I must-a take dis gold to da King! He gon make me lord or something, says the stablemaster. He gathers all the gold and carries it back to the stables on Matildas back.

Fearing that a thief would find his fortune, the stablemaster hides the gold in Matildas stall and heads to the castle.

Left alone with the gold, Matilda takes it to town and buys the most valuable trinkets she can find: a pompous foulard with golden needlework, protective sunglasses, and an oak pipe that belonged to a renowned wizard. She then heads back home and waits for her master.

When the stablemaster returns, he is followed by two kingsmen. I told ye. I found da gold ovr them sun fields. Twas buried like seeds, and up in the trees like some fruit. Even down below the water, like seafood. The guards eye each other with a questioning look.

The stablemaster hands them the bag. Here, see? Gold so shiny it makes yer eyes close.

The guards peek inside the bag to find a bunch of worthless junk. A pipe, some glasses, and a napkin. Very funny, mister. Shall we take you to the king for wasting our time?

While the kingsmen head back to the castle, the stablemaster studies the bag worriedly. He then leaves it on the ground and heads back home to his wife, concerned for his own mind. I should spend more time with people than animals.

Matilda can finally enjoy her trinkets, thinking that no one will know their true value.


Necromancer Black Goat of the Event Horizon

The antagonist to the story of Hestia, he was once a student of the Halls of the Hallowed. Soon after he started studying there, he felt his interest being piqued by the darker elements of alchemy, the ones that were hidden away by the other scholars. There was a reason for that knowledge to be forbidden. Since the dawn of man, mankind has had the audacity to challenge the laws of nature, almost always resulting in arcane knowledge that would take away from the balance of life instead of searching for ways to better it. After his departure from the Halls of Hallowed, he started to amass wealth, knowledge and an army of undead behind his cause.

By the time he made himself known to the masses, he was transformed beyond recognition, no longer the frail student at the Halls trying to experiment but rather a formidable opponent of the forces of good. He now stands once more face to face against Hestia, the only one who recognised the person behind the Necromancer, behind his altered appearance and behind his new name as Black Goat of the Event Horizon. The things the Necromancer has gathered in his period of disappearance are the artifacts of legends and tales, and a closer look is needed to understand the amassed power of the Necromancer.


The first adventure he undertook to found ancient relics was to find an artifact of the fabled arcane user Merlin. Merlin is often seen as the founder of the Halls of the Hallowed, although no one has ever proven the mythical arcanist ever roamed the continent for real. But the Necromancer did. In ancient scrolls he found the location of Merlins crypt. He emerged from the crypt victorious and gained a new ally in his fight against the forces of light. At first, it would seem that Merlins Monkey was an ordinary animal but he has been reanimated by the Necromancer, and in his brain reside the memories of Merlins experiments and research, something the Necromancer uses frequently to further his understanding of the arcane arts. The monkey itself is also a quick and vicious foe in battle, fighting from the shoulder of his master or jumping from enemy to enemy and clawing away at their throats or eyes.

After this, he needed more power for himself. He started experimenting with magic that would alter himself in return for dark secrets. Once the Necromancer had a regular face, some would have even called him handsome in the day. Not anymore. Forbidden magic and dark arts come with a price, and one of the first ones the Necromancer had to pay was his face. Slowly but surely with each experiment and each grab for power his head became less and less human and shifted to something supernatural. Now, his face represents the dark and ancient demons he prays to and summons to gather their strength. With horns and a long face, the goat-like appearance has replaced his head fully. His red piercing eyes are alleged mirrors of hell, giving each unprotected person who looks into them the feeling they have stared into the abyss. These people will be haunted with visions and nightmares for the rest of their lives.


Even with the payoff of his face and his human-like traits, the Necromancer would argue that he gained more than he lost. Because he gave up his own head for the demonic variant he now possesses, he has gained the ability of breathing death all around him. The story goes that he tricked the demons from below in giving him the abilities of their hunter-gatherer on the mortal plane, the Grim Reaper. This creature is supposed to be the one that collects the souls of people who are destined to die and bring them to hell.

