And here is the remaining part of the story you are looking for; from Dragon Mag 185 (September 1992):
From the Two, Many
Daclamitus conceived a bold plan. He petitioned Kalak
for greater resources to hunt wizards, pointing out that
Kalak’s iron mines sorely needed slaves. (This happened
in ages past, before Kalak began his mad ziggurat.) Kalak
heeded his favorite’s wishes, and Daclamitus became per¬
haps the most powerful templar in Tyr’s bloodstained
His troops scoured the city and beyond. Many house¬
holds heard a knock in the night, and the Sleepless One
snared dozens of wizards. He interrogated each in private,
separating the foul defilers from the preservers. The defil¬
ers perished in the arena games, but the preservers went
to Kalak’s iron mines.
They toiled little in that tortured earth, however, for the
other part of Daclamitus’s plan saved them. The pre¬
servers encountered bad gasses, falling rock, or other
“fatal” accidents. In reality they escaped, via templar
magic and the arts of the mind, to Averil’s grotto. There
she instructed them in the magical arts, and Daclamitus,
visiting in disguise, taught them the equally subtle art of
subterfuge. When twelve men and women had gathered in
the grotto, Daclamitus christened them the first Council of
the Veiled Alliance.
Averil and Daclamitus saw each new preserver added to
their ranks as a son or daughter, and taught them to ad¬
dress one another as “brother” or “sister.” Here you see
the basis of one sign of the Veiled Alliance, "My father is a
templar," and its countersign, “My mother is a gardener.”
They taught the Council to seek others and establish the
Alliance’s protections wherever they could; to honor the
way of the preserver, and aid their brothers and sisters;
and to learn as little about one another as possible. This
way, if one fell into enemy hands, not all would perish.
The templar and the mage taught them the Alliance’s
aims, just as you learned them when I recruited you,
noble sir. And Daclamitus, over Averil’s objections, pro¬
pounded the doctrine of requital, which you learned at
your initiation: that those who leave the Alliance must die.
The life of a templar, conditioned by incessant fear of
betrayal, inspires ruthlessness. In his long rise to power,
Daclamitus had learned this lesson so deeply that no magi¬
cal helm could ever remove it.
Though the early mages resented the idea, they assent¬
ed to enforce requital and to bind all those who came after
to the same oath. “I dislike the idea,” said Averil, "but we
shall hope we need not put it to the trial."
Little did they know their first trial already approached.
Out of Happiness, Sorrow
Now happiness filled Daclamitus. His success as a tem¬
plar had brought him power and respect, but never had he
known close friends. In the next year and more, noble
principles worked their alchemy in him. Where he had felt
fear, even he who could kill with a word, he now felt brav¬
ery. Where he had lived in an acidic air of hatred and
suspicion, he felt love. He watched his twelve turn the
hidden grotto into another riot of greenery, and the festive
disorder pleased him.
Although he sought to conceal his growing aspirations
from the suspicious gaze of his subordinates, all could see
a change in him. His lightness of spirit, his new surety of
bearing galled them. Envy consumed Antrifos, but he hid
it even from himself. The young templar hounded his
spies without mercy, threatening them with worse than
death unless they uncovered the high templar’s secrets.
At last Antrifos discovered that Daclamitus often dis¬
guised himself and then journeyed into the desert. "Here
I have him," Antrifos thought. He would catch Daclami¬
tus and compel him to reveal his plots to Kalak. Then
Kalak would surely find a new favorite-in the brave
Antrifos, of course.
In the deep of night, Antrifos gathered a few net-fighters
from the games and waited in a narrow alley between Da-
clamitus’s house and the city gate. Daclamitus stumbled into
their ambush, but he had not neglected his training during
this happy interlude— indeed, he had gained much to train
for. He fought grimly, ironically calling on Kalak’s power to
blast through the nets and fell the gamesmen. Bloodied but
firm of purpose, he leaped at Antrifos.
The younger man had strength and vigor, but Daclami¬
tus knew the determination that comes from fighting for
love. They struggled in silence. If caught fighting in the
streets, the two templars would both suffer Kalak’s cruel
When Antrifos lunged and lost balance, Daclamitus
closed and delivered the final blow. But as Antrifos fell, he
sent forth all his long hatred and envy, cursing Daclamitus
in Kalak’s name. The foul doom blighted Daclamitus. He
destroyed his enemy’s body and staggered home, scarcely
able to move under Antrifos’s blight.
Painfully he removed his disguise and tried the healing
arts he knew. Nothing deterred the curse, so in agony he
summoned his underlings. The templars arrived at mid¬
night and performed their offices —or claimed they did —
to no avail. Perhaps hoping their leader’s fate would incur
Kalak’s anger, they carried Daclamitus to the sorcerer-
Kalak showed no anger. He dismissed the templars and
calmly dispelled the curse. But in doing so, Kalak also
dispelled the virtue wrought by the helm. Daclamitus’s old
nature returned-greed, ambition, hatred, and distrust—
stronger than ever after the helm’s long repression.
