Draxon of Destiny

Doug and his brother Scott grew up on a small farm in Pennsylvania. Their family made its living farming and raising goats, but since the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic, the boy found their true calling: doing stupid stuff on the farm, filming it and posting it on youtube. They were a pandemic youtube breakout success.

While currently, their account has been suspended due to "the government trying to suppress the truth" or whatever, hopefully some day their videos will be retrieved and uploaded to Arweave or something, where their idiocy can be celebrated by all.

But, secretly, both Doug and Scott always wanted to be fighters. As boys, they played in the woods with home made swords, telling crazy stories of their imaginary adventures... In their more recent years, they have been thrown out of most every bar in their home town for climbing up on stage during shows and trying to fight the musicians. Usually caught on video, these antics helped their youtube star rise!

So, when they found out their neighbour down the road had been hired by a Wizard Cult to bring a pony to downtown Manhattan for a party, they just had to go!

They hitched a ride in the back of the truck for the four hour journey to NYC. The boys had never been to  New York and were in awe of the city! Truly amazing.

They had heard that security was tight, so they slipped into the alley way around the back of the building:!

There, they found a team of workers moving oversized mushrooms, bar equipment, and various other items for the event in through the back doors. Grabbing a piece of gear, slipping in was no problem at all!

"You there, give me a hand setting up the Gate to the Seventh realm!" Doug and Scott looked at eachother... "COME ON, DOORS ARE IN 20 MINUTES! LETS GO!" the stage lead shouted.


Not wanting to blow their cover, they fell in line and followed the lead. Around the corner, they saw it: the Gate to the Seventh Realm in all its glory!

Right then and there, these boys knew this was the beginning of something special, although they had NO CLUE what was in store for them in the hours to come...

Just then Oliver Tree jumped up onto the stage, running his hands up and down the majestic arches of the gate. "Oh yea, this is bitch'n. Gigas Chad approves! Thanks for helping bring this to live boys! Come on round back, let's go do a shot before this party really gets going!"

The boys looked at each other... still totally confused, but not interested in turning down free shots with probably the coolest looking bro in the world.

"Drink up boys! This magic juice has the power to bring us all into the Runiverse! Let's go!!" Oliver Tree said as they all chugged their mystical drink.

"Damn, you guys know how to party huh? This city is full of fakers and posers, but you guy are the real deal! I need more people like you in the Chad Army!"

Doug and Scott said goodbye to the Gigas Chad to who said "Find me on stage later alright? We will party like the yellow wizards! And dude: I love that hat! Mind giving me that hat later? It a sweet hat!"

In that moment, they all felt a tingle run up their spine... something magical was beginning...

The night wore on and the boys tried their best to blend in. Two farm boys from the country had to make up stories about themselves though... it wasn't long before they started introducing themselves as their made up characters:

"I am Draxon of Destiny!" Doug said to some giant green witch man and they drank!


"I am Draxon of Destiny!" Doug said to some giant green witch man and they drank!

"I am @warrior13411" he said to a bunch of people calling themselves morons.

Before too long, the boys were both hammered. And I mean truly krunk. There was something a little magical about these cocktails and it gave them both a sense that the Runiverse was their true home... their true calling!

Then: The show started!!

There was the man, the myth, the legend, Gigas Chad himself!

Maybe it was the drinks, maybe the !magic, maybe the invitation from the Chad himself, but Doug decided this was his moment: Up on stage he went! Dancing with the Chad parting on. It was then Doug remember that the Chad had wanted his hat, so he tried to give it to him: well well...

Doug's Dance with the Chad!

Doug went down but the epic beating he endured as the Chad pounded on him punched holes in the fabric of reality! A gate had been opened!

As the bouncers dragged Doug and Scott away from the stage, they saw the party continue on! As they were thrown out the doors of the party they were cast through a portal:

Instead of landing on the streets of New York City, they tumbled out of the tavern onto a muddy, dirt street. Picking themselves up, they looked around.


Gone were the tall buildings, gone was the pavement and streetscape. The rumbled of subway trains was replaced with horse drawn carts and carriages.. They looked back, and what was the party of the Wizards was now a busy tavern. A pair of imps tumbled out onto the street after them, laughing and singing in some foreign language. A purple wizard muttering to himself walked into the bar and a they could see a lady with a giant Gae Bolg arguing with the bar manager about what a "reasonable size of weapon to bring into a tavern was".

The brothers looked at each other and shouted in unison:

"AWESOME!!!!!"

And so began the adventures of Draxon of Destiny and Scott of the Swamp!


Magus Huizhong of the Sands

# The Magus of the Sands

Magus Huizhong of the Sands. The Shifting Veil. The Eyes of the Desert. Huizhong goes by many names, though those familiar with his power simply call him The Magus.

Hailing from the copper sands of the Tong Wastelands, The Magus is the warden of the Shaolin temple that lies deep within the belly of the unforgiving desert. Bending the searing winds to his will, he makes venturing to the temple a near-impossible task, if not a death wish. Churning quicksand surrounds the temple grounds for miles. Three sand twisters as tall as mountains encircle the temple itself, patrolling the area like elemental guards and radiating smaller dust devils in their wake. And if one were fleet-of-foot enough to bypass even those barriers, no man nor magic could evade the gaze of The Eyes. By channeling through the vision of his crow companion, he becomes The Eyes to reveal both the invisible and deceitful before him. And once seen by The Magus, there is no escape without punishment.

What power is held within the temple that requires such protection, such isolation? Legend has it that the book that gifted The Magus with his abilities is stowed somewhere deep beneath the compound. But until the temple is breached, the truth shall remain shrouded in the mystery of legends.


Druid Corky of the Brambles

O Corky of the house of Brambles!

In constant pursuit of the approval of others, he wanders from court to tavern to jest and part tales of humor to any and all that will lend him an ear.


Archmagus Oberon of the Hills

Archmagus Oberon of the Hills committed many crimes due to this he had to learn how to turn back time. Oberon watches from the hills beware Oberon of the Hills.


Evoker Alessar of El Dorado

Eoker Alessar of El Dorado is in communicado with many others from El Dorado. Alessar commands a frog named Bog, Bog awaits for its prince for Alessar is unkind and binds Bog to Bogs fate. Therefore Bog is full of hate.


Elgar Apocalypse of Nightmare Paradise

# New Lore Entry for Elgar Apocalypse of Nightmare Paradise

Elgar Apocalypse of Nightmare Paradise and his raptor ready for battle with the help of a @soul6520

>Baron Von Fancy's vision brought to reality by the amazing Wise Sam
Summer of 2022


Alchemist Jahid of the Marsh

# New Lore Entry

_Delete below sample to write your own_

This where you can write your lore.... we use markdown to store it on chain.... You can see how it will appear/render in the preview panel.

Here is some **bold** text
Here is some *italic* text

> Here is quoted text
> *by a lore writer*

## Example of a medium heading
### Example of a smaller heading

# Images
You can add images via links, OR, upload from your computer using the toolbar.

### Image uploads

Use the toolbar image icon to upload an image to IPFS. Once uploaded (to IPFS) they also appear as a link, like so:

### External Image Links

To add image (or anything else) as a link, you can do it via the toolbar link icon, or just write the syntax below like so:

### Embedded videos

Oh yeah, if you just put in a YouTube link (no special syntax) on its own then it shows it embedded, see below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30b7_S0paCQ

# Getting new lines right

New lines can be a bit funny.... there are two options:

**First**

Press enter twice. I am typing here, and now pressing enter twice after three dotrs...

and now I am here (but you did get double spacing)

**Second**

Type two spaces *before* pressing enter. Here come two spaces after the three dots followed by enter...
and now I am here

# Tagging other characters

You can tag other wizards, souls etc in any normal text (so not a heading or a link). Here are some examples:

Best wizard of all is @wizard2140. His dreams of befriending @pony0 one day. Watch out for @soul1732!


Sage Xiaosheng of the Thorn

THE EASTERN WITCH aka Sage Xiaosheng of the Thorn raises her golden glass to thee. That trifling whore. But alas the weak must fear the strong as Sage Xiaosheng of the Thorn would whisper as you drink your last drink from her golden goblet.


Battle Mage Gunthor of the Capital

# (Battle Mage) *Gunthor the Green* (of the Capital)

"I like green.", those were the words of Gunthor when asked by the arcane instructor what he wanted for his familiar.

"Very well, here. Take this slime. Now, for your wand..."

"I like green."

"Well, unfortunately, our wands are real wood. Unless you want the plastic garbage that the regular folks use for everything. But you don't want that. So, here's a nice mapl-"

"I like green. What about this mushroom?", said Gunthor, taking off his hat to reveal an oversized mushroom beneath. "I've been keeping it here for months. It's gotta be imbued with magic at this point."

"Uhhh, wha -- never mind. Look, you're a Battle Mage, Gunthor. Well, supposed to be at any rate -- what are you going to do with a mushroo--",

"*Magic* Mushroom", Gunthor interrupted. "Well, probably magic. And I don't really know. Mushroom things. What am I going to do with a slime? You're still giving me one of those."

The arcane instructor sighed, "Okay, you know what. You don't need a wand. Most of the other Wizards don't use a wand anyway, for whatever reason. The mushroom is a bit of a stretch, but, you like green so have at it."

"I do like green.", Gunthor nodded in agreement, now holding his mushroom triumphantly.

"Great. Just...try not to battle with anything big. Or armed. Or armoured. Or magical. Or scary. Actually, just try not to battle at all, waving a mushroom around like that. A corpse would probably give you trouble."

"Nah. Mushrooms love corpses. Where do you think I found it?"


"Nah. Mushrooms love corpses. Where do you think I found it?"

"...Right. Okay, well, we're done here. You were born in December, so you get a Mercury rune. Or something, I've never really bothered to learn astrology - it got dropped from the curriculum for a reason. Mortal Magic, we call it. Anyway -- Doesn't fit in with your aesthetic 100%, but that will be part of the charm I suppose."

"Can it be green?"

"No - runes are runes. They're not coloured. Life can't all be green, Gunthor. Just look at your hat."

"That's a good point", said Gunthor, reaching towards the wall of familiars where his slime still sat, and plucked a feather from one of the Jewled *(sic)* Hummingbirds and stuck it into his hat. "There. Now it's sort of green." Gunthor said cheerfully. "Besides, if it was green it wouldn't match the beard. And you don't want to see me without a beard."

"Oh, wait a minute", Gunthor continued, "Can I just take this hummingbird, rather than the slime? Might be more useful. Less squishy. And it can fly."

