CHATTY LILAC
              Stop!

Rodolfo freezes in place.

The mountain winds whistle.

The lilacs on the field dance with the breeze.

Rodolfo releases the mystical mug of ale from his fist and it drops to the ground.

CLUNK.

Chatty Lilac flies into the sky and does a few loops.

For the first time, Rodolfo sees something new. Hes watched his crackerjack crow maneuver in a peculiar pattern for years.

The crackerjack crow soars towards the clouds and does a loop, then twirls into a forward summersault, before diving back down.

Chatty Lilac has flown into a HEART PATTERN in the Forgotten Runes sky.

                        RODOLFO
              Oh. My my my. The Mystic Spirits of the Wild.

The crackerjack crow drifts toward Rodolfo and gently lands on his right shoulder.

                        CHATTY LILAC
              Squawk!

Rodolfos shoulders sink in disappointment.

Was he hearing things?

He looks at her with eyes loaded with eternal thoughts.

Then begins to stumble forward with the sun pulsating on his tan skin.

Rodolfo turns to look at his crackerjack crow still perched on his shoulder waiting for her to speak.

Silence.

TEARS TRICKLE down his beaten face and cracked lips.

                        RODOLFO

             (whispers)
             Wounded on the river

             The water and the blood

             And I'm dying with the thirst

             But will never give up

FADE TO BLACK.


Void Disciple Zane of Xanadu

# Void Disciple Zane of Xanadu & The Sealed Tear

Raised by the Toy Maker in the dark art of dimensional tearing, Zane was destined to be one of the most feared wizards in history. One day he created a tear into another dimension and was exposed to incomprehensible power. The tear quickly closed but an image from the other side - shown below - was burned into his mind. He has made it is his goal to return to that dimension and take the power he witnessed for himself ever since.

"A symbol of The Sun? Maybe a message? The Sacred Flame may be the answer, and give me the power needed to reopen that tear. I will finally take what is mine!"


Magus Ilyas of the Swell

# The Lore of Magus Ilyas of the Swell

Lost I was within the ocean swells that near-capsized me. I began to pray that if I passed alive through soaking hell I wold serve the greater good for all my days; think not of pleasure or profit. When the storm spit me onto the shore, I wept with thanks and walked into a tavern to get warm. A mug of ale, a hearth with embers, lost in thought. A fire is more than opposite of water. It creates new life. The whole world is a lonely shore, like water, coursing through trickles and spates. To burn, to toil and spin my tale. Pondering whether to throw myself into the sacred flame.


Grim Reaper

# The Lore of Grim Reaper

666


Adept Jean Leon of the Tower

# Jean Leon: Trader of Souls

All his life, all that Jean Leon knew was the Secret Tower. Jean Leon's very first memory was when he found Misty, his feline familiar waking him from the hazziness of hunger and feeding him a dead rat. From that point onwards it was always Jean Leon and Misty against the world.

Growing up, Jean Leon mostly kept to himself and stayed away from the other Secret Tower orphans. He traded and he stole to survive same as everyone but he always knew how to make a profit. By the age of 16, Jean Leon traded his way up and bought his first cellar in the Tower. While Jean Leon reveled in his accomplishment, Misty was growing weaker throughout the years.

In an effort to seek remedy for Misty, Jean Leon decides to scower the Tower and find a cure for Misty. One shoul never underestimate the secrets hiding within the Tower, for the Tower has endless corridors and endless secrets.

On the night of the 13th moon, Jean Leon uncovers a skull mask from an dungeon. On the mask, he find this inscrbition:

" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "

   A drop of blood for a window into the soul

" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "

"Blood?" Jean Leon thought, "my blood?". In his mind Jean Leon knew, the mask needed his blood to unlock its secrets. Something deep within him knew, he needed to do this to save Misty.


Jean Leon slowly put on the mask, but nothing happens. He grabbed his pocket knife and sliced his right cheek. With blood flowing down his face, the mask quickly reacted. In an instant, the mask flew to Jean Leon's face and enveloped his skull, digging deep into his brain. For a moment, Jean Leon saw the sky beyond the Tower, something he thought he would never see. When Jean Leon regains conciousness, he finds Misty on the ground, lifeless. Beside misty's gray fur, a white familiar resembling Misty's movements flowed and twirled in the air. Jean Leon immediately recognized his lifelong friend. The mask has granted Jean Leon sight, sight to the World of Souls.


Hedge Wizard Buttons of the Bastion

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Buttons of the Bastion

One cannot fight evil badly dressed, you know. A well-cut waistcoat, oxblood broques are standard. For a battle, it is best to come prepared. The calumnies of rogues say all adventurers, uncouth, unclean, unmannered, often fail. I disagree most heartily. My frog knows what I mean - triumphant justice is so dear to me that I have studied fire, and what it means to be consumed by flames. What if death is merely change and your burn transforms you to something pure and clean and magnifies your strength? I know not the answer until I pass through the sacred flame. If that is to become my fate, I will discover what it means to offer my soul.


Archmagus Milo of the Capital

# The Lore of Archmagus Milo of the Capital

Milo was born to hardworking farmers who lived and worked their farm just outside the Infinity Veil. Life on the farm was difficult and tedious for Milo as he wanted to study magic from an early age. His parents had told him to never, ever enter the Veil and being a good child he tried his best to follow their directive. One day when he was about 9 he accidentally ventured across the veil border and discovered he suddenly had magical powers! This led to a secret obsession with spending time within the Veil's mysterious boundaries.

  Milo's adventures within the Infinity Veil lasted for quite some time unbeknownst to his parents. Then on the day he turned 16 there came a knock on the door of the farmhouse. It seemed that his forays had not gone unnoticed by the keepers of the flame in Red Wizard's Capital. The Archmage had decided Milo was ready for further instruction in the art of magic. His parents were sad to see him go, but they knew it would be impossible to ask him to stay on the farm. Milo couldn't contain himself and accidentally set a hedge of Juniper on fire when he heard the news.

  At the capital his talents were honed and his abilities tested. He spent 25 years studying both the light and dark arts. During his academic studies he discovered a new magical art he called "Infusion Magic". He would start the spell with a single drop of alchemical material and weave the magic around it. Then when it was fully charged he would put the single drop into a vessel and channel the built up magical energy to immense effect. This monumental achievement earned him the title of "Archmagus Milo of the Capital".


He put all of the knowledge of this art into a single book which he carries on his person at all times. This is the only copy of the book in existence and he has yet to find a suitable and worthy apprentice to teach. He now travels the lands in search of someone who deserves to be taught "Infusion Magic".


Archmagus Azahl of the Plains

# The Lore of Archmagus Azahl of the Plains

Archmagus Azahl of the Plains, the Brown Hat wizard, is a student of ancient Azahls whose extensive knowledge in the arcane sciences are the envy of even the most powerful magicalists. This talent combined with his loyalty to the Azahl clan has made him a humble, powerful wizard. Yet he is a simple man and loves his clan, his family, and his little brother. His only other weakness is his tendency to get lost in the woods while daydreaming.

Through the years, Azahls across the world have continued to hone their skills. In every castle and town in every part of the world, an Azahl has taken up his or her post, representing the people and keeping them safe.

# Back Story:

Archmagus Azahl has spent most of his life learning the arcane arts. Since the day he was born, hes dedicated his life to helping people , no matter the personal cost to him.

At a young age, Archmagus Azahl trained to become an apprentice of the mysterious Azahl known as the Dancing Turtle. For more than fifteen years, the Dancing Turtle has taught him the arcane arts, guiding him to understand the importance of protecting his people.

Upon mastering the mystical arts, his first mission was to leave his small town in the Hedge Wizard Wood and find his way to the Psychic Leap. When he arrived he found that a mysterious force had damaged the Psychic Leap, creating a rift in the cosmos. Azahl quickly realized that the rift was growing larger and larger by the day, and if it was not stopped it would threaten all the land.


The Purple Wizards, meanwhile, were unwilling to take action. Disheartened by this, Azahl turned his talents to preventing the rift from spreading beyond the Hue Master's Pass. Although he had not mastered all the Arcane Magic available to him, Azahl had the Rune of Brimstone and used his techniques to set up wards against the rift. The wards quickly alerted the surrounding wizard community of the threat, who joined forces to close the rift together.

Thus, Archmagus Azahl of the Plains became known to some wizards as the humble protector of the Psychic Leap.


Alchemist Adium of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Alchemist Adium of the Cosmos

Poiso i as poo es: a p
cn enrvat th spirit, prlong out

Hurried letters slide off the page,
a thousand penstrokes belie master
sage.

d o weep dus fm yes, embldn th.
Tre, nd the hrb lows, vntlly ss

with agents mixed with callous greed,
journey heedless astride a wild steed.

wiout the tiote. A mgt ol
cncced ith albic nd retort

the plan was wrong, he did not survive,
no effort of Adium's could contrive

so lwly, careful. Poso s spr
t wickedes. Th sorm s a fl

a negation of this evil miasma,
no collecting of wise diaspora

wo uns elong to batte. Blad nd sield
n rmr ony do so mch agaist
 greer foe. ad pk no  fence

no ally would touch such sordid aura
no sage would negate the alive part of

an nle ld spil barren  te fd
r mdness. Dop in we, nd un awy,
th alchmist suvivs othr ay.

a wicked spectre, unfettered by bone.
The alchemist's apprentice was alone.


Zelroth of the Valley

# The Lore of  Zelroth of the Valley

Zelroth of the Valley did not wish for the notoriety he achieved, it was thrust upon him at birth, warred with as a youth, accepted as an adult and tuned to devastating results as a master. All throughout the valley, the children's songs tell of the soul eater and his amphibious companion, but few know the truth behind the tale:

_What's that tickle in the night?_

_Don't wake, don't wake because with sight_

_Zelroth will steal your pure, young soul_

_So shut your eyes and sleep tonight._

Zelroth was born to a young maiden of the Valley, unattached and self-sufficient. Zelroth's mother was beautiful but aloof and spurning of the Valley men's affections. When the maiden fell pregnant, the Valley chattered with confusion and her many suitors wondered who had won her prized affections.

A perfectly happy baby, loved by his mother, Zelroth was tenderly raised and schooled from a young age. As a boy, he was a tenacious, boisterous Valley lad --- a trickster at school but kind and loyal to his friends.

Zelroth lived a quiet, normal life with his mother until the winter afternoon in his twelfth year, when he discovered the truth behind his parentage.


