Hedge Wizard Florah

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Florah

I'm just a dope ass wizard who loves dope.

Superpower: I got an owl.


Clairvoyant Gary from the Abyss

# The Lore of Clairvoyant Gary from the Abyss

It is said that in place of blood, Gary has ale running through his veins. He doesn't just drink beer, he literally bathes in it.

You won't find Gary any place other than the pub. If you ask him to attend an event, already know his response, ".._be fine ale thar?"_

Once you start drinking with Gary, you'll know right away something strange is about to happen. It might be that he knows your mother's maiden name. Or, perhaps he answers your question about betting on a sporting event before you're about to ask it.  Five or six pints in, he might start muttering under his breath, _"Yeah, I hear ya. What's that got to do with me? Mmmmhmm..  for another pint I'll tell ye how ye gonna see ye demise."_

Gary never has to pay for his ale, either.  It has become so well known that Gary can tell the future when he's intoxicated that everyone in town continues buying the guy drinks, often well beyond the capacity for any mortal to hold them.

_"It's all in the beer, its really not me, I'll admit to ye!"_

Gary clinks an empty glass with the second he is holding and sings, _"SLAINTE!"_


Adept Daria of the Tower

# The Lore of Adept Daria of the Tower

**Anything but adept at wielding magic, Daria has been disgraced by her family of powerful necromancers after many 'a conjuring gone wrong.**

**Horribly wrong.**

**The truth of the matter is, Daria is pitifully clumsy at wielding her staff**. **It is known that Daria and her familiar, Finnegan the Frog,** have sworn off magic**. Now a historian of the Arcane Arts captured by the history and nature of magic, Daria harnesses the power of** psychedelics (retrieved from Finnegan's potent venom) to uncover the secrets of the universe.

**Despite her dive into academia, it is said that Daria spends some solitary moments late in the library whispering spells of conjuration, hoping to one day return to her family a powerful wizard. Let's just hope she is careful what she summons.**


Necromancer Judas of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Necromancer Judas of the Cosmos

Once so greatly feared within the Wizarding world that his name was considered to be ineffable, the once greatly feared Necromancer Judas of the Cosmos now harbors an internal rage that has rendered his name once again utterable

Angered by his insufficiently evil attire, Necromancer Judas of the Cosmos tirelessly seeks the darker robes which once garbed him and to reclaim his once supremely menacing presents. Set on a ruinous path of terror and wreckage to reclaim darker cloth, this is a death eater to be avoided in his hunt.

Known only to a few, there is a weakness that is actually on show. Should a jibe be directed at his green robe, Necromancer Judas will skulk away to save face and rebuild his ego.


Arch-Magician Casper of the Rock

_You wander into an abandoned tower, floating on a mass of stone, cleaved from a mountain in some ancient conflict..._

_You trace the runes of the summoning circle in blood, its aura draining you as you work..._

_Time seems to grind to a halt as the runes are complete._

# _The Rock was my prison, set adrift in the Quantum Shadow for eternity._

# _Now, I must consume, to feed the chaos within._

# _You should not have come here, mortal._


# The Lore of a Soul

The Houngan Necromancer Auguste of the Eternal Melancholy was once a living wizard who could be hired for his practice of voodoo.

Strange and fantastical, Auguste held a masterful hold on the communal spirits and knew how to use them to his advantage.

Until one day, seeking an even deeper, darker power... he turned to necromancy.

Auguste loved his familiar razor cat, named Z, and could not bear the idea that one day soon Z would die.  He believed he found a spell that could lengthen Z's life to that of a human couldn't be that much of a strain, but he was wrong.

Turning his beloved companion into a zombie, Auguste felt unbearable guilt.  In trying to reverse this, the spirits turned on him and Auguste became a Forgotten Soul, reconnecting with Z.

Auguste soon learned to channel the powers of necromancy and became an even more powerful Houngan.  He was able to transform his old Voodoo gris-gris bag. reanimating it into its own undead spirit.

With the power of two familiars and necromancy, Auguste wanders the Runiverse with an insatiable appetite, looking to add more reanimated beings to his growing menagerie...


Artificer Benito

# The Lore of Artificer Benito

"Beni, would you bring me my toolbox?"  a Great Old One mutters as he tinkers away on a project.

From another room, a monkey carrying a large wooden box bounds over, toolbox levitating by his side...

"This will solve all of your problems, Beni."  The Old One shoots the monkey a reassuring glance, "I know you have your doubts."

"You know I can't get my hopes up,"  Benito sighs.  I've become accustomed to wizarding from the background.

The Great Old One draws a patient breath.  "Your work in magical armaments has protected our realm from ruin on too many occasions.. we can't afford to keep your skills muted..  we need you mobile and you deserve freedom to practice your art publicly.

Determination fills The Ancient's eyes as he adjusts his glasses, "This oughta do it!"

"With all your wisdom and power,"  Benito says, "this is what you've come up with??"

Merlin furrows his brow, contemplates for a moment, and just shrugs.

"Try," he encourages as he raises a delicately crafted Wooden Boy before Benito.

Beni closes his eyes as sparks light hisfingertips, "Okay."

Instead of manifesting from Benito the Monkey's hands... they leapt from the Wooden Boy Golem's hand!

With that, Artificer Benito set out to defend the realm with his golem to become the legend on the battlefield he already was - but now, he won't have to stay behind the scenes.

"The solution to every problem is just a rancid acid bomb away" - Artificer Benito


Adept Rita of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Adept Rita of the Cosmos

Walker of the Darkness in the Cosmos, Mage Adept Rita specializes in the ancient ways of dark magic. Using the staff of Cosmos as her weapon, Rita is accompanied by her trusty hare, Trax. She casts a heavy blanket of dread and fear wherever she walks. Not many can stand the shadowy stare emanating from her eyes, which curiously enough, burn a purple flame. This instantly triggers fear and a sudden chill up the spine of those on the receiving end of her gaze. Trax the hare is no ordinary rabbit.  He has the ability to vanish into the darkness, reappearing as a purple flame from speed at which he moves. The dark magic from Rita plays well with the strengths of Trax. Few opponents stand a chance.


Hedge Wizard Keziah of the Wold

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Keziah of the Wold


Shaman Cromwell of the Valley

# The Lore of Shaman Cromwell of the Valley

With his peyote to guide him, Shaman Cromwell of the Valley seeks truth and understanding, to better navigate these strange worlds. He finds clarity through the fog, and uses his special seeing abilities to predict future events with great accuracy. His vision is only ever misguided if he over indulges in cactus power, for the greatest enhancement comes with moderation, retraint, and willpower. Knowing when to stop is both this Shaman's blessing and curse. Hope that luck is on your side when it matters most.

When the stars are properly aligned and the peyote is dosed just right, Shaman Cromwell can summon all forms of ancient magic to protect himself and those within his close circle. His memory of such events is often hazy due to the lingering effects of the psychedlic plant, but truth speaks for itself in the number of lives saved through his mysterious abilities.

Likes chocolate, more than is healthy, and will go to great lengths for such a treat.

Boots are always soaking wet. Why? "Because magic", he says...


Theo Ruffian of Turtles

The Tale of Theo, Ruffian of Turtles.

Theo Lived a happy childhood on a remote small island in the Alchemists Archipelago. Every day he went coconut picking and fishing with his friends, so his mom and dad where able to cook amazing fish curries in the evening. His parents had a small garden for vegetables and herbs and where farming all day. They also had a goat, which they kept for milk and a pig, who was supposed to be slaughtered for Theos birthday, the day Theo would become a man, according to his tribes traditions.

But luck was not on Theos side. During the great feast on his birthday, a giant wooden beast arrived from the see. When the beast touched land, walking Iron Suits wielding shields and swords, disrupted the feast and started to slaughter his family and friends. Theo rushed into the shed and grabbed his fathers butcher knife. He didnt know how to use the weapon, so he ran to his father for help. He found his father inside their families tiny wooden house. He was holding his mom in his arms. The whole room was covered in blood and there was an Iron Suit lying motionless on the ground. As Theo cautiously came closer, he saw that his mom wasnt breathing either and his father was in teers and heavily wounded. He turned around, saw Theo and told him to run and defend himself, for Theo had never learned how to fight and was no match for the Iron Suits. His father quickly gave him the Shield of the dead Iron Suit, which was decorated with the head of a pony. Run! His father shouted as tree more Iron suits entered the house. Theo held the big shield above his head and ran away, as his father threw himself into battle.


Theo ran towards the only other place he knew, towards the only friend he had left. The Iron Suits where to heavily armed and so, not able to enter the dense vegetation in the center of the Island. Finally he arrived at the turtle pond. Where a dozen turtles where living. Theo was out of breath and wounded because of the spiky vegetation. Turtle Tom, the biggest turtle of the crew walked up to Theo and asked him what happened and why he was holding a shield and a butcher knife, but before Theo could answer, he heard a whistle like sound. A second later a rain of wooding stick with sharp points fell out of the sky. Without thinking it through, Theo raised his shield above his head, protecting Tom and himself from the deadly rain. Right before their eyes they saw how the other turtles screamed in panic before getting pierced by these strange, sharp objects. Tom shouted that they immediately had to hide in the secret turtle cave below the pond. So they did...

A day later Theo went to scout the Island, only to find death and destruction. Nobody was left except Tom and himself. There was no evidence of the presence of The Iron suits either, other than the shield Theo had obtained.

The years that followed, Tom and Theo lived their live to their best. Crafted combat clothing for Theo and spiked Toms shield. They Trained for hours every day, knowing that one day, they will get their revenge on the Iron Suits.

To be continued...


Rudolph Carver of the Arena

# Rudolph Carver of the Arena
---
You may think I am a glorious warrior.
---
"Carver of the arena"?
---
How many souls have I taken?
---
How many mothers weep for the sons I have slain?
---
Absolutely none.
---
I just sell gyros outside the arena.
---
Buffkin runs the register.
---


Sorcerer Moloch of Limbo

# Got milk?

Sorcerer Moloch's whole village was slain down to the last cow in a Big Potion Megacorp drone strike. Epic destiny yet unfulfilled, the Golden Calf intervened to restore Moloch's soul to his body, and he sprung back to life freshly armed with holy moogic and the mighty grimoire "Necownomicon." Joining the Milk Guild with a vow to introduce Big Potion executives to the horns of divine justice, Moloch also day trades 10x leveraged milk futures in his spare time to help fund the guild treasury.


Hedge Wizard Blaise of the Woodlands

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Blaise of the Woodlands

Transmuted through space and time.