But now, this power is wielded by the Necromancer. He doesnt send their souls to hell however, instead opting to place them in purgatory, between the living and death, granting him life force from them to gain more powers for himself. Already a few powers under his belt, he felt like he still needed more. Each alchemist or mage in the world one day dreams of discovering a new fundamental understanding of the arcane arts, but few succeed. The Necromancer has done this shortly after leaving the Halls of the Hallowed destroyed. In his search for endless power, he had stumbled upon the grimoire of a dark wizard of centuries ago. In there, he found the beginnings of a spell, and over the course of three years, he has perfected it.

Now he wields the power of the Death spell. Where the Grim reapers breath is used in close contact with people, the Death spell can be used to kill several people at once even from a far distance. Alchemists and mages have found ways to conceal themselves or others from this spell, but these protections arent for anybody. Because of this, the Necromancer is able to take out opponents even before the conflict reaches a combat stage. Finally, he found himself powerful enough that he just needed one thing more, a rune.


The runes of the elements are one of the strangest elemental forces in the universe. Each of the four elements has a rune, a mystical key that can be unlocked by experienced alchemists and mages to add an extra layer to their powers. The Necromancer has opted to wield the power of the Rune of Water. This is another sign of his intelligence. More impulsive or aggressive enchanters opt for the Runes of earth or fire, both having more of a visual element to their danger. Instead the Rune of Water is calm and eternal. It turns earth into clay and mud, rendering it ineffective, it douses fire and destroys it and air cannot touch the water without becoming part of it. Because of this, by wielding the power of the Rune of water, the Necromancer has positioned himself in the most advantageous position against other wielders of Runes.


Walter Attacker of the Tundra

#  Tundra Terror

> ARGRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The pained screams of a Yeti echoed throughout The Tundra. The sickening cry was loud enough to break through even the strong winds of the unforgiving Tundra blizzard.

The terrifying beast stood at an impressive 5 meters tall, but was brought to its knees by an even more horrific monster - **Walter Attacker of the Tundra.**

His scimitar cleanly sliced through the Yetis spine with one clean swoop, slicing at just precision for the sole purpose of paralyzing it from the neck down. It had no clue how long Walter was following; in fact it hadnt even realized it was pounced on before the burning pain surged throughout it back. It had all happened in just a few seconds, but knew very well that this would be the end.

> So cold Im so cold. I need you. I need your warmth. I need your blood. I need your life

Walter said slowly, and calmly, as he began carving away the Yetis limbs. It continued yelling in agony, thats all it could do as the cold white snow below was tainted in crimson. At this point it would have preferred its life was ended before he butchered its body, but it knew that was never an option. Although the Yeti couldnt see Walter's face under his thick steel helmet, it could tell he was drunk with excitement over the joy of torturing.

After removing all of its limbs, Walter made one large incision throughout the Yetis torso. He climbed in as deep as he could and rubbed the Yetis blood deep into his skin and fur clothing. Thats right, Walters clothes are of course made of Yeti fur - but it's Yeti blood that it's naturally dyed in. How many lives had he taken for that pure white fur to become so saturated in that wretched shade


> Youve stopped yelling. Whats wrong? I know youre not dead, your heart is still beating see?

With that, Walter dug his hand deep into the Yetis chest cavity and ever so gently and brushed his palm just briefly across the surface of its heart.

By this point, the Yeti could hardly recognize what was happening. Its vision had already begun to fade, and the small and faint sensations it felt were a chaotic flurry of pain. Soon enough, even those feelings began to subside.

Finally, when the Yeti was no longer able to comprehend anything, or even recognize its own existence anymore, one final sound reverberated throughout the empty void

> Ah now youre cold too


Drulek Beheader of the Slime

# Drulek Beheader of the Slime

Drulek wandered the realm searching for a worthy foe. He found but one... @warrior12950

They traveled the lands together, picking up worthy allies in @warrior728 and @warrior727.

The companions accepted a quest from the **King** of Kings.

>Venture forth and vanquish the tyranny that lay in the depths of the demon lands.

The King said.

The four traveled to the gates of hell. They carried with them a magic artifact said to be crafted by @wizard0 themself. The party made up their minds, steeled their will, and invaded the abyss.

They fought for 4 fortnites, slaying all demons that impeded their quest. Until they finally reached **the** demon's layer.

