Mystra's Doom

Narrated Account of the Death of Mystra -  Circa 1989

 

Doug(DM) – Ajeroth – Fighter/ Mage

Don – T'ycel – Druid

Jim – Fafhrd – Barbarian

Steve - The Grey Mouser

Cyric - Thief NPC

Adon - Priest NPC

Kelemvor - Warrior NPC

Midnight - Wizard NPC

 

Mystra has been freed from the magic draining creature, the Hakeashar, and has merged with her Avatar, Caitlin Moonsong - The young girl who started the heroes down this path to adventure.

  

 

Caitlan approaches you. She seems somehow taller. Her short blond hair moves about as if with a life of its own. She is graceful, and her black robes shimmer with tiny winks and sparkles of ever-shifting light— - a gleam that is mirrored in her eyes. She makes no sound as she comes, and her feet do not seem to touch the ground, but float inches above it. She smiles.
“

"You have my thanks,”" she says, “"and that is no small thing— - for though you know me as Caitlan, I am known to most as Mystra."” She approaches Midnight, and extends a hand, smiling.
“

"Sister,"” she says softly, "“I must now ask for the return of that which I entrusted to you, some little time ago. May I now have it back?”"

 

Caitlan, having revealed herself as Mystra, the (Lawful Neutral) Goddess of Magic, worshipped by wizards across the Realms, asks Midnight for the return of her pendant.

 

When Mystra touches the pendant, it glows brightly, blue-white, and both the hand she touches it with and her eyes will glow blue-white in answer. In triumph Mystra raises the pendant high, and
exerts her will in silence to open a gate into a place of purple, roiling mists and shifting darkness.

 

Mystra then smiles and beckons the PCs toward the gleaming opening.

 

“"Watch!,"” she says. “"Pay heed, if you would see beauty and greatness the likes of which your eyes will never see again! See what you have wrought, and learn of the true nature of all that is! My power will keep you quite safe...behold!”"

 

All around is darkness— - a deep, chiming void of blackness, lit by faintly luminescent purple mists,
which roil and drift aimlesly about, and by drifting, winking lights. There strides Mystra, grown somehow taller. She glows with a blue-white aura, and walks confidently forward, treading on nothing, toward a yellow glowing light in the distance. Gradually the glowing light in the distance grows larger.

 

You can see that the golden glow surrounds a man-like figure clad in full plate armor. His visor is down, and his armor glows with a blue sheen; the glow around him brightens from gold to white as you draw near Mystra stands perhaps 12 feet in height now, the figure in armor perhaps 20.
“

"Mystra,"” he says suddenly, his voice deep and rolling, “"You come not alone. Have you then the Tablets?”"

“"No,"” Mystra replies, “"but I see no need for them. I know who stole them and I wish to speak to Lord Ao. Let me pass.”"

 

The figure in armor remains unmoving. “"That was not what was decreed,"” he says, almost gently.
“"Without the Tablets, I cannot let you pass. Go back, and gain the Tablets. Advance, cloaked in pride, at your peril. I will not abandon my duty.”"

“"Duty?,”" Mystra demands, angrily. "“I have no duty— - and you have a most strange way of following yours. The Tablets themselves are nothing to me. Stand aside, and let me pass!”"

“"Nay,”" the figure answers. "“I will not. Turn back, for the sake of your safety— - and that of these mortals you have brought to witness. Ill done, that. Work no greater ill, Mystra, for I would not harm you, if you leave me a choice.”"

“"Choice?,"” Mystra replies. “"You leave me none! If I must prove my worth to regain my rightful place, I will! Stand aside, Helm, or I shall force past, and harm will be visited upon you!”"

Helm shakes his head. "“I will not move, nor will I be moved. Be warned, Mystra."” He stands motionless, and with a sudden snarl of fury, Mystra raises her hands and lets fly with blue-white
lightning— - not a crackling bolt, but a humming, searing continuous beam!

In an instant, Helm’s hand is raised. The beam strikes it, and vanishes into it, seemingly absorbed. Mystra gestures angrily. Nine huge balls of fire burst into being and roll through the void at Helm. The armored giant stands unharmed amid the flashing flames and the rain of ice, explosions,
hammerblows of giant fists and mystic blades that follow.

Mystra weeps with anger and frustration. Her tears gleam and flare like tongues of blue flame, but she does not cease her assault. Gigantic winged snakes and disembodied fanged maws form out of nothingness, but as they strike Helm, to nothingness they return. Tentacles lash the armored
colossus, and axes, spears, and great hammers of shimmering force attack him. He stands firm.

 

At last Mystra leaps forward and hurls herself upon him, spitting flames from her mouth. Her fiery
tears course down over them both, as Helm calmly holds her at bay, ignoring her blows and grapplings, and opens his visor.

 

Mystra screams as their gazes meet, a horrible shriek that is heard across the Realms. Helm's unwaivering eyes stare into her eyes for a long breath. Helm draws back a gauntleted fist, and smashes it through Mystra’s chest. At this, the body of what was once Caitlan explodes in a devastating flash of light, heat, and power.

 

The energies of Mystra’s parting burst through the gate. Even shielding your eyes, you are blinded by the naked power of the goddess, loosed from human form. Then your vision clears, The ruins of Castle Kilgrave have been leveled, turned into fine powder. The land is charred and wasted for nearly a half-mile in all directions, and the air carries a peculiar odor. You are standing, unharmed, on a pedestal of stone, all that remains whole from the bricks of Castle Kilgrave. They form a smooth circle, 30 feet in radius, centered at Midnight. Silence falls. Helm’s face cannot be seen, for he lowers his visor again as he turns toward you.

 

“"Those you know as gods now walk the Realms among you,"” Helm says. “"The reasons for this are many, and better unsaid and unremembered. Know this: in some ways, the gods are no greater than men. They all, great and small, are now much lessened in power, and they all seek something that is missing, something hidden.”

“"Men did not hide them, but men - or elves, or dwarves, or orcs, or any creature of Faerun - —may find them. They are of great power: the Tablets of Fate.

“"They have many other names, as they have manifested themselves in many forms: A golden orb roiling with wisps of fire; a gem of glowing white-trapped fire as big as a man’s head; a quill-pen of misty force; a pair of human-seeming lips that move and speak in mid-air, but boast no face or body beyond them...there are other manifestations besides.

“"But now they appear as stone tablets, as long as a man’s arm on each side. On them is inscribed the names of all the gods, and their duties, which so many of them seem to have forgotten. Their recovery is crucial to the survival of the Realms as you know them.

"“If you are heroes, seek them. If not, tell those who are of what I say. Great glory awaits, in the seeking as well as the finding. Go now, in safety. Think, and grow wiser than the one you came with.”"

 

And with that, the gate is closed. The heroes  discover that they are now healed, well and whole. At this time, Midnight finds Mystra'’s pendant, lying at her feet.  When Midnight picks it up, the
pendant shines brightly with a blue light, and Midnight's eyes glow brightly with a glittering blue cosmos of fire. She knows that she now carries a shard of Mystra’s broken power. And she knows
one thing more: that she must seek out Elminster, the historian of Shadowdale....