Hedge Wizard Blaise of the Woodlands finds himself in yet another unknown enchanted universe, but yet, somewhat familiar magical place and chain.

He knows now, yet again, he has been summoned to some other land to prepare to do battle against the dark forces that roam this world.

Blaise goes forward into the unknown with his powerful horseshoe in hand and the rune of Neptunes magic to guide his spirit.

He is prepared for whatever quest may manifest for him to accept.


3D Wizz DeeZe

# The Lore of 3D Wizz DeeZe

3D Wizz Deeze comes from a long line of unsuccessful degenerate wizards. He left his family at the age of 13 and spent 5 years in wetlands, where he ate shrooms and saw the universe as it really was.

After 5 years of complacent isolated tripping, he decided he was ready to face society again and put his magic to the test.


Shaman Robert of the Valley

# The Lore of Shaman Robert of the Valley aka 0xSpot

Long I tracked him. Scat and breath and bone. I listened for the howls. White as a ghost, that ancient wolf. When I hunted alone I spoke to him. Better hearer than most, his diamond eyes that promised me the force of power, if I could catch him. Traps and snares, arrows, illusions. Long I strayed off-course, but one day, warned by my faithful brown hare I waited as wolf walked across my path, and loosed an arrow. Between neck and chest, and in an instant, dead. No time for wrath, regret. They tell us that wizards know best. His bones my staff, his pelt my winter cloak my changing-power conferred, ere I spoke.


Adept Hadrien of the Rock

> Art by ozzz

## The Feast
An organic and uneven staircase trailed down and through the mist.

Hopping rock to rock, the Hare moved swiftly despite some hostile edges and irregular drops. Hadrien was struggling, moving tentatively and taking his time to find footing on the glimmering surfaces of this sea-battered path to Vorvadoss cliff-home.

    The Hare disappeared into the mist below and Hadrien stopped for a second to contemplate the risk he was taking.

Im about to become lunch, he muttered to himself, shaking his head, before continuing to reach towards the rocks to steady himself before the next move.

Suddenly, the mist cleared and a platform emerged further down the jagged cliff-face. On the platform, the Hare was being gently petted by a Great Old One, Hydromancer Vorvadoss of the Bastion.

    I thought Id clear the mist for you, friend!, the monster bellowed upwards.

There are more than a few perks to being a Hydromancer on the coast, he winked.

Upon reaching the platform, Hadrien turned to face in-land and saw into the rock-face for the first time. Through a wide opening was a lavishly decorated hall with arches and pillars ornately carved to depict many scenes and their stories.

The walls were also covered, and it seemed to Hadrien that many centuries of history were recorded here.


Amongst the carvings were scenes of battle between great beasts and men, ocean mermen courting ocean mermaids, and at the back of the room, ones attention couldnt help but be drawn to a magnificently detailed Great Old One holding the symbol of Illuminatus with its mouth tentacles. Pillars and arches reached high into the cave and melded into the high ceiling above. On these pillars and arches twisted rising, cephalopodic limbs and upon closer inspection, hieroglyphic lines of symbols, runes, and markings in an ancient language could be seen running between them.

--
---

>
> Figure A

>
> Figure B

>
> Figure C

------

--

---
Beautiful home, Hadrien remarked.

I dont live here, Vorvadoss chuckled, leading Hadrien and The Hare into the hall.

They walked along an aisle to the left of a long dining table that must have been able to seat over 100 wizards, and at least 400 hares.

You will sit here, Hadrien. And your friend can sit next to you    , Vorvadoss began, Where exactly is your friend?

Hadrien shrugged, Your English is excellent, by the way. Will the other guests be as fluent?

Oh sure! Some of them, at least, not everyone is a talker,     Vorvadoss replied.

I see," said Hadrien, "Well, Im happy to practice too. Could you tell me more about these carvings and symbols?

---

Vorvadoss spent the next hour passionately re-telling myths of his races culture whilst floating plates of raw fish, seaweed piles, steaming clams, and other unrecognisable dishes of multi-colours and textures settled themselves upon the table.


Finally, many guests had arrived, with no apparent dress-code or singular method of greeting, and there were now 22 of them, one bearded wizard, and a hare sat at the large table. They were all huddled into the centre of its length, where the food was also gathered.

Nobody paid much mind to the pair and the food on offer was quickly demolished. With many tentacles reaching across the table, it was as if they were fighting over what appeared to Hadrien to be an excess of food. The Hare managed to pull away some seaweed to safety beneath the table, whilst Hadrien watched the spectacle with some amusement as well as fear.

Immediately after ravaging a months worth of food, some of the guests began to leave. Vorvadoss, seemingly unbothered, was now pouring out wine for the remaining guests.

Some of you may have noticed that we have some special guests with us this year. Hadrien is interested in culture.

Turning to Hadrien, he lifted his glass, This is Culture.

    The other Great Old Ones around the table lifted their glasses, cheers-ing in their own language, and set about telling Hadrien what it means to be a Great Old One.     Learning about the different approaches these interesting creatures took towards magic and their lives, Hadrien began to think about each one of these terrifying, red-eyed, nightmare-inducing monsters as unique and complex individuals.

Despite being few in number, they were not without their challenges. Commitment to the old traditions was waning in these more contemporary times, and it was only through Ancient decree that they found themselves gathering in this great hall.

The hall was where a Cthulu had supposedly learnt the secrets of cosmic order and granted magic to some of his descendants. Even then, not all of the Great Old Ones respected this old story.


>     We gather to enjoy each others company. Even after years of integration efforts, our race is often looked upon as monsters. Its no surprise to me that some of us have turned into monsters as a result. said one of the guests.

---

> Those of us who no longer attend the feast are disillusioned with our place in the cosmic order of things. They wish to forge new traditions, to dominate on land as we have at sea. I do not know if they will succeed.

---

> For the rest of us, we will continue to gather at the precipice between land and sea. We are grateful that Vorvadoss is the gentleman he is, the keeper of tradition, and Hydromancer of the Bastion. He protects the hall. He upholds tradition.
---

    As Hadrien and the Hare left the meal, Vorvadoss bid them farewell and safe travels.

Great to see you again, Hadrien, he spoke.

And you, little Hare, look after him, wont you? he said with a wink.

    Hadrien chuckled.

And with that, they were on the road again.


Wooden Ghost Bobbin of the Bleep

# The Lore of Wooden Ghost Bobbin of the Bleep

Bobbin and his familiar Mandrill, a skeleton monkey, are often seen as quacks. Before Bobbin was burned with a Sacred Flame, he was a powerful shaman, with magical abilities unmatched by most. However, he was not able to fully control the magnitude of his power and unfortunately was the proprietor of some unruly and dangerous spells. Because of this, he was unable to reach his full potential. Now a wooden ghost and a forgotten soul, Bobbin and Mandrill use what is left of their colorful magic to entertain and amuse the village children. He and his familiar reside alone in a small and cozy cave located just outside of the village in the woods. They are comfortable with life there and although many do not understand them, Bobbin and Mandrill feel content among themselves.


Summoner Peppy of Tartarus

# The Lore of Summoner Peppy of Tartarus

Bearing a striking resemblance to Shrek and a name quite similar to another famous green character, some have questioned whether Pepe of Tartarsauce' confused countenance belies a deerp knowledge.

Unrelated, he summons wood every mourning.

His Raven is always pecking at passersby faces.

3/2


Sorcerer George of the Waste

# The Lore of Sorcerer George of the Waste

I was tasked by the Sphinx to wait here, watching the sands drip piece by piece through his Hourglass. For what reason I am not sure, but I am bound to remain till the last grain drips.

Many years ago, I thought it not a terrible fate. This place, this Waste, wasnt always as it is now. The land was fruitful, the nature abundant; there was life, and lots of it.

I cannot help but wonder if the Sphinx knew what was to come of this place. Over the years, the Waste crept in from all sides, and everything changed. The plants turned rotten and withered away. The landscape grew empty and gray.

Under the Sphinx's spell, I remain tethered to this ground. Unable to move, eat, breath; kept alive only by the energy of the Sphinx.

Through it all, my dear rat remains. The loyal creature he is, refuses to leave my side. Even the roaches fled before him. I worry my poor rat will starve, yet he finds a way to survive, returning to my side every night. What could it be that he does?


Chaos Mage Chooki of the Palms

Ageless, timeless, infinite...these are the words some of the wisest sages in the land would utter when Chooki's name was mentioned.

Chooki was the grandfather of Chaos Magic, as he accidentally created an elemental chaos realm when he was attempting to revive his pet kitty, Dennis when he was but a child.

Instead of bringing his furry friend back to life, he summoned The Greater Chaos Spirit and accidentally bound it to the body of his dead cat. This caused a vacuum of power that gave birth to an entire new elemental realm.

Pleased with her new form, The Great Chaos Spirit has chosen to reside within the cat's body, accompanying Chooki wherever he may go. The two would go on to establish an entirely new school of magic, Chaos Magic, a magic unlike anything this world had seen.

After a hundred or so years of teaching, Chooki left the school to his most trusted colleagues, and went off to explore the world. Having been tainted somewhat by the exposure to the Chaos Realm, he would slowly descend into madness, becoming one of the most violent mages history would ever mention.

One day, his bloodshed ended, and Chooki disappeared into the unknown. Rumor has it that The Greater Chaos Spirit grew tired of this planet, and took Chooki back to the Chaos Realm that he gave birth to.


Chaos Mage Beyna of the Gnostics

# That Time I Met Chaos Mage Beyna of the Gnostics

I slowly crept closer to the campfire I saw glimmering through the reeds. I heard several voices, joking and cursing good-naturedly as they shared a meal. I kept low, like Grandpa taught me.

Good chicken, this, said a scruffy man in leather armor. Told you these parts had good fowl. He took a big bite out of a leg.

Yeah, but otherwise it werent that good of a haul, grumbled a kobold sitting nearby. I was promised gems and treasures! But that was just yer average village, nuttin special about it!

Come on Pipsy, youve gotten that fine axe there, thats something! A bearded man with an eye patch said. That things probably chopped wood for many a warm fire!

I felt a hot tear forming at the corner of my eye. I knew that axe - I had used it, and my pa and grandpa before me. It didnt belong to them.