On this day, returning home in the evening through the Valley's outskirt streets in the first snow, Zelroth heard a hoarse croak and saw a flash of flame disappear behind two trees. As he drew closer, he heard louder croaks and grew concerned for frogs seemed out of place this time of year. Peering to track the source of the sound, he came face with a blood red amphibian, twice the size of any frog he'd ever encountered. Zelroth locked eyes with the frog and immediately felt a tug from within, almost as if his insides were being pulled from his body and toward the creature causing an excruciating and immobilizing pain. But as soon as it seemed to start, the feeling subsided and he felt in his mind's eye a voice;

_"It is I, Zelroth, your father. Long have I waited for this day to come! Do not be frightened by my appearance, this is only the current vehicle for my personage. Now that you have come of age, I am appearing to you to collect your mother's promise to me."_

Zelroth stirred in the connection, feeling a tremor down his spine. The voice was present and calm, its focus unwavering.

_"Death, as I am known, is inevitable. As your mother begged to stave me off until she could raise a child of her own, I relented. On the condition you be returned to me in your twelfth year. You see, I need agents of my making to pursue the collection of pure souls --- wizards who can track the finest souls and capture them for my kingdom before they are snatched up by my rivals in the heavens."_

Zelroth, the youth that he was, quaked with fear in this discovery and hated his mother for not revealing the truth. With all his strength, he mustered;


_"But I am just a simple boy of the Valley, not a wizard. Please release me from this horrible fate!"_

The frog replied; \_"It is too late, you are promised to me and I shall accompany you throughout your days, collecting pure souls who feast their eyes upon me in the night. You were never born a normal boy, you are a Wizard, Zelroth. Your powers shall be known to the world and you will be feared for the devastation they bring."\_

The frog's maniacal laughter rang through his brain and Zelroth fell back powerless in the fresh snow, into a cold, dark sleep.

As the stories tell, Zelroth began his training with Death --- equal years in number to his life thus far. He developed his powers to rip the souls from the most pure, feeding them in turn to his constant companion, a blood red frog.

From his 24th year onward, Zelroth has roamed the Valley, haunted its streets like a tickling wind, waiting until the darkest hour of night for a soul to wake. And when the restless sleeper opens their eyes, unsuspecting of Zelroth's presence, his dark powers harness and tear the soul from the living to the dead.

The Valley has been Zelroth's these last hundred years and as the children's songs foretell, death swiftly comes to those who are pure of heart who enter here.


Mystic Milton of Atlantis

# The Lore of Mystic Milton of Atlantis

I

**Shadows of the deep earth.**

Standing among the trees Milton could feel the dusk damp rising from the forest floor. The shadowed branches seemed to draw closer, finger-like, as the darkness quickened. With a silent command the staff in his hand begun to glow with a golden light, casting a soft sphere of illumination around him as he continued deeper into the woods.

He made his way past raising mounds and through the thickening wood following his path with surety, yet it was a path not at all visible to man or beast. Rain flashed crystalline against the light of his staff as he emerged into a clearing scattered with large stones that stood, seemingly alert, in the hushed space.

Milton approached a stone near to the centre of the clearing and placed his hand against the rain-slicked surface. At first cold and wet to the touch Milton could soon feel a subtle warmth seep from the stone across his palm. A steady thrum began to issue from the central stone and Milton perceived an aspect of wisdom to this emanation, an appeal to an older, inner life.

Taking a small shard of milkstone from his cloak Milton quickly traced a few lines on the stone's surface, a downward facing triangle with a thick band across the middle section.

The humming of the stone which had filled the clearing abruptly ceased. Milton stepped back and waited expectantly. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the surface of the stone began to shimmer. Milton raised his staff to the stone, the staff's light seemed to pass through the stone itself and illuminate a series of rough hewn stone steps that descended steeply into the earth itself.

_'So it is true'_ Milton thought to himself as he tugged the brim of his hat and started down the dark stone stairs.

                                                                     \*\*\*


\*\*\*

The beast had lingered here, under earth, longer than its own mind could even contain. Once a creature of the forest, of riverbank and sky, it had been leeched of life and light here, as darkness enfolded upon darkness in a forgotten place of the world. And so darkness became its sustenance, its succour.

The beast lumbered these caverns, stalking between pillars of black rock, becoming attuned to the depth of the earth. Yet now after time unaccounted a light came into the beast's realm, to offend and harm. At first recoiling from this illuminated intruder the beast kept its distance, avoiding the golden glow as it moved slowly through the cavern. But a hatred was quickly mounting within the beast, the light was searing and brought pain. The beast had shifted behind the sphere of light, treading near upon the edge of the dark and its only thoughts now were of violence against that light and a return to the comfort of unperturbed darkness.

                                                                      \*\*\*

Milton felt a shift in the darkness behind him, a slight vibration and suck of air. Turning, he raised his staff just as a black form lurched from the darkness and slammed against him with an animal-like scream, knocking him off his feet.

Lying on his back Milton quickly extended his staff and gave a loud command. A pulse of intense light blazed through the cavern, briefly illuminating the earthen upper surface and rock pillars in a harsh white light. Another scream rung out and the sounds of desperate scrapping and digging echoed around the cavern.


Milton heaved to his feet with a grunt, he fumbled a pouch on his belt and drew out a handful of powder which he threw in the air around him. The powder hung, suspended, silvery in the air and filled the cavern with a feeble light. Steadying himself with a rough pillar behind his back, Milton peered into the half lighted depths of the cavern. He could hear a slow determined scraping sound that seemed to be approaching from directly ahead.

From his cloak Milton drew a small clear crystal and held it in his palm. He stared at it intensely as if quickly trying to solve some arcane riddle or equation. With a flick of his wrist Milton sent the crystal flying out in front of him into the depths of the cavern, where it burst into a twisting vortex of fiery white energy.

There came an agonising wail as Milton saw a jagged black shape thrashing and fighting against the flaming current of the spinning vortex. Screams filled the cavern and resounded in the depths, as the dark creature struggled against the turbulent enveloping light. Milton deftly traced a pattern of lines in the air and in an instant the vortex folded in upon itself, dragging the writhing dark shape into a single point of white light, which promptly blinked out.

With a soft clink the crystal dropped to the stone floor. Milton warily advanced to retrieve it. The crystal - once clear and bright - now seemed dimmed by a black mist that swirled slowly and constantly within it.

Milton grasped the crystal and placed it gingerly within the folds of his cloak. Standing in the silvery light between pillars of dark rock Milton dusted off his trousers and adjusted his wide brimmed hat.

_The First_ He thought to himself with a sense of grim satisfaction.


Sage Hind of the Brambles

# The Lore of Sage Hind of the Brambles

Sage Hind of the Brambles was not always his name, he used to be a man like you or me. Growing up in the fine city of The Blue Wizards Bastion he lived a fairly normal life indescimante from any other, but he knew he had a calling beyod any ordinary man. Always intrigued by the Fey that was only a hop and skip away, it always encapsulated his mind and what wonders it lay. Tired of the city bustle, one day he took the leap of faith that is needed by all to find one's true self. He left the safety of the town that used to be his home. All he brought with him was his sleeping bag, one weeks worth of food, and a trusty ruby trinket that his father had given him. He was off to explore the Fey that had called to him all this time.

With his expidition away, it wasn't what he was expecting. He found out that mother nature can be a cruel and unforgiving mistress, but he endured through it all knowing that this was where he was supposed to be. On one of his days of travel he felt something...something calling him stronger than ever before. As he waded through the thick branches and bushes of the Fey feeling the aura grow stronger within him, he stumbled upon a rock. The rock had a strange rune and an even stanger glow emminnating from it. As he approched closer he knew that this is what had been calling him all this time. As he approched closer and closer to the strange rune it grew brighter and brighter and then a flash. The glow dimmed from the rock and grew on his ruby trinket. Whatever power it held it had been transmuted to his ruby. He then picked up the closest stick and put the ruby on display at the very top.


As he continued to treck through the Fey, the perrils of nature faded as his knowlege grew. The power from his ruby was being imbued within himself. He was now easily able to forage for his own food and the common animals came up to him as if they were friends. A peculiar brown bunny stuck around longer than most and became his companion. As weeks became months and months had become years, the man had become beast. No longer having any ties to who he once was, he was now one with the Fey. He was now home.


Arcanist Angus of the Astral Plane

# The Lore of Arcanist Angus of the Astral Plane

The most influential 49 wizards don the prestigious Celestial Sash, signifying their political influence and status across the lands. Members come from a wide array of backgrounds. Some were born into power; others had to master their craft, further their magical abilities, and consolidate substantial wealth. It is some sight when the Senate converges upon the Red Wizard Capital once a red moon to share research and knowledge their assistants have been gathering on what occurs within the Quantum Shadow and all other dark forces in the world. Each Sash's fibres contain beads handcrafted by Kobold's from ancient stars and planets. Members harness the vibrations of said beads as they desire. Some for good, others for the darkest, most vile evil.

Some members of the Senate were burnt due to unrest in the group as these members became more and more powerful. These individuals can be identified by their Ethereal or Phantasm Sash. No one knows what they are planning, how much they know, or where they reside. What is known, however, is that they are coming back.

Angus joined the Senate many moons ago. Born into wealth, Angus needed gold and jewels.   As the old question goes, what do you get the man that has everything?  He soon grew tired of his comforts and lifestyle; having the world at your feed but not being genuinely content with oneself makes it unbearable.

One summer night, Angus vanished like the sun over The Salt. He grew to appreciate life in its simplest form. Small animals, insects, and even fungi and plants. Angus swore off ever ending a life for consumption.

After a few years, he returned to his place in the Senate. His face is sunburnt, and his hair all but gone. Seeing the number of winters he has, Angus brings a valued perspective of a love for life, nature, and the things money cannot buy.


Aldus of the Desert

# 15 December MMXXI

 After weeks of searching for what many now believe was a myth, I can now say my journey was not in vain. Alas, I found the ruins of the Lost Coven. Much has been forgotten about this coven, and even their true name remains a mystery. All that remains are the words of the elders and the great calamity the coven brought to this land long ago.

If the words of our elders are true, what lies ahead is the lair of the most wicked magic coven known to wizards. Some say this Coven is where Quantum Shadow magic began, others say that Quantum Shadow Magic was only the beginning of the darkness that the coven would practice. As I trek closer, I feel the darkness that once (and possibly still) lived here. I must be careful of what lies before me, as the force that pulls me closer may have been the same force that led this coven to eternal oblivion.

In the case that I do not make the journey ahead, let these words be a warning for all those who read. I pray that Zephyrus looks favorably on me tonight and grants me safety, as the evil within the walls of this lair may have not wanted to be discovered.