"No. Sorry. They're all spoken for, and they're expensive. Also, the hummingbird absolutely does not want to go with you after the maneuver you just pulled" the instructor scoffed, pointing to the bird which was simultaneously looking mournfully at its feather, now perched atop Gunthor's hat, and resentfully at the rest of him.


"Alright, your loss, bird. I'm going to go do mushroom things. Green mushroom things. And my slime, uh, Gary, will come too" The slime, now called Gary (the Green), jumped down from the familiar shelf, looking as happy as a slime can look. Gunthor turned to move toward the door, but not before flourishing his cape over his face like something out of a Zoro movie. The move was not as cool as Gunthor thought it was, evidenced by the chuckles of pure cringe emanating from the rest of his class. Gunthor paid them no heed.

"It's been a slice", Gunthor smirked, "...of key lime pie." The chuckles turned to groans.

And with that, Gunthor the mushroom-wielding Battle Mage ventured out into the Capital in search of greener pastures.


Mitch Swindler of the Riverlands

Mitch "Swindler" was born into a family of hunters in the Riverland's. From a young age, he was fascinated by the dinosaurs that roamed the land. He would often go out on hunting trips with his father and uncles, and learned all the tricks of the trade.

As he got older, Mitch became known as the best hunter in the Riverland's. His great hunts led to the discovery of many new species of dinosaurs, including some of the savage predators. His reputation grew, and he was even asked to help domesticated some of the more dangerous dinosaurs.

Mitch's skills as a hunter are legendary, and he is still revered as one of the greatest hunters of all time.


Elgar Apocalypse of Nightmare Paradise

# New Lore Entry for Elgar Apocalypse of Nightmare Paradise's Azure Raptor
my name is din
i am a saur
i thank you for
this pile of gore
when i have supped
and made my own
behold my scales
will turn to bone

> *by LOREPUNK*
Summer of 2022


Magus Koop of El Dorado

# Magus Koop of El Dorado

## Entry Two:  The Orb Staff

In his twenty-third year, Koop often found himself running the family store alone. He enjoyed visits from local wizards and witches and began to trade for spell scrolls and other magical trinkets. One day a *Stranger* came seeking onyx powder, a peculiar reagent used primarily for necromancy.

"Hail traveler!" Koop greeted the man warmly. Without a word **The Stranger** removed a staff wrapped in cloth from his back and placed it on the table. He fished a purchase order from his pocket and extended it to Koop. "Oh! onyx powder? A most interesting request. I will fetch it right away." The Anuran set about filling a leather pouch with the coarse black powder. With his order filled, the man removes the covering from his staff and hands it to Koop. It was a sturdy thing, with a great blue orb at its head, he could feel the power radiating from it. "Tis a fair trade. You have a deal sir." **The Stranger** departed in silence, his task fulfilled.

"Tell Master Krick that the boy has accepted the staff."


Battle Mage Brutus of the Pit

# The Lore of Battle Mage Brutus of the Pit

**Prologue**

_In a dark space of the high-tier reality, a Controller scrutinized the Life of Wizards searching for signs.
And there he found the young Mage, and observed his Life._

_The Controller admitted the boy had raw potential in his plane of existence and he was naturally connected to the forces of Magic. Yet he was not in control, he was still a victim of the chaotic turbulence of magical Will in the Great Game._

_He decided he would guide him on the Path of the Truth and give him the chance to become his Champion._

**Act 1: The calm before the storm**

_One_exhales_Two_exhales_Three_exhalesthe breathing routine always induced a warm and calming effect on Brutus.

He could sense the Magic energy in his body flowing ordinately back to the accumulation points.

This time he had pushed his limits too far and returning to a normal state was taking its toll on his mind.

Since his childhood he had learned on his own how to tame the magical forces flowing through him. He had to compromise with them to lead a normal life.
Left without control, the forces could flow freely through his body and to the external world, with a killing intent for any life around him, including his own.
The more he let them prevail on his Will, the higher his power and his chances of survival in any situation would be. But this came at the price of losing control of his very human nature while letting Magic act its will, with no memory of what happened.

Because of his nature, he was prevented to complete the strict and rigorous training of the School of Arcane Arts and was forced to drop out.
Rejected from the magical elite, the Army of the Realm welcomed him in the military ranks and trained him to employ his raw magical skills in combat.


Now a mercenary, fighting was his nature and a way to unleash his potential without regrets and explore the World.

Fellow warriors admired his deadly outbursts in battle, often comparing him to a Berserker of Magic, having no clue on the heavy toll suffered and difficult recovery.
He hated being called Brutus for his style, yet he could not reveal to anyone his real name.

Was this the life he dreamt of as a child? How many times did he ask himself? Sometimes he felt like he had no control not even on his very dreams and memories.
Only his resolution to understand the most fundamental nature of Magic has always been bright and clear in his mind, allowing him to endure his quest for magical research and training.

After a few more breaths Brutus opens his eyes and stands up, feeling calm and ready to start the day.
He puts on his dark robes, covering the complex glyphs marking his body. His loyal familiar rabbit Zip promptly arrives at his feet looking at him with expectation.
The mage looks briefly at Zip: familiar, friend and sole anchor to his humanity maybe without realizing it.

You are hungry, my friend? You are right, lets get some food. Zip perceives the mental statement from Brutus and quietly moves toward the door with rapid jumps.

Brutus collects his bow and the bag and leaves his house in the woods, with Zip quickly preceding him and disappearing in the bushes to reach his favourite spot for herbs.

Suddenly, Brutus feels a warm sensation on the palm of his left hand and quickly takes off his glove. The glyph on his hand is glowing of a pale purple color. The wizard knows the meaning from the divinatory artefact: danger is approaching.

After casting a basic protection spell, Brutus jumps into the forest sending a mental heads-up to Zip. I hope you had time to eat a little snack, they found us. Ill have my lunch later.


He then prepared for battle with a subtle smile crossing his face.


Ryan Dread of Robots

My Friends call me Butch, Its not my real name, my parents, God rest their souls, baptized me Ryan after my grand father.
That was before some Robots controlled by some wicked wizards decided to murder them, you might wonder why. Dont.

I hate those Machines.

Pop was a Butcher, I always carry his knife with me and that made the dread of robots.
I have very few pleasure in this life, but when I see that little light going off in those droids fake eyes Im gonna tell you, that is pure joy.

Our world is possessed by some ancient powers, they are hiding in the shadows, lots of things have been forgotten.

But when I will be done with those machines, I will come for their masters.

Magic will die and Warriors will rule.

And then you will call me, Ryan, Dread of Wizards.


Vampyre Damien of the Havens

The Egg was cold as a crypt. It was like this since he first touched it. He tried to heat it up with candle light, spells, even the heat of a blackmsiths forge. No result. But Damien was almost sure a little bit of Sacred Flame could bring the unborn creature in it to life

He just needs to be very careful around the flame. Vampyres are not exactly fire resistant and Sacred Flame is not exactly a regular fire. But the science must go on. And Damien must know what kind of creature is in the egg.


Evoker Nicolas of the Marsh

Nicolas' cousin, Snake of the Plisskin, taught him the ways of wizard...

Snake could escape from ANY city, thus Nicolas and his trusty broom learnt how to Conjure, Summon & Disappear from one of the best.

A rogue till the end, Snake taught Nicolas all he knew, with Nicolas now roaming the plains and marshes of the wild - keeping his one good eye open for trouble.


Wraith Knight Bayard of the Worms

# ARCANE ENFORCEMENT AGENCY
# CRIMINAL RECORD
#
### NAME
#
Arch Gravelord Bayard of the Worms
#
### PHOTO NO.
#
7088
#

#
### KNOWN ALIASES
#
Left Hand of the Heretic, Wraith Knight Bayard
#
### CRIME(S)
#
Omnicide, Necromancy, Sacrilege
#
### KNOWN ACCOMPLICES
#
Sorcerer Aldus of the Morning Star (AKA "The Heretic")


### BACKGROUND
#
Bayard was a gifted student at the Arcanum of the Sacred Pillars, the prestigious academy known for their renowned alumni and aristocratic blue uniforms. Though brilliant in the summoning arts, his academic disciplinary record demonstrated that he persistently sought power through nefarious means. In his fourth year, Bayard was summoned before the Arcanum Grandmasters to answer for accusations of performing necromancya circle of magic that was expressly forbidden. He was deemed unfit to continue his studies and was expelled, which led to the occurrence of the event known as the Acheron Soul incident. Bayard's notoriety as an accomplished necromancer caught the attention of The Heretic who recruited him to serve as a Wraith Knight during his imperial campaign across the Runiverse. At the height of the campaign, Bayard was appointed Left Hand of the Heretic and Arch Gravelord to command the newly formed Grave Legion (AKA "The Worms"). Grave Legion was comprised of some of the most talented and inventive necromancers of the era. Bayard himself was a grandmaster of the necromantic arts which earned him second-in-command of the heretic's forces. The Arch Gravelord was an intelligent and ruthless commander. Several disturbing artifacts have been found which confirm the rumors that following the defeat of notable enemies, Bayard would transmute their souls into inanimate objects, so they would remain sentient yet tragically restricted. Though most historians regard the black arts, including necromancy, as a debasement and perversion of magic, it is indisputable that the magical acts committed by Bayard and his Worms pushed the boundaries of magic to limits never before conceived possible at the time.
#
Excerpt from a journal found following the fall of The Heretic's forces:


### LAST KNOWN LOCATION
#
Bayard is presumed dead. However, unconfirmed reports have identified an individual matching his description in the western region of the Valley of the Void Disciple.


Hedge Wizard Brown Cow of the Steppe

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Brown Cow of the Steppe

People still walk up and say how now
to me. Sometimes they moo. They think its cute,
I guess. My bunny, slightly resolute,
wiggles her nose. Grew up pulling a plow,
I did. Saved up for wizard college, where
I learned wonders amidst velvets and silks
and finest crystal. Sold a little milk
for my expenses. Lighter than the air
are student longings to build and create
the latest wonder. Folk thought me a joke
for my horns, and the rounded words I spoke
with bovine lips. But they still hesitate
and snicker, while, refined, I bask in wealth.
I shrug my shouldersdrink up to their health.


Alchemist Asmodeus of the Brambles

# Chapter 1: A thickening plot
Asmodeus slipped his potent mandrake potion back into his green coveralls as the Sage approached down the gloomy corridor of the Citadel crypt.

Do you have what was promised? he asked.

No time for pleasantries eh? replied @wizard2885. He tossed a bulging pouch over to Asmodeus. The contents clinked heavily as he caught it. Asmodeus untied the cord and checked the coins inside, before tucking his payment away next to the vial of potion.