I dont need no stinkin axe, Pipsy was complaining. Sticks and stones is enough to break dem bones, I always say! The other bandits chuckled at their fellows complaints as I crept into position. The fires that they started, that had taken everything from me had not yet died away, and they were laughing? I knew I had to do something, even alone. Grandpa always said I had a warriors spirit, and now I could feel what he meant. I couldnt walk away from this. I took my hunting bow from my back and slowly, quietly notched an arrow. I tried to calm my breathing and empty my mind. I counted 5, 10, 15 of them. I needed to take down as many as I could before they got to me. But before I could draw, I noticed a solitary figure approaching the bandits campfire.

The scruffy leather-clad man spotted her first. Hey, who goes there? Oh, its a lady! So, you come here often? he smirked at his pals as a few snickered.

The womans face was shrouded by a hood, but she pushed it back as she approached the fire, revealing a stern and serious expression. I immediately noticed that she had a large scythe strapped to her back. But she didnt look like any farmer Id ever met. The more observant of the bandits noticed too and immediately looked more alert than they had been moments earlier.

Good evening, she said. I dont wish to take much of your time, but I had some questions for you all. Ive come quite a long way to find you, so I request your cooperation despite the late hour.

You talk pretty nice, lady, Pipsy said. What you want with the likes o us?


Im looking for a wizard by the name of Miyo, though Im told she likes to be called Chaos Mage Miyo. Am I correct in stating that you are some of the famous Miyos Boys that have been making waves around here lately?

The bandits glanced at each other. Aye, were Miyos Boys, but she aint here, said the scruffy bandit. Were awhatchacallit, a branch chapter o the Boys. He gave her an impudent grin, showing a few missing teeth.

A satellite group are you? said the woman, giving a huff of impatience and stroking her long, single braid. And I dont suppose you know where Miyo and headquarters happens to be?

No idea, love, said Eyepatch. Im sorry we cant be of greater assistance, but Miyo finds us, not the other way around. Now it sounds like you know about us, so you should know that its not a good idea to walk into a camp of the Boys by oneself without an invitation. Weve just had a long day of work, so if youre done with questions, I suggest you continue your travels. You wont get another warning; you get my meaning? He casually eased a dagger partially out its scabbard on his hip.

The womans eyes quickly glanced around at the campfire and the motley group gathered there. I was amazed by how calm she seemed, given the situation. She sighed. Fine, I dont have any quarrel with youIll take my leave. If you see Miyo, please let her know that Chaos Mage Beyna would like a word.
I realized that this was the perfect time to start my assault! But as I drew my bow, Pipsy decided he wasnt done with her.


No, lady wait! He pointed at some jeweled flowers pinned to her hood. Those are pretty! And I didnt get any pretty things from that town we just busted. He pouted. Can I have some of those?

You may not.

Pipsys brows furrowed together. What you mean, no!?! I even asked nicely! He started walking towards her.

Eyepatch called out, lad, Id stay back if I were you, but Pipsy was nothing if not single-minded.

Stay back, final warning. Beyna reached a hand behind her back.

I noticed a bandit I hadnt seen before creeping out from behind a bush in the womans blind spot, likely a scout. I quickly shifted aim but didnt fire.

You should know that if I see something I want, I get it. Pipsy said, standing a foot away from the woman. Just today there was some old guy who didnt want to give me my axe

Hearing the mention of my grandpa broke my concentration and I let go of the arrow. It whistled through the air, and slightly off-target, buried itself in the scouts gut. He immediately went the ground, groaning loudly in pain.

Several of the bandits cursed and jumped to their feet. Beyna sighed, then her scythe was whistling through the air. Id never seen a weapon move that fast, but a second later Pipsys head was on the ground, brow still furrowed in anger. His body followed a few seconds later.

Eyepatch took charge. Shes got a sniper! Ben, Tinker, take em out! Rest of you, with me! We gotta take care of this.


Most of the group quickly wielded their assorted knives, clubs and axes and fanned out around Beyna. She hadnt moved from where she had dispatched Pipsy. But my eyes widened as a sort of dark shimmering appeared in the air around her. And then, swear to Dotta, she multiplied! From one form emerged many, each indistinguishable from the next and surrounded by that dark aura.

Shes a witch! shouted Scruffy, terror showing in his voice.

Its an illusion, Eyepatch said. Just attack them all and well take her out! Forward! the men shouted and rushed toward the squad of Beynas.

Rustling nearby brought me back to my immediate surroundings. The events had distracted me from the fact that Eyepatch had sent men after me too! Before I could move, they emerged from the reeds a few feet away and saw me with my bow. With a wordless shout, they ran at me, and I knew that they would not hold back. I had seen it first-hand.

Before their blades reached me, an otherworldly screech rang out behind me. The mens eyes shifted above my head and focused on something behind me. Their faces contorted with horror and they froze in place. After a few moments, I realized that they would never move againthey had turned to stone!

A hulking creature flew above me and toward the campfire. As it landed beside Beyna, I realized that her copies had vanished. And the bandits, werestill there, in a sense. But they wouldnt be bothering any other villages again.

Well done, Anzu, Beyna said, stroking the creatures head. As far as I could tell, it was a chicken-dragon. I noticed it kept its eyes closed as it enjoyed the pats.


Beyna started to walk around and examine the bodies around her. You there, come over here, Beyna said, glancing over at me. I decided to comply - I sensed that I couldnt escape her if I tried.

These arent actually Miyos Boys, Beyna said to herself as I approached. This one has a tattoo of the Rune of Cinnabar, she said, pointing to the black circle and double-cross symbol on Eyepatchs arm. He likely used the Boys name and sigil to recruit the others, but actual Boys are branded by Miyo directly.

She picked up Grandpas axe and handed it to me. I believe this belongs to you.

Wait, how did you know-

I saw how you reacted when that kobold mentioned the axe. You didnt mean to loose that arrow.

As I took the axe in my hands, my knees gave out as the events of that day caught up to me. Theyre all gone sobs shook me uncontrollably.

Through my tears, I saw Beyna watching me. A thin trickle of blood was coming out of her nose, although it seemed the bandits hadnt laid a finger on her. She ignored it.

Aye, your loss today was great. We cant bring them back, and revenge is done. All you can do is honor them. Live how they would have wanted.

I cantIve got nothing. This village is all Ive known. Im done.


I cantIve got nothing. This village is all Ive known. Im done.

A cloth bag clinked to the ground beside me. Well, only you can be the judge of that, she said. This lot didnt have much in the way of coin, but you might secure some camping supplies and sundries from among them. And you can have that gold to help you get to the Bastion. Its not far from here, just take the market road north. Theyll take you in.

I looked dully at the bag of coins. I cant take your money, youve already done so much

Beyna took out a silk handkerchief and delicately wiped the blood from her face. Well then, sell me something. Surely theres some small knick-knack or memento you carry around.

I sniffed as I remembered the carving. I got it out of my pocket. I carved this last year. I thought it would be my good luck charm, but thats obviously not true.

She took the carving and examined the small horse I had crafted. This will do. She unfastened a pocket on the inside of her hooded robe and dropped it inside. By the way it sounded as it settled, I could tell there were other small objects in there but couldnt imagine the wheres and whys of such a collection.


Theyre my tethers, Beyna said by way of explanation, noticing my curious expression.  Well, Ill take my leave, good luck out there She turned to leave, then paused. This is where youre supposed to ask to come with me. She half-smiled. Maybe Ive grown too fond of fantastic tales. But its better for you to go your own way, your destiny lies down a different path. She called to her pet beast, and he screeched again and took to the air, flying ahead of her as she began to walk back the same way shed arrived.

I watched her go, the events of that day and evening still running through my head. Although I felt despair and still struggled to see the point of anything, I remembered Grandpas words. I had a warriors spirit. And that meant never, ever giving up.

(Beynas and Unnamed Archers stories to be continued)


Battle Mage Ratko of the Quantum Shadow

# The Lore of Battle Mage Ratko of the Quantum Shadow

Battle Mage Ratko and his night wolf, Moro, weave in and out of the Quantum Shadows as protectors of the seen and the unseen realms. He does his work in the shadows and confronts those who seek to disrupt the balance. The skull of his ancient forefather is imbued with magic to open portals between dimensions as well as the ability to send enemies into horrific night terrors. Few have met Ratko and lived, fewer still have kept their sanity and lived to tell their tale.


Wooden Ghost Bobbin of the Bleep

# The Lore of Wooden Ghost Bobbin of the Bleep

Bobbin and his familiar Mandrill, a skeleton monkey, are often seen as quacks. Before Bobbin was burned with a sacred flame, he was a powerful Shaman, with magical abilities unmatched by most. However, he was not able to fully control the magnitude of his power and unfortunately was the proprietor of some unruly and dangerous spells. Because of this, Bobbin was never able to reach his full potential. Now a wooden ghost and a forgotten soul, Bobbin and Mandrill use what is left of their colorful magic to entertain and amuse the village children. He and his familiar reside alone in a small and cozy cave located just outside of the village in the woods. They are comfortable with life there and although many do not understand them, Bobbin and Mandrill feel content among themselves.


# The Lore of Fortune Teller Zeromus out of the Blizzard

Deep in a cave far below the Novayn Tundra, he waited.

..

Centuries had passed since the last dawn. Still, he waited.

..

When the permafrost cracked and the fresh, frozen air of the surface pierced through the cavern, Zeromus stretched.

The surface world may have let fade the sorrows that preceded the Night of Sealing. But now his waiting was over.

And he would remind them all what they should have never forgotten.


Hex Mage Konoha of the Field

# The Lore of Hex Mage Konoha of the Field

Darkness shall not be around me since I vow to forever keep this flame burning until my last day.

Sacre flames shall not be wasted. Sacred flames will forever not be created.

Fluffy as a cloud, white as snow, Little Hoppy will make you glow.


Charmer Sonja of the Moors

# The Lore of Charmer Sonja of the Moors

The Potion Mistress Entry 1:

Sonja rolled out of her loft and climbed down into her workspace. She made a beeline to her workspace to check on several experiments she was running. Sonja had just been offered to conduct her research at facility twice the size of her house, but it was one wizard hour of travel time roundtrip! She liked her place being near the heart of The Fey. Being close to the City Tree meant that she could easily get food and supplies. She loved to be able to wander the markets around the City Tree. Although the hustle and bustle of the markets were loud, she could easily block out the noise and found it strangely effective in helping to think through problems. She had also come across rare specimens from travelers and traders passing through on more than one occasion. Travel time is such a waste! The space will have been nice. The promised of new tech. I can probably do better! Sonja thought to herself.

