Greetings, random reader. If you are reading this, then you are about to be revealed a strange and absolute Truth about the universe in which we live in. To ease your mind into the concept, I will begin with a gentle introduction.
First of all, do you really believe that when you or your friends stumble upon an old, somehow untouched, ruin, fight monsters that for some reason decided to inhabitate the place and claim old, valuable and magical treasures that luck simply decided to bestow upon you today? Or perhaps those times where by shere coincidence you survived an encounter you weren't supposed to survive? Or perhaps you believe that the innumerable practical jokes life played on you or your adventurer friends happen naturally and are in the very definition of adventuring? Perhaps you are not wrong that it is in the definition. However I assure you that all these things are guided your way by a strong and firm hand. Or a book, in this case. Even the freak chance where you or your friends accidently trip and die. It is all guided.
If looked at many examples of fine adventuring, you will begin to see a pattern. As if someone carefully layed out a scenario, a theatre play that your life moves along. And that is precisely the case. Indeed, there is a scenario written for you, perhaps even on paper somewhere. Yes, and this is not a deity taking personal interest in everyone's lives, I assure you. All this happens, in fact, through the Order.
The Order of the Dungeon Masters is an ancient one, it's roots going perhaps to much earlier times than Warcraft universe's dawn, and it's existance will stretch infinitely longer than the end of it's times. The Order is of immeasureable proportions, enough for any one member of the order to not even have a remotely accurate idea of how many other members it has. These hooded figures stretch their existance across time and space and are, in fact, a driving factor of it. Their mighty Books of Lore can stop, speed up, slow down and even rewind time. But time is not all that falls under their almost omnipotent power. They can manipulate destiny, circumstance, luck, coincidence and even things such as Gods.
These creatures that far surpass any deity often times meet up to have massive tea parties while stopping the flow of time around them, ensuring that no simple mortal knows of their existence. You might think that they discuss things far beyond one's comprehension, and they do. Their language is a unique one, and perhaps it is our own languages that evolved from theirs, and not the other way around. They may say meaningful and universal things like: "lol dude i totlly trolled that purty of adventrers the othur day. they be raging so hard lol. scrubs got owned by my traps." and although we may not find the death of our adventurer brethren funny, they do. We are, in fact, little more than toys which they happily fling around for their own amusement.
However as it is with all things, every power has it's master and that master has it's own. The Order answers to an even greater power, called the Order of the Game Master. However saying that the Dungeon Masters answer to the Game Masters would be inaccurate. The Order of the Dungeon Masters is one, unconsciously unified organization, while the Game Masters are different, non-related groups that seek to dominate certain parts of the Dungeon Masters. They force such trivial and menial things such as Logic and Lore Canons upon the Dungeon Masters, and they grudgingly give way to their masters' wills. (Lest their faces be ban-hammered.)
How can one find these creatures if for whatever reason they decide to show themselves? It is a common fashion, perhaps. The Game Master's Hood, Robe and Sandals along with an eery looking book never far from their grasp. Certainly, it is impossible to say if all Dungeon Masters keep to this apparent fashion, but it will indeed increase one's chances in finding.
These beings have their weaknesses as all things do. Unfortunately their unlimited, well almost unlimited, power takes it's toll on reality. They can not exist forever and are forced to sleep for a time. To disappear to places where even their fellow Dungeon Masters can not reach. And they can not take their books with them. But a book is a private thing to a Dungeon Master. It is something he would not even entrust his mother with, and he is forced to leave it in special magical chests locked up in old barrows, as tradition dictates. Once in a while a mortal stumbles upon such a book, and reads it. However mortal minds can not fathom the Truth that is said in these books, and most of the time they turn to ash. Most of the time. There are stories where mortals make deals with Dungeon Masters in exchange for returning their books, but what kind of vast riches such a deal may bring strains one's imagination.
P.S.: This is kind of a joke, if you haven't figured it out yet. Though it would be kind of cool to have this as actual IC.