Time is money, Sage. What would you have me do?

Otto chuckled, raising his hands placatingly. Fair enough Alchemist, straight to business then. Ive discovered that the Empress is a fraud  her name is Circe, and shes a Charmer from Red Wizard Capital. Shes been using her eternal rose to hold the entire city in thrall. The Council is willing to pay triple what I just gave you if you succeed in overturning the spell she has cast over the city.

He looked around, then leaned in close and spoke softly in the Asmodeus ear. My benefactor will double your fee again if you can expose the fact that shes a Red Wizard. But nobody can know where the information comes from. If you can capture her accomplice and deliver her to him unharmed well, then you can name your price.

Asmodeus nodded wordlessly and vanished into the shadows. Otto cleared his throat uncomfortably, his false bravado vanishing as quickly as the alchemist. He wondered if ignoring his instincts and enlisting the help of a rogue arcanist was such a sensible idea after all. They were notoriously unpredictable, albeit effective. Not for the first time, he found his mind at odds with himself why did this whole plan trouble him so?


Finally, shaking his head, he turned and made his way back out of the crypts into a sunlit corridor of the palace. Back out in the open air, away from the damp, mouldy atmosphere of the crypt, he felt more confident again. His mind was hazy, though. He struggled to remember any details about the end of his mission in the forest or how he had got back to the Citadel  when he tried to recall any specific events, they slipped out of his reach like a river perch through the fingers.

Images tugged faintly at his mind  a wizard bells on his shoes, and a silky yellow cape stars spinning low in the air a faint waft of hops and barley floating in the deep dark burrow of his psyche. He frowned, struggling to find meaning in his fragmented memories as they slipped away.

# Chapter 2: Slime into wine
Asmodeus crouched in the shadows looking down on the bedchamber. @wizard3914, and @wizard4841 sat huddled together on a plush divan beneath a glittering chandelier that probably cost more than the alchemists parents had ever earned in their entire lifetime. The younger woman  scarcely old enough to be called such  was telling a story of some fantastical adventure in a lazy drawl; the supposed Empress listened avidly,  her hand resting on Bathshebas forearm as she stared up at her companions face with a rapt expression, her eyes sparkling.


Two goblets and a pitcher of wine sat on the table next to the divan. Asmodeus smiled to himself and delicately pulled the stopper from the vial of mandrake potion. Amber, his topaz slime familiar, oozed her way from his shoulder, down his chest and onto his knee. He petted her softly and then dripped several drops of the potion onto her round, orange body. Her skin rippled, instantaneously absorbing the drug, then she flowed along the ceiling beam and down one of the rich tapestries hanging from the walls.

Asmodeus watched the two foxes that lay at the foot of the divan, keeping an eye out for any sign that they sensed Ambers approach, but they were also far too engrossed in each other to notice anything untoward.

Amber crept her way up the leg of the table. Noting that none of the rooms occupants were paying any attention, she flowed up the pitchers handle and hung part of her gelatinous body over the lip. Asmodeus saw a small wisp of smoke puff up from the surface of the wine as Amber dipped herself into it, and the lower half of her body flushed a deep burgundy.

Her task done, the slime retracted her body and made her way unsteadily back towards the wall at the far end of the chamber. Asmodeus noticed that she was oozing in not quite as straight a line as before. As she approached the tapestry, she let out a small hiccup. Asmodeus eyes widened in alarm; one of the foxes had raised its head and looked around suspiciously. The alchemist held his breath. Thankfully Amber kept enough of her wits about her to remain completely still. Eventually the fox settled back down, and the alchemist calmed his jangling nerves, then settled down to wait.


As Amber made her way slowly up the tapestry, Circe reached over and poured more wine into the two goblets, handing one to Bathsheba. He held his breath.

The two wizards knocked their goblets together, but then Circe leant over and whispered something in Bathshebas ear. The Hex Mage gave a short, throaty laugh, and tilted her head, allowing the Charmer to plant small kisses up her neck as the goblets dangled precariously from their fingers. Asmodeus gritted his teeth. The slime was now wobbling along the wooden beam, almost losing her balance. Asmodeus frowned at her, but Amber made a gesture reminiscent of a shrug and squelched her way onto his leg.

He turned his attention back to the wizards below, willing them to drink, but for the moment they were too involved in each other to think of wine. Bathsheba took Circes goblet from her and placed them both back on the side table. Asmodeus winced.

Once the mandrake potion took hold, he could begin to put his plan in motion, but if they did not drink the wine, he would be forced to find another way to administer it. Without the potions magic, he would never be able to strip bare the Charmers spell and push the Citadel towards war with Red Wizard Capital. Relations already rested on a knifes edge  if her deception was revealed, finding out that their beloved Empress was in fact a Red imposter would send the Citadel into a frenzy and then, who knew what other opportunities would arise for a rogue arcanist with the perfect blend of ambition, daring, and intelligence? If he leveraged the situation just right, it would be Asmodeus calling the shots, and the Wizarding Council scurrying to obey. But first, they needed to drink.


Finally, Bathsheba gently pressed her partner back onto the plush cushions of the divan and stretched over her to retrieve the two glasses of wine.

The alchemist leaned over expectantly as they raised the glasses to their lips.

They drank, and Asmodeus felt the stress flow out of his body; it wouldnt be long before the potions effects began to take hold

Still perched on his knee, Amber let out a violent hiccup. Aghast, Asmodeus slapped his hand over where he figured her mouth to be.

His stomach a cold, hard knot, he looked down and saw four pairs of startled and furious eyes glaring up at him.

## Story Arc Index:
Prologue: @wizard3914

Part 1: @pony77

Part 2: @wizard2877

Part 3: @wizard1175

Part 4: @wizard3901

Part 5: @wizard4841

Part 6: @wizard2885

Part 7: @wizard3917

Part 8: @wizard6084


Broadwin Calamity of Zero

# New Lore Entry for Broadwin Calamity of Zero

Portrait of Broadwin Calamity of Zero in his youth.

> *Artwork by ZkitZz. Commissioned by Baron Von Fancy. Summer of 2022*


Magus Amir of the Mount

# AMIR, DEATH'S DEMISE

### Chapter 0: Love is the beginning, middle, and end of suffering.

It all starts with an invitation to get drinks at The Tavern. @wizard4159, a childhood friend of Amir, wanted to catch up on all the things that have happened since their last reunion just a few years ago. Within five minutes of their first beer - Amir spots a beautiful Floral Master across the bar...

Amir is trying his best to keep his excitement out of view, but he is beyond giddy at this moment. This may very well be his first time speaking to a woman in years... albeit one a third his age.

Amir waves the lady over and invites her to join the boys for a beer. One beer leads to a few and they are all having a splendid time. The conversation is mostly the two gentlemen asking the young @wizard4311 a barrage of questions about herself. She is reserved and shy, which has them both overcome with lust.

Pandora quickly gets up and brushes herself off. Amir and Horace are confused, and out of nowhere she grabs Amirs hand and pulls him up.

*Let's Go*

Pandora lets go of Amirs hand and quickly exits the building, smiling on her way out.

Horace warns Amir that there have been rumours of disappearing wizards all over the Runiverse. Rumblings of some so-called "Forgotten Souls" sightings have become common and worrisome. But Amir tells Horace that this is a simple, casual encounter and that there is nothing to worry about.


Pandora jumps on her pony, motions over Amir to jump on and off they go! Amir is a bit confused how this shy and quiet young lady is so quickly turned on by such casual conversation! He must have his mojo back! After a few minutes of galloping, they approach a weirdly shaped house. He had heard something about this place, but his memory isn't what it used to be...

Pandora jumps off her pony and briskly walks towards the front door of The Weird House, and lets herself inside, closing the door on the way in.

Amir, at this point a bit tipsy and excited, takes his robe off and runs towards the door. Opening the door, his excitement quickly turns into horror...

There stood @wizard3930, standing in front of **The Sacred Flame**. Drako looks deep into Amir's eyes, cackles in excitement and blows as hard as he can into **The Sacred Flame** ...

> _The smell of burning hair is one you never forget..._


Munchkin the Tactical

Munchkin comes from a long proud line of Warponies. Schooled from a young age in the the art of war these ponies are no ordinary ponies. On the field of battle they can save your life, they instinctively know where to be, when to charge, when to fall back. In battle they are the ultimate companion. Outside of battle they will get you where you need to be, in the quickest most efficient time possible. Munchkin was set to be the latest of her line to enter into service as a trusted steed for a warrior commander. There were a couple of small issues, to be a war pony in the warrior ranks you have to be a model pony, and Munchkin is not this! Stubborn and impulsive this pony is a firecracker, a maverick in the pony ranks. No amount of training could train this out of her and so when her class graduated she was overlooked by the commanders of the warrior ranks and set free. So now she lives


ranks and set free. So now she lives on the Steppe, roaming free but still dreaming of finding a rider who she can ride free with, one that will understand her and respect her freedom!


Wraith Deacon Zaim of the Royal Wretch

****

# Zaim knew nothing before the flame.
All that existed before that day has faded into the existence of time.
From within the flames he was Ordained a Deacon of the Royal Wretch.
The 7th to engulf himself on that October night. Zaim is brave, and he emerged even more powerful than before.

Transformed by that twisted nature into a soul, Zaim now shares an affinity with the undead. Now immortally locked to this universe, the soul of the once wizard now crawls the earth serving the Royal Wretch.

Not often seen by mortals, he lurks in the shadows of his keep. Rumored to be one of the experimental surgeons for the Wraith King himself. Whispers of who he once was fill the air as the city watches smoke bellow from Zaim's tower in the mountains on a nightly basis.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Act 1


Magus Koop of El Dorado

# Magus Koop of El Dorado

## Entry Three: The Red Mist

It was a cold night. The skies were clear and the moonlight shone brightly through Koop's window. The young wizard was closing up shop and preparing to head home. Just as he moved towards the door, fear gripped his heart. His arms felt heavy and the room began to spin as he fell to his knees. He could see it now. A fine red mist poured through a gap under the door. Though barely conscious, Koop could see the swirling mist form into the shape of a man. The figure approached him and spoke in a voice like metal grinding on stone.