***Drulek laid the trap while shrugging off hoards of demons from all sides. Once The Demon fell into their trap, Drulek struck the final blow across its neck. Beheading the scourge and restoring hope to the lands.***

***As The Demon fell the Rune of Brimstone was seared into Drulek's mind.***

When the party returned to the King's realm they were greeted with a fantastic celebration. The King rewarded the adventurers with a name.

From that day forth the party became known as...

>**Ruin Demon**


Battle Mage Borak of the Riviera

Borak grew up in the far south, where the sun don't shine. Having hardships that most find unfathomable, he became strong, ugly and invulnerable. There was so little good in his life that he found his farts as vacation. One might think that those farts are a form of relief, which they were, however they could kill gremlins in a 10 mile radius.

In his early teens he killed a mother dinosaur in Riviera. He decapitated the head and started drinking her leftover milk. This became his obsession. The next 28 years he took every drip of milk from any living creature that recently gave birth. So many babies were malnourished because of him, but he didn't give a flying pig.

The obsession finally ended while he was eating out with some friends. His friends were the baby corpses that died from malnutrition. They were talking about what fashion was poppin' today and he realized that jean shorts were really cool.

Nowadays Borak stays home and designs jean shorts for anyone who thinks of both fashion and comfort.


Druid Crowley of the Marsh

#  Prologue
Born somewhere around the Great Tower that housed the last Druid Order of the southern hemisphere, the wind flailed west across the forgotten ruins, once the site of a great city, before the Hundred Year war. Along it blew past the gnarled branches deep into the bog, around a clay hut, and beat at the back of a bearded figure standing by a small fire.

Blasts flailed about Crowleys worn coveralls, whipped his beard, then fed the fire at his feet. He wished he had gathered more wood before last night, or that it hadnt rained so much. Conjuring fire came effortlessly to him but sustaining it without fuel would be an inefficient use of his Magic. Using his Magic these days didnt please him anyway; he had parted from the order centuries ago and had no intentions of going back.

An exceptionally strong gust caught the brim of his red pointy hat, knocking it off his head and flinging it to the damp ground. In a matter of seconds the hat quickly rose in an upward motion before being snatched in mid air. As if summoned from the hats opening a small bulbous shape fell to the ground below. The wizard no longer remembered when Chlorbi and he first crossed paths  time had a way of losing meaning after a while - but he was sure grateful to have him around.

_Thank you old friend._ Crowley said, smiling at Chlorbi.

Chorbi blinked, letting out a friendly chirp.

Feeling a little foolish he placed the hat back; it was the only article that remained from a life he now chose to forget. Now and again he held his hands out, slowly waving them over the fire. It wasnt a particularly cold morning, but this had been the coldest fall in his memory. Perhaps winter would be harsh enough to keep visitors away for another year; few dared travel this far south in these conditions.


Forty-two winters had passed since he was exiled from the Order on that harrowing autumn night. He left ruin behind him when he departed, but he also carried ruin within him. Twice they came looking for him and twice he turned them away, but it was only a matter of time before they found him again.

Art by SpacedCakes

### A note from the author
> This is the first of many future entries, in which I will attempt to tell the tale of the incredibly powerful yet kind Druid Crowley of the Marsh. A tale I have discovered during my wonderful travels into the rich metaverse created by the FRWC community. A tale of many in a world which was unlocked to me by @wizard55.


Witch Gino of the Inferno

# Stories from the Inferno

The Inferno is a dangerous place for a wooden boy. The all-present hellfire, lakes of melted rock and too common acid rain, makes this place even more unhospitable for Gino than for the other creatures.

This area of the underworld was once ruled by the mighty Prince Mephistopheles, in those times there was at least some semblance to normality like Gino had experienced it in the overworld, the Runiverse. Then while hard, no one complained about life, maybe because of fear but likely due to honest content.
Since the disappearance of the Prince, chaos has unfolded, the Litches and their armies of Forgotten Souls have come from the South and installed tyrannical systems of slavery on the poor souls of the underworld.

A group of slaves have started to organize a rebellion, Gino was ready to use his Witchcraft powers once again, those powers for which he was once burned and damned by the Blue Wizard inquisition, may now be his salvation and only path to liberty.