Sonja checked on her first experiment setup. Witch Rita aka Greenhands (FRWC #8543) brought a newly discovered plant she found from the Hedge Wizard Woods. It seemed to have healing medicinal properties and Rita asked Sonja to identify which part of the plant held its medicinal property, extract and distill it to determine how effective it could be. Sonja started with ten different samples from the plant and employed a range of techniques to isolate its healing properties. The most common parts of a plant that yield healing properties are its leaves or sap normally. Interestingly, the root sample of this plant has been showing the highest healing value thus far. She noted her observations this morning her Experimental Notebook under the title Still Unnamed Plant. Lots more to come from this plant.


Sonja moved to the next setup where she had been exploring different combinations of herb and plant extracts to develop plant vitamin potions. This was one of her passion projects. If people had Vitamin Potions, she was sure something similar to boost the health of the forests could be created. This was still in very early development and Sonja was just mixing known ingredients to observe their chemical reactions, texture, smell and taste. The more interesting combinations of less well-known ingredients will come later. She noted her observations of the various test tube potions into her Experimental Notebook.

This vitamin potion journey for Sonja had started when she first developed a potion tailored for her own consumption to improve her overall health. It worked so well that people around noticed that she seemed to be aging slower and had a youthful glow to her skin. That started a snowball effect that resulted in her developing a range of Runiverse Vitamin Potions. The Runiverse Vitamin Potions quickly became a top selling health product in the Runiverse, especially amongst the ladies. Sonja had no interest in running a business and sold the production rights to the Alchemist Guild. The rights fee payments were more than enough for her for her to fund her own research thus giving her full independence to do whether research with little oversight.


# The Lore of Shaded Spectre Alatar of the Fatal Forever

Alatar hates cow. As in, he REALLY hates them. His eternal hatred of all things bovine circles back to his day of death, when he was enjoying a nice medium-rare steak at the finest restaurant in the Citadel, choked on it, and died. Returning to the planes as a shade spectre, he now makes it his life's mission to eradicate every last Canaanite from the Forgotten Runes, until history itself forgets the word "moo." At first, his quest for vengeance consisted of nothing more insidious than visiting numerous cow pastures and tipping over the cattle with a levitate spell, but as his undead heart grew blacker and more demonic, so too did his anti-bovine ambitions become increasingly malevolent.

He found his calling one day while eating a veggie burger and watching "Real Housewives of Goblin Town" when an ad came on the telly that went something like "Love potions? Hate cows? Inquire here for a job opportunity of a lifetime!" Curious, Alatar dialed the number, and the very next day found himself interviewing for an entry level position at Big Potion Megacorp. The interview went swimmingly well and he was hired the following day (apparently they scored applicants on a 666 point scale and he already got 500 points just for being an evil forgotten soul...he found out later Big Potion was legally challenged for discriminatory hiring practices in multiple class-action lawsuits in the past, but always successfully defended their process as "affirmative action"). Alatar was a powerful wizard, a ruthless corporate shark, and a highly skilled office gossip, so naturally he rose quickly up the ranks, working his way up from the mail room to eventually becoming a senior partner of Big Potion Megacorp.


These days, Alatar spends his days micromanaging all the various minions and henchmen in his department, cackling maniacally, taste-testing new potion flavors, and dreaming up imaginative new ways to unleash a genocidal campaign against the Canaanite population. He especially despises the Milk Guild, and keeps a little black book with the names of every single member of that guild in his corner office desk drawer. Whenever he is having a particularly pleasant day (how disgusting), he would take out that book and read the names until his black husk of a heart boils over with blind, seething rage again. Also he's trying to invent a new zero calorie diet health potion (chock full of a carcinogenic sugar substitute of course) which he is hoping to unleash upon the unsuspecting denizens of the Runiverse in the next fiscal quarter.


Battle Mage Hagar of the Tower

# The Lore of Battle Mage Hagar of the Tower

Battle Mage Hagar of the Tower, born of an alchemist and archangel, was born in a cave of The Netherworld blessed by the light of The Source. From a youngling, Hagar embraced his ability to shapeshift into diffrent forms and embraced his unique ability to communicate with any wild animal of all the land.

During an outing as a young child while taking the form as a wolf, Hagar was stopped in his tracks by an all encompassing emerald glow that spoke to him saying "Where you are I have been and where I am you shall be". In a moment the emerald glow merged with his essence and presented itself as a ball of slime at his feet. Inherenlty Hagar knew this ball of slime was to be called Chacko. This instant connection showed Hagar that from this point on he had a direct connection to The Ether.

Any inhabiant of existance from this point on would seek out Hagar whenver they felt persecution. To all wizards it is known that Hagar does not tolerate bullies of any kind. If his spell cast by his gnome's tooth doesn't put you in your place then the wrath of Chacko's slime burn will more than not let you know that the price of being the opposite of noble does not pay.


Holy Monk Aldo of the Tower

# The Lore of Holy Monk Aldo of the Tower

Aldo of the Tower was previously known as Aldo of the Wall.  Then he went on a great quest to discover the meaning of Wisdom.  This is what he learned from that journey...

"Wisdom is the highest form of knowledge. It is based on certain mystical ideas, known to people as Vedic knowledge. It is the ability of one to learn by reason of experience rather than through reflection or observation. Wisdom is also one of the oldest forms of enlightenment.

Wisdom is known in many parts of the world in different forms. Some are associated with a higher level of mental health, others with enlightenment.

Wisdom can be expressed as the ability to see past thoughts. In the following, we have a list of all the forms that can be expressed as wisdom, or as one of the attributes of wisdom called knowledge.

The three aspects of Wisdom are:

1) Wisdom is the ability to see past emotions.

2) Wisdom is the ability to see past emotions.

3) Wisdom is the ability to see past emotions.

The nature of this knowledge is that it is passed down from father to son and is expressed in its pure form, its most subtle and subtle aspects.

There are two general types or styles of wisdom:

One is absolute for the greater sense of power.

The other form is relative for the greater sense of power.

The exact meaning for this absolute type is the knowledge one gains when one attains the Absolute Knowledge of the Way."


Charmer Bathsheba of the Bastion

# The Lore of Charmer Bathsheba of the Bastion

Bathsheba is a passionate game designer, currently working on Damp Dungeon.

A description of the game world is given here.

The game world and various areas within it are located within the confines of a vast, subterranean room (or space) known as the Damp Dungeon.

There are nine different sections of the dungeon.

There are two major differences between how certain parts of the game work. As a rule of thumb many aspects of Damp Dungeon are very different depending on the game system being presented.

The first is the fact that Damp Dungeon is primarily a dungeon crawl where the game is given a few brief objectives in the order in which they are presented. Each section of the game explores specific areas or objects, often giving additional objectives of their own.

The other difference between Damp Dungeon and other D&D's is that Damp Dungeon takes place in a room with an extremely high level of player interaction and a very heavy focus on combat and loot. This is the same system the DM uses to introduce new rules and new types of classes.

The second difference is that if the first section were to start out from scratch there is a very strong emphasis paid to completing new encounters, rather than building from the ground up. An area that isn't used to the point that it needs to be explored will probably be replaced by other areas that aren't used.


Alchemist Oberon of the Wold

# The Lore of

# Alchemist Oberon of the Wold

Alchemist Oberon of the Wold, apprentice to Ice Mage Bane of the Ice, after many attempts, finally brewed a nightshade potion. He had been trying for years it seems, to impress Bane with something rare and powerful, and finally this potion deemed him worthy of that praise. Now, the only thing that will match such an accomplishment, is stepping in to the sacred flame, and transcending this world.

With his saphire slime companion, Oberon has descended the steps many times to step in to the flame. Every time he has reached the flame exhausted and out of gas, unable to proceed. Time will only tell if he commits to the endevour. Bane of the Ice waits patiently to see what will become of his apprentice.


Shadow Mage Oxnard in the Shadows

# The Lore of Shadow Mage Oxnard in the Shadows

Oxnard looks inconspicuous with that aloof look on his face, but don't be fooled. Gifted to him from the Holy Arcanist Illuminus of the Heavens himself, the Canaanite mage draws immense magical power from the Robes of Shadow.

Unlike other mages which fall into easily classifiable categories of good or evil, this Shadow mage is neither. His identity is perfectly balanced by the darkness of the grim reapers breath and his sunrise-stimulating familiar, the rare Mesozoic Cockatrice.

Like a shadow, Oxnard transcends both darkness and light to emerge as both but greater. But beware, the Rune of Sigma is a fickle source of harmony, allowing Oxnard to temporarily fluctuate towards either extreme in order to restore balance in the realm when one side fall out of place.


Electromancer Althea of the Hollow

# **Electromancer Althea of the Hollow**

Electromancer Althea is a free and unconfined witch.

She left the tedious and outdated wizard community to go solo and spends most of her time trying out new spells on herself and the animals surrounding her. They dont mind though, half of them are in love with her and would do pretty much anything to stay by her side.

Dont be fooled by her seductive ways though, her heart only goes to her springy sidekick - Alastair. His original colour might be gold, but youll see him more often than not hoping around wearing the same bright blue color as his darling Altheas hair. Like two magnets, these two cant leave each others side.

Drawing her powers from lighting and thunder, Althea excels and is most dangerous on rainy days, where shell experiment the extent of her abilities.

Althea and Alastair spend most of their time in the depth of the forest, playing around with their power for the fun of it, caring very little of the responsibility it holds.


Magus Kazem of Arcadia

# The Lore of Magus Kazem of Arcadia

Magus Kazem was born and raised in a virtuous land. A place at harmony with nature, a place with fertile soil, a place with beautiful women and place where the wine flows like water. Damn near to Utopia as you can get.

But for some reason, for as long as he can remember, Magus Kazem has been an outcast. A pariah. Perhaps his face always hidden in the shadows played a part in this. Whatever the reason, he's determined to prove his worth. Chips on shoulders put chips in pockets, as Magus Kazem always says.

Deep within him lies a legendary gift, the gift of the Dark Arcanist. Magus Kazem is a craftswizard of the highest order who possesses a rare knowledge. A rare knowledge that many would kill for. A rare knowledge on how to breed a Sphinx, the mythical creature not seen for centuries. Some say that when the last grain of sand falls through Magus Kazem's hourglass, the Sphinx will be unleashed.


Holy Monk Edge of Dreams

# The Lore of Holy Monk Edge of Dreams

Holy Monk Edge of Dreams.

After decades of quests and war the Holy Monk Edge of Dreams has returned to his quiet home, in an old abandoned monastery, in the foothills of the mighty Ether Mountains. A place of complete solitude, as has been his preference over the centuries.