Chaos Mage Giuseppe of El Dorado

# The Lore of Chaos Mage Giuseppe of El Dorado

Giuseppe lived in a land forgotten. What once was a thriving society built on a mountainside that towers at the far reaches of the Sands, is now a small withered shanty town with a few hopeful miners still wishing to strike big. A town that was brimming so full with golden ore it was simply called El Dorado. When first discovered, the hillsides were so abundant in gold that it attracted nomads, knights, and even high wizards from as far as the Alchemists Archipelago. But word caught on too quickly and soon enough the gold started to deplete. Along with the Sands growing each year and the desert encompassing more and more of the foothills. El Dorado eventually became a faint memory; Too far off the map to even think twice about.

Giuseppe didn't mind though. He was born in El Dorado and the farthest hes traveled has only been to Zaros Oasis. As far as he was concerned, it beat the empty desert. His parents migrated to El Dorado while his mother was still pregnant. Hoping to create a better life for their future family. They made it to the City with only years to spare before the gold would be gone for good. Giuseppe remembers a fair childhood but each year getting harder than the last. Each year having less gold to sell. Now there just wasn't any gold left to mine. His parents cant even afford the provisions to make it back through the Sands. They keep digging though, still hopeful.


Even though he didnt mind living in El Dorado, it broke his heart to see his parents struggle each year. In his teens Giuseppe would help his parents in the mines. But going into his twenties he could no longer see the point in working so hard for no reward. Despite his better judgment, Giuseppe started to turn tricks. While his parents would go out to the mines, he would head into the town centre and on a corner, next to one of the few buildings that werent boarded up. He would perform !magic. Nothing like the kind when wizards used to live in El Dorado, but enough to still impress the locals that have only heard stories from beyond the Sands. Giuseppe knew he wasnt a wizard but was smart enough to make it seem that way. He made masterful illusions and performed incredible sleight of hand tricks. He would wager bets and pickpocket his audience while they were left astonished after a performance. To make sure he would never be recognized or caught, he always wore a mask. It was a mask passed down from his mothers side. An heirloom he never understood. It was carved to look like the face of a skull. As a kid it used to scare him, but at least now it adds to the illusion he figured.


One day, after a simple grift, Giussepe was heading home. He had just used his winnings to pick up food for his family and was fairly on edge. He couldn't shake off the feeling someone was following him. Pretty worried that someone he duped was catching on to him, he decided to keep his mask on to protect his identity. He also took an alternate route home because he was afraid he would bring harm to his parents for his own misdoing. Right when he felt that no one could possibly still be following him he stumbled onto a scrawny stray white cat. It seemed to have come out of nowhere.. Have you been the one following me this whole time? he said to the cat. It just looked back at him with a beady red stare. Giussepe noticed the ribs of the cat and decided to give her a little food. He soon regretted the decision because now he really couldnt shake the cat off. The last thing he needed was another mouth to feed. Well let's head home before it gets too dark.. Then we can decide what to do with you tomorrow. he said.


On their way home, right as Giussepe started to feel relaxed again, he heard an Excuse me that sent a chill down his spine. He turned around to see a strange woman in a red wizard cap and an actual solar staff. Giusseppe looked at her in stunned silence.. _A real wizard,_  he thought. And before he could say a word, as if reading his mind, she said I am an Enchanter, I come from the Reach. Without even thinking Giusseppe responds If you've come for gold youre about 10 years too late. The enchanter just looked at him puzzled. She looked down at the cat Is this your cat? she asked. Giussepe then looked down at the cat and the cat stared back with the same beady red stare as before. I guess.. He responded. Well that settles it then. You _ARE_ a wizard! She exclaimed. Giusseppe immediately was taken aback. Did she watch his performance today? How could he convince an actual wizard his tricks were real? What does the cat have to do with this? Listen I think- he says as he breaks eye contact with the cat to only realize no one is there anymore. Now starting to feel really on edge, he and the cat rushed home.


Immediately upon arriving home Giuseppe is bombarded by his mother Where have you been? And why are you wearing that mask? You know it's been passed down for generations, you better be careful! Giuseppe had forgotten he was even wearing it. Where did this cat come from-Oh that doesnt matter right now, you won't believe what your father struck today his mom continued. Gold? he responded, being the only word he could get in. There's no way it could be gold, he thought.. Before his mom could finish talking his dad stepped into the room with a chunk of ore so big it needed two hands to carry. The small family might finally be able to move out of El Dorado and out of the ever growing desert. That night they celebrated. And Giuseppe forgot all about his weird walk home.


Giuseppe woke up in a cold sweat that night. Something was wrong, the cat was scratching at the door. He got up to let the cat out and as soon as he opened the door he was met with a cold breeze and a putrid smell. Immediately he worried for his parents, he thought about the lengths people would go to steal that ore from them. He rushed to his parents room with his cat in tow right behind him. Upon entering their room he saw an empty bed, at the foot of their bed was the same wizard from earlier, holding the gold ore in her hands. WHERE ARE MY PARENTS?! He shouted at her. But she just continued to look at the ore. Is this some sick joke because I'm not actually a wizard? What are you doing here!? He fretted. Giuseppe was hoping this was some bad dream. He noticed in his mom's old vanity he was still wearing the mask. Was this a dream? He never put it back on after getting


a dream? He never put it back on after getting out of bed. The enchanter finally responded, Ive told you, you are a wizard. Giuseppe stared back blankly at her. What?? Do you want me to admit it? That its all a show? That I'm a swindler performing cheap tricks!? he responded angrily. Just please, give me back my parents.. We were gonna move out of this place She looked back down at the ore. I wish I could tell you where they were, she said. But there are  powers at work here beyond even my understanding. Giuseppe grew even more frustrated. THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE?! he cried. The enchanter looked up from the ore and looked him dead in the eyes. For you. She responded by lifting up the ore in between them.  Giuseppe noticed it was glowing now. ..what? was all he could get out. He was tired, scared, weary, and without thought or hesitation he was holding the ore with her.


or hesitation he was holding the ore with her. Before them the gold grew brighter and brighter, eventually turning bright orange then glowing white. The gold was actually smelting between their hands. Too bright to look directly at but felt almost cool to the touch. He looked back up and she was still looking him in his eyes. All I can tell you, is you _ARE_ a wizard, and not just any wizard. You are a _CHAOS MAGE_ no less. When Giuseppe looked back down he was the only one holding the gold now. It had taken the shape of a perfect cut star. The world grew darker around him and he became dizzy. The last thing in his vision was the golden star left behind from his parents. As everything faded out he heard the Enchanter whisper We will meet again Chaos Mage in the Quantum Shadow..


Illusionist Leah of the Lake

# The Lore of Illusionist Leah of the Lake

On the eastern edge of Dream Master Lake, there's a little path that snakes its way through copse and tree. As you meander for a short time upon this trail, past shrub and bush, brush and fern... you might eventually stumble upon a small yet charming little cottage.

A freshly-varnished white picket fence surrounds an incredibly neat little kitchen garden, replete with herbs, vegetables and modestly pruned fruit trees. A latched gate sits appropriately aligned in the middle of the fence, open which a carefully carved sign reads "Briar Rose".

You open the gate and walk up the garden path, under the arched trellis and up to the front door, and are instantly drawn to the fascinating brass knocker in the shape of a woodpecker. You feel strangely compelled to see who lives here, so you set about striking the door with the woodpecker-knocker, at which point the door springs open revealing a lovingly tiled corridor leading into the abode.

Venturing carefully into the quaint cottage, you enter a cosy living area filled with plants and flowers of all conceivable variety. You see they are dotted all around the room, filling various jugs, mugs, vases and glasses. What kind of gentle soul could possibly live in such a fragrant, calming atmosph...

"WHAT IN MOLOCH'S MILK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?", screams a young lady as she engulfs you in a strange green cloud of spores.

As your throat constricts and you fight for breath on the floor of the comfy little room, your final senses are filled with a delicate smell of roses, as a surprisingly large fox begins to gnaw on your leg.


Diviner Zaros of the Ether

# The Lore of Diviner Zaros of the Ether

Ooh, hello hello!  Please do pull up a chair and sit for a moment, and I shall regale you with the life and times of the most wonderful me - and of course by that I mean Diviner Zaros of the Ether!

Let's see now.  I was lucky enough to be born into absurd wealth, so my childhood was one of extreme extravagance and grandeur.  The family not-so-humble-abode was one of those huge marble things, full of pillars and sweeping staircases - you know the sort yes?  Rather impractical, and incredibly expensive to heat, especially situated where it was, just to the east of the Gate to the Seventh Realm.

As soon as I could talk, my mother and father had private tutors and priests filling my young head with all kinds of subjects - everything from the divine to the ridiculous.  As such, by the age of sixteen I had grown weary of study, and ran away with just a small bag full of cash and my trusty pet ember frog named Keith.

My travels took me in a southerly direction, past the lake and through the forests... after many months I ended up at Goblin Town.  Now, you might rightly think this wouldn't be the best place for a spotty young teenager who got bored sitting at home being taught everything about the runiverse, but strangely my twelve year stay in Goblin Town was the thing that made a man of me.


For the first several months amongst the Goblins, I worked in the kitchen of the local pub (unimaginitively called "The Pub") washing dishes and cleaning tables.  Eventually I was trusted enough to start serving drinks, and helping out with the other side of the pub's business - gambling.  On the top floor of the building, pub owner Lumpy was running a fantastic array of card and dice games.  Due to my quick wits and charm, and uncanny ability to remember who had what cards, I was a natural in the pub's gaming rooms.

Those years playing cards in Lumpy's pub were the best of erm, well, I think they were good anyway - I can't honestly remember all that much about them as I was quite often very drunk indeed.  Sufficing to say that Keith and I left goblin town as worldly card masters, at which point it seemed only appropriate to go home and finish my studies in the divine, once I'd apologised to my parents of course.

Roll on thirty years of exciting and fascinating study of Divination, and here we are!  Fancy a quick game of "find the ace?"