For a few moments Daclamitus lay speechless, tears
streaming down his face as he felt the capacity for joy, for
love, slip away. Kalak stood grimly by. Some in our broth¬
erhood believe that the sorcerer-king had entertained only
vague suspicions of Daclamitus’s changed nature. But
others hold that Kalak had known at every moment of his
templar’s plans and ambitions, and now dispelled them
because they worked well with a scheme of his own to
destroy all preservers in Tyr. Who can say? Who knows
the mind of a sorcerer-king?
Daclamitus dried his tears, for he could no longer re¬
member why he shed them. His voice rough with a new¬
found hatred, he laid out a plan to destroy the society he
He would go to the grotto the next day. While he dis¬
tracted the preservers with sham lessons, his templars and
guards could approach from without. Then when he said a
certain word, they would assault and destroy the wizards.
Kalak arranged matters at once.
The next day Daclamitus hastened to the thriving grot¬
to. Averil greeted him with a kiss and presented him with
a nightingale. It had flown into the grotto, and Averil had
charmed it. He did not smile, either at her kiss or the
bird’s sweet song. Naurax the leopard growled low, and
Averil knew sudden suspicion. While the templar looked
elsewhere, Averil used the very system of signs that Da¬
clamitus had taught them, to warn the others to beware.
Daclamitus began his lesson. Five of the students drew
close, asking him questions, apparently absorbed in the
teachings. The others secretly prepared their charms and
countercharms, hoping that they had learned earlier les¬
sons well. Then Daclamitus spoke the name of Kalak, and
the templars rushed in.
The terrible battle threw Averil against Daclamitus. She
held a dagger but did not strike, and as she struggled in his
grip, she thought only, "Where has the man I knew gone,
and why has he left us?" But she could not dare to shed a
tear, though in his eyes she saw only hatred. She saw the
mind that had formed the doctrine of requital. With that
thought, she stabbed. As Daclamitus fell, she said in a dead,
dry voice, “This time I did not let down my guard.”
Kalak arrived at battle’s end. He found many fallen
templars, many guards, and the bloody carcass of the
leopard. Of the preservers he found . . . five. He raged,
for a new enemy had appeared and, worse yet, vanished
in the same moment. He would never relax his guard
again. He ordered the body of Daclamitus burnt without
honor and its ashes scattered to the winds. Never since has
a templar commanded such power. Never since has any¬
one commanded a tyrant’s trust.
Out Into the World
Averil and the seven surviving men and women of the
First Council retreated to another mountain sanctuary
within sight of Rogal Tor. The king’s spies watched the
Tor for months in hopes the wizards would return, but
finally Kalak lost patience and recalled them. When the
spies vanished, the wizards did indeed return to restore
the cave’s verdant life.
After months of healing herbs and regimens, the wiz¬
ards regained their strength. After years of introspection
and discussion, they regained their determination. While
Averil lived, none mentioned the fate of Daclamitus. She
had come to love him and share in his dream. In that
spirit, she prepared the seven not only in the magical arts,
but in philosophy as well, that they might learn to seek
and recognize the good.
After some years, she called the seven together and
said, "The time has come to cast you into the world. I
have trained you in all I know of magic. Now you must
conceal these arts and live using the trades you have
learned. But the Veiled Alliance must survive. Duty com¬
pels us not just to preserve our lives, but more, to pre¬
serve our bond.
"Do not forget me, your mother, nor Daclamitus, your
father. He made us. Let his fate teach you constant vigi¬
lance. I give you my blessing."
Then she sent them away across the land. A year later
one of the seven returned to the sanctuary. He found that
the beautiful green plants had died, and there was no sign
of Averil. Instead, in the center of the cave lay a pile of
ash gathered by the wind.
Now this man had a gift for sensing the shreds of past time
that cling to any object like a tracery. He rubbed the ash
between his fingers, assensing its history. Later he spoke to
his fellows with wonder and tears. “Not her,” he said. "I
don’t know what became of her. Not her, no. He returned."
The story of our founding carries the irony that still
marks our existence. A templar founded this society of
wizards; our founder became the agent of our betrayal
and exposure to the enemy. The society, devoted to pre¬
serving the life of our world, still espouses a doctrine of
requital that better befits the ruthless templars. Later you
may discover other ironies. Do not let them blind you to
the truth we support.
At times Tyr’s Alliance has grown large, and at 'times it
has withered almost to vanishing. But just as ashes nour¬
ish the roots of plants, a new Alliance always reforms.
Likewise we always face hardship, so long as ignorance
remains. Visiting wizards from other cities tell of the same
problems, and I understand that when they return home,
they sometimes begin their own Alliances. These do not
follow ours, but they will shelter you as you travel, as you
must shelter them.
So keep our cause forever in mind, and remember to
help your brothers and sisters where you can. Service and
silence above all, noble sir. In drinking this water of
knowledge, you have truly become one of us. To you, my
new brother, I say welcome!
Allen Varney wrote the AD&D® DARK SUN™ campaign accessory DSR3 , Veiled Alliance.