Lord of Spells from Faerûn

"Bane and Melkor paid with their lives for their crimes, but you are all guilty. You allowed worshipers to build lavish temples, bowed to your name, could not even feed your own children, and spilled your own blood. On the altar of your corruption, all so that you can mentally control these so-called lesser mortals so that your names may be remembered. Your actions are enough to make me wish I had never created you. "

"I will punish you. From now on, the era when your names are called by believers and your ideals can be fulfilled by believers to gain faith has passed!" Io's voice was cold and sacred.

"Only when believers believe in you wholeheartedly, will faith be born from the soul."

The words of the Supreme Monarch pierced into the hearts of the gods like sharp swords. They covered their chests in disbelief. For the gods, faith is the cornerstone of everything, and what Io just did made them completely lose their past. Chic days.

All the gods across the continent sighed in surprise. In distant Surago, Talos the Furious began to roar, "Doesn't this make us dependent on mortals?!" His young, strong sage's remaining eye widened with rage and shock.

"Rely on them, even more than that." Io replied, "Without believers, you will become weak and even completely destroyed. After this disaster, winning the faith of mortals will be something you must do your best. You may even They must be served.”

In sunny Tethyr, a beautiful woman with silky scarlet hair and reddish-brown eyes looked like she was about to vomit.

"Serve them?" asked the fire-haired goddess Suni.

"I said it!" Io replied.

"No!" Cyric yelled, "After everything I've been through—"

"Quiet!" Io roared, pointing at the thief, "I don't like being wronged by the following, don't make me regret the choice of the New God."

Cyric's eyes were blank, and he stared at Io in shock.

"This is the reward you seek, isn't it?" Io asked, keeping his eyes on the thief.

Cyric stumbled up the stairs. "Indeed!" he shouted. "I swear I will serve you well and I will be grateful!"

A low and cruel laugh escaped from Io's throat, "No need to thank me, evil Cyric. The god of strife, hatred and death is not a gift."

"Isn't it?" Cyric frowned in confusion.

"You aspire to be a god, to control your own destiny, to have great power," Io said.

"You can have only two of them - divinity and power, and your will is done on earth as in the land of the dead. All the sufferings of Toril will be yours too, to create or increase as you please, but you will Contentment and happiness will never be known again.”

Io paused, looked at Midnight, and said with interest in his eyes: "And what you desire most, Cyric, can never be obtained. I am your master, and you serve me... and... Your followers serve. I believe you will find that you are no more 'free' than when you were a child wandering the streets of Zhentil Keep."

"Wait a minute," shouted the new God of Strife, "I don't—"

"That's enough!" Io snapped, extending his palm to Cyric, "I know you will perform your duties well, because this is the only thing you are suitable to do."

Midnight's heart sank, disappointed with how it all turned out.

"Forgive me," she whispered, turning away from the stairs.

"Some promises cannot be kept." She began to fear that Cyric's view of the meaning of life was the right one - a brutal experience that ended in endless pain and suffering.

"Midnight!" Io shouted, turning his attention to the mage.

Hearing her name, Midnight slowly turned around to face the master of the gods, "What's wrong?" she asked provocatively.

"I'm hurt, exhausted... and I've lost loved ones. What more do you want from me?"

Heim's eyes were filled with anger. How dare the mortal in front of him be so rude to the supreme monarch. But to his surprise, the master who hated the following offender the most did not get angry.

"There's something about you that doesn't exist in the Realms," Io said, pointing at her.

She immediately understood that the other party was referring to Mystra's power: "Take it away, it is of no use to me anymore."

"Maybe there will be." Io replied.

"I'm very tired and don't want to continue guessing," she said bluntly.

"I have lost many gods in this crisis," Io said. "As punishment for their theft, I will make Bane and Melkor disappear, but the mysterious lady, Mystra, the goddess of magic, is no longer here. , even I can’t bring her back. Are you willing to take her place?”

Midnight looked at Cyric and shook his head, "No, I didn't find the slate for this reason. I don't want to fall like Cyric."

"It's a pity that you view my proposal like this." Io said, pointing to Cyric, "I chose a mortal for his viciousness and cruelty, and I wanted to choose another for his wisdom and sincerity. she."

Cyric sneered, "Don't waste your time on her. She doesn't have the courage to face her fate."

"Accept it, Midnight." A voice came from behind the female mage. She looked back and saw the Black Staff and Imrik looking at her with a smile, trying to let her accept this supreme glory.

"You are the bravest and most sincere woman I have ever seen. I believe you will become a goddess worthy of respect. More importantly, if you just leave like this, then everything you and Kelanwo have done will be lost." Are you treating it like a mirror?" Imrik said pointedly.

Midnight was stunned and looked back at Cyric. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists.

She thought of the souls of believers waiting to be rescued on the fugue plain. She imagined her lover wandering the vast pale plains like millions of other souls. Io's proposal may give her a chance to save Kelemvor from eternal pain and rescue believers from undeserved torture. That being the case, Midnight knew that Imrik was right and that she did have a duty to answer the call of the God of the Gods.

She held the mage's hand and smiled: "Thank you for reminding me."

Imric also smiled back: "All nations will be grateful that they have a kind and noble lady."

Io interrupted their conversation, "What's your answer, Midnight?"

Midnight glanced at the mage in front of her complicatedly. He had helped her a lot, and now he was trying to make herself accept the opportunity to become a god, but she was also hesitant to accept the burden behind this responsibility.

She turned quickly and walked up the stairs that had become a diamond path, standing opposite Cyric.

She said to Io: "I accept." Then she looked at Cyric and added: "And I will make you regret your betrayal forever."

For a moment, Cyric cringed at Midnight's threat, remembering the wizard's true name, Ariel Manx. He smiled coldly, which must have no power for Midnight, who was already a goddess.

Io raised his hands with a smile, and the holy steps and everything on them disappeared in a beam of light, dazzling Imrik and all the residents looking at Waterdeep Mountain.

Similar pillars of light appeared in sunny Tethyr, Surago, Arabel, and all the other cities where the gods rested, shining brightly into the sky. Finally, in Tanres, where the God of Duty and Bane confront Bane, the scattered fragments of the lion-headed incarnation of Torm floated from the ground and gradually gathered together, and the same pillar of light rose on the sea - Torm was also resurrected.

The saints who descended on the earth returned to their homes.

Explain the meaning of Io’s punishment.

dnd is different from our traditional beliefs. In the minds of people on earth, faith should be a believer who believes wholeheartedly, but in DND, as long as you admit that this god exists, your actions of calling his name in an attempt to obtain blessings, or practicing his teachings are all Can be increased in faith. This is the original.

But now, Io's punishment is that the faith in the kingdom of heaven must be produced by the faith of believers who believe wholeheartedly. This also greatly increases the difficulty for the gods to obtain faith. The gods must devote themselves wholeheartedly. Only by serving the believers well can we gain their faith.