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The Chamber of the Gods radiated power. A ceiling of stars shone above ones head as black walls of infinite depth stretched between the heavens above to the stone cold floor beneath ones feet. Yet it was always the occupants of the massive thrones of ancient splendor that drew ones eye. For when a mortal looked at the thrones' occupants was the moment when they first understood their own insignificance down to the marrow of their bones.

The avatars of the gods were radiant in their glory. Kiri-Joloth shone with a holy light on a throne of white. Chemosh radiated an aura of fear and horror, leering from his throne of black. Gilean peered down from his red throne, observing all with a quiet air of strength.

Gods and goddesses of Light, Darkness, and Neutrality filled the entire Chamber. Whether a mortal loved or hated them, one could not help but feel an overwhelming urge to fall to their knees in prayer.

For here were the beings who had ruled their planet since the Primordial Ages and guided their lives for generations. They who stood through the rise and fall of empires across the ages, glorious and immortal. They were power embodied.

Yet it was that at this moment in time – this one, singular moment – this terrible majesty had been dulled. All of their grandeur could not disguise the two empty thrones of white and black which stood at the forefront of their factions.

The departure of Paladine and Takhisis from the ranks of the gods had left a power vacuum in the heavens. Soon the gods would become embroiled in a fight not seen since the dawn of time, as the gods and goddesses would struggle amongst themselves to see who would rise to take the former seats of the Valiant Warrior and the Queen of Darkness.

Would the mighty Sargonnas, consort of Takhisis and god of Minotaurs, take the throne once held by his Queen? Or would the cunning Chemosh, god of the undead, take it from Sargonass' grasp?

Who would oppose the victor? Would it be Kiri-Jolith, Paladine's right hand and the god of honour? Or would it be Mishakal, Paladine's wife and Queen?

None knew the answer at this time, forcing the lines of power to be redrawn. Ancient boundaries once thought sacrosanct would be tested anew while alliances as old as the world itself would change to fit the new balance of power. The coming age would be turbulent and filled with strife… just like the ages before it.

'Every age thinks itself to be filled with evil, and the ones preceding it to be filled with good.' A pained grimace surfaced on his harsh, angular face. 'I will not miss this vanity.'

Smiling in amusement, a figure clothed in darkness hid a soft laugh of derision as he watched the gods and goddesses begin to squabble amongst themselves. Here in their sanctum they believed themselves safe from prying eyes. It was an overweening sense of arrogance that he had long since grown accustomed to seeing in them.

All it would take was a moment, and half of them could be struck down. In one instant, the balance of power would change yet again.

'If I had the desire to regain my power and challenge them for godhood, now would be the time to do it. The fools!'

The watcher was filled with disgust at the sight before him. He had seen other mortals brought before this Chamber but moments ago, mortals who had trembled in fear at the very presence of the divine beings. Through it all the watcher had maintained an air of disdain. Such things were made to impress the weak and inflate the ego of the mighty. When one had power to rival theirs – and knew it – that person could not be so easily impressed.

The watcher continued his observation for a moment longer before turning away. The squabbles of the gods and goddesses no longer interested him. A new journey awaited him, a journey that no god or goddess had ever seen.

But as he left the chamber to begin his journey, he paused and stilled his footsteps. There was something slowing his steps. A feeling danced at the edge of cognizance. What was it? What could enter this chamber and reach out to him? He reached out with his senses, and listened.

It took only a moment to identify the source of this new feeling. Something was calling his name. Something familiar, but on such an intimate level that he was taken by surprise. Softly and insistently it reached out to him, asking him for aid.

The watcher's blood began to quicken... and with a shake of his head, he realized that he had one more installment on his final debt. The last debt that mattered to him, and the only thing remaining in this world that could pause his journey to the afterlife.

He spoke a soft word of magic and vanished from the room.