With only his studies and experiments to occupy his mind, and his small but loyal companion, Finney the Blue, to occupy his spirits, he is finally at peace. Once again able to fully immerse himself within the magical realms, and silently devote himself to mastering his newest prize, the Rune of Cinnabar. Recently gifted to him by the great King Vitalik for protecting the freedoms of his people and finally banishing the evil forces back to their caves in the Central Lands.

Now with the Rune of Cinnabar, the Shoulder Cape of Green and his unparalleled mastery of the Zephyrs Laugh Wind Spell, he has become a formidable power, but his loyalty will always be to fighting evil.

Most claim the Holy Monk doesnt exist except in fables, and his real name has long since been forgotten by all but himself. Those that he does come across, albeit rarely, very soon after are unsure if it actually happened, or if it was simply, in the edge of their dreams


Arcanist Amir of the Mist

# The Lore of Arcanist Amir of the Mist

After hundreds of years alone, Amir decided to fix up and look sharp. The first steps of a new life for Amir and Rami lie ahead


Magus Jerret of the Sun

# The Lore of Magus Jerret of the Sun

Magus Jerret is the consummate red wizard. Patriarch of an influential aristocratic family deeply entrenched in the power hierarchy of Red Wizard Capital, Jerret has been trained since youth to be an elite tier operator in the arts of wizardry diplomacy: schmoozing, negotiating, backstabbing, flattery, intimidation, fast talk, and when all else fails, nuke them with a Level 99 fireball. He is just as skilled with words as he is with magic, he can recite the Black-Scholes model for pricing options contracts by heart, and he never forgets which hand is supposed to hold the fork and which one the knife. His likes include political machinations, kabuki theater, and fine cigars, his dislikes include people who don't know their place, dogs that are overly energetic, and feminism.

There is nothing more important to Jerret than the legacy of his clan, and as such, 99% of his time is devoted towards increasing his family's reach and influence, not only in the capital, but across all the Runiverse. He rules over his kinsmen with an iron fist...none of them really like him very much, but they all respect him (and all secretly hope to be favored in his will when he dies, although that doesn't seem to be any time soon despite his advanced age...his doctor said he has the heart of a man half his age at the last annual check up). And what a family! By this point Jerret has 4 wives (with double the number of ex-wives), 10 children, dozens of grandchildren, and even a few great-grandchildren in the mix. Like any patriarchal tyrant, he plays favorites amongst his brood, and makes no secret of this fact, nor does he attempt to conceal the only criteria for being one of his favorites: excellence in all things magical.


Jerret's latest exploit has been to set his eyes on the governorship of Red Wizard Capital, a project which will no doubt require a multi-year effort that culminates in an electoral campaign unlike any before witnessed in the Forgotten Runes. He has been busy building the right connections, greasing the right pockets, and making public appearances to get his name and face out there in front of the common folk. After all, it is important to gain the approval of the poors in a democratic society. Jerret is a big fan of democracy, so long as those who have votes are amenable to having those votes purchased with gold (which they always are).


Diviner Pezo of the Dunes

# Diviner Pezo of the Dunes

## Prologue

> _This collection of scientific experiments are intended as a starting point for those as committed as I to unravel the mysteries of the phenomenon most Wizards have come to take for granted._
>
> _The Familiar Bond has been studied, at length I may add, by scholars, alchemists and thaumaturges alike, and yet the nature of this elusive sacrament remains largely a mystery even in this modern age. Ancient relics and tomes, now well protected and jealously guarded by the Blues, seem as varied as they are confounding, and should you be dedicated to study these papers in depth you certainly will gain valuable insights - though I fear, as seems with most knowledge, as the final page is turned you may find that the more you know the less you understand._
>
> _However, one thing unifies all theorizing on the nature of the Bond; once forged, only death may break it - though some conjecture wound indicate that even then the connection remains - and both Familiar and Wizard must enter the bond willingly._
>
> _I have found obscure references to a Bond being transferred, but at this point I have concluded it mere fantasy._
>
>
> Foreword: The Nature of the Familiar Bond
> _Anonymous Scholar_

Waking before dawn had its advantages, in addition to the obvious disadvantages of a heavy head, sore back and watery eyes. This early the sky, barely showing a hint of purple, had yet to banish the night and reveal the unrelenting heat form its ever-burning eye - the sands blessedly cool underfoot, the air crisp and refreshing. Trodding along toward the well, Pezo allowed himself a moment to enjoy the calm and tranquility, an illusion he knew would quickly enough be dispelled by bickering and boughts of laughter in equal measure.


It's not that he didn't love his three sisters, he dearly did. They were simply much more cunning and had the unnerving tendency to somehow always get the better of him, outmanouvering him at every turn. Then, as happened every morning when his mother's shouting began, it was squarely directed his way. But Pezo, the only man of the house, had gladly accepted the role of peacemaker and defuser, nimbly navigating the tumultuous currents of sibling rivaly and womanly guiles - weaving the unwilling threads of his volatile family into a harmonious taperstry.

Lowering the bucket into the damp darkness below, he again heard the soft sound of wings furling and feathers settling. The unusual fledgeling had suddenly appeared a fortnight ago, and had since ufailingly joined him on his morning ritual - perched quietly in the palm tree above him. Initially he had been affronted and unwilling to share these fleeting and intimate moments of calm, and had done his best to scare the intruder away. However, the large owl would simply tilt its head questioningly and stare down at him with those enormous luminescent eyes. Grudgingly he had come to accept its presence, those feelings of privacy invaded instead stirring up a deep sensation of companionship and familiarity.

Not to mention the fact that the strange raptor, very much like himself, was entirely out of its element - indeed an oddity out here in the unforgivingly dry desert. He knew that other Imps existed, of course they did, far away in the forests to the north, however Pezo had never laid eyes on anyone outside of his own family with the same verdant skin, wide mouth and horned skull. _We don't really belong out here_, the thought to himself as he studied his reflection in the bucket slowly being raised up to bring the ladle to his parched lips.


"_Are you thirsty strange one_?" he asked, once his thirst was quenched. He had taken to speaking to the owl, yet much like his initial outbursts of "_Shoo!_", his attempts at coaxing a reply from the thing had all gone unanswered. Which is why, as he lowered the second bucket down, he was wholly unprepared for the strong voice suddenly exploding in his head.

"_Yes indeed, I am. Very much so,_" the voice said as he fell to his knees, hands over his ears. The splash of the bucket far below went unnoticed as Pezo looked up, his eyes locking on twin orbs of gold.

"_You... You speak!_" he croaked, getting to his feet.

"_Of course I do. And, as I said, I am quite thirsty. Rather rude, don't you think, to drop that bucket?_" came the voice again, and he realized to his wonder that the bird's beak had not moved. "But never you mind, young Pezo, for the time to leave has come."

"_You're leaving now?_" he asked, nonplussed.

"_No. We are leaving. Now._" the owl puncuated, spreading his wings slowly - Pezo had never realized just how _big_ the thing was until now.

"_I don't understand, where would we go? Besides, my mother and sisters require my presence here, the tavern opens in a few hours._" Pezo had no intention of going anywhere, the sands and his family were home.


"Your mother knew the cost when the bargain was struck, we have held up our end - and I have come to claim my price. You, Pezo. I had hoped you had manifested by now, but no matter. This may hurt just a bit my child, since the Bond must be transferred," the bird continued, wings spread ever wider, eyes akin to brilliant stars - glowing brighter and brighter.

It started as a ringing in his ears, his skin tingling as it often did before the seasonal storms hit, the earth moving beneath his feet as though riddled with serpents, until his vision narrowed to those two distant singularities - bright as distant stars - until they too were gone.


Pyromancer Florah of the Steppe

since naught three nights

i feel the flame burning bright

screams heard echoing from below

souls released from the veil aglow

as i lay my head to rest

its as if my mind possessed

"the grailed will be rewarded"

"the grailed will be rewarded"

what is this, "wagmi"?

but as my eyes become clear

that smiling face I did not see

yet washed away is my fear

...

echoing from wall to wall

another scream heard down the hall

at my door, these slimy hands

come for me from far away lands

chanting, they unlock my cage

grabbing, i'm dragged towards the stage

"you fools, do you not know my name?"

"i was born in the flame!"

burning brightly with a flash

slime through  turns to ash

"time is short, i must return!"

"save we must from another burn"


Evoker Jerret of the River

# The Lore of Evoker Jerret of the River

Searching for purpose, this may never end


Keiko Protector of the Tower

# Keiko Protector of the Tower

Treasures lie in the Tower of the Sun.The closest place to the sun in the world of Forgotten Runes is the Tower of the Sun.

Keiko is the guardian deity of the Tower of the Sun.
Because of its proximity to the sun, the temperature is as high as 6,000 degrees Celsius.
To protect the Tower of the Sun, one must wear red equipment.
Red equipment absorbs the heat of the sun and gives power to those who equip it.
When Keiko puts on the red equipment, she shows the power of an ogre, and she can defeat enemies who try to steal her treasures.
Keiko's jaguar has red fur because it is adapted to the sun.

Keiko actually hates sunburn.
Sometimes she hides her skin with a shield.

Keiko protects the Tower of the Sun today.


Mystic Milton of Atlantis

# III

# The Fallingway

Gripping his hat against the wind Milton gazed at the distant tree line, a swathe of dark green stirring under the deepening sky and the granite lake glinting from between the pine boles. He made his way towards the lake across a field of short grasses and pale flowers that bent under the gale. Coming near upon the tree line he stopped. The hooded figure stood motionless under the swaying eaves of the great dark pines that gathered on the lakeshore. Buffeted as he was by the squall coming in off the lake the figure remained still, trance-like, as some ancient carved form staring out with stone eyes against the winds of another age. The faint thundering of distant falls filled the pines. Deep grey water chopped in the wind.

Uttering a quiet word of command as he approached the figure Miltons staff began to pulse with a golden light. Two depthless blue eyes stared out of the shadowed red shroud and a resonant voice issued forth.

You will have no need of that, Wizard

Nonetheless Milton answered as he planted the staff firmly in front of himself.

We of the realm are aware of your undertaking and have perhaps guessed of its purpose

Is that so? Milton replied. And what am I to expect from the Dreamers of the lake?

There are among us some who are not opposed to the task with which we believe you to be attempting. To challenge the sacred firethe consequence of this would be of interest to us.

So, I will not be hindered?

At this time indeed not. We can offer aid. Here in this place, as you know, resides such a being as you seek.

