The Questions We Should Not Ask

The battle is won, but Jallarzi finds little comfort in victory. As the last traces of Mishakal’s strange blue fire fade, unsettling questions begin to take shape — about the gods, the Cataclysm, and the true nature of those fighting alongside her.

As the ashes of the draconian assailants scattered on the underground breeze, Jallarzi watched the pillar of blue flame make one final pass through the shop-turned-battlefield before dissipating into the celestial fields from which it had come.

Mishakal’s light cannot harm her true followers. Of that, I am certain, Jallarzi thought. But another thought immediately followed: Why, then, does Mishakal’s light manifest as Cataclysmic fire?

Slowly, a terrifying answer crept into Jallarzi’s mind.

Mishakal is Man’s friend. That much is evident. But when the Gods hurled that fiery mountain from the heavens onto Krynn, was Mishakal among those who acted? Did she oppose the Cataclysm as humanity’s advocate, or did she join the other Gods in viewing it as a rightful punishment for the Kingpriest’s affront? Did she dissent? Did any of them?

All signs suggest that the Gods are returning to Krynn to deliver us from Verminaard’s army of monsters. But assuming we prevail… what happens afterward?

Jallarzi’s gaze turned to Durmik, the dwarf wiping the tip of his pick clean of the last bits of draconian gray matter.

This one wields Mishakal’s staff - a gift of immense power, rightly entrusted to his unwavering hands. I watched hordes of enemies crash against him like ocean waves upon jagged crags, yet each time he emerged victorious. I suspect his physical fortitude reflects a deeper, more mystical strength. Only time will tell.

Then there was her dear old friend, Revan.

Revan has always been a paragon of Kender-kind and as reliable as anyone. But what am I to make of the blackened scales that replaced his skin? At first, I accepted his story of a laboratory accident without hesitation. Now, however, it seems far too much to be coincidence.

The draconian army. The black-scaled dragon. Revan’s honeyed words so easily finding purchase in Onix’s mind. Onix, who shares his scales and colour…