite useless against the strength of Magica,
the inability of the Wizards to gather themselves
together in time, coupled with the perfect timing and
determination of the attackers, spelled doom for the
Book and its followers.
The leader of the insurrection was the high priest and
executioner known as Shadowcast. His presence could
make the naughtiest of children become obedient and
inspire great fear among the adult population. This
man, most vile, would now be ruler of all and
answerable to none. His reign would plunge Blessing
into eternal darkness and prepare the way for the
coming of his master, Astoroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.
The capture of Magica did not, however, mean that
Shadowcast had finally reached his goal. He must now
find and conquer Blessing's Grand Wizard and legendary
hero, Eriel. Eriel, who defeated Evilsyde time and
again with his understanding and use of Magica's
spells. He would be the last stumbling block of total
domination.
Eriel had removed himself from the general population
in anticipation of everlasting peace and now he
devoted all of his energy to meditation and praise of
his God. Lately though, he had been visited by many
temptations in his dreams. Promises of pleasure,
riches and power raced through his sleeping mind. All
these lures had been placed there by Shadowcast,
hoping to avoid confrontation between this dominant
man and his own villainous forces. Eriel however had
resisted these solicitations and was now warned of
some impending danger. He managed to make his way to
the sacred ground by cloaking his identity with simple
spells, only to be discovered just before his attempt
to rescue the Book of Magica, but not before he was
able to memorize the most important of Magica's
charms, The spell of Restoration.
The ceremony of thanksgiving was now directed toward
the transmission of spirits to Otherworld. One by one
the good souls of Blessing were turned to stone and
sent on to their grisly fate, until only the noble
Eriel remained. The spectacle that followed was meant
to degrade Eriel and raise the courage of the cowardly
supplicants of Evilsyde, but true to his
indominantable bearing, he promised to return and
banish Evilsyde forever. Then he was gone.
The horrors of Otherworld are now revealed to the
masses huddled together for some small measure of
comfort. First the adults were separated from their
children amid cries and pleas for help. Next the old
ones were taken away and a**igned to a place very near
the a**imilation site. They were guarded by monstrous,
misshapen denizens of this shrouded netherland, who
constantly harangued the inmates with promises of pain
and extermination. Intermittent bursts of flame shot
up from jagged cracks in the ground, threatening to
consume anyone in its path. Shrieks of torment could
be heard piercing the murky atmosphere, further
unnerving the petrified captives. Only one seemed
unaffected by all the inflicted fear and turmoil.
Eriel's strength and determination soon pacified the
men and women with whom he was confined. When they all
became more calm and subdued, he began to speak to
them softly as an adult to his children. "Long ago you
entrusted me to protect the Book of Magica and to be
faithful to its special purpose. It must seem that I
have failed you and condemned us all to oblivion, but
fear not! This hell is only a test of your faith and
resolve. The power of Magica did not vanish in fire.
On the third day I will evoke the spell of
Restoration. United we shall return to Blessing and,
armed with the strength of Magica, we will be
triumphant. Many will perish, but Magica and our souls
cannot be restored until three days have passed. Take
heart my friends. Victory awaits you."
Even magic has its limitations and as Eriel explained
to his flock, the spell could not be activated until a
waiting period of at least three days. One third of
the souls of Blessing would be melded into the
Evilsyde collective before Eriel could be effective
with the words of Restoration.
The old ones were the first to go. Cries of
encouragement and hope were shouted to the condemned
as they trudged slowly to their fate. One by one they
were thrown into the a**imilation chamber where a
blinding blue spark gave evidence of their demise.
With each burst Eriel's heavy heart ached with guilt
for his part in this slaughter of his charges. If only
he had not become so complacent. He above
all should never have let this tragedy transpire.
In the compound holding the young adults, an
insurrection of sorts was occurring. A boy of
seventeen years called Challis was urging an uprising
among his captured companions. Futile though it was,
it earned Challis a place in the cell adjoining
Eriel's. His rantings and ravings were soon quelled by
Eriel's quiet urging and the two settled into serious
conversation. Eriel knew his time of a**imilation was
near and only hoped it would not be scheduled before
the three day waiting period for Restoration was
ended. Shadowcast wanted to personally oversee Eriel's
termination but couldn't abandon his duties on Blessing
until all was secure.Would there be enough time?