Yes. My divination led me here. I shall find it in the lake. Milton replied with slight impatience.


Not so the figure intoned What you seek resides beyond the cascading waters. You must take the Fallingway.

                                                               \*\*\*

Milton stood staring up at the vast roaring sheets of water as they fell, foaming white against the dark slate of wet stone that rose to a mountainous peak enveloped in mist. Following the path revealed to him by the dark figure he came upon a narrow continuous outcropping that appeared to run directly into the base of the falls. Edging slowly along the slick rock path towards the thundering falls Milton pondered more than once if this was not some ploy by that hooded figure to leave him crushed and lifeless there among the boulders and raging waters. But just as it seemed that the pounding crash of the falls would block his way the path turned sharply inward and continued along behind the violent impenetrable wall of water.

An arched tunnel spread darkly before him and the booming echo from the falls receded into the silent darkness like some last utterance of a soon to be lost world. Illuminated by the light of his staff the walls revealed their runic surfaces aglow in deep amber. Milton traced the inscribed runes with his finger, their jagged lines bitten deep into the stone and reverberant with a subtle force wholly unknown to him. He continued deeper into the tunnel encircled by the dim glow from his staff, his footsteps falling on the very edge of that illumined perimeter. As he went on, a distinct chill pervaded the narrow space. The air grew sharper and the stone walls radiated a barrow-like cold.


As Milton continued the tunnel began to widen, the darkened stone walls retreating further into pitch black space and almost at once Milton perceived that he was within a vast cavern whose boundaries were lost to him and unseen. Slowly the light of his staff began to falter, a last mote of golden light dimming away on the shores of a measureless dark. Milton gave a loud word of command yet the light of his staff drained away to nothingness and he was left in a darkness absolute and implacable. He shifted warily on his feet with his staff still held aloft for all its purposelessness. There was no sound save for the close rustlings of his cloak as he turned again and yet again to attempt any vantage in that utter dark. The way back was as lost to him as any possible way forward.

Slowly from out of the surrounding obscurity a frail glow was congealing, taking on an indistinct form of silvered light that wavered barely perceptible in front of Milton. Squinting he moved to take a step toward the light but was suddenly halted by a staggering presence within his mind.
Wordlessly Milton was filled with the notion of a great threat, flashes of an ancient pain and of a timeless entrapment arose sharply and then gradually dissipated leaving only a leaden sense of despair.

Held fast by these unbidden forebodings Milton struggled to move, with great effort he managed to reach within his cloak and grasp one of the binding crystals concealed there. As Miltons fingers wrapped around the hard crystalline surface a brilliant clarity sheared the intruding presence from his mind. The task with which he had set himself and the return beyond hope that he sought now filled his mind, briefly freeing him from the moribund influence of that belighted incarnation.


In those vast surrounds Milton stood with the crystal in his palm glinting softly in the light of the shimmering spectre that floated before him. He felt once more the intrusion of the presence seep into his mind, yet instead of threatening pain Milton felt a questioning sense roam his thoughts and perhaps buried under countless dark ages a meagre, ever faint glimmer of hope. Milton pondered this momentarily and then bent and placed the crystal on the dark stone floor where it lay like some sacred offering gleaming in the ghostlight between wizard and apparition. A timidness flitted briefly through Miltons mind and then slowly he felt himself suffused with a sense of deep acceptance. Floating forward the spectre halted, lingering above the crystal. As Milton watched grains of light began to fall delicately from the hovering spectre onto the crystal below, as if within that deep cavern in the silent darkness there fell a gentle moonlit rain.

Yellow light blazed forth from Miltons staff as the last silver ember drifted down onto the crystal and was absorbed therein. He stooped to grasp the crystal and stood with it in his palm, gazing at it as it glowed with a seemingly benevolent inner luminance. By the light of his staff Milton made his way back through the dark tunnels until he could hear the thundering of the waters and he passed again through the Fallingway.


Shaded Spectre Layla of the Shaded Shores

## Stepping through the rift

Layla was meek, mild, morose. She lacked any form of gumption or ability. In a world where potential was unlimited she decided that ambivalence was her primary focus. Despicable.

The flame changed everything.

Layla now saw the world through different eyes, actual eyes. The Shaded Shores were not without their challenges, it was a hellish place, but a spirit residing there gained a level of resolve that most people could not comprehend.

The spectral landscape was permanent twilight, an eerie glow cast upon the ephemeral landscape. It was a barren wasteland with its inhabitants unable to properly affect the world around them. The best they could do was haunt each other torturing another soul was about as much entertainment as a shaded spectre could manage.

Entering the realm of the living was something Layla had dreamed about, escaping the never-ending purgatory. When the first burning happened you could feel the rift between the worlds, there was no way Layla was missing that, she transitioned into the realm of the living and was amazed.

Nothing she had imagined compared the vibrancy of reality. All of the colours were brighter than possible, the sounds of birds and the wind across the land, almost deafening, and the smell, well the smell of burning flesh was just delicious.

Watching those first people step willingly into the flame was confusing, why would anyone want to forgo the riches of this world? That was when she felt it, there were other souls here coercing, enticing people into the flames and when they stepped into it, they were born again their spectral forms made whole. She must have it.


There was a pull that Layla had never felt before, dragging her, so she let it take her, out of this tall tower she flew, still ethereal in form, across green plains, mountains and into the arid desert. A small cluster of tents and a woman sat alone crying.

She was pathetic, why was she crying what could possibly make someone cry? The thought of it was abhorrent.

Im not pathetic, there are loads of reasons to cry, I hate this place, I dont want magic, I dont want any of it anymore

It now dawned on the spectre, the reason she pulled here, was this thing really her. There were people here that could be led to the flame, to open the gates. The @wizard9999 would love this.


# The Lore of Ectoplasmic Spectre Amir of the Death Cloud

At first, it burned me, it hurt me.

For  many  years  my  master  told  me  that  power  was  it  all.  I  saw  him  caressing  that  little  flame trapped  in  the  sphere  like  a  mother  caressing  her  child.  When  he  went  to bed he  took the  sphere  to his  room and lay with it.

It hurt me.

He  was  like  a  father  to  me,  my  real  parents  died  after  some  accident  that  I  dont  remember. He  took  care  of  me,  fed  me,  and  taught  me  magic.  But  every  day  he  looked  at  the  if was another  child.

At  first,  I  was  curious  about  it,  then  I  started  to  feel  some  jealousy.


My  master,  no,  my  father was  taking  care  of  that  thing  more  than  me,  as  I  grew  older,  he  stopped  caring  about  me,  my lessons,  and  even  feeding  me.  I  learne d  to  do  things  on  my  own,  in  a  sense  that  was  a  blessing since  I  was selfsufficient before  I  was 18, but  a  kid needs love  and  attention. What is so special about that fire?  I  asked him  once  when we  were  eating, my plate with  a lot  more  food, he  was starting to eat lesser  and lesser. Why do you  care  about it so much? You  dont  understand,  he  said  without  taking  his  eyes  off  it.  I  do  not  care  what  makes  it special right now,  I  care  what it can be  in the  right  hands That was the last time  we  talk about it.


His  words  haunted  my  dreams  night  after  night.  I  wanted  to  find  a  meaning  to  what  he  said, the  potential  that  the  fire  had  alluded  to  me.  Was  it  that  powerful?  Could  a  wizard  control that kind of power?  And  what will he become if  he  did it? That  night I  took  the  fire  while  he  was  asleep.  I  grabbed  the  sphere  and  stare  into  the  green fire.  It  looked  at  me,  like  an  eye.  I  saw  colors,  images,  creatures,  all  within  the  dancing  of  the flames.  I  felt  its power.

I  dropped  the  sphere;  it  was  too  much  for  me.

It on my body It burned me.  It hurt me.

My master  woke  up  and look at me. Fool! What have  you done?!

The  crystal  shattered  at  my  feet.

The  fire  spread Master!  Help me!  I  screamed as the  fire  engulfed, melting my skin.


That was my  power!  he  shouted That was supposed to be mine! Rage  boiled  inside  me,  raising  even  from  the  pain  I  was  experiencing.  Even  when  I  was burning  to  death,  he  cared  more  about  the  fire  than  me,  he  only  cared  about  the  power  it  could give him. A symbol  appeared in front of me, a I  raised my hand  and drew the  rune.  transparent, floating in the  air.  Enduring the pain,

No!  Stop it!  he  yelled  as he  raised his hands to stop me.

 But  it  was  too  late.  The  symbol  appeared  between  us  and  the  pain  stopped.

 I  felt  all  the  fire in  my  body  raised  to  my  shoulders  and  then  to  my  head.  All  the  images  I  saw,  all  the knowledge  of  the  fire  poured  into  my  head.  My  master  saw  me  with  a  combination  of  fear and jealousy.

Nono

Do you want it?  I said,  noticing that my voice  changed

You  can have It" I  opened my hand  and my master  was now  engulfed in fire.


Lewd Revenant Hagar of Goblin town

# The Lore of Lewd Revenant Hagar of Goblin town

Hagar was just a run-of-the-mill pervert who terrorized the town's women with his Peeping Tom antics until one day he pissed off the wrong noblewoman's husband and found himself on the receiving end of the beating of his life. That wasn't what killed him though, he broke his neck when he fell off the stretcher on the way to the local hospital. But Hagar was a survivor, he still wasn't dead...not even when he contracted smallpox at the hospital while receiving treatment for his injuries...he actually recovered from all those mishaps, and in gratitude to the divine above, vowed to abandon his lecherous ways. He got his act together, read a book about how to be a proper gentleman, started courting a fine lass he met down at the tavern...then he contracted syphilis from her and died.

Now he runs around as an undead revenant bedecked in nothing but a loincloth with a flaming toad for a companion (rumor has it the toad will turn into a prince if someone kissed him, but to date no one has dared). Oh, and he's still obsessed with women. He knows magic now, and it amazes him how one well-placed Invisibility spell can elevate his voyeuristic escapades to levels far beyond what he was capable of back when he was still alive. Hagar has truly upped his game...no longer confined to one small village, he now lives in infamy as the terror of all nubile dames and damsels in the Forgotten Runes. He also no longer fears beatings from wrathful husbands because these tend to run screaming in the other direction as soon as they glimpse his skeletal visage.