** "In a moment I will be gone and your strength will return. Listen carefully for I will not repeat myself. Pack your things, taking only what you need for the journey ahead. You will travel to The Thorn and seek out @wizard6001. When you find the witch, speak the passphrase '*nos focus manere*' and you will receive further instructions." **

In a flash of crimson smoke the visitor was gone. Koop was alone again. He had never traveled more than a days walk from home, and didn't know how to explain this to his father. He dared not refuse this quest and risk another visit from the red mist, so he set about packing for the journey. Before leaving, he scribbled a note and nailed it to the door. While doing so, he noticed a strange rune inscribed just above the peephole. He prepared a simple ward of protection and cast it over the shop. Hoping it would be enough. With a heavy heart and his staff in hand, he set out on the road.


Clairvoyant  of the Brine

When I saw mushroom head
When I saw mushroom head
When I saw mushroom head
I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead
When I saw mushroom head
When I saw mushroom head
When I saw mushroom head
I was born and I was dead
I was born and I was dead


Adele Contender of the Rock

# My Brine

The Brine was my life, an ocean where I could finally be free.

There is a lot of things I could share with you here, things that would make you sad, upset or even mad.
But I do not see the point, whats done is done and we should all look forward, there is always a price to pay, a weight to carry

I was not born on the water, but when you are stuck on the donut atoll, it is kind of the same. So I grabbed my zulli suit, left the gutter and called myself a corsair.
You might not be aware of it, our world used to be filled with Magic, constant, permanent. It was like oxygen.
The Oubly-ons happened, people forgot a lot of things, I didnt say all. This is the time I started to sail the Brine, this is also the time the Warriors really started their existence, not against what was left of the wizards but more like beside.

About that day, I dont remember much, no one does, at least the one with no special acquaintance with magic. I suspect this is not really natural, some real crap must have happened.
I heard rumors of some beasts and their spawns, some pirates mentioning gates with magical locks, other corsairs like me even discussing some magical ponies. Quite a bag of fairy dust if you ask me, Im not easily convinced by tricks and stories made up by drunks.

Anyway, If you are here its because you are interested in those things, but let me tell you my story first, Adele Contender of the Rock.

A Rock like no other, A Rock you wont even find on the map of the Runiverse, a Rock in the middle of my Brine.

And if you come for us, be ready for the worst.


Archmagus Oberon of the Gnostics

Archmagus Oberon of the Gnostics, a solitary wizard who finds solace in the company of the forest and its many creatures. A gentle character, ill-suited to life in the citadel, choosing instead to withdraw to the Hedge Wizard Wood to follow his calling and dedicate his life to the natural world. His intrinsic connection to the natural allows him to communicate with the language-less, heal the weak, and act as protector to all forest dwellers. Disruptions to his peaceful constitution come only as an act of valor in retaliation to threats imposed upon the natural order. Drawn from deep within the earth, his substantial power works in tandem with the elements and has been known to alter weather and time. Legend says he has only been seen emerging from the woodland to remedy the ill or guide strangers gone astray. He is defender of the flora, ally to the fauna, the forbearing wizard of the shadowed wood.


Illusionist Hobbs of the Rock

# Hobbs Diary, no snooping Kooplings!

### Dear Diary:

Today I hiked the border of Bright Rock cave and went down into Shadytown to visit my cousins.  Everyone is graying.  They seem to be forgetting more.  I cooked a big pot of shroom stew and did a light show.  The shady Koops orange'd up and began to sing!  While they sang I patrolled the outskirts.  Dark creep is spreading over the fading crystals.  I re-charged what I could, but I dont have enough sparkle.  Ill ask the review board for another allocation of sparkle shine, but they are so busy with production, I doubt they can spare any.

Oh, and on my way back to Brightville a curious thing occurred; some shady Koops were glowsticking a dark creep tendril, but it didnt behave like a normal umbral pest, so I dispelled darkness and a white rabbit appeared!  The rabbit looked at me and I heard words of thanks in my mind before it scurried away!

### Dear Diary,

Sad news, I didnt get the part.  My audition for handsome elf number 7 was rejected by central casting because your handsome elf illusion was neither handsome nor recognizably an Elf.  I guess thats fair.  My disguises are pretty random and usually cross eyed. Welp, I guess Ill keep practicing and working with the stage crew.

### Dear Diary,


### Dear Diary,

The Brightville shiny stones seem a bit dimmer.  I waited in line to see the council today about the increased dark creep in Shadytown.  I asked if the central crystal chandelier was dimming too.  They got very angry at me.  I was surprised.  I asked if we could maybe share some of the stage light shiny stones to help the Shadies push back dark creep, but the masked council just had me removed.  Now Im told I shouldnt show up to work tomorrow?  Whats happening?

Dear Diary,

That white rabbit came to see me.  His name is Number One.  He speaks without moving his mouth.  He says hes a messenger from the Shining Mount, the Temple of the Sacred Flame has been damaged.  He says he told the council that the sorcerers need help, but they refused to listen.  Maybe this is why they got so mad at me?  They need so much of the imported sacred light to work the scrying stages and keep the operas going.  Tele-magic shows make all the money and the council is so rich now!  Oh what am I feeling, is this anger?  Ooooohh I dont like this, diary!

The Rabbit asked if I could help him. He asked  if I know any powerful mages who could fight an evil corruption.  Well, I know how to keep the dark creep away and light a stage, but I dont know about all this!

### Dear Diary,

I went to Shadytown and asked my cousins for help.  They seem scared.  I noticed a masked watcher watching us.  My cousins seemed unwilling to talk openly, and hurried back to work glowsticking the creep.


When I got home there were more Masked councilmen at my hole house.  They gave me my belongings and told me I live in Shadytown now.  They escorted me out of Brightville, my neighbors looking away, my shiny cousins nowhere to be seen! They took me to the outskirts, where the deep dark creep borders Rock Cave. They pushed me into the creep! I couldnt believe what was happening.  My vision darkened, I felt my color draining.  I tried to cry out but the creep muffled me.  I tried to spark a magic light but my sparkle juice was drained away.  I was dying, looking out from the dark as the masked ones walked away.

Then I saw the rabbit, leading my Shadytown cousins to me. They batted back the creep with glowsticks and pulled me out, just in time

They told me the council had declared me anathema, that I was not welcome in the bright light.  I told them my theory, that they were hoarding all the Shining Mount imported Sacred Light for the tele-magick stage production so they could keep scry-casting and getting paid.  This angered them, but what could they do?  They were shady, gray and weaker every day.

The Rabbit told us there was a chance, if we help restore the Sacred Flame, they would personally vouch for Shadytown and make sure our allotment of Sacred Light was sufficient.

I had no home, my cousins were fading, my auditions a disaster, my illusion magics were a mess.  What did I have to lose?

Lets do an adventure, Number One, I said. We gathered glowsticks and myco-loaf and snuck into the mirror stone tunnels, reflections of the Sacred Light bouncing between facets all around us.

### Dear Diary,


### Dear Diary,

Its been a week in the crystal pipe.  The shine is disorienting at times.  There is definitely something off about the Sacred Flame, some wisp of darkness in it.  I cant look away because its reflected a thousand times all around me.

I was pulled out of reverie to find Number One looking at me like I had food on my face, so I checked my reflection.  My illusions are flowing and I didnt even know it!  I still cant control the exact appearance, but I was conjuring a bubbling faade of images from... from I dont know where.  I looked like an old human with weary eyes, then a squid face, then a spirit of magic incarnate!  If only I could control what image comes from my imagination.  I dont even know what Im imagining half the time!

Number One leapt back. How do you know the Silent One? they asked me. I told him I dont know what they mean.  I rushed to check my reflection and caught a wisp before it transitioned, some sort of gray blur of swirling lines with eyes like deep portals and... teeth.

Number One told me I should turn back, that this adventure is not going to succeed.  They wouldnt say anymore.

### Dear Diary,

We reached the Temple complex.  Number One took me through an access tunnel to avoid entering via the infested Labyrinth.  They told me more about the situation, that some of the sorcerer priests had tried to corrupt the Sacred Flame during the stoking ritual.  They say a few uncorrupted sorcerers were able to interrupt the coup and save the flame with defensive wards.  High priest Amir [@wizard5137] locked the twisted souls of his fallen brothers in the Labyrinth.


Amir is a stern man, saying very little.  He seemed unimpressed with me and asked where the powerful Masked Kooplings were.  The halls of the cloister were eerie and empty as he took me to my chambers.  There are blank-faced statue Golems tending to the daily chores. Amir says the few surviving priests have been sent as emissaries to petition support.

I met a young icewalker named Oberon [@wizard2473].  He isnt much of a talker, but seems nice enough.  Hes constantly practicing his lightning bolt in his room-- the thunder clap makes it hard to sleep.

Number One scurried away on other business.  Its cold and creepy here, only a few braziers lit in the dusty main hall, golems scuffling around, Emir in his chambers writing letters day and night.

Oberon asked what I can do.  I showed him my dazzle lights and he laughed.  Not gonna stop a ghoul from biting your orange face, innit?

I dont know. Will it?

### Dear Diary,

Phew, that put the bright orange back in my cheeks!  Amir led a squad of armor golems, Oberon and myself into the Labyrinth.  My heart pounded as the clockwork seals of that massive stone door unlatched!  There was mad laughing and taunting on the other side of the door, but when it opened, nothing


I put a rainbow fairy glamour on the lead golem.  We progressed through the chambers seemingly at random, Amir locking and sealing all the doors we did not use.  We were securing a path to the Inner Sanctum.  In the silence I began to hear whispers, small voices in my head;  Do you trust this traitor? Will you be his fleshy sacrifice?  The voices intensified, I looked around at the rest of my party and they all seemed distracted. Amir was grabbing his ears and shaking his head, not minding control of the golems as they wandered too far ahead.

The lead golem turned a corner and the light went out.  All was still for a moment, until Amir shouted Theyre upon us!

I flared a bright crystal glamour, a stage trick we use to distract the audience while changing the stage illusions. In the strobing flash I saw their crooked, grinning faces-- pustulent corpses in bloody priest robes, twitching as they lunged at us with knives of sharpened bone.

The glamour dazzled the ghouls long enough for me to step back and leave a mirror image in my stead.  A ghoul with a gaping head wound hissed Youll never take the flame! as he stabbed through my illusory self and stumbled to the ground. I slammed my heel on his scabby arm and heard a crack.


The hair on my neck stood up a split second before a crack and a boom and a bright fork of blue electricity. Oberon screeched Reeeeeeeeee!! as he channeled an impressive chain of lightning.  A string of undead priests crackled and convulsed. In the melee I saw Amir raise his scepter, the jewel glowing with a red, vacuous hunger, and fell a ghoul with one stroke, repeatedly bashing him once down.  The golems returned and formed a shield wall around us.  Oberon passed out from exertion. We withdrew in haste.