Alchemist Ozohr of the Mount

# The Lore of Alchemist Ozohr of the Mount


Degrelle a colleague of Ozohr's from his time in the Archipellago, and one of the few contacts Ozohr still kept in the worlld of magical academia, came to the mount one day with a seemingly urgent matter to discuss with Ozohr.
      Ozorh abhored unannounced personal visits but he had known Degrelle long enough to know that he would not be here were it not important. Upon being let in and provided a large cup of mead, Degrelle relayed to Ozohr rumors of Magical Flames appearing to powerful wizards.
       "I'm well aware of the sacred flames, old friend" Ozohr eventually interjected "One appeared to me."
   For a moment Degrelle appeared almost disappointed at Ozohr's admission, he was however quick to hise this.
"Where is it now?" Degrelle asked
"Sold on to some greater fool" Ozohr said "no doubt the imbicile has used it to burn himself into a coffin by now."
"You sold it?!" asked Degrelle, agahst
"I am perfectly secure in my abilities. I feel no need to gamble with dark magic" Ozohr replied firmly "And moreover if the opportunists and circus performers who have turned magic into a sideshow want to speed up natural selection, far be it from me to stop them."
"You would prefer they become dark wizards?" Degrelle asked, not believing the apathy he was hearin from his old friend
"At least dark wizards believe in something. When its just us and them, there's some dignity to this...thing of ours, but these opportunists and social climbers are upsetting the balance." Ozohr growled "I cheer the coming of the flame, and drink to every fool that has and will lose themselves playing with dark magic."


Degrelle said nothing. Ozohr realized he had shocked his old colleague. The years of solitude had not done well for his social ability, and he felt he grew more bitter every day.
"Look" Ozohr said attempting sound reassuring "the flames are out there, that cannot be undone. Let things run their course, the cards fall where they may. Perhaps accumulate flames for study, and when/if the Forgotten Souls become a threat to the realm, you have my word, that this self imposed exile will not keep me from lending my support.
"I suppose that is all I can ask" Degrelle said reluctantly "I shall keep in contac then, any major developments and I will get word to you"
A moment late Degrelle was gone. Ozohr returned to his desk and opened and old spell book, there was much preparation to be done for the days ahead.


Geomancer Cromwell of Tartarus

# The Lore of Geomancer Cromwell of Tartarus

The room stank of devils.

And not the grandiose, sulphuric stench of arch-demons conjured forth to obliterate some earthly army with lightning in return for a hecatomb of sacrifices.

No, the smell permeating the quarters of Cromwell was an altogether more mundane kind of devil's waft, redolent of latrines, cat-vomit, and some ghastly stew of a thousand underarms.

It was an odor all too well known to Cromwell, for the Geomancer had made his home on the sub-plane of Tartarus for close on to a decade now. And it meant just one thing.

Imps! He had an infestation of imps!


Archmagus Eden of the Marsh

"As old as the wind that blows cold,

as old as the sun that glows gold.

As old as the earth itself;

or so i was told."

How old - Zelroth


Battle Mage Homer of the Arctic

Unlike the Homer of old, Homer of the arctic is reticent.


Sorcerer Aleister of the Dunes

# The Lore of Sorcerer Aleister of the Dunes

Aleister of the Dunes,

He spelled his snails and marked his runes,

And sailed beneath the veil of moons,

Hailed by those who know his truths,

He looms amongst the wailing Dunes.


Hedge Wizard Enigma of the Hills

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Enigma of the Hills

Enigma is in a bright valley with painted Hills, is in an overgrown forest with very little light.  Enigma's ability to embody contradiction alienates him from his persona.  But two mutually exclusive truths can exist within our conception of Enigma, a contradiction does not splinter our conception of Enigma because we allow Enigma to be indefinite.  Enigma and the hills are inextricably linked.  Enigma creates the hills; the hills create the persona that becomes Enigma.  A feedback loop, Enigma creates the Hills; the Hills create the persona that becomes Enigma who can now exist for you only in so far as the Hills Permit. There comes a point when Enigma can recede and we see only the Hills.

Psalm of Enigma

Count three minutes until the ferrous ferrier arrives

Feet that idled became urgent, imbued with purpose

The birds alike.

Polished titans pay no penance for their clamor

Engulfing us all in their indifferent gust

Faces of fleeting fascination had gone

And the hills look no different inverted

The placid air upset only by his indiscriminate pluck

When the tree hissed

When his notes went nearly unnoticed

Charons soloist felling foreign soldiers in undaunted repose

Sovereign only to the punctual shadow of the hills

caron, non ti crucciare:

vuolsi cosi cola dove si puote

cio che si vuole, e piu non dimandare.

Enigma interminable

Enigma illimitable

Enimga unknown

The Hills painted Enigma

of Enigma

For Enigma

Ad Enigma infinitum"

E^


Artificer Trollin of Xanadu

# The Tale of Artificer Trollin of Xanadu

Trollin really isn't too bright. He was barely capable of graduating highschool in Xanadu, and coasted on his charisma alone in life. He got his start at Seven Rivers Arcane Academy as a dishwasher, sometimes trash digger... You see these students weren't the brightest and sometimes threw out their wands, and books and things. One day while he was searching through the especially disgusting garbage, due to it being Blobcake day at the cafeteria, he found a especially pretty carved wand. It had its gnarls and twists, and something compelled Trollin' to keep the wand for himself. He lied to the guy and told him he couldn't find his wand for him. The dissapointed man hung his head and walked away.

With his new prize he slinked into the bathroom, and into the bathroom stall. He admired his new prize that he held delicately in his hands. It looked a little worn and had just a few marks, but he loved it jsut the same. He held it in his hand firmly, and rose it up to eye level. Remembering a spell he overheard yesterday while he walked through the cafeteria he spoke the words, "Bogulus Frogulus".

This was a grave mistake, as he had no subject to cast the spell on. This was a specific transmogrify spell that well... you know... makes your target an amphibious creature. Trollin looked down at his skin and burst out of the bathroom stall. Across from him in the mirror he saw a green frog-man where his reflection should be. The breath from his lungs suddenly all escaped, and he began to feel very ill.

DARKNESS


DARKNESS

Trollin awoke with the Dean of Seven Rivers standing over him. There were both men and women standing around him, laughing at him. "what an idiot!" he heard from a voice, "Froggo Baggins!" another voice said. Trollin parted through the crowd and ran through the bathroom with tears rolling down his face.

Nobody ever changed him back to a man, as they said its his punishment forever. Now Trollin has taken up learning magic to one day change himself back into the man he was before. Some people say he will never be capable of doing it as its one of the hardest spells to master. Trollin just has to try.


Hedge Wizard Cairon of the Grotto

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Cairon of the Grotto

Cairon had never had the best luck. It seemed like his whole life was one unfortunate turn of events after another. As a child his home had been burned to the ground by fire imps, only he survived. As a teenager he failed out of archery school after accidently shooting the instructor. In his early 20s he thought his luck had turned around when he met Lenora, the love of his life, or so he thought. Lenora left him for a rich dwarf a year into their relationship.

Depressed and alone, Carion began to wander the woods near his town and one day he discovered a shiny purple horseshoe, half burried in the grass. He picked it up, admired it, put it in his pocket to carry on with his wallowing. However, after only a few steps he tripped and fell to the ground. He looked to see what had tripped him. A treasure chest! Full of riches! Carion took the chest and started to make his way back to town, when a beautiful maiden approached him and asked him to be her lover. Carion realized in that moment that this was no ordinary horseshoe, it was lucky, very lucky! Carion returned to town and everyone began to admire him. Giving him gifts and singing songs of praise. His luck had finally changed.

Since that day Carion has carried has never let the horseshoe leave his possession and he carries it with him everywhere he goes. Carion would rather die than go back to his previous life.


# The Lore of Rotten Revenant Jeldor of the Bottomless Grave

Oh GOD, OH GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE?! MY LIMBS ARE ROTTING AND I CAN HARDLY WALK! THE FLAME WAS SUPPOSED TO GRANT ME STRENGTH NOT TURN ME INTO A CORPSE! I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO AVENGE MY PEOPLE NOW! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!


Spellsinger Arcus of the Ether

# The Almanack of Spellsinger Arcus of the Ether

INTRODUCTION

I grew up in silence. Didnt speak
much past my second birthday. While I dwelled
among the Void Disciples, shy and meek,
learning my magic, often I beheld
the prodigies far sorcerers had wrought
in cloud and hill, freshets in ancient woods
and figured out that wizards had begot
these wonders by chanting aloud. I stood
two miles from home. My half-remembered words
pulled through me, and the mighty sacred force
of elements invested me. I heard
my voice rise to a fever-pitch. The course
of rivers changed, descant over my song
remembered from my mother, waiting long
in starlight as the Hunt wheeled overhead
and calling to my brothers. Secretly
she lilted, rocking me in arms. The dread
of exile didnt faze her, and in me
the music settled, wrapping round my bones,
just waiting for this moment. Then I knew
Id leave the vale, to speak, and sing, alone.
Magic bears us like flotsam, doesnt rue
our sorrows and misfortunes. I have seen
the mighty kings and hedge mages and ghasts
and written down their stories. Now I mean
to share my own discoveries at last
a little of my life. Brave tales to tell
with noble verse, and every tuneful spell.


Archmagus Jerret of the Steppe

# The Lore of Archmagus Jerret of the Steppe

I have spent an eternity guarding this sanctuary, just as my father did before me. I have stopped many demons from attempting to defile our temple and steal the sacred scrolls. However, a new threat is rising that seeks the scrolls, one that I fear I can not face alone. I pray for a miracle, or a hero, to help me face this, for if the scrolls fall into the wrong hands we are doomed.


Hedge Wizard Sharx of the Gnostics

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Sharx of the Gnostics


Alchemist Aleister of the Thorn

# The Lore of Alchemist Aleister of the Thorn

Alchemist Aleister of the Thorn is a mysterious Wizard, born many moons ago on a crisp and misty night in the Thorn region in the kingdom of Arvalee.

Aleister has many talents some more obvious than others. One of his more obvious skills is that he is a master potion maker and can create potions to cure virtually any ailment or use as weapons against monsters. He also enjoys making various potions just for recreational purposes. He is fond of a potion in more ways than one!

He lives in a magical wizard tower located between a swampy lake and a lush green forest with 100ft tall oak trees. He hand-built his tower with the help of some other wizards and some magic spells.

In his younger days he flew aircrafts while protecting the FRWC realm against the goblin army in the 100-year war which finished many centuries ago. His flying exploits are known all over the land and he is a renown Skylord but these days he does not fly as much because there is a fragile peace in the land.

He has deep elven connections and works closely with the high elvs on any diplomatic matters which might threaten the peace of the great FRWC realm.

Above all he is a happy wizard who loves all animals. He tries his best to understand Goblins!


Death Shroom Amanita of Nasty Town

# The Lore of Death Shroom Amanita of Nasty Town

For context read Wild Mage Nick of the Cosmos' lore #7371

...As the 7 wizards were ready to ascend Wild Mage Nick of the Cosmos, Amanita was pushed by the evil one.