But deep down, Hagar is still a romantic at heart and his greatest desire is to one day find himself a nice lady who accepts him despite all his personality deficits and settle down with her. House in the suburbs of Goblin Town, white picket fence, a few ghoulish children running around, maybe an undead cat...the whole shebang. He is stockpiling gold coins with the goal of amassing enough funds to hire the most famous matchmaker in all the lands to help him find his dream woman. In the meantime, there are lots of buxom babes in the Runiverse who need to be ogled, and no one is better at ogling than Lewd Revenant Hagar.


Wraith Knight Oberon of the Chasm

# The Lore of Wraith Knight Oberon of the Chasm

Wraith Knight Oberon was an optometrist in his mortal life. He's always loved and been fascinated by eyeballs since a very young age, and as an eye doctor, pioneered a magical eye treatment that used a low-intensity laser spell to cure myopia. The theory was sound, he was certain it would work, but the FRMA (Forgotten Runes Medical Association) rejected his application to initiate clinical trials of his procedure, citing safety concerns. Confident that his treatment would finally rid the Runiverse of unwieldy spectacles for good, but unable to obtain study subjects, Oberon decided to experiment on himself to show the naysayers that his procedure was both safe and efficacious. Unfortunately, he miscalculated the strength of the laser spell, and the resulting laser beam ended up shearing straight through his eye and into his brain, killing him instantly.

As a Wraith Knight, Oberon is still dedicated to purging the Forgotten Runes of the curse of nearsightedness, but now he's doing it by seeking out and murdering Runesfolk who wear glasses. At least no one can say he's not dedicated to his profession. Oberon collects the eyeballs of his victims as trophies, and especially likes the rare ones, which he ranks according to a trait and statistical rarity percentage chart of his own devising. He even launched his own business, which sells a currency he calls EyeCoin ($EYE) that allows investors to purchase a fractionalized ownership stake to his vault of accumulated eyeballs. Strangely, no one has expressed interest in buying any yet. Perplexed, Oberon hired a marketing firm who advised him to airdrop a few tokens to some of the most influential celebrities in the Runiverse to drum up demand, which he's currently crafting a spell to accomplish.


Oberon's grail is the all-seeing eye of an Illuminatus...by far the most potent and rarest of eyeballs, rumor has it there are only 24 of these in all the Forgotten Runes. They all belong to extremely powerful wizards, so he knows he has his work cut out for him, but Oberon is confident that one day he will be able to murder one of the Illuminati and finally obtain his long-desired treasure. So far he has not been successful in even finding an Illuminatus...as an avid eye collector and savvy investor, he has put the word out amongst all the cursed and damned creatures of the Quantum Shadow that he's willing to pay handsomely for any leads. Time will tell if these seeds will bear fruit, but he's keeping his fingers crossed!


Enchanter Lamia of the Grotto

# The Lore of Enchanter Bruin of the Hollows

Any and all scripture has been burned about Bruin- some say it was actually burned by Bruin himself- and the only rumor most hear- is that he was not human....


Toru the Video Ghost

#  Toru the Video Ghost

Now that he has escaped from Merlin's crystal ball, and unleashed his own true power, his story has just begun....free to roam, will he choose the side of Good or Evil?

For now he is free to have some fun before deciding his fate in the Runiverse.


Battlemage Drako of the Obelisk

# Where there is blood, there is life.

Virgin Blood? Now we are talking.

Drako roams the Runiverse in search of this elixir of youth - burning down villages with fire and destruction along the way.

Kempo, Floral Masters, and Coven Sisters.

There is no discrimination when selecting prey for this blood sucker. There is no stopping this mad vampyre until he achieves the most unimaginable of feats...

## Eternal life.


Arcanist Sahir of the Keep

# Arcanist Sahir: an Introduction

Greetings, curious reader! My name is Arcanist Sahir of the Keep. I once held a prestigious position at Big Potion Corp. (BPC). Senior Executive Assistant. The perks were delectable, let alone the hefty paychecks. Believe me, the salaries are even larger than the egos. However, it all went awry when I started speaking up about the compromised ethics of BPC's business practices. What a fool I was.

Before I knew it, I was in my boss's office unsuccessfully trying to look stoic while nervously adjusting my azure vest. *Breathe, Sahir, breathe! Just get through this long-winded lecture on "profit over all." What a slogan.*

"Sahir, didn't the Arcanum of the Sacred Pillars teach you anything?" inquired the Executive Director in a disinterested tone.

"Why, yes sir. I even made it to Division III Wizardry in the Magical Business Sphere," I defended. The Executive Director paid no mind to the reply. The silence began to feed on my anxiety, growing larger with each passing second.

"As of this moment, you are no longer a part of the BPC family. You may clear out your office and leave the premises within the hour, or be escorted out by the kobolds," stated the Executive Director with a cold stare. "In addition, the locks to your company suite will be changed before the start of next week. I suggest you vacate in haste."

I bit my cheek to prevent a laugh. *What family?* After 4 years at this company, I knew pleading my case to be a futile act. Although stunned, I resolutely marched out of the building, leaving my office and the personal belongings it contained behind.


*Where to now?* With company lodgings restricted, I decided that I should embrace my inner nomadic spirit and simply roam. In truth, that longing for adventure was always there but ever suppressed by a demanding academic path. I made the short trip to my suite, well, former suite, and grabbed only one item: my new travel companion. The ash wood peace staff that was a gift from leading negotiations in an acquisition.

I am currently exploring the lands. Well, as far as my savings will take me that is. The only consolation to all of this is that BPC never removed my security clearance to the corporate headquarters! I know it's petty, but I take small joy in periodically returning there to stock up on free snacks from the executive lounge. It's the small things in life.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/arcanist-sahir-567921229/


Alchemist Lumos of Dreams

# The Lore of Alchemist Lumos of Dreams

Actually Im surprised he listened at all but Id agreed to travel in his dreams until I found the dream that had been bothering him. Because he was Dwarzgarth I couldnt exactly say No. Between him and his companion Mina they have a presence that doesnt often take no for an answer.

I knew I would need to brew a powerful potion if it was going to have the potency to make the meaning clear.

I gathered the ingredients from around the Dream Master Lake making sure to avoid the Blue Wizard Bastion, as a Red Cleric Alchemist I didnt want to get into a discussion about who had the stronger potions, the red or the blue. Obviously my title as Lumos Of Dreams should have made it abundantly clear who had the power, but that didnt mean I wanted to debate it with a blue until both of us were blue in the face.

To collect the ingredients required the services of my faith companion Peabody, if you havent met him, he is an ember frog. He has the ability, with the aid of my Rune power, to collect the hottest of brimstone from the volcano by the Alchemist Archipelago. It is always a difficult journey. He has to make his way to the very edge of hottest lava and flick his tongue to catch a piece of the boiling brimstone. But once I have laid the charm on him through my Rune he is able to hold the piece in readiness until I need it to make my passion potion. The formula for this potion is hidden away in a book on apothecary that I have placed an invisibility spell on. The knowledge of dreams can be dangerous, and for this to fall into the wrong hands might be disastrous.


When people hear the word, passion potion they often think this just has to do with romantic feelings, and of course it is possible to brew such a potion, but there are many things in the world to be passionate about. The passion for knowledge, or the passion for truth, or the passion to see justice done for the weak, these are all strong forms of passion.

For Dwarzgarth the potion would be to aid him in his passion for knowledge about what his dream meant.

He explained it to me, but until Id walked the dream with the potion filling my mind I knew it was hopeless to even try and discern its meaning.

But he insisted so I let him tell it. Dwarsgarth began,

In my dream I was sitting comfortably in my favorite chair when suddenly there was a noise outside, an indiscernible mummer that grew to a rumble and by the time I arrived at the front door it had built to roar. I watched in amazement as thousands of images flashed before my eyes and suddenly one that resembled me flashed out and struck me. As I was knocked to the floor another image of a strange land passed before my eyes and a voice said, Home For thee, Home For Thine, Home for Thousands. Yet home for the one, thine only one. As I fell I expected to feel my head strike the floor but instead I found myself falling through space and then I realized I was flying, flying over the strange land. And then I awoke.

He couldnt make sense of any of if it, and so he had sought my services. I am The Lumos of Dreams after all, if I couldnt figure it out no one could.


As night fell I entered my chambers and laid full length on my illumination couch. I fixed the image of Dwarzgarth in my mind and drank down the potion. I laid back on the couch and waited for the effects to come, I didnt have to wait long. I was suddenly drawn down a long dark tunnel that quickly began to have wisps and streaks of light passing by. It was like falling into a deep well with dim lights flashing by. But suddenly with an almost cold splash I fully entered the world of dreams. The sense of speed and movement stopped as I was surrounded by a world of lights in every direction. Instead of falling I was floating and the lights began to take shape like soap bubbles of light. If I stopped to look carefully at any particular one I was able to look into it, to look into the dream of the person. But I wasnt here for just any dream, I had fixed my mind on a particular dream, and even though Dwarzgarth wasnt dreaming it right at the moment it didnt matter, in the world of dreams it would still be there, lingering for a long time because it was so powerful a dream.

Immediately upon thinking about it I spied it in the distance. It was brighter, and larger than any other dream I could see, and it pulsed with vibrancy and life. I approached it carefully making sure to not disturb it. I didnt wish to speak to Dwarzgarth in his dreams, though that was possible, I was only here as an observer but with the power of Lumos, the power to reveal the dream and its meaning, at least much of it.


I saw him sitting in his house and knew this to mean he had ceased traveling. Then the noise began outside and I saw it was going to be an act of creation. And at first just a few folks seemed interested and were speaking in a low mummer about it. But as excitement built the crowd increased until there was a great roar at the moment of creation. The images he had seen were images of Wizards, thousands of them, all different, all unique, and all created for one purpose. The one that came out of the collection was of course Dwarzgarth himself, he had been drawn out of his house and cast into this world. As he fell into the world he saw the map of the world and all of the various places he would explore.

The voice he heard meant the world thus created was for him, for his beloved Mina of the Forest, for their children, and for all the wizards. The one, thine only one was of course his son. A unique and special person of this world. I could sense the dream world wanted to reveal more to me, but this dream had told me all it could.

I awoke to tell Dwarzgarth, The world is yours to explore, it is the place you will find your son, he too inhabits this new land, though how you might find him will require you to have more dreams, perhaps in some future sleep.


Druid Crackerjack of Mu

# The Lore of Druid Crackerjack of Mu


Artificer Rook of Elysium

# The Lore of Artificer Rook of Elysium

What could self-cognizant lifeforms foresee

to gain in search of immortality?

In youth, Rook showed a certain skill with tools.

So much, his father filled his day with tasks

to validate his thesis to those fools

that beaks should not a worthy being mask.