The Lore **Blood Eater Revenant Alatar of the Nightmare Dominion**

Upon release of the Magic of Alatar, even at less than full output, will cause immense destruction.  There are no survivors, only second-hand stories passed down through the inhabitants of the Nightmare Dominion.  What has been rumored, is that when you are caught in the crossfire, your dreams become nightmares and your mind begins to slowly eat itself.  This is perhaps where the term "Blood Eater" came from, seeing as no one lives to tell the tale from being exposed.  Depending on the exposure to the Magic, a person can be instantly consumed or, as is Alatar's sadistic specialty, to slowly deteriorate an adversaries mind until it eventually eats itself.


Einer Bifurcator of Bugbears

# Einer Bifurcator of Bugbears

Einer wandered the realm searching for something to eat. He encountered @warrior728. The two became fast friends, often competing against one another, always trying to outdo each other in increasingly outrageous competition.

They traveled the lands together, picking up worthy allies in @warrior12950 and @warrior12949.

The companions accepted a quest from the **King** of Kings.

>Venture forth and vanquish the tyranny that lay in the depths of the demon lands.

The King said.

The four traveled to the gates of hell. They carried with them a magic artifact said to be crafted by @wizard0 themself. The party made up their minds, steeled their will, and invaded the abyss.

They fought for 4 fortnites, slaying all demons that impeded their quest. Until they finally reached **The Demon's** layer.

***Einer attacked The Demon's royal guard. Even 3-on-1 the Bugbears were no match for Einer as he cleaved each in two. Suddenly, The Demon cast a dark spell. Seeing his friend*** @warrior728 ***in trouble Einer jumped to his aid. Meeting The Demon headfirst. The two tussled for a while until The Demon gained the upper hand. But it was too late for The Demon, he realized all of his allies were slain. Enraged he flew at*** @warrior12950.

***As the demon fell the Rune of Neptune was chiseled into Einer's mind.***

When the party returned to the King's realm they were greeted with a fantastic celebration. The King rewarded the adventurers with a name.

From that day forth the party became known as...

>**Ruin Demon**


Magus Devon of the Quantum Downs

#  Portraits

By EmptyPz

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By neteruyo
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By Pipipi

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By iloccorb9
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By Tania Del Rio
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By Naoki Saito

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By (Kare)[https://twitter.com/uncaream]
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By ickleelk

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By ta2nb

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By Dmitry Petyakin

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BTC inscription 5347

BTC Inscription 2962

By Sweetbread

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By Binetsu
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By Ak_ism49
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By Nonnonnon
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By The Neon Fairy
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By Aswang
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By Trevor Jones
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By Anonymous
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By Hiwana
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By (Pawwao)[https://twitter.com/PxPaws]

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By (shibairo02)[https://twitter.com/shibairo02]

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By Lorepunk
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Newhere token ID 1706
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By Wise Sam
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By Rare Labs
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By Anemone Kisumi

By 3L
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Drive with updated gallery


Artificer Aslan of the Wold

# Artificer Aslan of the Wold

As we call him Maggie, the Artificer of the Wold that has a magic pet called Hacky, and Maggie has a powerful magic magnet which can steal metallic objects from someone else. Hacky likes to eat a lot of cheese and pieces of corn but Maggie hates cheese and corn so Hacky gets the corn and cheese by himself.


Aden Disintegrator for Freedom

Fifty years have passed, yet, I do not age. Time has lost its effect on me.

Yet the suffering continues, Battle Mage Brutus of Arcadia's grasp chokes the past, present, ... and future.

Got to get back - back to the past, Aden Disintegrator of Freedom.

[See Battle Mage Brutus of Arcadia #6360 entry for the full story.]


Battle Mage Brutus of Arcadia

Long ago in a distant time, I Battle Mage Brutus of Arcadia, the shape shitting master of darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil!

But a foolish Forgotten Warrior, Wielding a lavender double blade stepped forth to oppose.

Before the final shit was shat, I flung open a portal in time, where my stank was law!

Now the fool seeks to return to the past, and undo the stank that is Brutus of Arcadia.

[See Aden Disintegrator for Freedom #12830 entry for the continued story]


Ned the Slow

# Ned the Slow

"If you want to enjoy your travels, Neds the right pony for you!" yells the merchant, trying to catch passers-bys attention, but they seem to care for completely different merchandise: tall ponies, fast ponies, beautiful ponies, clean ponies. Ned is none of these.