Amanita fell in the fire, his flesh started to burn. Screams were heard from outside the cave.  Coming out on the other side was something out of nightmares. This made Nick hesitate to jump in the flame himself.


Mystic Milton of Atlantis

# II

The Crystal Polisher

Milton watched as an old man pottered around a large stone workbench strewn with an assortment of crystal shards. Periodically the old man would interrupt his shuffling about to hold a crystal shard up to the dusty light that streamed in from a large opening overhead. At these moments Milton could see the individual character of the crystals brought forth in illuminated colour. One a deep, motionless green and another an airy blue that seemed to shift with a tidal motion. As Milton continued to watch, a subtle rhythmic ritual sense began to arise in his mind. The room and the old man moving about it appeared to Milton as through a deep mist and intermittently from out of this hazy scene a clear sharp pulse of some new spectral colour would flash.

Milton shook his head to clear his mind and approached the old man as he held aloft a glowing pink crystal shard. Without taking his eyes from the crystal in his hands the old man addressed Milton.

"Here for more, is it? Some success you've had, is it?"

"Yes. One of the shadows and another from the waters" Replied Milton as he patted a slight bulge under his cloak.

"No common thing is it, a crystal willing to receive. And further yet one so shaped as to accept your crude magics. No gold, a trade this time it is."


Having made this declaration, the old man shuffled off towards a large pile of dull, unshapen crystalline rocks in the corner of the room. Milton waited for a moment, watching as the old man took a lump of the dull rock and placed it on the stone workbench. A chisel-like tool blinked into the old man's hand. As Milton watched, the old man took on a countenance of deep concentration. With deft movements he was shaping the rock into a narrow faceted rectangle. Once satisfied with his work, he threw the chisel over his shoulder into the air, where it promptly vanished. Now appeared in his hand what seemed like a length of tarnished green leather with which he began to vigorously polish the now exposed and shaped crystal.

As the polisher continued in his work a certain somewhat familiar scent filled the air, and Milton raised his brows quizzically.

"Kobold hide it is" the old man stated. "Stench, yes, but it is what is required to bring the crystal to clarity."

Milton stared for a moment, bemused, but then banished this unfortunate fact from his mind. Reaching into his cloak he brought out a small worn red pouch and placed it lightly on the stone surface next to where the old man was working.

"Powdered essence from the Dream Masters of the lake. I believe this should be sufficient payment for at least three binding crystals"

The old man took a quick sharp breath as he stopped working and eyed the small pouch.

"Dream Master's essence you say it is? Through a fair dealing you came by this is it? I will not be involved in any wrong dealings with the Dream Masters."

"You can be assured" Replied Milton. "I have an accord with Wazir of the Mount."

The old man turned and stared hard at Milton through the dusty light of the room.

"The One Who Rings it is?"


"The One Who Rings it is?"

"The One Who Rings" stated Milton.

After a moments hesitation the old man scooped up the pouch and deposited it in his apron pocket.

"Agreed. Three crystals worth it is."

With a few quick movements of his hand through the air, the old man caused a wooden chest to appear and land heavily on the workbench. Opening it and reaching in he withdrew three small perfectly clear crystals.

"The binding incantation, same as the last it is."

"You have my thanks" replied Milton, as he quickly wrapped the crystals and placed them within his cloak.

"Tell me Wizard, what is it you will do with the bound energies?"

Milton had already turned to leave but he paused and looked over his shoulder at the old man.

"Time will tell".


Ghost Eater Karasu

# The Lore of Ghost Eater Karasu


Channel 3 Poltergeist Khudalf of the Ice Abyss

So cold; so painfully cold.

Sublimely infinite darkness.

I am entombed and forgotten,

what have I done.?

A moment... A power

deep down within...

Power catalyzed by pain;

putrid, soul-searing pain.

"RAa gRRR Gggg mRRR!!"

Echoes of the cry bounced endlessly.

Pestilence has consumed Khudalf.

Trapped in icy chasms, he is frozen,

awaiting a release from the Ice Abyss.

A ghost frog lies in wait,

guarding the soul closely.

No fool disturb this place.

For great evil looms.


Sorcerer Aldus of the Morning Star

# Sorcerer Aldus of the Morning Star

In the charred ruins of a cathedral, he dwells. The charcoal walls are streaked with flakes of desiccated blood in the shape of runes he can no longer read. The prodigy sorcerer once led legions, but now only commands a hollow empire of bone and misfortune. Half-finished rituals and alchemical preparations litter the witchwood altar. Nothing thrives. Not even sunlight dares linger here.

The local villagers, emboldened by the taverns stale ale, utter the sorcerers name in hushed tones: Aldus the Black. Heretic of the Morning Star, named after the fallen angel who waged war upon the heavens. While much about him remains an enigma, one fact is clear. The moon is his kin. Its arcane glow is complicit in the heretics dark deeds. Runes drawn in fresh blood activate by moonlight, offering short-lived but powerful conduits for his magic.

Fortunately for the world and its inhabitants, Aldus is forgetful. Even being naturally gifted in the black arts, he can barely complete a blood ritual without forgetting a critical component. His latest blunder occurred while preparing a mortal sacrifice. He briefly left the incapacitated villager unattended on the altar to fetch his ceremonial blade. Aldus was bewildered to return to an empty chamber. He then noticed the meticulously distilledand not administeredsleeping elixir on a nearby table. He forgot the second dose! The once unparalleled sorcerer realized his error with a chuckle. He shook his head. A predatory grin spread across his face as he glanced out the broken stained glass window and spotted the victim fleeing in the distance.


It wasnt always this way; legendary reputations are seldom forged by failures. The eve of a crucial battle marked the origin of the heretics amnesia and sole reason his imperial campaign was lost. Aldus can only vaguely recall that a fellow wizard traveling through the region congratulated him on his recent success and shared in tales and drink. He awoke the following morning, war forgotten, and abandoned camp to go on a pleasant grave robbing journey. With his skeletal legions and devoted zealots left without a commander, they fell. As did a part of the great sorcerer. Since then, he has been consumed with the quest to confront the culprit who cursed him with forgetfulness and reverse it. However, there is one complication. He cannot remember who it was!

In response to a sharp rise in disappearances and defiled graves throughout the village in recent months, efforts have been redoubled to hunt the heretic and purge the land of his perverse magic. Thus far, all have failed. As long as that pale orb traces an arc across the sky, Aldus the Black endures. Forgetful, perhaps, but he endures.


Archmagus Eden of the Hall

# The Lore of Archmagus Eden of the Hall

His body may say "supa fly" but this wizard is anything but chill. He is wicked to the core. Brash, but distinguishedly so. This wizard's personality can be summarized by a rant he performed in the town square:


"What the fizzle did you just heckin' say about me, you Imp? I'll have you know I soloed the Wizard Tutorial, and I've been involved in a myriad amounts of puppeting cases in ranked PVP, and I have over 300 registered PVP wins. I am trained to be the best in my school and I'm the Warlord of this realm. You are nothing to me but just another Forgotten Soul. I will dispel your spells the heck out of this world with a number amount of fireworks that you dare not count, mark my magical words. You think you can get away with whispering "noob" after losing to me? Think again, amateur. As we speak, I am contacting my Promethean Warlord friends and you are being hexed so you better prepare for the spells. The spells that drain out the pathetic thing with the pathetic number you call your life points. You're heckin' screwed, kid. I can cast any spell, anytime, and I can kill you in one hit, and that's just with my pet. Not only am I extensively trained in gearless combat, but I have access to all the worlds in the realm which includes your house and I will use it to haunt you out of here, you little adept. If only you could have known what imminent punishment your little taunt was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have casted the proper shield or dispel. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you fizzling noob. I will dispel you all over and make you cry from the sparks. You're going back to Wizard101."


Battle Mage Caligula of the Keep

# The Lore of Battle Mage Caligula of the Keep

Caligula lived as a peasant for his childhood and into his young adult life.

He awoke one night to the sound of his chickens squawking and clucking, he recognised this as a sign that there was a predator nearby.

He rushed outside to protect his family's way of life, and there he saw a young fox.

He grabbed a hoe and charged towards the fox, but as he drew closer he realised that this fox was not trying to harm his chickens.

The fox was in fact repairing a hole in the side of the chicken enclosure, he looked into the eyes of the fox and noticed they were a deep bloodshot red.

The fox introduced himself as Masky, and explained that he would be Caligula's gateway into the Runiverse.

Caligula and Masky were soulbound from that point onwards. Masky taught Caligula the ways of the Wizard and how to brew mind-altering potions using herbs from the surrounding woods.

After a lifetime of using Cannabis Potions, Caligula and Masky sought after something more, something that would transform their minds, bodies and even their souls...


Adept Requiem of the Cold

# The Lore of Adept Requiem of the Cold

I still remember it like it was yesterday. Her reaction as her hand slowly slipped out of my hand will forever be burned in my mind. Every night my mind goes back to that cold snowy winter night and every night I wake in a cold sweat fear.  There's wasn't much I could go as I arrived a minute too late. Only ghost and I were able to maie it out. We were the unfortunate ones to get away...

It still haunts me till this day.


# The Lore of Adept Requiem of the Cold

I still remember it like it was yesterday. Her reaction as her hand slowly slipped out of my hand will forever be burned in my mind. Every night my mind goes back to that cold snowy winter night and every night I wake in a cold sweat fear. There's wasn't much I could do as I arrived a minute too late. Only ghost and I were able to make it out. We were the unfortunate ones to get away...

It still haunts me till this day.


Enchanter Leah of the Plains

Eyes on the bug,

                                                                            Look you can't touch.


Battlemage Qasim of the Riviera

# The Lore of Battlemage Qasim of the Riviera

In a world before the invention of time; magic and chaos ruled the land - this is where we first heard of the Battlemages.

The legends tell of reclusive group of magicians that have been in search of untold knowledge lost during the unrecorded war of wizards. Many claim the Battlemage Qasim is eternal - others that it walks between the lands of dead and life without hesitation having made a deal with the unspoken one.


Hex Mage Ulysse of the Plains

# The Lore of Hex Mage Ulysse of the Plains

Ulysse, like his uncle before him was drawn to the sea. The Iliad's tales of heroism, struggle, and friendship were stories he yearned for but because of his choices never came to be. A pirate's life, is a life of constant search for endless bounty only to find dug up chests of empty promises, guarded by old bones clutching dirt and rusted metal.

"Greed dies alone." He always thought.