Rook passed the course and won his bated breath:

an upright form - at cost of fathers death.

As decades passed, Rooks fears did not recede

of human judgment and its frightful tolls.

Ensconced away, obsessively hed read

of afterlives reserved for those with souls.

What possible options a corvid as he

of rescue except immortality?


Alchemist Hestia of the Hall

# The Lore of Alchemist Hestia of the Hall

Hestia, the third son of the Kings cousin never displayed any interest in the practice of the nobility. Each ball or party, he stayed inside his quarters, his nose deeply buried in his books. Luckily for him, the pressure to marry anyone of wealth or privilege wasnt as big a burden as was with his older brothers, but he was still expected to show a little interest in the intricacies of the court. Unfortunately, he didnt. When Hestia was a young adult rumors started flying around that he was dabbling into the arcane and the mystic arts, something that was forbidden at the court of his father by decree of the King and penalty of Death. No occurrence of strange happenstance could be without Hestia being around and once the well was transformed into a raging fountain of croaking frogs, his father had no other choice than to banish his own son from his realm.


But Hestia had plans of his own. Within the library at his fathers court, deep in the darkest corners of the library, he had found a tome. The work was called _De secretis mysticis: Alchemista vita et opus._ Translated, it was called: about arcane secrets: the life and work of an alchemist. He had been intrigued with the little book, not leaving the library for several days on end. He had learned about the theoretical possibilities of mixing different herbs and plants to create salves that could grant the user great strength, or poison him to the brink of death. He had learned which potions would prolong life, to induce paralysis and even to cure the common cold if he wished. But it was all theory, the book introduced means and methods that werent available in the open, things he hadnt heard from all across the realm. It had been his fortune that his eyes had fallen on the smallest footnote, only visible with a magnifying lense: Find the Halls of the Hallowed and youll find the secrets of Alchemy.

And thus, he wasnt disappointed or anxious when he had to leave his fathers court, instead he was determined to find these Halls of the Hallowed. The only problem was that he didnt have a clue if the place even existed or where it could be located. He traveled to harbor towns and grand cities, discussed the theories of drunk men and scholars and finally in a dark neck of the woods, he found the answers he was looking for. Written on an ancient scroll was the location of the Halls of the Hallowed.


The trek towards it was treacherous, filled with passages along ridges on mountains and swamps filled with horrific creatures but finally he stood before the gates granting access to the Halls of the Hallowed. In there, he found what he felt was always missing from his life, like-minded people. There were people there honing their craftsmanship in enchanting weaponry and armor, others were trying to find the solution in the stars or the entrails of animals but most interestingly, there was one other person like him. This man was known as Nyxos, a young one born out of wedlock in a small rural village. He told Hestia that ever since he was born, he didnt receive chance or opportunity and shade was thrown at the

bastard everywhere he went. Hestia felt the inner rage of his friend, not knowing of things to come.

They were unraveling the very fabric of matter together, experimenting in the laboratories below the Halls. At first, they managed small practices, turning concoctions into valuable potions that would save the life of many, but his friend was enchanted by one illusive craft, turning minerals into pure gold. They had stumbled upon the alchemic formula that was needed but were unable to decipher everything in there. But one unfortunate day, Hestia couldnt sleep, tormented by strange and dark dreams about his friend. He saw that the door of Nyxos room was open, and that his bed hadnt been slept in that night. Hestia started wandering the Halls of the Hallowed and found his friend in the laboratories. Nyxos was dressed in a black rope, fringed with purple thread and working on the strangest experiment he had ever seen.


Nyxos threw a potion at the ground, and from there Fiends and skeletal warriors rose, and held Hestia captive. Nyxos explained that in order to amass wealth through transformation of minerals, there was one ingredient he needed, the blood of a gifted person. Understanding the implications of what was happening, Hestia managed to drop a smoke bomb he concocted earlier and made his escape. Later he learned that the army of undead Nyxos had created, destroyed the Halls and all its occupants were killed.

Now, the story picks up years later, in a time where Hestia had been hidden from Nyxos eye. Hestia had found ancient secrets, runes and recipes, trying to find a way to stop his former friend and it is only now that he leaves his hideout. He has heard of rumors of a dark lord rising through the ranks of a neighboring country, empowered by an army that seemed like it could not die. The final battle between Hestia and Nyxos will soon commence. A battle between the Alchemist and the Necromancer, a battle that can ultimately decide the fate of the realm.


Sorcerer Amir of the Mount

# 7th Epoch of the Immolation, 36th Moon, 14th Sun

#### Fireside Tribes,

I am Emir, Sorcerer Priest of the Shining Mount.

The stoking has failed.

Some foul corruption interrupted the sacred rite, seizing many of our order with violent madness.  The remaining sorcerers sealed the Holy Flame within the warded sanctum before retreating through the Labyrinth. As I write in the outer cloister I can hear the raving, cackling demons scratching at the sealed gate, taunting us as they eat the corpses of our brethren.

We remind you that the brotherhood of the Shining Mount has portaled the Flame to your far flung lands for many centuries.  The icewalkers in Heimburgsgate enjoy transmissions of warmth. The Kooplings below the Rock need not fear the deep dark when the mirror tunnels shine.

The Flame burns for now, but it begins to flicker.

For our light and flame, for our duty and ardor, we have tithed the bounties of your blessed lands.  We must ask this time for something more dear.  Send us your bravest souls: the clearest of mind and most inspired of magickers.

All wizards who can face madness and death must accept this duty!

A darkness is upon us, rending the great flow into forking paths of destiny and doom.  When your descendants hear tales that the Holy flame was once beset by shadow, will they say that you offered yourself as kindling for the stoking?

_Emir, Sorcerer Priest of the Shining Mount_

## 7th Epoch of the Immolation, 51st Moon, 7th Sun

#### Fireside Tribes,

Have you grown fat on our blessings of light and heat?  Are your sons and daughters so sure of their inheritance?


Few among you have rendered aid to the Shining Mount.  Perhaps you think our Light is no longer needed? That your remote lands can thrive without us?  Shame.

The brave few who have answered burn brightly:

The Koopling Hobbs of the Rock [5845] dazzles the maddened ghouls as we reclaim the labyrinth, bloody chamber by bloody chamber.

Oberon of the Ice [2473] booms thunder to cow the rambling mad into stunned silence.

They are young magickers ready to stoke the flame with their very souls.  While they suffer for us all, are you comfy in your roost, anon?

_Emir, Sorcerer Priest of the Shining Mount_

## 7th Epoch of the Immolation, 69th Moon, Eleventeenth Sun

#### Fireside Tribes,

Despite your reluctance to serve with body, we have received your tithes and used them to hire a professional adventuring company, the Rod and Rabbit, led by the famous Alatar.

The outer labyrinth is cleared.  We are preparing to assault the inner sanctum where the ghouls work to penetrate at the wards protecting the Sacred Flame.

We ask for one last token of support: at the eleventh hour on the first night of the 70th Moon, open your portals to their greatest draft, and pour your reserves of bright magicks into the re-kindling.  We do not have enough sorcerer priests to stoke the flame without your help.

For the good of our lands we must unite in the flame once again.  Open your portals and open your vision to the blazing of the holy light!

_Emir, Sorcerer Priest of the Shining Mount_

## 7th Epoch of the Immolation, 70th Moon, 5th Sun.

#### Subject Nations of the Shining Mount,


#### Subject Nations of the Shining Mount,

I am Alatar of the Bastion writing on the official letterhead of the Shining Mount.  Restoration efforts are underway.  Rod and Rabbit clean up troops have been dispatched to your locations to eradicate any leakage.

**Until further notice DO NOT open your portals!**

These are hard times.  With cooperation and strict discipline, we will survive.

_Grandmaster Alatar_ [2071]


Enchanter  of the Keep

# The Lore of Enchanter  of the Keep

"Never ride a horse named Frog," he mumbled, entering the room with a smash and creek of the door.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"I was down at the Elysian Fields, taking my prize pony out. I knew something was off. That Archmagus Pumlo was drunk again and laughing in the corner. He turned his frog into a horse that looked just like mine, and it bucked me off!"

The Enchanter rummaged through his papers and spellbooks furiously, stacking them as he went.

"I'm fine, but no wizard will use these spells again on my watch. At least without first proving their worthiness by solving the Keep's Perplex. Let's see Pumlo pull make a fool of me again!"

"But won't that kind of magic cost you something?"

"Yes, I suppose so... Creating space in the Keep, I shall also create space in my name. I am no longer the Enchanter, but the Enchanter  of the Keep."


Archmagus Apollo of El Dorado

# The Lore of Archmagus Apollo of El Dorado

Archmagus Apollo is a powerful wizard but prefers the simple life around the shop. He can normally be found beyond the portal in New Tokyo where he holds the rank of Guild Master of the Tools Guild.

He loves when travelers stop by for a chat and will happily make time for tea for guildmembers and travelers alike!


Sorcerer Apollo of the Riviera

# EGG! EGG! DO YOU SEE MY PRETTY EGG?

"Ah, don't mind him. Apollo has gone a bit crazy since his... encounter. He's harmless, but I do miss his old spirit." - Renoldo the Slime


Artificer Udor of Limbo

# The Lore of Artificer Udor of Limbo

My dearest Penelope,

Im starting to lose count of how many Moons have passed since I last saw you. Twenty? Thirty? Maybe more? There are many nights I lay awake thinking of our time together studying the scrolls in the Great Library. The way youd let your hand brush against mine as you handed me parchment. The coy way youd stare at me across the study chamber. The way my heart would race as we snuck kisses in the dark after the Master Artificers had laid to rest for the night. It was rushed and it was hidden... but it was real.

But alas, our love is just as impossible now as it was in that cold athenaeum. Just as forbidden but now thrice as difficult due to the miles between us. But it shall not be so forever, my love. For after I have completed my quest through the Seventh Realm we shall never have to hide again.

Never again will we cower to arrogant men. Men who are so blinded by their sacrifice to the way of the artificer that they cannot see the grand purpose of the magic they play with. Never again will we bend the knee to their dying traditions. Traditions that sought to teach detachment from love but succeeded only in teaching detachment from purpose.

Penelope, I tell you the truth when I say that I have learned more by crossing the sea than I ever learned in halls of study. And since the day my feet first touched this foreign soil I have never stopped growing in strength. I have seen abilities that dwarf even the greatest Masters that we studied under. Ive crafted charms that can bend rivers. I have forged sigils of power that could smite the keepers of the high crypt!