Of course Id rehearsed silly battle scenes before, but this was something else! If the fight was an audition, would I get the part?

### Dear Diary,

With Oberons help Ive learned to focus my magic light into a sort of shiny ray.  I can light a candle with it!

Weve settled into a strange routine, clearing the labyrinth chamber by chamber.  The ghouls flit around and try to intimidate us.  When we return to old battle scenes, the bodies wed laid low are all gone.

The ghoul priests make strange statements, as if we are the aggressors and they the protectors of the flame!  When I ask Amir about this he tells me to stay strong against the raving of the mad, that they seek to undermine our confidence.

I wonder where Number One has gone.

I saw something strange the other night.  I was sleeping poorly with ghoul ramblings rolling in my thoughts and went to Amir for encouragement. His chamber door was askew and I saw him standing in a ritual circle, his scepter held high above his head, and it seemed like a blood red energy was flowing from the scepters jewel, into his mouth! I snuck away.


I told Oberon what Id seen.  He thinks we need to find out what Amir is up to.

### Dear Diary,

Were close to the warded Inner Sanctum of the Sacred Flame.  Amir has sent instructions to the Fireside Tribes to open their receiving portals wide and reverse polarity to pour in extra energy for the Stoking.  This has to happen when we enter on the night of the first moon.

Another wizard has arrived, Alatar [@wizard2071], the Grandmaster of the Rod and Rabbit adventuring crew.  He has another white rabbit with him that looks just like Number One, but he wont talk to me?  Alatar is going to help with the stoking ritual and final cleansing of the temple.

During one of our skirmishes Oberons lightning blasted the face off a Golem.  Amir was mad, but Oberon promised he could repair the construct.

Later that evening he told me the plan.  He told me to use an illusion to look like a Golem!  He knows my disguise spell is slightly out of my control, but he says it doesnt matter, he can just say hed done a bad job repairing the golem and it looks funny now!  Clever guy!

I disguised myself as an automaton, my skin turning gray like a shady Koop, and my face contouring into a statue with crossed, googly eyes!

What is this mockery? Amir asked Oberon.

The googly eye enhancement will confuse the ghouls!

Amir ordered me to bring him his dinner.  I stood behind him as he ate and wrote furiously, obsessively checking that his scepter was by his side.  Alatars silent white rabbit lay in the corner of Amirs room on a  bed of hay, watching me.  At one point I think it may have winked.


Achh! All wrong!  Amir crumpled the letter he was writing.  Toss this in the fire you defective machine!

Moving robotically I took the crumpled letter to the fireplace, quietly unfolding it.  I scanned it quickly using the speed reading techniques Id learned when studying scripts.

By my calculations the harvesting is complete, the rod is brimming with souls.  On the first night of the 70th moon, the Fireside Tribes have been commanded to open their portals and add mana to the stoking ritual.  Per the rabbits suggestion, Ive hired the brute Alatar to defend the ritual chamber with my foolish lackies as I trigger the final cascade.

Master, the time is nigh!  Our paths will be joined in the harmony of silence, to drown out all the noise of this irrelevant world! All of the ignorant souls of my weak brothers and the spoiled tribes will hear the truth of eternal silence!

I threw the letter in the fire and returned to my station. The rabbit stared at me all night as Amir wrote feverishly then slept in his chair, cradling the scepter.

When Amir ordered me to bring him breakfast I swapped with another Golem and told Oberon everything.  We had a pow-wow and made a tricky plan.

Wish me luck Diary.

### Dear Diary,

Im still alive, I think.  I guess Im not sure, I feel different after what Ive seen.

The fancy wizard Alatar led the golems before us through the winding Labyrinth.  He whistled a cheerful tune and the ghouls exploded in clouds of gore when he looked at them.  It was truly frightening.


We guarded Amir as he dispelled the wards in the Inner Sanctum.  He holstered the scepter while unlocking the door.  I saw my opening,  Oberon released a little thunder from his bum in a boom fart to distract as I made the swap.

The vault opened and I saw it in person for the first time!  The light and heat of the Sacred Flame, even slightly diminished, was intense. The chamber was ornately scrawled with the records of the flame, the names of all the sorcerers and tribespeople that had stoked it for centuries.  In a ring around the room stood the Fireside Portals that transmitted the flames energy to the far flung nations that pay tithe to the Sacred mMunt.

I started sweating like I was in an audition.  I saw Oberon palming the scepter behind his back.  A screech went out and a horde appeared at the chamber door, the golems braced in a phalanx barely containing the seething mass as Alatar deftly sliced the madmen with lasers.

Guard me as I prepare! Amir ordered.

You are false, betrayer!  A large ghoul hissed. Betrayer! A chorus of growls reverberated in the vaulted room.

This was the moment I had been waiting for.  I remembered my training, my time in Shadytown, my journey with Number One through the crystal conduit, all the auditions Id failed.  This was for my cousins and all the tribes!

Look, Amir, the moon is risen! I pointed up to the aperture in the apex of the vaulted ceiling. An image of the moon was perfectly framed.

What? It cant be time already!

And the tribes are widening the portals!

I must hurry!


And the tribes are widening the portals!

I must hurry!

Oberon blasted a shock of lightning at the ghouls.  We cant keep them back much longer, Amir, get a move on sir!

Dont be silly young wiz Alatar began.

Tribes, lend me your strength!

Wisps of energy flowed from the portals around the room.  Amir was too focused on his incantation to notice how tightly Id clenched my buttocks, or that all the tribespeople in the portals had googly eyes.

Something seems off, Amir. Alatar offered.

Silence!  The summoning is nearly complete.  Quelqueth dominarus Shibboleth omni illuminatus Gorgoth!  Take these souls, eat this flame, and bring the silence to our speck of dust!

Amir raised the scepter above his head, the power from the portals all coalescing around him.  He pointed the scepter towards the Sacred Flame.  Great black heart, devour these fools!

The scepter cracked, but nothing happened.  My cheeks unclenched and the moon disappeared, the portals shrank to a neutral size.

That was a curious incantation, Amir. Alatar quipped.

This isnt my scepter, this is a spoon! What trickery is this?!

Looking for this? Oberon whipped the scepter from behind his back and smacked Amir across the face.

Let us have him!  Let us restore the flame. the bloody sorcerer corpses said in unison.  Oberon pointed the scepter at the golems and they broke ranks to let the ghouls pass.

A large undead priest with a charred skull and regal composure held out his hand and the scepter flew into it.  The priests stood around the flame and began chanting.


You betrayed the brotherhood.  You sullied the flame with dark desire. May the flame burn away your doubt before we meet again at the last bonfire. The undead priest picked Amir up by the neck and held the scepter high.  Screaming souls streamed out from the rod and swirled around the chamber, tearing at Amir.

The moon was high and Fireside Tribes opened their portals in time to see Amir drained of all energy, his soul chased and grappled by the souls he had harvested.  They forced his mote of life into the flame.  The priest then kicked his emptied body into the inferno as the screeching reached crescendo.  All the undead sorcerers leapt up and followed Amir into the fire.  The Sacred Flame flared to white hot intensity.

My eyes would not shut.  Though I saw Amir's soul dragged to the center of the flame, some knot of him struggled and kicked. I swear I saw some strange puff of black smoke escape.  I saw a face in the smoke as it flew up through the ceiling. It was a hateful skull, chewing silently.

The chamber was still.  The flame burned without a care, sturdy, impassive to the trials of our hearts. I hugged Oberon.  He was shaking.

Pretty magical, eh lads? Alatar said. He picked the scepter up off the ground.  Guess Ill take this for safekeeping.  Lots of cleaning up to do, no time to waste!

### Dear Diary,

Some sorcerer priests have returned from abroad.  They all experienced something similar, waking up from a spell of confusion, unsure of why theyd been wandering so far from the Mount.


These priests are repairing the temple, with the assistance of Alatar and his a few of his Rod and Rabbit mercenaries.  Alatars warriors are a gruff crew.  He says hes sent squads to visit the Fireside Tribes and assess if any ambient corruption leaked through the portals.  He asked Oberon and I if we would like to join the Rod and Rabbit.  Me, a sellsword, in real life?! Seems ridiculous, but he was very impressed by my illusions.  I could tell Oberon was giddy at the offer, but he composed himself and spoke of duty to his tribe, and a longing for the ice (I think he misses his girlfriend, Pashmina).

Number One returned, or at least started talking to me again, Im not sure.  He doesnt remember anything after our journey in the tunnel.

Oh boy, am I tired. Cant wait to show Oberon the Bright Rock Caves and central Koopville.  He says Ive gotta see the snowglobe his hometown is in.  Sounds dope to be honest.  Cant wait to tell my cousins about all this.  I think I have enough material for a script now and just my luck, all the characters in it will have googly eyes!


# Blood Eater Revenant Amir of the Royal Wretch

## Paean to the Toothy Quiet

Everyone knows everything.

They never stop talking.

The stories never end.

They never let the question hang

They never let the silence linger

So here I am, withdrawn from time,

Gnashing my teeth,

Without flesh,

Not even a spark,

Now I know how everything came from nothing

And how it will return

First, a little vengeance

Then, we reign in silence


Mina of the Marsh

# Mina - The Whimsical Witch

_An introduction to a curious creature and the white rat Albus who accompanies her_

Being of the Dark Sisterhood, Mina had experimented with her fair share of the blacker magics.

But whatever she had done or seen in her past, Mina spoke nothing of it.  With her giant staff of healing, Mina brings relief to all who seek her aid - and some who don't.

When asked about her 'pet rat' Mina only laughs.

"They called you a pet, Albus!"  She would say to the white creature by her side - who looked...a little annoyed each time it was said.

Currently Mina travels the country side alone - appearing at the most auspicious moments.  It's said she always arrives at exactly the right place at the right time.

She seems to light up all the places she touches, yet some say behind her jovial laugh, the shadow of darkness remains...