Until one night on the ship's focsle, under a full moon, he felt a gaze upon him. A black, one-eyed raven! Impossible! There was no land in sight for leagues in the vastness of a black ocean...

As they locked their gaze, Ulysse was instantly transported to a strange land where physical gravity didn't exist but instead was paralyzed by the weight of his choices. "Easy choices, broken promises. How fitting that the easy path always led to a harder life." He contemplated. As he was laying on the dirt, finally breaking free of his self-evaluation, he saw a great tree who's twisted arms reached into oblivion...and he saw the one-eyed raven watching.

The raven asked him a question, "Look beyond the tree, you will see a forking road. One path is not like the other but in your moment between your choices lie an infinite amount of possibilities that will dictate your journey."

Ulysse asked, "Which path is safe?"

Emotionless, the one-eyed Raven said, "Neither path is safe. Will you walk the way of hard truths or the way of fine lies?"

Ulysse stunned in silence, unable to utter a word.


Ulysse stunned in silence, unable to utter a word.

The one-eyed raven said, "Once you have chosen, WE will be made whole, for you will give me your left eye as tribute for this deal. If you choose the right path, I will impart a gift of an ever-lasting ember from my dead father, Prometheus to guide you for as long you breathe...NOW CHOOSE!... but first your left eye..."

Pain, Ulysse thought, real pain is truth. Stripped bare and humbled, Ulysse saw the path before him. "Fine lies or hard truths..." He saw a path of heroism and fame, while the other, a road of endless plains and searching. He took his first meaningful step...

A wizard is born...


Pyromancer Jameel of the Quantum Downs

# The Lore of Pyromancer Jameel of the Quantum Downs

## Chapter I - Report of Psychological Assessment

Jameel is a 271 years and 3 months old dream master adolescent. He was advised to take a psychological evaluation to determine his current cognitive and emotional status. Jameel has spent the first two centuries of his life in the Quantum Downs, a dark space, solely illuminated by bioluminescent organisms. This can be seen as a contributing factor to his fertile imagination, but also lack of concentration outside of the Quantum Downs. Jameel displays an exceptional level of intelligence and a strong urge to control dreams. He describes it as great fun and does not comprehend the problem of non-consensual dream control.

## Chapter II - Article from the Runiverse Herald

The 1000th Burning Kobold Festival promised to be the biggest, family-friendly event of the Runiverse, this year. Not even three days into the week-long festivities, around Dream Master Lake, and yet another incident causes controversy and outrage. As every evening, all dream masters gathered around the lake, to create a dream so powerful it appears in the night sky. This time, instead of wonderful creatures and rainbow colors, visitors caught sight of giant kobold genitalia. According to eyewitnesses, several wizards collapsed and required medical treatment.

At the time of printing the cause remains unclear. Master of ceremony, Magus Wazir of the Mount, denied his complicity in the incident. I am only ringing my bell here, he insisted, before demonstratively ringing his bell in front of the journalists.

It is to be hoped that the festival proceeds without further complications. The first uproar happened during opening night; the giant wooden kobold statue in the middle of the lake caught fire. It is usually burned during the closing ceremony.

## Chapter III - Runi P.D. Report

Suspect: Pyromancer Jameel of the Quantum Downs
Age: 273


Suspect: Pyromancer Jameel of the Quantum Downs
Age: 273

Suspect arrested after being found asleep in a tree near Dream Master Lake. He was in possession of fireworks that can be associated with the ignition of the kobold statue. The suspect states that he sympathizes with kobolds; he wants to put an end to the appropriation of their culture. He explains that the Burning Kobold Festival was founded by kobolds as a simple beer fest. After some serious miscalculations, they had asked dream masters, known for their soberness, to assist with the planning. The suspect elaborates that kobolds were banned from the festival, after Big Potion Corp joined as a sponsor. He concludes his confession with loud kobold sounds.


Archmagus Eizo of the Event Horizon

#                        AGUILAS
_His mind and the sea were brothers at arms, a staff against stone and time, purple and lime_. -Aldo's Isle Proverb

Interwoven with Eizo's identity was AGUILAS.  It was not a particulaly large structure, there were much larger homes in the realm and even on the green Isle.  Nor was its construction particularly subtle.  Beautiful yet rugged though; dark smooth stone, richly colored oak doors, and with a tall tower that gazed out over the sea.

# Beneath the understated home, deep in the earth, was its heart, its majesty.

Aldoans avoided speaking its true name out of reverence, mostly calling it the "West Tower" or simply "Eizo's". (AGUILAS the term referred to more than a home; it was an ancient name for the land itself.)

It sat nestled close to The Brine amidst granite and cypress, and from the Main Road a long cobblestone driveway weaved through hills and trees and around the quaint Mill Pond.  Wolves roamed the grounds and hawks watched from above.

# A marble fountain bubbled before a rune-marked oak door entrance.  The pool of water glowed purple in the moon light and aromas of pine and salt filled the breezy air.

The local legend of AGUILAS speculated that it contained an entry point to a lost city under the sea.  For below the main (newer) structure there were intricate and seemingly endless passageways, descending to the bedrock of the Isle, and possibly _beneath_ the bedrock.  A gateway to a forgotten realm, a maze into the abyss..

The locals feared AGUILAS (and Eizo by extension), for there was a tradition of not wanting to poke such strange darkness.


Magic was required to unlock its secrets.  Beneath the home, there were doors upon doors with runes and spells laid upon them.  The ancient and enigmatic builders of Aguilas were godly in their arts.

The first floors of the tower were normal domestic quarters; a kitchen, a den, a library, numerous bedrooms and bathrooms, a potions room, a generative magic room, all fine in design.  Once neat and tidy, the rooms had become dusty and dishelveled from neglect.

At the western side of the first floor, framed by stained-glass windows, there was a large trick fireplace.  Behind it (being revealed after reciting the correct words) was a secret spiral stair that spun elegantly to the tower balcony high above.  The circular room was cozy and well-kept, and the view expansive and freeing; Eizo's favorite place in the world.

Years before, after returning home from a journey to the Event Horizon, he inherited the property from a sea wizard of great renown and lineage.  The old sea wizard was the adopted father of Eizo , and at his death bed in the tower balcony he told Eizo certain truths for the first and last time..

"My dear Eizo, I have kept this from you for your own sake.  I know who built this tower lad, though alas I do not know who built what exists beneath it.  Now, as I prepare to pass on, I ask you to continue my quest, and find the lost city of AGUILAS."

As they shared a final pot of tea, he told Eizo many beautiful stories about the Runiverse, and much Isle history previously unknown.

"Go to the fountain, touch the water and whisper the words I have taught you , and enter the doorway that opens below you."


Eizo loved him as a true father, and with tears in his eyes vowed to complete the quest.

Slowly then all at once, he realized the gravity of what was there.. Thousands of rooms and locked doors, languages and runes never seen before, magical arts never before encountered, candles that never went out, scrolls that had constant fresh ink on them, music echoing in strange halls, laughing voices at empty tables, paintings and sculptures from other realms, and even ghosts of sea dragons and squid beasts lurking in the dark air..
Eizo felt trapped, scared, yet _compelled_.

And so, this was the task of Eizo, and when in need of rest and healing, he would return to the cozy high balcony of AGUILAS.

# In the wind and rain, with hot tea, he thought.  He thought of his travels and friends, everything prior to this life of _a staff, stone, and time_, this new life of ever delving and uncertainty.

Here on the breezy balcony Eizo felt himself- an unburdened wizard, standing peacefully with his cat Whistler.


# The Lore of Horned Phantasm Celeste of the Ice Abyss

# Prologue

Celeste took her first breath and an unimaginable pain flooded her body, as if hot needles were stabbing her in every bit. It was as if something was tearing her in all directions.

Celeste tried to understand what was happening, but saw only a strange man, with a river of flames flowing straight from his palms into her body. She tried to resist, she tried to defend herself, but the pain was too strong.

Who was that man? Why did he torture her so much?

When all lights started to fade, an unknown wizard fell to the ground, the flames stopped, and she could finally take a deep breath. But the agony didn't go away, her whole body throbbed with pain, and she looked with horror at the bits of purple skin that had split off and reconnected a moment later elsewhere.

"What am I?!"

Celeste looked around the red room, but saw only horrible smoke and a confused wizard on the ground. He looked so scared. But she felt no mercy for him.

"What did you do to me ?!" she demanded, but the wizard suddenly disappeared in front of her. In an instant, he vanished, as if he had never been there.

Celeste looked around the stone room in confusion, trying to understand what had just happened. She didn't know how she got here. She didn't know where she was. All she could feel was a terrible pain that twisted her mind.

She struggled to her feet and walked over to the distant window, where forests, mountains, lakes, and even the ocean echoed in the darkness of the evening. The night air pleasantly cooled her body, but she could not rest.


In her mind, she suddenly heard the chatter of distant voices, as if hearing the thoughts of other beings. Other wizards. They felt her presence. They knew that something terrible had happened here, and most of all they understood that it was different from them.

Yes, Celeste felt so powerful.

Magical energy flowed through her body, which she could not describe, and as she stared out the window, she wanted nothing more than to tear down those distant houses and burn the dark forests. She liked the idea. She wanted to silence all the voices in her head. She wanted to tell them not to play with her.

She reached out to the sky and called out the incredible magical energy that lurked in her. It flowed through her body like a captive storm that wanted to get out and just destroy.

Celeste heard other thoughts, much fainter. They must have been ordinary people, without magical abilities. But she didn't care now. She just wanted to make them all silent.

Suddenly something moved behind her, and Celeste turned on her heel in an instant.

She was waiting for the enemy, but instead a frog landed on the stone floor in front of her.

"I know you," Celeste stammered, glancing slowly at the bone frog, which was watching her blankly. "But you looked different. I I can't remember.

Celeste was about to send the destructive spell from her right hand to the world. Looking at the bony animal, which had to live only by some magical miracle, she could only quench her right hand and cast away the spell.

"What just happened to you?" Celeste asked the frog in disbelief. She couldn't remember how she knew the creature. Regret flooded her heart as she looked at the frog.

"And what just happened to me?" she asked with tears in her eyes, examining her purple fingers.


