Chapter 1 - Introduction
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The benevolent hand of the Ancients is ever far-reaching. With the knowledge over life and death within the span of their ken, they took an interest in the propagation of creation throughout the galaxy.
And where life could not be found or sustained--it was seeded and created.
In the vastness of space, the aquatic giant Terra was formed. Like a gleaming blue pearl in the sea of stars. A world of infinite ocean -- devoid of life but teeming with possibilities.
Setting to work, the Ancients tasked off the shaping and construction of a world-ship. The Central Research Observational Nacelle. It's constituency--several VARNs--Vehicular Astropod Research Nacelles--attached radially about it, forming an enormous landmass upon which four elemental lords fought for supremacy. Guided by the hand of the Ancients--an entire world was formed from the chaos and humanoids of multitude shapes and sizes unknowingly lived as passengers for this long, lonely journey across the stars to settle their new home, Terra.
Such a massive undertaking though was not without help. A Guardian, a steward of Cron and herald of the Ancients' will, was tasked to ensure the safety of this grand experiment. Computerized Operations, Research, And Knowledge. Such descriptors fitted these agents perfectly, and the CORAKs were the undisputed masters of such callings. Loyal, compassionate--and smart. Corak of Cron, called the Mysterious -- lived among his charge as a great sage. A master of spell and sword who kept a low profile but was ever ready to act if his world be threatened.
Preparing for its eventual arrival -- the Ancients also assigned Terra a Guardian. A new generation of operative for a new age of arising conflicts with their dreaded nemeses, the Kreegan.
Little did they realize how objectively narrow they had defined this parameter. The moment Sheltem was activated and given access to all of Terra's technological core framework, he declared the Ancients an alien influence and used all of the planet's resources and weapons to drive the 'intruders' away.
All nearby CORAKs were tasked with subjugating Sheltem and returning him for study. Of them, only Corak the Mysterious survived. But Sheltem's imprisonment would not last long. Escaping and endangering a nearby VARN and then CRON itself, Corak pursued and attempted to regain control of his prisoner--aided by the driven and spirited humanoids of both worlds. But alas, badly damaged but alive -- Sheltem was able to slip away from his pursuers once more and return to Terra.
Greviously injured, Sheltem returned to the core of the world and placed himself in a stasis chamber for over the next thousand years to slowly bring his damaged body back into working order. Similarly injured, Corak had to do the same on CRON. And in the span of that time, CRON and all of its VARNs safely arrived and seeded themselves in the aquatic giant's oceans -- creating that which are called the great Isles of Terra. And for a time, things were peaceful.
But even in stasis, the world is not safe from Sheltem's power. Reaching out with his mind, he could feel the presence of the intruders populating his world. Unwilling to leave his chamber with his repairs incomplete, Sheltem instead schemed another way to drive these Cronlings from his despoiled planet:
If he could not eradicate them personally--he would reach out with his magical influence and find new Sleepers to act in his stead. And with his plot, rekindle the ancient aggressions that once pitted humankind against one another.
A war of alignments is brewing.
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The last thing I remembered was stepping through the Gates to Another World. Our victory was complete--but there were new worlds out there to explore. New places to test our mettle and grow ever-powerful. We had all gone in together...
But en route, something went horribly wrong. I sensed a great surge of energy from the gate and then, suddenly--I felt myself being torn from the other three. I watched my brother and the Paladin sail out of view. The elf woman tumbled in my direction but I lost sight of her, too.
Alone, I felt myself tumbling through the stars--neither awake nor asleep. Neither alive nor dead. In this void, such things are meaningless.
Suddenly--I felt my body again. Tired and weakened from the ordeal. I was returning to the materiel continuum. How long had I been in that dreadful torpor? A hundred years? A thousand? A million? There was no way to tell.
Suddenly--even as I felt myself de-etherealizing and slowly reconstructing, I had a vision.
His face was hidden by the darkness blotting out my senses, but there was an immediate familiarity.
"Alamar....,"
No--I remembered. Not Alamar. Alamar's imposter.
The light of the approaching world brightened my senses slightly and I saw the rest of that menace's face. Irreversibly scarred away, as though by a great fire. Underneath, the bones of his face gleamed with unnatural energy--and then, though I be not sure if he addressed me specifically, I heard him speak.
I am Sheltem -- Guardian of Terra. Twice now your kind have defeated my tests; Thinking yourself worthy of invading my world.
Walk carefully then, through this third challenge. And take heed that your final decisions are truly what you desire. For the course of destiny can not be turned once set in motion.