What does it all mean?  What's her deal? Well seems only she and Albus knows for sure.  But perhaps, more will be revealed soon...

~~~~ TO be Continued ~~~

You are an excellent person who deserves love.  May the delight of creation shine in your life and appear in the most unexpected places.

Recommended reading for anyone <3

The Gene Key by Richard Rudd

Braiding SweetGrass


Alessar of Avalon

# Alessar of Avalon's Adventure

After the accident, Alessar of Avalon found himself affected by an abnormal affliction. Something in his thoughts and speech felt askew. Was it his articulation, or a change in accent? *Hmm appears acceptable as always* he muttered with a deep sigh of frustration.

Considering himself an adaptable and adroit wizard, this inability to analyze his malady was agitating to say the least. It felt as though some words simply could not come to mind, so close to manifesting but dissipating into a wholly different form.

Acutely aware that something was awry yet unable to address it, he was left with no choice but to journey in search of an answer. Across the ancient libraries of the Runiverse, Alessar encountered similar accounts of unintended curses from rituals and summonings by wizard scholars of yore. A Disease of Diction wrote one, while another noted a Pestilence of Phrasing. Upon discovering a third account of such symptoms, a so-called Obliteration of Oration, Alessars suffering became clear - *Absolutely absurd an Ailment of Alliteration!*


Evoker Cairon of the Road

It is late into the night, quiet and calm. Cairon sits in his chair ever diligent in monitoring his sector of the multi-metaverse. With a few incantations he begins scrolling through his sector, as if flipping through a page of a book. As he reaches metaverse-terra he stops and a smile comes to this face as this is the metaverse he hails from.

In the last 10 years, he has discovered/learned magic, met new friends, gone on many adventures, fought in the templar wars and received the Evoker Class Protector title for his sector. While he is very proud of the path he has forged, his 'ordinary' life in metaverse-terra brings back many fond memories.

As Cairon reminisces of a simpler time, Hobbes (his very lucky black cat originally from metaverse-vee) lets out a loud *hiss* with hair standing on edge.

He looks around expecting to find mice or insects, the usual suspects of Hobbes' wraith, but none are noted. Cairon then gets an uneasy feeling in his gut as Hobbes has heightened senses to unnatural disturbances.

Cairon closes his eyes and begins chanting. Instead of words, runes emanate from his mouth and circle around him creating an electric tornado of magic. In this meditative state he begins searching his sector of anything unusual.

"There" he exclaims, and locks into metaverse-new tokyo. He checks the wards placed around New Tokyo and finds a number of cracks and is puzzled by what could have caused it. He then notes his old friend Wagmi-San has created his own portal. Although Wagmi-San is not a wizard, he is a technomancer of the highest order and knows his calculations would have considered the wards and does not believe it to be the source.


Unbeknownst to Cairon and Wagmi-San, distant metaverse-wow had a temporal disturbance which in combination with Wagmi's portal use caused the fracture leaving New Tokyo unprotected.

Cairon quickly grabs his broom and conjures up a portal to New Tokyo to investigate further. Little does he know of the danger that awaits him on the other side...


Nervilla Dismantler of the Lost City

Nervilla is swashbuckling viking of the Lost City. She drinks copious amounts of caffeinated drinks ranging from boiling mugs of coffee to victory shots of coffee infused vodka. Her skill and strength is only matched by her impossibly huge appetite for caffeine. Because of this, her legend has grown. No monster within the realms of the Lost City stands a chance, assuming she's had her adrenaline-inducing fill of caffeine.

When she is not on the battlefield and drunk on coffee, Nervilla is very relaxed and introverted. She can sleep in for days at a time while never getting bored of her redundant domestic routines. But alas, all that changes when a drop of caffeine is consumed. :)


Xerxes Sorrow of Glory

# The Story Of Xerxes, Axe Of Glory

The big halls of the jungle city complex were almost empty. But we saw some of the natives, hiding, cowering. Their civilisation seemed to be only a husk of its former glory. Their elite caste still visibly distinct from the rest of the fold, but even they were looking at us fearfully, barely returning our gaze.

Granted, it was impressive they were able to build such a huge and bizarre metropolis in the middle of this hostile, poisonous jungle in the Land Of Unknown. Everything here was so different than what we knew from the Lands Of People, our home. Only the recent invention of steam powered submarines enabled bold explorers like me to pass through (or rather underneath) the Unforgiving Storm Wall and discover this bizarre world.

First we had to cut our way through the thick green nets of plants we never seen, meeting creatures we never could have imagined.

In few days and many perils, we reached the Metropolis and remained in awe. A big, weirdly unnatural crater formed the skeleton of the city. Oddly shaped structures formed the flesh, countless round tunnels were veins and big oval halls - organs. The complex itself resembled a giant ant colony more than a human city.

We were sure it wasnt build by ants, but our imagination was running wild because ants were everywhere - big, fat and violet. When disturbed they squirted a weird substance which exploded in an acidic cloud. It could hurt eyes, skin and flesh and even corrode steel armor. Coordinated attack of hundreds of these creatures could make the air in vicinity unbreathable, as some of my soldiers learned to their own peril.

It was no coincidence that natives - weirdly pale, skinny and tall humanoids with bald heads - were worshipping ants. Luckily ant worshippers didnt share aggressive nature of their little insect gods.


When we arrived and set up a camp near their city they didnt try to put up any resistance. They simply ran and hid in their ant labyrinth, which seemed too big for such a small number of people.

Shortly Alatar - our red wizard - was able to telepathically connect with one of their shaman priests. We telecommunicated following message to him:

*We are men from beyond the Storm Wall and Great Blue. We are lead by Xerxes the Axe Of Glory, General Of His Majestys 3rd army and Admiral of 3rd Royal Submarine fleet. We are here to conquer these lands and turn them into a prospering province of Lands Of People. We bring progress, truth and light. Submit to our rule and you will not be harmed.*

The priests answer was a most unusual one:

*We submit to you. We are peaceful CREATURES. Our QUEEN will meet your QUEEN outside of MAHTZECHEEZMARRAN*

Of course we knew this could be a trap, but meeting outside of their weirdly named city posed a little risk to us. We had six thousand well armed elite troops and good strategic position outside the city. We overlooked the odd mention of Queen. Maybe they live in a matriarchal society and expect us to be the same.

We didnt have to wait for long. The delegation of ant worshippers appeared, meekly walking towards us, faces down, necks bent in a permanent bow. Like servants. Only richly decorated robes and violet face paint hinted towards them being of higher caste.


Their leader was a tall, elderly man with violet decorations and diadem with weird antlers. He was also the only one carrying an item - a translucent capsule full of violet glow. Perhaps another symbol of his status? He approached me and lied down in front of my feet, lifting the capsule up in the air, from up close I noticed it contains few of the ants. It was hard to see this gesture as anything but a signal of submission.

Alatar translated to us his telecommunication:

*We are peaceful. I am the QUEEN. I submit. We will bring gifts and treasures, the best of our land to you. Lets enter MAHTZECHEEZMARRAN together. I remain as your hostage, so you feel safe. If you feel unsafe, you can kill me. I tell the truth."*

With this reassurance I dispatched with Alatar and half of my force into the city, of course with utmost caution. Last thing I wanted was to lead my men into a trap. But my goal here is to explore, to conquer and to extend his Majestys will. If these people are really submitting willingly, I cant refuse. The best battle is the one which is avoided.

And thus, leading my comrades, donned in full plate armor, holding up my Axe and Holy Shield, I am walking through tunnels and halls of this alien" civilization.

More of the ant worshippers welcomed us inside the big and well lit oval hall. They laid countless gifts in front of our feet. Cages with exotic animals, glowing gemstones and even weird organic flasks of liquid Alatar said emanate some form of healing magic. We feasted on the food they brought us, delicious spices made the weird soft meat of jungle creatures edible and fruit nectars were otherworldly.


Never once did we feel threatened. Their meek faces, respectful bows and calm and subservient demeanor put us at ease.  After few days we started to gain basic understanding of their language and religion. Their culture was indeed centred around these violet ants, every item they produced had some resemblance of an ant or ant egg.

The ants themselves were everywhere in the city, and ant worshippers avoided them with care. In fact the only sort of discomfort these people shown was when one of my men crushed a violet ant under his boot. They did not do anything, but they were visibly disturbed and sad.

From that point we refrained from hurting the ants deliberately, but sometimes their bite could be quite painful and their acid explosions dangerous. So I ordered Alatar to clear out all the ant nests around our camp with magical fire. Of course we made sure there were no ant worshippers around to see it and mourn.

After a month of getting familiar with our new subjects and their city I decided to leave. Alatar with half of my men stayed behind to build a permanent fortress on a small hill near MAHTZECHEEZMARRAN. Me and the rest returned to our submarines and traveled back, under the Big Blue and Storm Wall to bring our treasure and news of our spoils back home.

The Leader of Ant Worshippers insisted we bring back the violet capsule with ants as a gift of utmost respect and importance. I felt the gravity of this gesture. The capsule was probably a symbol of their ruler. It also contained living ants and ant worshippers wouldnt just give them away as toys.

I also insisted to bring home few of the ant worshippers to take care of the ants (and of course to show off these strange people at home). They reluctantly agreed to send two young females but assured us that ants in the capsule do not need any care and should not be disturbed.


The journey back home was quiet and I spend most of the time going over Alatars notes, checking the items we are bringing. One thing that kept captivating my attention was the ant capsule. It seemed like the ants appeared and disappeared from it at will, sometimes there were no more than dozen inside, sometimes there were hundreds of them. The view through the translucent organic membrane was kind of distorted but it seemed they were building some pulsating violet blob inside. Alatar assured me earlier that the blob doesnt posses any magical properties, but I was curious if there are forms of otherworldy magic he is not familiar with.

His Majesty greeted me lavishly. All of his courtiers gathered to marvel at the treasure we brought and stories we told. He even took one of the Ant Worshipper girls to his private rooms. I myself didnt feel particularly attracted to their bald heads, pale and skinny bodies but his Majesty is a man of his own renown.

That night changed everything. I was about to return to Navy Barracks to debrief the rest of my men and reward them for their contribution. When the overwhelming bright light filled everything around me and soon after the roaring sound, from the Royal Palace. I looked back, half blind and I saw a huge violet mushroom cloud towering over the city. Royal Palace was already covered by thick acidic smoke. I immediately recognized the violet ant explosion, just millions of times bigger than what we saw in the jungles of Land Of Unknown.

At the same time sharp and painful thought pierced my mind.

*TRAP! ANTS - REAL MASTERS! DESTROY CAPSULE!.*


*TRAP! ANTS - REAL MASTERS! DESTROY CAPSULE!.*