Witch Keziah of the Keep

# The Lore of Witch Keziah of the Keep

Witch Keziah Foster is a 130-year-old former black magic school master who enjoys spells, potions, theater, and old tales. He is mysterious and kind, but can also be very lonely and a bit shy. Physically, Keziah is in pretty good spirits since he was a young child. He is short with pale green skin and green eyes. He has asymmetrical ears, though they they never see the light of day due to his chaotic green hair

He grew up in the Keep, which was known to be the upper class side of town. After his mother died when he was young, he was raised by his father. He quickly learned how to be a brave since his father had no kind heart. His most recent romance was with a woman called Shane Gemma Gilbert, who was the same age as him. Shane died in 1381.The papers reported the cause of death: 'heart disease'

Witch Kaziah has four children with late wife Shane: Cindy aged 76, Dennis aged 78, Shannon aged 83 and Tommy aged 86.


Crowley of the Gnostics

# **Crowley of the Gnostics, Firestarter, Bearer of the Divine Light**

Those in Red Wizard Capital know Crowley of the Gnostics as the **_Firestarter_**. For nearly four decades he has climbed the north tower every day at dusk, lighting the way for those who dare sail The Salt.

**ORIGINS**

Four decades in Red Wizard Capital is enough to cement a legacy. But Crowley wasnt always a red hat wizard. Did he earn his hat? Of course. Crowley trained, invested, and levered his way to the top; he hodled harder than even the most notable of the Runiverse wizards.

I. TRUTH

Crowley was not a child of this city. Crowley wasnt even born of the red hat clan. Rumor has it Crowley was discovered as a baby. A baby drifting out of The Quantum Shadow, as quizzical an anomaly as Schrdinger's cat. And noit wasnt the nearby wizards of The Thorn who took him in frightened as they should of his origin. It was the Gnostics of Goblin Town.

Fitting? A child from the land of the Great Burning finding his way to the Gnostics, those who follow the Divine Light? Who worship Magic power from within? It is, after all, the Sacred Flame that fuels the Great Burning. The most powerful of all Divine Light. Even more powerful than the Chroma Crystal, another source of the great Divine Light in the Runiverse.

2. COURAGE

How did Crowley, with an enigma of a beginning, come to Red Wizard Capital? It was in studying and staying true to his faith that Crowley found his path.


While the Sacred Flame was out of his reach (only held by the old guard), Crowley decided he would venture to find the Chroma Crystal. He would be one of the first in centuries to track down the Holy Arcanist Illuminus of the Heavens. The Gnostics believe the Chroma Crystal held by Arcanist Illuminus to be one of the purest forms of the Divine Light: able to summon the godliest Magic power short of the Great Burning.

3. FAITH

Crowley, with nothing to lose, left the care of the Gnostics at an early age. With faith in front and only emptiness behind, he ventured for decades through the Runiverse. No one knows quite where Crowley went. In telling of his travels, Crowley emblazes on for hours, with fire in his eyes. He offers only ominous tales of odyssey. Treacherous side quests with his newfound red snake.

4. POWER

But Crowley came back with more than storieshe has the power to summon forth great fire. Since his return, Crowley lives illumined by the flame.

Without certainty, it is believed that he derives this from Magic; from his understanding of the Divine Light, witnessed through the Chroma Crystal. To the Gnostics, he is known as **_Bearer of the Divine Light_**.

It is this great power, the summoning of the Magic flame, that brought vast wealth to Crowley. It enabled him to earn his red hat and forge a prosperous path in Red Wizard Capital. This Magic flame is the fire that he uses to light the north tower of the capital each day.

While fire is effortless, Crowleys mind wanders. He grows restless.

He knows his true destiny is to stay strong to his faith to spread the Divine Light beyond the Red Wizard Capital and The Salt.


Sorcerer Ozohr of the Sacred Pillars

# The Lore of Sorcerer Ozohr of the Sacred Pillars

           Extinguished lanterns lined the long cut granite corridor. Thors wrath provided Ozohr with just enough light so he wouldnt trip over the

nearly slippery floor.This passage seemed as old as time itself, and untouched for almost as many years. Is this truly how far Ive fallen from the

Sacred Pillars? He asked himself, slowing his pace, taking care not to lose his footing. After what had felt like hours, he finally could see an arched

doorway in the distance. With every step it grew greater in size, until Ozohr finally reached the base of it.

In a cold sweat, he pulled back the hood on his burlap cloak. The message hed received gave careful instructions that if not followed would surely

lead to his demise. The doors were massive, close to 30 feet tall, but light as a feather. They open silently, void of any gears or cogs. He kept his eyes

fixated on the floor as he shuffled towards the large pyramidal shadow in front of him.

       The doors quickly shut behind Ozohr, and just as swiftly, any remnants of light. Thors wrath seemed to be drowned out by the darkness, with

the exception of 2 extinguished lanterns, one on either side of the now closed doors. Using Thors Wrath, he lit the one closest to him, and in

sequence lanterns around the entire room lit themselves, throwing the room into stark contrast. The granite had been replaced with cut and polished

marble, the room itself mimicd the pyramid shape of the mountain. Ozohr stood in awe, never before had he seen so many memes gathered in one


place. They were framed in gold, hung tightly to the polished marble.  Ozohr moved from one grand image to the next, so entranced with the artwork,

he failed to notice the eyes locked on him from across the room. He worked his way through the room until he finally reached a giant coffin bound in

chains. A powerful spell bound the chains to the coffin. Ozohr had read of such spells before, which usually required the combined might of multiple

wizards and a blood pact.

      There was a small gap in the face of the prison, granting the creature inside just enough visibility to peer outside. Ozohr and the being locked

eyes, and although it was only for a moment, time had felt as if it was standing still. Countless images flashed before him, some of the greatest memes

in existence, but this was not all. He witnessed a witch being burned, an angry crowd gathered around her, fueling the fire with bad memes, ones the

world hoped to forget. It was in that instant, Ozohr felt he achieved an inexplicable illumination of the infinite; Awakening. His gaze turned away

from the creature, and he muttered a name to himself that felt as if it had been engraved in his mind; Nosferatu.  He let out a long sigh, pulled up

the hood on his cloak and exited the dungeon.


Channel 3 Poltergeist Setsuko of the Nightmare Dominion

What is dead may never die!


Sorcerer Azahl of the Mount

# A last rose

To my dearest friends Shadow Mage Hagar of the Realm and Archmagus Casper of the Mist.

I lived a good life. I had access to incredible sights and knowledge. I left the Mount for many years and then returned for a last spiritual retreat.

I dedicated a considerable part of my life to studying and improving as a sorcerer. And I know I've helped many on my way. Some years ago, before I finally headed back to the Mount, I joined a select group of wizards to work on deciphering the manuscripts of Sage Celah of the Steppe. Yes, our group. Those were happy years, folks. We spent days, weeks, traveling and exchanging information concerning the miraculous trips of the Sage, trying to understand his way of life. I still do believe he has got an answer for the mysteries of life and I am profoundly grateful for all the experiences we have had together over these years of companionship.

I however got tired. Tired of waiting for this wisdom. And I started to realize that although I have always been pleased to contribute to greater achievements of the communities I lived in, there was always a secret personal pursuit. A personal desire of acquiring more power.

Power to see things done faster. Power to optimize. So in the depth of my retreat I researched. I feel I was guided by the power of the Rune of Neptune.

It strangely pulled me out of external life and threw me uphill, in a small cabin, where I spent a long time reading and thinking about dreams and ideals. And I concluded that usual magic and philosophy were too slow if we were to conquer real power in this existence.

I knew that kind of thoughts could drive me to darker ways, but in my heart I believed I was pursuing the light... The mysterious beacon of the Rune of Neptune made me understand the importance of ideals and doing what it takes to realize them. Thus I could wait no more.


There are things that lie beyond consciousness, as we learned from the Sage. Things that seem unreachable. Yes, unreachable in an earthly life. We have been trying to build a path into the unconsciousness of mankind. We have been carrying rocks and paving the way. It requires a lifetime. And this is where I turned to what would be my final decision.

Do not take this the wrong way, I am willing to give my life to this. Please keep reading.

In one of my trips I was granted access to an old tome and I must confess it thrilled me. There were passages I could never forget, about opening bridges to other worlds. Real bridges.

I know. I know. You may judge me for a fool, I accept it. But this was meaningful to me.

If one is to work all his life to build a road in slow burn, couldn't he do it quickly by opening a bridge with a REAL BURNING?

The fire that drives us forward has many faces.

I will leave you to your thoughts now. I cannot be dissuaded, it is decided. In the last weeks I've been mentally preparing for this day.

This is no trivial subject. It just came to me as the only possibility. None other than this would make more sense right now, when dark times approach rapidly once again.

So it shall be done.

I will go through the flames in sacrifice.

And I hope to see you again, from the other side.

With all my heart,

Sorcerer Azahl of the Mount


Battle Mage Wolfram of the Plains

# The Lore of Battle Mage Wolfram of the Plains

Whilst my beard be red

To the fire I was not yet fed

Me trusted fox be looking to the west

To find us a safe place to rest

So come all ye wizards to me

Youll find I have something you all must see

Stare deeply into my eyes of blue

And the secret should be revealed in chapter two


Thaumaturge Iprix of the Court

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Iprix of the Court

Iprix awoke, face pressed upon the warm cobblestones, with a cool morning breeze on his face.  A brief moment passed as he fought the fog of the evening's festivities away. The sound of the ship's crew in the nearby marina on the riverside hummed and clanked as he stood, buttoning his vest and smoothing the wrinkles away with a whispered word and a flick of his staff. One who did not know this "young man" might assume he spent the entire night in restful slumber in a luxurious bed in his home in Yellow Wizard Haven.  Iprix wasn't one to let the mistakes or misunderstandings that happened in the midst of celebration damper his spirits.

Joyfully setting off on his way to the nearest pub, he ignored the roiling clouds hovering in the distance beyond the mountains.  He smiled, and said to himself..."Another day in paradise!"


Alchemist Patch

# The Lore of Alchemist Patch

Not much is known of Alchemist Patch.


Battle Mage Ethan of the Wild

# The Lore of Battle Mage Ethan of the Wild Boar

Anyone that knows Ethan, knows he is a real party animal, he's a somewhat mysterious type who believes in doing the right thing for his fellow Wizards.

He grew up in the wild along a pack of wild boars, it wasn't until he was 25 that a mysterious Wizard found Ethan and taught him to speak and how to be somewhat civilized.

Ethan loves adventure and relies on the help of his animal family when on adventures by speaking directly to the beasts with chirps, and other sounds to get their attention and help!

Anyone that knows Ethan of the Wild knows him to be a connisuer of wild mushrooms, as well as nature's other goodies. He's usually working on some spell or project and deeply involved in anything that he does.

Need to catch quick Ride? Ethan will help to conjure up a couple wild boar frens for the journey!