Ned loves flowers, especially red ones. He likes how they look, their smell and also their taste, but dont tell his master he eats them otherwise he gets mad.

Ned hates when other ponies call him names. The worst of all is dimwitted, because, as his mother used to say, he is not stupid, just a little special.

Why would anyone want to ride that? asks a snobby towner while approaching the stand.

Neds master, @wizard4802, is a questionable merchant, but an indisputable wizard. The doing is often more important than the outcome," says he while stroking his long white beard.

While the snobby client walks away with a confused look on his face, master Apollo turns to Ned and winks.

Ned doesnt know why theyre traveling the realms. Or why his master pretends he wants to sell him. But, Ned doesnt mind. He likes to ride through the country, while his master sings his lovely tunes.


Rockmov Horror of Titans

I'm a Warrior

And I'm OK

I sleep all night and I work all day

(He's a Warrior
And he's OK
He sleeps all night and he works all day)

I cut down trees

I eat my lunch

I go to the lavatry'

On Wednesdays I go shopping

And have buttered scones for tea

(He cuts down trees
He eats his lunch
He goes to the lavatry'
On Wednesdays He goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea
I cut down trees)

I'm a Warrior

And I'm OK

I sleep all night and I work all day

I cut down trees

I skip and jump

I like to press wild flowers

I put on wizard's' clothing and hang around in bars

(He cuts down trees
He skips and jumps
He likes to press wild flowers
He puts on wizard's' clothing and hang around in bars?)

I'm a Warrior

And I'm OK

I sleep all night and I work all day

I cut down trees

I wear high heels
Suspendies' and a bra
I wish I'd been a girly
Just like my dear pa-pa
(He cuts down trees
He wears high heels?)
(He's a lumberjack
And he's ok
He sleeps all night and he works all day)


Enli Paragon of Brigands

Hi there!

My name is Enli!

I work as a Dungelon Level 3 roaming baddie.

I have a 2% drop rapier drop rate and my dog attacks from behind after the battlel starts.

One day I hope to be the boss of Dungeon Level 3, and one day make it to working on level 4.


Aeromancer Delilah of Arcadia

Delilah, was born in the lush emerald lands of Arcadia.
From a young age the wind called out to her, whispered to her of far off lands.
From ten Delilah was able to manipulate the weather, at first a break in the rain when she wished to play, later tornadoes would evolve with an angry thought or threatening menace.
As she learnt to control her powers, people sort her out. A coin from farmers wishing to soak their fields, merchants needing sun for a festival and fishermen wanting sails filled to chase the schools of fish migrating on the currents.
She amassed wealth but happiness was always lacking, and always the wind whispered to her of far off lands.
This is when Delilah finally put her gold and magic to work.
Hiring the most gifted magical trades available she commissioned the Aeolia a floating ship which would  travel through the clouds, taking Delilah to places she had only dreamed of.
The Aeolia was a Brigantine, two-masted sailing ship with square rigging on the foremast and fore-and-aft rigging on the mainmast. She weighed in at 150 tonnnes, a great sight to behold. The sails were a golden fabric woven from griffin hair, and glistened in the sun. At the bow the figure of the queen of fairies reached out guiding Aeolia to adventure.
She was crewed by 20 Sylph, fiercely loyal to Delilah and masters of sailing the clouds.
Delilah drifted on the wind, free to adventure and dream.


Mystic Willow of the Brambles

# Unwanted Guest

(Illustrated by Yuto Yanagi)


Dwog Fiend of Runes

# Dwog Fiend of Runes

This is the Lore of Dwog, Fiend of Runes.

A wizard's most hated warrior.

How he came across such a violent weapon is still a mystery.

The Attack Drone will hunt down a wizard with ease.

Dwog rarely needs to reach for his ancient Sol Sword to finish the job.

Wizards work overtime to learn the secrets of this machine of wonder, how to counter, how to parry.

The war between Magic and Machine continues...


Druid Evangeline of the Platonic Shadow

Breath in, breath out.

12345.