These were not my thoughts, but Alatar's. I can only imagine how much energy he had to expend to telecommunicate with me over such distance and through Storm Wall. He probably put himself in serious health risk doing this. But it was too late. Capsule already done its job and the acidic cloud was consuming the city. I ran as fast as I could straight to submarine docks. I was able to catch almost full submarine crew inside the first submarine, still unloading some cargo from the journey and cleaning the interior.

*Code red, we are submerging immediately, all hands on board!"*

I couldnt even hear my own voice, thats how in shock I was, but the crew heardand saw the apocalypse happening in the city. We submerged and remained under water swimming north against the wind, hoping the acidic cloud will not spread this way. After three days we were forced to go to the surface to replenish air. When I looked at the shore through periscope the sky was faint violet and sun was nowhere to be seen despite the fact it was noon. Air was breathable but had a faint nauseating stench. We decided to turn back to the City.

Almost everyone was dead, houses burned. Few people that survived seemed to be mindlessly wandering the streets, looking high on something. They were all pointing in one direction - Royal Palace and didnt answer our questions. We made our way towards it until we saw the Palace is no more. In its stead a giant crater was gaping at us. Violet light was stronger here and the nauseating scent was more palpable.

Then we saw them - few small hills in the crater, bustling with millions of little fat violet insect bodies. A sharp thought pierced my mind again. Altough these were not Alatar's thoughts. They were not human at all.


*We are ANT PEOPLE from beyond the Storm Wall and Great Blue. We are lead by QUEEN. We are here to conquer these lands and turn them into a prospering province of ANT REALM. We bring BALANCE. Submit to our rule and you will not be harmed.*

The scent in the air started to turn heavier. Few of my men got a blank stare in their eyes and dropped their weapons, pointing towards their crater. I ordered everyone to cover their mouths and noses with a piece of cloth and run back to our submarine. Few more didnt make it, couldnt resist the calling of the Violet Terror.

Now, as I am writing these words, I am certain our mighty Land Of People is doomed. I know not what will become of me. I let the sea currents take my submarine whenever they wish, as we do not have enough fuel for engines anymore. I used to conquer, now I submit. I am no longer Xerxes Axe of Glory.

I am Xerxes Sorrow of Glory.


Glorf Trimmer of the Arena

Clear the Valley
The Adventures of Gruzzon and Glorf - Pt 1

Gruzzon slammed his (nearly) empty bottle of Sake down on the long wooden table. "Today, my friend, we will drive this devilish band of Goblins back to their wasteland of a town once and for all. Let the streets run red with their blood, and the sky be full of their cries, and by tomorrow morn, our valley will be at peace once again. His sun-soaked, noble face radiated an unflappable determination as he spoke. His earthen brown eyes were flanked by the bright gold of his helm, as vibrant purple horns branched out boldly on both sides. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked down the table at his compatriot Glorf. Ever the quieter of the pair, he sat motionless. His brilliant blue and yellow armor only partly covered his body, which boasted a dark, muscular frame. How many foes had perished by the edge of his gleaming Blue Longsword?  He instilled both apprehension and admiration through the gleam of his red, sunken eyes.


Gruzzon and Glorf walked out of the small tavern into the golden glow of a summer evening. The pair strode down the street in what felt like slow motion. A crooked pinwheel spun lazily in front of a repair shop. A trio of buzzing flies showed great interest in the contents of a farmers cart. The two mighty Warriors travelled southward. The valley they approached had once been a quaint, undisturbed place, but bands of Goblins had been camping farther and farther out from their town. For the past two months, perhaps longer, they had infested this valley with their foulness. A cold stream that had been a sanctuary for fishermen from several nearby villages was defiled. The rabbits and deer that roamed that place had either fled, or were hunted for sport. The once crisp air now sat heavy with an unsavory stench. This odor gave fair warning to Gruzzon and Glorf, who stopped on the side of the path to make final preparations for the raid. The last rays of sun were fleeting as the pair sharpened their swords and tightened their armor.


The soothing shades of evening melted into the black monolith of night. A solemn birdsong echoed through the forest and faded away. A soft rain began to fall, creating a din of a million droplets crash landing on shadowy leaves and branches. This place felt hollowed out, as if any speck of life who lingered in the valley had been swallowed whole by the damp ground. This might have been believable, and the world itself may have given up hope, if it werent for two silent shapes moving through the night. Two resolute Warriors, with drawn swords and steeled eyes, were striding, gliding, down the hill.
Gruzzon and Glorf had already made up their mind that this raid was the right thing to do, and both had accepted death as a natural consequence of battle long ago. There was nothing to generate second thoughts; indeed thoughts of any type seemed inconsequential at this moment and gave way to a Zen-like state of present moment alertness.
Up ahead, at the bottom of the valley, coals from a campfire recently gone out were emitting a faint glow, enough to outline the shapes of several tents. The pair of warriors, who had been moving side by side, diverged and crept towards opposite sides of the Goblin Camp. With stealth and near silence they entered the camp, approached two of the ragged, stinking tents, each grabbed one of the loose hanging flaps, and in unison, pulled them open. Wooosh! Empty. The warriors looked up at each other with apprehension. Just then there was a furious clamor coming from the shadows and the pair spun around.


AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaayyyYYYYYYyyyyeeeEEEEEE!!!!!!!! A blood curdling scream rang out across the valley as a Goblin flew threw the air with a spear pointed at Glorfs chest. He shifted as quickly as he could, as the tip of the spear streaked across his breastplate and the airborne Goblin crashed into him, both hitting the ground with a powerful thud. On the other end of camp, Gruzzon was being encircled by two snarling Goblins, one wielding a curved dagger, the other with a double-bit axe. Glorf rolled across the ground and got to his feet, as his attacker did the same. This time Glorf took the offensive, charging and swinging his sword down at the Goblin. The Goblin raised his spear horizontally to block the blow, but its wooden shaft was no match for the Longsword. The spear fractured it two, spraying splinters in all directions, and the Longsword followed through and struck the Goblins shoulder.


followed through and struck the Goblins shoulder. yyyYYAAAAAAAAAA!!! The Goblin cried out in anguish, which quickly turned to anger, and just as Glorf had managed to pull his sword free, the Goblin leapt at him in a rage. The two again crashed to the ground, this time intertwined, with the Goblin on top. The foul creature grabbed the bit of exposed wrist just below Glorfs sword-hand, dug his sharpened fingernails into flesh, while driving the sword-hand into the ground. Glorf used his free left hand, balled into a dense fist, to strike the Goblins face. Dark blood welled up from the Goblins cheek, but the eyes showed maddened resolve. Glorf brought his left arm back and delivered a forearm strike to the Goblins considerably smaller arms. They buckled but maintained their grip, nails digging into Glorfs wrist, drawing blood and immobilizing his sword-hand. Again Glorf brought his left arm back and struck the


brought his left arm back and struck the Goblins grip with all his might. This time he was able to free his other hand for a brief moment - long enough to re-grip his sword, turn it on the Goblin, and drive it completely through its chest. Time stopped as the battling foes locked eyes. The Goblin looked down at his pierced chest, and looked back at Glorf with the horror of void on its face. It tried to muster one final attack, moving its hands to Glorfs throat, but all its strength was quickly fleeting. Glorf knocked the Goblin back with his left arm while pulling his sword out of its chest. A strong flow of blood erupted and the Goblin landed on its back. Glorf rose to his feet. His wrist was leaking blood but he had the strength to fight. He gripped his longsword with both hands, strode to the Goblin, and raised the cold steel high above his head. The Goblin was not dead,


high above his head. The Goblin was not dead, but was dying, and couldnt do much to move let alone muster a defense. With one swift, circular stroke, Glorfs blue longsword glided through the Goblins neck and severed the head from its body. The Goblin head rolled once to the right and settled still against the dark ground.


Glorf looked down at his slain foe, and then looked to his own wrist to inspect the injury. Just then, he was startled by the yell of his fellow Warrior on the other end of camp. Up to this point, Gruzzon had been using his superior weapon to hold the pair of Goblin attackers off. Broad circles with his Master Claymore were merely prolonging the fight, but he could not take the offensive against one Goblin, as it would leave him open to attack from the other. The Goblin pair eventually decided to attack in tandem, from opposite sides. Gruzzon met the charge of the Goblin wielding the 2-bit axe and brought the mighty Claymore down, chopping off both the Goblins hands. The Goblin shrieked as his handless arms flailed and spouted blood, like a pair of unmanned garden hoses in a chaotic dance. Gruzzon started to turn on the second Goblin just as he felt the dagger enter his back. He


as he felt the dagger enter his back. He called out in pain and swung the Claymore around on his attacker, who ducked and scurried back. Gruzzon kept the Claymore pointed at the frenzied Goblin with his right hand, while bringing his left hand around the small of his back. He gripped and pulled out the curved dagger with a grunt of anguish and resolve. He sheathed the dagger in his belt, and firmly gripped the Claymore with both hands. One of the remaining Goblins had lost his weapon, while the other had lost his hands. They sensed that their window had closed, and began maniacally fleeing into the night. Gruzzon ran after the vile creature that had stabbed him in the back, while Glorf, having irreversibly dispatched his own attacker, pursued the handless fiend. The muscular warriors had no trouble catching up to the Goblins, and almost in unison, like the final note of a violent symphony, struck the


the final note of a violent symphony, struck the Goblins down. The pair made their way back to the dark camp. Glorf used his sword to slice two strips of cloth from a tent flap. The shorter he tied around his still bleeding wrist, and the longer he firmly wrapped around Gruzzons torso. They had been wounded, but not fatally. The warriors sat on the dark ground, catching their breath, calming their minds. Were there more Goblins lurking in the shadows? Perhaps. Would more come up from Goblin Town? It was only a matter of time. By mornings light, they would gather the bodies and what remained of the camp, and burn it in a raging bonfire. But for the moment, they sat, and did nothing.


Arthur Danger of the Mountain

# Arthur Danger, of the Mountain

"Aye-ya, ope! Scuse me, I'mma jus skuhweeeze past yas an grab da brewskis, oh fer cryin' out loud!"

Mr. Danger was born in the mountain, but most of his life has been spent in the mid-west plains near the Kobold Crossroads. There, Arthur would hang with his pals in the milk guild. Arthur had developed a thick accent, always adding 's' sounds even when not appropriate.

Pasties with melk is his favorite meal, followed by a brewski (or a pop if he's being responsible on guard duty).

You betcha he is excellent at cornhole - undefeated in his local pub tourney.

"I could drawls ya bolth if I was good at art but I gots to take my hotdish to the Danger potluck tonight. It's clear across the plains to the mountains so you betcha'll take a while, dontcha know!"


Thaumaturge Bathsheba of Dreams

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Bathsheba of Dreams