WAGMI


Shaman Cairon of the Palms

# The Lore of Shaman Cairon of the Palms

Shaman Cairon of the Palms, 1 of 106 Eastern Arcanists, but of 2 Twins with a Topaz Slime Familiar, was a decent man who ran a harem, you'd see him in his purple pants, like a uniform and always with jinx staff like, wtf, why you alwasy wear the same shit?

Anyways, as many know, arcanists are looked at by other Wizard as different, but thats because of the green hue from the skin, they called him a reptile, which didn't bother him, he just became cold towards the haters.

During the heyday of wizardry,  Shaman Cairon would easily read the mind of others, his uncanny ability to charm women landed him in many a bed. Cairon was also well known to entertain his friends and strangers with jokes, dances, voices, and other tricks.

As for the battles among Wizard, Cairon saw himself as above this, he carried his staff but was not concerned with their squabbling, he cut the shit and would get to brass tacks with others, squashing issues amicably and sometimes not, but he did not mince words.

Cairon plans to sacrifice his apprentice Ethan of the Wild to the flames at some point in the next 500 years, this is a boy he raised from the wild boar and brought "proper", taught him how to "wipe his own ass", so to say.

He love Ethan as a son, and knows the ultimate sacrifice is not one's self, but your life's mission, his hope to deify Ethan could go well, but who knows, Cairon isn't goin into the flames! Ha


Ixar of El Dorado

# The Lore of  Ixar of El Dorado

Ixar never thought he needed much

He never saw a reason for props and such

Believing weapons and wands were for a weaker kind

He thought he could be a strong wizard using just his mind

Reading books of magic day and night

He'd get lonely without a familiar in sight

And don't even get him started on runes

All the wizards with them were just "loons"

But Ixar's egotism cost him in the end

His magic was average and he couldn't make a friend

Loneliness was starting to get the best of him

He found a job at the El Dorado Inn

Waving to other wizards to enter the best hotel in town

He fixed his loneliness, but still had a frown

Even though Ixar was a rare wizard with 2-traits

The lack of possessions didn't make for a good fate


Archmagus Orpheus of the Morning Star

# The Lore of Archmagus Orpheus of the Morning Star

In the mysterious world of wizards, everyone has different abilities and weapons. Those who start fire, disappear suddenly, appear out of nowhere, flash lightning, interfere with the flow of nature, talk to animals, dominate plants, those who have not been injured in any war, those who fly in the air, those who can defeat their enemies from far, and even those who are immortal.
All these fantastic features are shared between the good and the evil wizards, and sometimes the good and sometimes the evil dominate the world. An endless fight for dominance does not end.

For every good wizard, there will always be a stronger evil wizard.This struggle, which has been going on for centuries, is finally coming to an end.
The rumor that everyone thinks is a myth is actually true. In an unknown place of the world there is a sorcerer. This sorcerer has a trait that will bring peace to the world.
He can change the minds of everyone he meets. He is a mind bender. Encountering evil wizards is enough to persuade them to peace.

Archmagus Orpheus enters the city with the rising sun one morning.

The world is entering a new era. Now all that needs to be done is to get Orpheus into the council of wizards where all good and evil wizards meet once a century. It's not an easy job. Indeed more close to impossible.


Electromancer Yookoo of the Gnostics

# The Lore of Electromancer Yookoo of the Gnostics

Electromancer Yookoo of the Gnostics grew up listening to tales of great wizards and knew he wanted to follow their path. He strove to be accepted at an academy of magic and succeeded.


Battle Mage Talon of the Oasis

# The Lore of Battle Mage Talon of the Oasis

Battle Mage Talon of the Oasis lived in a mansion. He always found it easy to make friends, and he loved being around people. He became a Hermit because; he never liked the people he called his friends, so it was easy for him to strike out on his own.

Talon became a Wizard because; he grew up listening to tales of great wizards and knew he wanted to follow their path. He strove to be accepted at an academy of magic and succeeded.


Pyromancer Toby of the Forest

# The Lore of Pyromancer Toby of the Forest

Not much is known about Toby. It is told that the wildfires that sprout randomly within the roots of the forest is his doing.


Archmagus Silas of the Event Horizon

# The Lore of Archmagus Silas of the Event Horizon

Archmagus Silas of the Event Horizon lived in a rundown shack. He had a few close friends and lived an ordinary childhood. He became a Soldier because; A relative was a soldier, and he wanted to you carry on the family tradition. He later became a Wizard because; An old wizard chose him from among several candidates to serve an apprenticeship.


Witch Hecate of the Wold

# The Lore of Witch Hecate of the Wold

Witch Hecate of the Wold lived in a large house. Others saw her as being different or strange, and so she had few companions. She became a Charlatan because; she was left to her own devices, and her knack for manipulating others helped her survive. She became a Witch because; One of her ancestors had a pact with their patron, so that entity was determined to bind her to the same agreement.


Thaumaturge Jahid of the Hollow

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Jahid of the Hollow

How long had it been since he first touched the Goblet of Immortality to his lips? How many centuries had passed? Forest had risen in what were once baren lands. Mountains had crumbled. Rivers that once had a purpose, now meandered as if they had no destination at all.  The Quantum Shadow changed everything. It engulfed whatever it touched making things that once were, never to be again.

The Great Owl puffed up his feather as if to protect against the frigid thoughts running through Thaumaturges mind.

Sorry old friend. I let my mind wander. Back to business, shall we?

The journey from Alessars Keep to the Great Owl Oblisk had taken its toll. Here they would prepare the incantation. Here, they would make their final stand against the powers of darkness.


Witch Rita of the Grotto

# The Lore of Witch Rita of the Grotto

She blinked, not remembering much, only to be awakened by the firm bristle and unfamiliar feeling that graced her finger. This was nothing short of uncomfortable, but offset by her lack of vision. She struggled to open her eyes, yet - there it was, an orange tabby of unknown origin, gently licking her hand. Her eyesight was wavering, lost, although she she blinked one last time to make a direct connection within the slit of his sharp green eyes - then his eyes flashed green, and with that green came sparks erupting from her hand. She felt a deep burning sensation, yet it was the first time she felt truly alive. Her eyesight was no longer gone, it was considerably enhanced.

A simple spark, her past gone, and only this magical feline to guide her. No longer lost, nor confused - no longer cold as the fire burned deep within her, she stood up, embracing the flame within her and set forward, lighting her path with an orb of green flame. She thought to herself abruptly.

"There truly is no such thing as an ordinary cat."


Illusionist Ophelia of the Field

# The Lore of Illusionist Ophelia of the Field

Illusionist Ophelia of the Field lived in a rundown shack. She had a few close friends and lived an ordinary childhood. She became a Noble because; she comes from an old and storied family, and it fell to her to preserve the family name. She became a Wizard because; When she became lost in a forest, a hedge wizard found her, took her in, and taught her the rudiments of illusion.


Sorcerer Casper of the Sun

# The Lore of Sorcerer Casper of the Sun

gm, said Casper, and he meant it.


Alchemist  of the Havens

# The Lore of Alchemist  of the Havens

Alchemist of the Heavens - the singular entity that exists at the juncture of creation and destruction. Light and dark. Nothingness and everything.

His name - who he was - was sacrificed so that he could bring color to the world. He is the prism through which darkness passes so that the world may have light.

He gives so that others may have.


Shaman Thor of the Obelisk

Halfling / Shaman
Raised in an asylum, his father abandoned him and his mother was imprisoned. Disgusted by societys decadence Thor decided to leave it behind. He realized that the Gods worked through him. He didnt know why he was chosen to serve. It was Thor that stopped the Evil Druid that had declared war on the Runes.


Enchanter Eliphas of the Road

# The Lore of Enchanter Eliphas of the Road

Enchanter Eliphas of the Road lived in a large house. He had a few close friends and lived an ordinary childhood. He became a Hermit because; He felt compelled to forsake his past, but did so with great reluctance, and sometimes regrets making that decision. He became a Wizard because; He was a prodigy who demonstrated mastery of the arcane arts at an early age. When he became old enough to set out on his own, he did so to learn stronger enchantments and expand his power.


Arcanist Magnus

# The Lore of Arcanist Magnus

Arcanist Magnus loves to burn the candle at night. He burns it for his wife to return home. Then on one night she never returned and so he burned more candles every night for her. Eventually he lit so many candles that his home engulfed in flames. Pitted against the flames and his own rage he burned the entire town. Vowing the burn everything he could.


# The Lore of Grave Robbing Kobold Trollin of the Majestic Filth

Trollin was a Hex Mage who ventured too deep in the Wold. He was trapped in an illusion that rid him of his earthly body. Now he steals from the dead in the Majestic Filth in search of his body in hopes of returning to his former self.


Artificer Daria of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Artificer Daria of the Cosmos

I'm an island boy, just trying to make it :)

Twitter: kaocryptobulls

Yat: https://y.at/%F0%9F%90%B1%F0%9F%92%8E%F0%9F%99%8C%F0%9F%90%B1


Enchanter Arabella of Alfheim

# The Lore of Enchanter Arabella of Alfheim

Raised by wolves and ghosts, Arabella has conquered the lands from Nightfall to Eden with her psyhic bat, Umberto.


Grim Ghoul Hagar of the Royal Wretch

# The Lore of Grim Ghoul Hagar of the Royal Wretch

Hagar, lost soul, heart black as night. Born in the fire, molded by flames.

Wandering endlessly, surviving only on the blood of bears and ripplers foolish enough to stumble across his path.

If you see him, it is already too late...


Hydromancer Hanataka of the Brine

# The Lore of Hydromancer Hanataka of the Brine

My sweet boy - you reek of rotting flesh!! If you caught me on a worse day I would have tossed you into the Sacred Flame!!

Alas, I am a Hydromancer and I shall conjure a cleansing liquid to rid you of such stench.

We have an epic journey at sea that awaits us. If this level of filth returns, well you may have to call the ocean home...

In honor of this cleansing ritual - a brief song.

My sweet kitten

Who we call Ghost

Smells worse than aged gouda

Spread on burnt toast

I shall conjure this liquid

though never again

You're a filthy feline

But true best friend


Magus Faye of the Wild

# The Lore of Magus Faye of the Wild

Faye of the Wild was born by a cabin near the forest. She was later abandoned by her parents at a young and had to fend for herself all alone, no one to help her. She however had a strong connection to the forest and learned how to survive off the plants in the wild. She picked up a stick, that is now her staff, and uses it to stir her concoctions in her Cauldron and to bonk the degenerates that view her in a preculiar way. She is accompanied by a frog named "Jerry" that keeps her senile from the loneliness of the forest.