With her eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with fresh morning air. Once again, the world felt brand new. She could feel the tingling in her skin, rough and dry from the cold air. Inhaling once more, she breathed in all the air she could before she was forced to exhale. The soles of her feet felt soft, like that of a rug; tips of her toes were still numb as if she'd fallen asleep after dancing... She felt warmth on the top of her head, the same sort of feeling she used to get as a child when she felt safe.

I want to stay here forever,

she mused, feeling neither sentient nor divine, she yet was both. She breathed as she always did, her mind serene and content. She felt at peace with the world around her, arms open and free. When she thought of the soft carpet of leaves under her feet, she felt joy overwhelm her. Soon, however, her head grew cold as intense pain wracked her spine. She was weak, feeling like a scourge of negative energy had swept through her body and left it full of pain. She could sense the massive cycle of negative energy welling up from the bottom of the mountain towards the peakexcept that it was neither coming from nor heading to the peak. Instead, it seeped into the ground and into the cave itself.

Opening her eyes, the trees were different, they seemed to be more bent and gnarled. They appeared to have been diseased. The ground had blackened, even the bark of the trees was cracking with evil's presence. The dense mist of light that lingered above the forest floor gave the illusion that it was burning. Its heat pulsated with the beating of a drum and the sound of screaming people.


A cacophony of sounds surrounded her. Unearthly screaming and cries punctuated by clanging steel and the sounds of pain and death, echoing through the woods where life was still trying to thrive, where hope was flickering in the hearts of the good. The trees swayed back and forth in the wind but she heard something else: a second heartbeat. The sounds of life, of hope gave her courage to move forward despite the unknown. She jumped down from her perch, then started running towards the source of this great evil.

She didnt need to run very far, she saw that shadows were emerging from the ground and walking out of the woods. All the trees were dying and assaulting her from everywhere.

She had no idea how to fight such a force. Her body was being ravaged by the evilness of the trees. But she didnt die. Instead, she heard a voice calling her by her name.

Evangeline Evangeline

Her pain, her wounds, her beating heart and her breathing, they all stopped.

Evangeline, wake up.

The sound of her name echoed in her mind, followed by a soft touch on her cheek. She wasnt sure why she was on the floor or why her hand was being held. As she opened her eyes, everything came flooding back: the trees, the war, the beating of the drum, the sound of death. She had no idea where she was, or why there was a strange fox in front of her.

His red fur was the color of blood and flesh, and it seemed to be creeping closer to her, like a hundred red ants, shedding their blood red backs and coming to crawl on her. The fox was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to her chest, his eyes fixed on her.


Youre not dead He said with a heavy voice, I saved you by pulling you out before they got to you"


Mystic Toka of the Wood

Il tait une fois un gardien du carrefour des Kobolds, Toka of the wood est un tre mystique qui recherche constamment  tout savoir sur les voyageurs qui saventurerons sur son chemin. Toka attend patiemment que chacun des aventuriers arrive au carrefour et cest alors quun par un il les arretas avec sa grosse voix de Kobold  Ohhhh passant aventurier, je suis le gardien de ce passage! Dis-moi la rponse  mon nigme et tu te mriteras le passage gratuitement sinon PRENDS GARE, tu devras me payer un Token  moi Toka le mystique si tu CHOUE afin de continuer ton chemin Oh aventurier tmraire!

Give Toka a Token or take the risk!

Donne un token  Toka pour traverser ou bien prends un risque de sauver tes tokens! Si tu ten sens capable de rpondre  cet tre mystique cest  tes risques et pril car les Kobolds ont rputation dtre trs intelligent!

Et SURTOUT! Noublie pas que son chat du bonheur sait lire dans les penses malgr son apparence sympathique  ne te laisse pas pig et sache que les mensonges ne fonctionnent pas DU TOUT grce  ce flin unique pourtant si affectueux! SOIS PRUDENT le chat saura si tu es un MALFAISANT  travers ses yeux perants!


Toka vient du peuple des Kobolds, trs connect avec la fort, la nature et les animaux, ils sont de vritables aventuriers survivalistes! Cela veut donc dire aussi quils savent trs bien se dfendre et particulirement Toka avec son bton magique, LOrb staff! Cest un bton de magicien trs ancien qui saura trs bien te punir si jamais tu oses le dfi! Prend gare aventurier, reste  laffut et bonne chance dans la recherche de la rponse de lnigme du mystique Toka de la fort!