Eriel realized some of his own strong qualities in
Challis and decided that this was an opportunity not
to be lost. He instructed Challis to remove all anger
from his mind and hate from his heart. Only the pure
could receive and transmit this most important of
spells. Convinced that this young man was ready, he
joined with his spirit and gave him these words.
"Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna," Words that would
resurrect the masses if delivered correctly and in time.
Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready
for travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate.
His journey through Otherworld was marked by what
could pass for cheers, if they weren't shouted from
the mouths of utterly inhuman shapes and forms. Upon
his arrival he instructed the guards to take him
straight to Eriel. Once there he announced with great
satisfaction that he would personally supervise
Eriel's execution in a matter of hours. Nearby,
Challis loudly voiced his objection to this treatment
of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and
punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel's heart
sank. Had he misjudged Challis and entrusted his
people's future to a reckless youth? Eriel's mind
wandered to his own younger days. He too had been
restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these
traits and become the adored leader of Blessing. He
wondered if Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel
himself had turned his back on the beautiful and
innocent Annica. She was his intended from birth, but
he couldn't let love for this saintly child cloud his
duties to Blessing and the Book.
One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel's
hopes were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once
again. But as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde's
dark leader. Eriel was led away with head held high,
but as he passed Challis he gave just the slightest
nod. A gesture that wasn't lost on the youth. Eriel
was then taken to the a**imilation chamber and
strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of
the room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of
resurrection or destruction. Shadowcast walked to
Eriel, presumably to gloat one last time to his old
nemesis. Eriel welcomed the time that would be wasted,
but at the last moment Shadowcast seemed to reconsider
and raised his arm in signal for the end to begin. The
arm dropped and, with crackle and hiss, Eriel was no
more. Shadowcast and his minions erupted with joy.
Never again to be slaves. Now to be masters.
Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had
passed without time to summon the spell. Now only he
could influence the future. He heard the rattling of
armor and realized they were coming for him. Soon the
guards appeared and dragged the struggling Challis
from his confinement. One of his jailers struck him a
mighty blow across the face and suddenly all his anger
left him. He was sure of what he must do. Thunder
starts from silence and he would be thunder.
Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the
cross. Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had
any last thing to say before a**imilation. Challis
smiled and said he did. Then with an evil laugh,
Shadowcast raised his arm and announced that his
question was only a final killing joke. It was now or
never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted out
the spell: "Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna" and all
hell actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk
of Blessing were bathed in an incredible rush of
light. Shadowcast and all his wicked throng writhed in
agony in the darkness they were spawned from, as the
fierce illumination sought them out and consumed each
troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting frenzy.
Shadowcast, hiding in the last black s***e to be
found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward
him. At the last moment he cloaked his body with his
unpriestly robe and muttered what sounded like an oath
as the light touched the cloth. The robe erupted into
flame and then there was nothing. Surely Shadowcast
was also consumed by fire! But that tale would not yet
be told. Now as each remaining citizen of Blessing was
transported instantly back to their home, they found
themselves standing among thousands of recognizable
stone statues. These monuments represented their
fallen comrades and would ever be a lasting testament
to the dangers of evil and the power of Magica.
Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres
brightened the night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow
could be heard across the land long after the flames
had sputtered and died. When the prolonged periods of
grieving had ended, the citizens and their council
directed attention to the task of anointing a new
leader and protector of the restored Book of Magica.
The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had
resurrected the populace and the Book, but many
questioned his youth and inexperience.
The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached.
The candidates were summoned to the sacred
place. Eloquent speeches were made on behalf of them
all. Only Challis lacked a champion and it seemed
certain that he would be passed over. "Will anyone
speak for the boy?" asked the council. The question
was greeted by silence as the judges turned away to
cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A
handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with
traces of gray, spoke: "Challis must be chosen. This
is the secret I have carried with me for all these
years. Although I was once rebuffed by my only true
love, Eriel, our brief union produced the young man
standing before you. Eriel was never to know that he
had sired this free spirit, but he will live on
through his son's achievements if you now find him
worthy." So spoke Annica, mother of Challis.
The decision was now reached quickly. Annica's
revelation left little doubt in the minds of the
councillors that Challis should indeed succeed his
father. Evilsyde had been defeated, Shadowcast was
hopefully destroyed, Challis had been chosen to lead
his people and, despite the huge number of casualties,
the old way of life began again. But, evil does not
easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist
in his attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing.
Great battles would be fought. Brave heroes would rise
to the occasion and legends were created. There was,
of course, the unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when
Challis..... Ah! But that's another story!