"War of the Souls" Plot Revaled!

By Rafael Canoa

I have hacked into Margaret Weis' computer and broken past her pitiful file encryption program. Here is what I discovered about this much anticipated trilogy:

The four remaining living Heroes of the Lance are gathered at the Inn of the Last Home, reliving the past and talking about the good ol' days. Suddenly, Goldmoon turns to Tika and says, "My dear, you're looking like a broken down nag these days. How does Caramon manage to put up with you? Thankfully, being a high priestess of Mishakal, I have learned the 'Plastic Surgery' spell and I will stay beautiful and in shape for some good time."

Laurana, scoffing, replies "Well, I'm an elf and I will always look much, much better than you two decrepit human chicks."

At this Tika, pulls out her trusty frying pan and wonks both Goldmoon and Laurana over the head while screaming in fury. Dazed, the other two women grab assorted kitchen utensils and proceed to beat the crap out of each other. All the noise soon awakens the dozing Caramon who grabs his walker and hobbles over to valiantly break the women apart. Tika steps back and demands of her husband that he declare once and for all which of the three women still have what it takes. Shaking with senility and unable to control his drooling problem, Caramon gives his wife a toothless grin and replies, "My dear, you know I don't care about those things anymore. I'm too old for action... if you know what I mean."

When Laurana and Goldmoon point their fingers at Tika and begin to laugh, the aged barmaid suddenly loses control and cracks Caramon's soft skull with the pan, killing him instantly. Shocked at her action, Tika wails in despair over her fallen husband and commits suicide. The others glance at each other and Laurana asks if Goldmoon can ressurect them. The plainswoman shakes her head, replying that only cultists belonging to the new religion of the goddess Jean Rabe have the power to bring back dead Heroes of the Lance. Deciding that there's nothing left worth hanging around for, the two then kill each other as well, reasoning that they will find their friends in the afterlife.

The scene then shifts to the plains of the realm of the afterlife. When Goldmoon and Laurana arrive they soon hear another argument breaking out. Walking up to a large tree, they spot their old friends. Swinging from a high branch is a limp Tas with a rope around his neck. Sturm is pinned to the tree trunk with a lance through his chest. Tanis lies nearby, sprawled on the ground with a anvil lying atop his crushed head. Tika is a few feet away, her crutches wrapped around her neck. They find Caramon leaning against the tree, his back to them. Coming up behind him, they see Flint hefting his axe as he yells out in rage: "By Reorx, I told ye to stop pissing on MY TREE!!!" and with that the axe comes down, severing Caramon's spinal cord. The dwarf turns and sees the two women walking up.

"What in the Abyss are you two doing here? Is there no other afterlife available? Why does everyone keep showing up here? I WANT SOME PEACE AND QUIET!", he screams while waving his axe menacingly.

Goldmoon stares at him and asks: "Where is Riverwind?"

"He's roasting in my forge, and that's where you two are gonna end up if you don't leave!", the dwarf replies as he launches himself at them. A pitched battle ensues and all three are killed... again.

There is a blinding flash of light and suddenly a black-robed figure appears. A rasping cough issues from the depths of a cowl as the head turns to survey the carnage. Bony hands pull the hood back to reveal white hair and gold skin. "Fools," the new arrival says in a sibilant whisper, "you're already dead. You can't die again. Get up"

At this, Sturm plucks the lance from his chest and strides up to the newcomer. "You know something, Raistlin? I'm really sick and tired of your domineering, arrogant, know-it-all attitude. Its your fault we're all here," the knight states coldly.

"Oh? And I suppose its also my fault that you're stupid enough to mess around with my slutty half-sister and become father to an idiotic son who can't make up his mind as to which side he's on?", the mage retorts back.

Just then, a pair of hands burst from the ground and a worm-eaten and decomposing youth wearing the armor of a knight of Takhisis pulls himself up. "Just who are you calling an idiot, uncle bad-ass?" Steel demands of the mage. At that moment, a ghostly apparition wafts over beside the mage and says: "And who are you calling a slut? To think that I gave the best years of my life caring for your sick ass... I shoulda slit your throat the day you were born."

Tanis then gets up and walks over to the ghost, "But Kit, I thought you loved me. How could you sleep with a stiff-neck like Sturm?"

Laurana gets up as well, rage in her eyes, "So... you still have feelings for that shameless hussy?", she demands while drawing her sword. Seeing his mistake. Tanis backs up, bumping into Steel who says, "Are you insulting my daddy as well, half-breed?"

Flint's voice is then heard: "Where's me damned keg?" Hearing a giggle behind him, the dwarf turns around to find Tas drinking his brew. The kender looks up with wide innocent eyes and says, "It just fell into my pocket. I have no idea how it got there. I was going to return it in a minu..." his speech broken off as Flint's hands fasten about his scrawny throat.

Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, an enormous blue dragon crashes down from the sky, grappling with a figure wearing a suit of burnt Solamnic armor.

"She's mine!" yells the dragon.

"NO! She's mine!" yells back the knight.

"Why, you thousand year-old, rotting and rusted, potted-plant head..."

"Why, you thousand year-old, overgrown, steroid taking-freak lizard.."

As the two combatants roll around, they smash into the tree, shattering it to bits. Soon, everyone else jumps into the fray and a battle-royale ensues. Escaping briefly from the dust cloud, Raistlin raises throws his arms up in disgust, shaking his fists at the heavens. His hourglass eyes pick out the constellations of Weis and Hickman, and the mage comments bitterly:

"So this is your cruel joke, huh? A war of the souls? Our poor and over-used, tormented souls? Couldn't you come up with something better and newer?

Then a huge hand comes down from above and scoops up the mage. A booming female voice can be heard saying:

"Not you, my little Raist. You're still popular. Besides, I still have to write 'Raistlin: The Puberty Years.' Come, I have need of you."

And with that both the hand and mage vanish in a puff of smoke, leaving the others duking it out in a grand melee until some god/author decides to bring their tired asses back for yet another pointless adventure in which they save Krynn... again... and again... and again...

THE END

""War of the Souls" Plot Revaled!" © Rafael Canoa