Enchanter Cybele of El Dorado

Enchanter Cybele of El Dorado #8182

Is it the snail, the bell or the hat that's so enchanting? Or is it something else??


Hydromancer Quddus of the Keep

# Hydromancer Quddus & his Sun Cat

Hydromancer Quddus had a sun cat,
an unfortunate familiar
You see, water magic and felines rarely mix
let alone an undomesticated solar creature

Hydromancer Quddus had a sun cat,
oh, how it hissed in fear!
The mage's liquid dreaming oft descended
and a drip or drop fell near

Hydromancer Quddus had a sun cat,
and so an epic quest was born
A desperate search for a long-lost spell
to wash the purple eyed cat, forlorn

Hydromancer Quddus had a sun cat,
together they traversed the dream
'til they cornered a wise old sage
who had a surprsing answer for the team

Hydromancer Quddus had a sun cat,
and at last he had succeeded
A daily petting regimen and some tasty treats
was all the sunny civet needed


Sorcerer Soya of Arcadia

**Human / Sorcerer**
Born on the edge of civilization, Soya was one of 4 siblings all of which were given up for adoption. Their parents, being dirt farmers, found it too difficult to feed and clothe the children that had brought into the Runes. Soya was raised by Raian Fhargnarthnost, A Dragonborn Rogue. Soya and Raian formed a strong bond even though Raian was not his biological father, Soya referred to him as such. At the age of 12 Raian paid for Soya to attend Yellow Wizard Haven school of Magic. There he began his studies in the Arcane arts. After school he worked as an apprentice in the artisan guild. In his final year of schooling Soya created the clockwork war machine that was used to defeat the Chromomancers from invading Hue Masters Pass.


Enchanter Daria of the Surf

Daria lives in her world.

Her world is encompassed.

Its locked.

Its thick.

Its isolated.

Her world is quiet.

Noiseless.

Speechless.

Her world is also happy.

Excited.

Wonderful.

Beautiful.

Daria has so much to say, but her world keeps reigning her in.  She lives best in and around water, where the world is blocked out even further. Her powers grow stronger by the day, and are starting to manifest, albeit slower than she hoped for.  The world does not know how special she is yet ... but they will all soon find out.


Shadow Mage Lilith of the Grotto

There are few magics more powerful than shadow magic, for just as even a dim light may cast a huge shadow, so too can the smallest of magical efforts generate the most spectacular of effects. It is for this reason that the practitioners of shadow magic are never at a loss for eager students clamoring to learn their arts. Indeed, one of the benefits of such magic is the ability to harness it to avoid detection by such cloying supplicants.

However, once every hundred years or so, one student stands out above all the rest and is accepted into the college for training. Once every thousand years, one of those same would-be practitioners graduates as a master shadow mage and goes out into the greater world to make their own indelible mark upon it.

Shadow Mage Lilith of the Grotto is just such a witch.

Beyond simply being a peerless practitioner of such magic, Lilith is a brilliant example of the Shadow Colleges organizing principles in action. In the way that a small candle can project an expansive shadow, Lilith uses her small phylactery - a vial of virgin blood - to cast immensely powerful spells of unmatched skill. Just as the shadow takes on many shapes, so too is Lilith an incredibly versatile young witch, just as comfortable in rough and worn leather armor during her time amongst the Gauldira raiders of The Brine as she was in the luxurious silks and elaborate masks worn by the secretive Court of the Dawn. And, just as shadows are ubiquitous, so too does Lilith seem to have traveled nearly everywhere in her already storied life.

Although this peripatetic lifestyle might seem to be given to loneliness, for Lilith, it has not been. For there is not a piece of this world that Lilith has tread over without her own personal shadow and loyal companion, the beast of shade-made-flesh, her onyx wolf Umbra.


When not traveling abroad, Lilith calls a small seaside cave on the shores of Kelpies Bay home. Lavishly decorated with trinkets and keepsakes from her many quests, the Grotto is a sanctum for Lilith. It acts as both a peaceful respite from the chaos of the outside world and a fortress against the many evils Lilith has combated during her journeys.