"A rat?" they used to snicker as Bathsheba would walk past with her trusty familiar.  They stopped laughing after she got her stellar staff and was able to wield the power of a thousand suns.  Turns out a rat is a very handy companion for disposing of what's left of her enemies' remains.


Beckett Killer of Goblins

Beckett comes from a long line of Falconers. His Harpy Eagle is a family heirloom that was summoned from a cast of their famous guardian protector.


Druid Enigma of the Valley

Enigma awoke with a start, convulsing and sweating profusely. She had just had the most intense, terrifying dream.

An intense feeling of loneliness and dread set over her as she realized she was not at home, but in the bowels of the cave system that she had gotten lost in over 2 weeks ago!

Had she been out that entire time? The dream was vividly intense, though the longer she was up, the more the visions faded from her mind.

Visions of being kidnapped, turned into a kobold (a green one with ears? could you believe that. We ALL know kobolds are yellow and have horns), and worse, watching her poor beloved slime, Fred, get tortured and eaten alive by the same kobold that kidnapped her!

As the last bit of terror and imagery fled from her mind, Enigma seemed to regain fully control of her faculties, and stood from the spot wher she had previously collapsed over two weeks ago.

Although Engima had fabulous night vision thanks to her swamp witch genetics, it was still sufferingly dark, and could barely see more than a few inches in front of her face.

After standing and collecting her belongings, Enigma pulls The Caduceus off of her back, and holds it high, mumbling a small, homebrewed incantation.

In mere seconds, the staff lit the cave with a gentle blue light. What she saw before her was an endless cavern that stretched far past the range of her glow. Ancient ruins of a vast city spread around her, giving no hint which might be the direction out.

"Fred, I think-" Enigma stopped mid-sentence realizing Fred was not in his customary spot in her hip pouch.


This is where the panic really started to set in. Fred was her slime familiar, one she created, and one she bonded very heavily with. Fred was her best friend, and there really was no way around it.

"Ok Enigma, take a deep breath. He can't have gone that far." She said, pushing her green curls out of her face, rummaging through her hip pouch for who knows what.

Moments later, an excited gasp slips out of Enigma and she holds a bit of dried meat out in an extended hand.  (One thing Fred loved more than Enigma was jerky. Engima didn't even eat meat, but would lovingly prepare this yummy little snacks for her friend.)

Fred was a quantum slime, and could travel time and space. It would only take a moment for Fred to appear when it was snack time, but he wasn't answering the call.

A storm of anxiety started to rage within the swamp witch, as she began desperately calling out for her familiar.

Hours would pass as she wandered from ruined building to ruined building, carefully looking for her slimy little companion. Eventually, she would stumble on him, injured in the open.

The moment she set eyes upon the slime, she moved with a speed usually reserved for legendary creatures. As she fell onto the ground next to Fred, her caduceus began acting on it's own.

It hovered in the air for moments before lighting up an intense blue, as Enigma scooped the battered slime up off the cave floor. Soon, Enigma and Fred would be bathed in the magical glow of the caduceus, which had the power to heal any injury (as long as the injured target was still alive).

It took what felt like an eternity for our Enigma, but in reality it was only moments before Fred's 'eyes' opened and began to regain consciousness.


The healing light had restored the faithful slime's lifeforce, and immediately began hopping up and down all over Enigma, clearly excited to see Enigma.

"Ugh Fred!!" Engima exclaimed between sobs, as she scooped him up into her arms and began crying uncontrollably into the slime.

After the two had a moment to reunite, Fred took off down into the dark cave, beckoning Enigma to follow.

"Did you find a way out you clever little blob??" Enigma asked herself, chasing after Fred.

***(Will these two find their way out of the cavern? What are all these ruins?? Did they finally stumble on the lost city of Atlantis? Stay tuned and find out!!)***


Charmer Jadis of the Moors

Wizard lore - The Lore of Charmer Jadis of the Moors

With only a touch, I have the power ~
Zim zaba rim bim, To wither a flower ~
I find delight in the gruesome and grim.

I can be huge; Fill the whole house
I can be teeny, small as a mouse ~
Black sorcery is my dish of tea
It comes easy to me.

I can be beautiful, lovely and fair ~
Silvery voice, long red hair ~
La la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la, la la la la la la la ~
But it's only skin deep
For Zim zaberim ZIM
I'm an ugly old creep!

I can do all these things and judiciously more, 'Cause I'm the jackbooted, jittering, jinxed, jaded Jadis of the Moors!


Medium Samuel of the Platonic Shadow

# Medium Samuel of the Platonic Shadow


When Medium Samuel first died it came as a complete shock to him. One minute he was happily going about his business, the next he had been crushed to death by an impossible metal object traveling so fast he didnt even have time to scream.

The main source of shock was that immediately after the moment of his death he found himself to be, alive and unharmed, a few seconds earlier in the timeline. As he stopped to process what had just happened he narrowly avoided the object that continued on its previous path and disappeared out of sight behind him.

He very carefully headed to the nearest drinking establishment to celebrate his good fortune, but after pushing his way to the front of the line to order his first mug of mead he noticed something strange over by the window. A golden ghost hovered a few centimetres off the floor, careful not to come into contact with any solid surface. It was semi-transparent so you could still see what was happening behind it and although roughly humanoid in appearance it looked extremely old. The creatures mouth didnt move at all but he knew what it was saying as the words just appeared in his head.

The golden ghost asked if he wanted to be special. It explained that he wanted Samuel to make some small changes in the physical world that he wasnt able to do and in return he offered a life of wealth and excitement. The requested changes were so small and inconsequential that Samuel didnt understand what their impact could possibly be. Just little things like changing a 0 to a 1 in a ledger or introducing two people who worked in the same building to each other. He decided it was probably not wise to ask for the reasons behind the requests, just in case a being powerful enough to manipulate time wasnt keen on questions and I cant say I disagree with his risk averse approach.


As he goes about his assigned tasks Samuel can see glimpses, for a few brief minutes, of the other world where he died. It has long diverged from his world in many different ways but sometimes he feels guilty about those people who have only died in his new timeline so he acts as a medium to deliver messages between the worlds, easing the pain of loved ones.


So far he tells me the golden ghosts have not voiced their opinions on this activity so we can only assume they approve. Indeed I hope they continue to allow it so I can try and give some comfort to my family in the timeline where apparently I met an untimely end while fighting over a drink that was spilt as someone pushed past me.


Druid Soran of the Sacred Pillars

# Druid Soran of the Sacred Pillars
_

Soran was but an infant when he was stolen...

Carried by creatures to whom are beholden

As loyal to the sea as they are to the land

Ready to tear apart the tiny wizard man

Eager to defend their home against

Devils and demons, it's our last chance

_

### Not much is known about this defender of the wild... yet


Chevy Stormer of the Ring

The Ring is an underground network of mercenary spies. For small jobs, they have incredibly high integrity, but for the larger ones, their own beliefs often present a conflict.

Chevy, unlike the rest, never feels too conflicted about having zero allegiance to anyone.


Jadis of the Heath

Dear Diary, today I found this sick staff inside a creepy hidden caaaave and this wack bat followed me out.  Im thinking of calling him Bernie  but my mom says I cant have a pet.  Bernie can live under my bed.  Ugh, Im so tired of living with my parents.  I cant wait until Im older and can teleport OUT OF HERE!


Shaded Spectre Sabina of the Ectoplasmic Horizon

# New Lore Entry

My cat will follow me in this adventure

Let's see how it goes


Nil Debilitator of the Mountain

gas is cheap, will edit later


Serendipity the Moderate

Serendipity is known for having an incredibly regal gait.


Marci Destroyer of the Elysian Fields

# She who was once said to be the strongest

### There was the strongest warrior. Her name was Marci.
### Marci was so strong that she destroyed anyone she considered an enemy without mercy.
### She was so strong that those who saw her fight called her the Destroyer.

### Her power was so mighty that the world feared her.
### And the world tried to eliminate her.

### She spent the rest of her life in endless battles.
### She was always alone. But that was normal for her. The world was her enemy.
### She didn't even have time to feel lonely, because fighting was the proof of life.

### Then one day, a pack of large Northern Lynx attacked one small Northern Lynx.
### The Northern Lynx that was being attacked had the same eye color as her own.
### She saw herself now in such a Northern Lynx.
### A large claw attacked the small Northern Lynx.

### Her heart echoes.
### At that moment, her moonshield caught the big claw.
### But the claws were so big that they hurt her eyes.
### Marci took a stand and protected Northern Lynx.

### Then, without fear, she swung the sword in her right hand and finished off the big Northern Lynxes.

### The little Northern Lynx that Marci protected gently licked Marci's wounds.
### For the first time, Marci felt warmth.
### She gently hugged the child.

### There was a mighty warrior feared by the world.
### But she did not have a sword.
### Instead, he had a large bone and a small Northern Lynx with her.
### In the fields of Elysium, she and the Northern Lynx lived in peace.


Sky Master Crowley of the Sacred Pillars

# An Offering...

Crowley jumped when the sun cat appeared in the window. She flicked her tail and purred, but all that he saw was the dead crow in her jaw.

It actually worked.

He cleared a space on the altar cloth and placed the dead bird between the two candles. He rolled up his sleeves. Did he dare to seek forbidden knowledge? To touch death?

The crows black beak hung open. Mocking him.

The sun cat gave her tail a suspicious wag.

Well, here it goes.

He grasped the black bird by its feathered neck and twisted hard until the head came off in his hands. The blood coating his fingers was still warm. The sun cat nuzzled against his leg and purred.

He assembled the head on the altar plate, marked it with the rune of Cinnabar, and shook the gnomes tooth over the offering three times. He fell into a pensive silence.

A breeze pushed through the windows and extinguished the burning candles in a curl of smoke. Darkness fell over the room, and the sun cat reared and hissed.

He stared at the crows head gleaming in the moonlight, now ten times its former size. Sacred Pillars, he said, what have I done?

He trembled as he picked up the head and placed it over his own. The secrets of the Runiverse shone to him through new eyes.


Witch Enigma of Tartarus

An excerpt from the Chronicles of Tartarus, Epoch 7.3

...the witch never assimilated to her job description, and it was hard to understand why.. Finally, the Tartarus' Head Runemaster himself uncovered Enigma's problem - she was corrupted by the rune of UP ONLY..  Imagine, a daughter of THE Scorch of Tartarus, being born under a good sign...  The shame, the disgust, the comtempt.. Scorch always wanted "Daddys Little Girl" to follow in his destructive, chaotic footsteps.. Enigma always seemed to want to rise above that stuff.  She just wasn't cut out for evil.

It won't go on the official court record of course, but some Lords present recall seeing steam droplet tears rise from Scorch's head when he banished Enigma from Tartarus.

Leaving the Gates of Tartarus behind her, Enigma donned the one thing her mother left her before she passed - a Celestial Sash.  Truly living up to her name, Witch Enigma smiled, finally free to be herself, and never looked back.