Until our next meeting, Mortals!
The hatred, the malignancy in his countenance, was more powerful than any dark almighty I had consorted with. Weakened from the strain of receiving this psionic communique, I blacked out again for a time.
The next time I came around, my senses felt more substantial, but my mind was still adrift in the sea of stars. Disembodied. This time, I had another vision. A man with pale blue-green skin and large, solid black eyes. I recognized him from a recording in Sheltem's soul maze. It was Corak -- the so-called "mysterious" herald of the Ancients. And poor warden of Alamar's imposter. Because of his incompetence, our homeworld of Varn had been needlessly threatened.
This time, Corak did not seem to exist as a recording. He was dressed in full adventuring gear -- gleaming armor with a spellbook under one arm and a sword readied on his belt.
"You...!," Corak looked stunned. "I wasn't expecting you here...shouldn't you be on Xe..--?"
He paused in mid-word. And then a sudden epiphany crossed his features.
"Oh. -Ohh.- That's clever. The Ancients do at times work in such mysterious ways..."
I tried, but could not speak. I could only feel my unconscious mind drift uncontrollably toward the growing light ahead. Corak looked at me carefully and then spoke again.
"You've been in the worldgate for too long and your soul has been stretched away from your body. But it will be all right. I'm putting your body in a safe village --- well, as safe as I can find. Your spirit will 'catch up' and you'll come around in another few weeks and it will feel like this was all a short dream."
He made a motion over me. He was holding a thick notebook with a carefully bound spine.
"I'm putting this with your book of magic maps. Don't lose it. If I run into any complications, you'll need it. I need to leave now. I'm heading out to find a way into the core of Terra. When you are ready, come and find me. Look for the pyramids. Good luck, friend."
Alien bastard. He left without even telling me anything more about where I was going. About what had happened to my travelling companions. About my brother. But I was powerless to protest.
I could only drift in and out of spiritual consciousness...as the gleaming light of the approaching world grew larger and larger. And then, after another unfathomable length of time---a loud explosion rocked my ears. Or at least--it seemed that way. In truth, it was just the drift of the air moving past my head. But to ears that had been closed off for so long, it was as loud as could be imagined.
Followed by the smell of cheap linen. And then the agonizingly slow feeling of my body taking shape around me. Until at last, I was whole once more--resting at the Inn of Fountainhead.
I am Faulkner. A mighty cleric of no small acquaintance with the dark Almighties. Or -- at least, I used to be. The almighty ghosts that inhabit Terra are different than the ones on Varn and I have much to re-learn. My brother and I used to openly brag of being Evil alignment, because we believed having an Evil outlook required a more sophistic, realistic view of humanoid nature. However--ever since that self-righteous paladin took us with him on our first adventure, it made me wonder if being so staunchly evil was limiting myself of my own full potential. Samuel wielded no small amount of strength himself---to deny it would have been foolish. To not consider the possibilities of adding that strength to my own would have been ignorant. I think the widest, most exploitable spectrum of power may be to align one's self with the strengths of -all- the sides that the almighties have to offer.
I was also currently alone and couldn't afford to pass up any favors that would keep me in my own skin. The inn where I was at seemed safe, at least. But Corak's face in my memory was the face of someone who had seen much danger in the world. I had to find out more about where I was, and where my brother and companions had disappeared to.
I had to be careful. I hadn't seen much of it yet--but I awoke that day knowing that this was no world of peace and comfort.
It was a world of Might and Magic.
Might and Magic 3: Isles of Terra, was released in 1991 by New World Computing, once more with Jon Van Caneghem as the development head.
In the previous games, our only window to interacting with the mysterious and magical worlds of Varn and Cron were through the careful manipulation of the Runes of Binaria.
Through the benevolent machinations of the all-powerful Ancients, we may now also use the enchanted Rodent of PARC to open a new avenue of playing -- err, interacting, with the world of Terra.
Manipulating our rodent though is still somewhat clumsy in this game. Perhaps due to the timing issues that come with Dosbox emulation. Once you get used to the keyboard binds, it is generally easier to stick to using that instead. I just wanted an excuse to show off some badass manual illustrations. (Though, these ones are actually from MM6's manual.)
Might and Magic 3 was the first game in the series I played, which leaves it with a special place in my heart. I also feel it is the game in the series with the most flavor-text. That is, descriptions and writings about things that have no real objective purpose other than to give the game more character and immersion. As something of a creative writer myself, it had an impact on my young mind.
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