You say, ‘Hail, Zebuxoruk’
Zebuxoruk says ‘So you have finally come, to see again the ignominious end of beloved Norrath. Can you hear me, Druzzil? Are you there, Solusek? I am free of my cage. The language of the gods is my own, as are my many thoughts, culled and refined from a thousand million years of ongoing imprisonment. Yet there is no mana to empower my will, nor worshipers to sustain me. Norrath has been destroyed, sundered into [dust].’
You say, ‘Dust?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘I saw many things as I lingered in my cage. Armies of the unsavory pantheon, and their ignorant opponents, tearing the world apart, breaching the passage of days from What Was to What Is. See noble Veeshan, sprawled dead in the heavens. See the clockworks of Time sprung and broken. The Veil of Order ripped away again and again, delivering [Norrath] and yet also destroying it.’
You say, ‘Norrath?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘The world has gone, the planes are fading away, and all of you are but orphaned echoes of a dead time, doomed to endless rebirth in the stomach of a beast whose length is measured in aeons. Still you’ll try to save what can never be saved, to redeem for yourselves a tiny amount of illusion that the universe is not as it is. Gaze upon the grave of Veeshan, the lifegiver dragon, and know the [truth] of my words.’
You say, ‘What truth?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘You have done nothing, yet you are responsible! For all of this! You, the innocent, for despite your denials you are powerless to preclude yourselves from involvement in the greater tragedy, the hideous fate which sweeps away all memory, all context, until only the echoes of that mighty struggle remain. Know that the [corpse] of Norrath still bears the many marks of your intervention.’
You say, ‘A corpse?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘So predictable, you mortals. Set a problem before you and you must solve it; give you a chance and you will take it. Even when you confront the grandest context of your actions, still you leap to action with hardly a second thought. Have you ever given yourselves to the possibility that perhaps death is a better [alternative] to eternal fighting, and endless destruction?’
You say, ‘What alternative?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘If I had known what the ultimate outcome would be I would never have tried to give mortals the secrets I discovered. No, that was indeed a mistake. But perhaps I listen only to the voice of my own purposes, perhaps throughout the unknowable length of my imprisonment, I have lost forever the ability to empathize with those mortals I once sought to [aid] with the powers of the gods.’
You say, ‘What Aid?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘Know that it is futile to tamper with time. You gain nothing, for opening the timescape to your own intrusion opens it also for others. But you should know this, for you have already been through these portals hundreds of times, at least in my experience. What are You? What am I? The difference between us is meaningless. You are doomed to repeat the tragedies of time, and I am doomed to witness them. If you still choose to try and undo what has been wrought upon Norrath, I shall repeat these words yet again, yet again, yet again. ‘The Portals [beckon]. Do as you will’.’
You say, ‘They beckon?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘There, in times past, you may find ways to restore your [context], if ever it was truly that valuable.’
You say, ‘What context?’
Zebuxoruk says ‘The destiny of Norrath sits in peril as long as the enemy’s power is undiminished, in what was once called Oceangreen Hills. There must you re-establish the balance.’
So it was that I headed to Oceangreen Hills.