"Blind men should not pretend to see the truth. Witchery is too little a term to describe the might," Msonus says, removing the sight of all the others in the room as well with a wide sweeping gesture. "of the Mystic."

He continues, slowly walking around the room. "Those of you who pretend, who fabricate lies and ignore the truth of yoyour dreams... It seems fitting that you are those same ones who perceive lies where there are none. Are you so wrapped in deceit that you can see nothing else? Have you forgotten that it is not when you are thinking, but when you are without consciousness, that you truly know?

Stubborn children, in your tantrums do you fail to see from even a single eye? And you call my guide the fool?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:20, Mon 21 Sept 2009.

The original priest fell to the floor in worship. The temple behind him clattered and rushed about, people yelling and stumbling and screaming.

"Lord!" proclaimed the priest. "Forgive me! I did not see it as you! Please, return my sight! We meant no ill! Forgive us, O Three-Minded One!"

"Ah, you recognize now that you do not see me, don't you? " Msonus says. "And so soon you ask forgiveness? Perhaps I am in such that mood. Those who wish their mundane sight returned, raise a hand high. "

There was silence - save a handful of sobbing begs for forgiveness from some of the crowd - as most of the temple raised their hands. The others, presumably, either didn't hear or were too panicked to do anything.

Msonus takes a moment to see if any who clearly heard did not raise their hands, while walking around and reiterating. "Go on then, keep them raised. The most interesting part about it is, of course, that you cannot see who chooses to raise their hand, and who does not.

A few did not raise their hands. These were the few who were sobbing, with guilt, believing this curse to be justice, to be exactly what they deserved; the couple who were too prideful to beg for anything, even from their own Lord; the few who were too scared to do anything; the handful of seers who believed blindness would be good for them, a blessing, that would teach them true humility; and those who believed that only by not asking for forgiveness would they be given it - those who believed that the fools who dared raise their hands would be smote threefold.

Msonus, though intrigued by the variety of reactions, seems to change his mind. He raises a hand, about to make a gesture, before he stops. "I wonder if I have promised the impossible," he says, very quietly, to his guide.

Nonetheless, he waves the hand, and attempts to restore sight to all of them.

Their sight was fully restored - a miracle.

"Thank you, oh thank you!" cried the mystics, in rapture. They'd abandoned all thoughts of harming Msonus.

"Enough," Msonus says, suddenly irritated. Perhaps he had hoped his own power would fail him. Still, he had grown tired of whining, and did not feel the children would learn any better this way.

 "Who do you claim to be your leader here?"

The High Priest - dressed in elaborate gold, deep blues, and lush purples - stood down towards Msonus, holy stave in hand. He did not raise his hand for forgiveness, and Msonus doubted whether or not he'd actually gone blind.

"I am he."

Msonus smiles at him, and though the meaning may be harsh, his words sound soft.

"And of what do you dream, or not, that you allow such closed-mindedness, brutishness and, above all, ignorance? Your children know nothing when they see, but I can forgive. What of you?"

"I am their priest and their guide. I have saved them from genocide and from starvation. While some would stare towards the stars, look into the herbs, peer into the smoke .. I gaze only into the coldness of reality. I have done more for these people then you could ever hope."

"More than I could ever hope? Presumably so, sir priest. I do not hope," Msonus says. He pauses after the statement, before continuing with a more calm voice. "And I made no doubts of your ability, though you feel the need to bring up genocide and starvation. You gaze into the coldness of reality, an admirable trait perhaps, but what is a temple full of those who do not know their god when they see him? "

"An effective temple. A temple that can survive in troubled times. Our Msonus is inside - it is a state of being, not an impersonal manifestation upon this material plane. You are nothing but a demon. Be gone, lest I blast you."

The high priest waved his stick menacingly - a thing made of cold iron, the words THE DEATH OF MSONUS engraved upon it.

"You speak contradictions and know nothing of the world. You who pretend, who plays the mystic. One does not threaten the one who comes in visions; fighting a dream is nonsense. What would you gain?" Msonus says. "And yet you brandish a stick, a trinket prepared with the most ridiculous of statements."

An eye pops into existence. "I will open your eyes."

As the man falls, trying to soften his scream of terror, he points the stave in Msonus's general direction. Msonus feels rather than sees a blast of massive power hit him, and he stumbles back. He is paralysed for a moment, and when he recovers the high priest is still experiencing visions of intense horror, but Msonus feels.. weaker, somehow. As if he had been robbed.

"Betrayer..." Msonus whispers, and though he is unsure what the stick had done, but does not like it either way. Quickly, he holds out a hand again, and his third eye flares for just a moment. The other two eyes seem to dull in comparison, and his fingertips spread apart in a five-pointed spread. With a slight screaming noise, the air seems to ripple about his hand.

A flash of purple, and Msonus retaliates.

The retaliation was enough.

A cough - blood - and the High Priest lay dead, a martyr for his cause. Msonus felt the stolen energy return to him, saw the blasting rod crumble and rust. The High Priest lay still, the  deadly force still ripping through his spirit.

Msonus walks over to the corpse silently, looking at the ruined rod.

"Are there others who wish to attempt the murder of their Mystic?" Msonus asks, without turning around. An eye pops, and another, and they look around instead. The god himself continues to simply stare at the man who had seemingly planned such an attack for some time, with such a rod engraved as it was.

There was none willing to harm their God. None here, anyway.

"Well then, is someone going to clean up the mess here?" Msonus says cheerily. He seems to have moved on very quickly. Or perhaps he really is just insane.

 "What can you tell me of this one's teachings" the god says, gesturing at the corpse. By now he turns to look at the people with his face, the supplementary eyes spinning around to the back to stat

No one answered. How could they? They'd already invoked the wrath of their God once.. a second time would be truly disasterous. No one had the nerve to answer, except..

"He.. he wasn't from here," said the guide, the outcast. "He came.. from somewhere else. Lord."

"An outsider," Msonus says, looking back at his guide. "I suppose that you all are rather frighted. Remember though, that this man was he who threatened me. You all have no fear of such retaliation. Did your sight not return to you? I am forgiving as well. I shall ask you again:"

"What can you tell me of this one's teachings?"

"He preached that their was no true God, only reflections from something he called the Astral; this Astral, as he referred to it, was everything that existed within our subconscious minds.. only be training and meditating rigorously could we achieve 'Msonus', or the perfect state of non-being, where the fallacies of the universe are revealed.."

The guide looked a little scared.

Msonus either doesn't notice the fear, or doesn't seem to care.

"An intriguingly sane and civilized doctrine from one so brutish. Nevertheless, does it not seem a bit ambitious to try to reveal the fallacies of the universe? It is not only form the concrete and the true that we learn. Still, I see no harm in meditation and thought, and all are free to continue to whatever degree they choose. Simply, I should ask that as Mson you recognize that you are born of Msonus. Keep the three eyes open, truly open, and you shall find truth and reward."

He pauses, and changing to a cheery tone, says, "Now, we shall need to decide who shall take up this new position... and we shall need to let the other Mson know of my coming."