There is, of course, one nostalgic keepsake that Lilith does not keep stashed away in the Grotto with all the others: her timeworn green cloak. It was a battle trophy given to her by her longtime friend and erstwhile mentor, Azamoth the Specter, in a duel. It reminds her of a simpler time in her life while also being a well-earned point of pride.

Above all else, Lilith is a witch who desires challenge and adventure, never settling for long in one place or upon one project. Today she might be advising a king on the finer points of magecraft, while tomorrow may find her pursuing seadragons for their hoards of pearls or banishing demons back to the fires from whence they came.

In Liliths life, only one thing is truly certain: nothing ever stays the same for long.


Witch Tabitha of the Marsh

# The awakening of Tabitha by the Bell
(featuring @wizard6287 )

And Peter kneeled and started to pray and told everyone to kneel and pray with him. He spoke, directed to the heavenly father and his son and the holy ghost that this life was taken unjust. Together they chanted and sang the mystic songs of old that their fathers and forefathers had taught them. They sang for long hours until the sun was at its highest peak. And of a sudden, when the day was brightest, the room became mysteriously dark, the candles on the table were blown out by a strong wind that swirled through the room. Everyone was calm but would not stop their chant. And when glancing up onto Tabithas body a strange light started to emanate from inside her chest. A warm and powerful, yet soothing glow that brought warmth to the hearts of everyone in the room.

The door blasted open and filling the enclosure was a sudden **ringing of a bell**. The sound was from the voices of angels, and it rang from the handbell of an unbeknownst stranger that stood in the doorway against the bright light of the sunny day. The figure was silhouetted in a warm glow and was clothed in a green cape with a red hood. From within the hood only a pair of bright blue eyes could be seen. Piercing blue eyes. Such eyes few had seen in this region. Only the people of the north had such unnatural eyes. A murmur went through the crowd. _Look it is the Wazir of the east that came from the north! The one who rings the bell. The minister of the great one._

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmfNub9AMhM


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmfNub9AMhM

And the Wazir spoke:
> _Hear me, believers, and friends of Tabitha. Your prayers have been heard and life will be given again to the one who lies here before us. For her deeds in life were good and just and great and must not be forgotten. We will give her again breath and soul and heart. But as it is, one cannot return to the living without carrying a burden.
Hear this: Tabitha will rise again and breathe and do the good deeds. But she will not come to rest again. When her time is come on earth in this age, she will be reborn as a healer, wise woman, and sorceress. And when her time has come in that age it will be so again and then again and over. She will be reborn. She will know something, and she will know nothing. She will be here and there. Even in the phantasy world of the worthy will she exist to do her good work long after the runes of the north with have been forgotten. Until which time the great one decides her work is done. **This is what I say, and this is what is done**._

There was a last ringing of the bell, a thunder, and a flash of light  and the figure was gone.

Everyone gasped with their mouths open when a soft, sleepy voice spoke from the center of the room: _What happened? Why is everyone here? Did someone die? Oh Peter, my dear friend! It is wonderful to see you, but why do you all look so frightened and scared?_


The light slowly returned back to the room and shone through Tabithas hair that had a very light green shade to it, as did her skin. Barely noticeable. There was a rune on the door, the rune of steel and in the corner under the window, an albino rat peeked around a chest, blinking.

A little boy came in and said: _Hello, someone home? I have a delivery for Tabitha. Its a **peyote**!_

(May 8th, 2022)

##########

This is the last chapter of the full story how Tabitha came to be. For the full story go to How Tabitha came to be a powerful witch

More stories can be found at https://tabitha.wtf/category/lore/

Thank you @wizard6287 for letting me add you to the story!

To follow Tabitha around feel free to add her to your Twitter friends at https://twitter.com/tabitha_6154


Battlemage Aleister of the Belfry

# Stay awhile and listen

What follows is the story of Ale and his companion Bubbles, as they search for away to uncover the true nature of the Sacred Flame.


Sorcerer Casper of the Event Horizon

# Prologue: The Prisoner

*The sound of footsteps* could be heard long before the shadow was seen under the door.  The slot in the metal door clanged open loudly before the food (if you could call it that) slid through, followed by the clang of it closing.  The prisoner sat up slowly, pulled the bowl closer, and crossed his legs.  Meals were sustenance, but also routine, the only anchor to sanity in a place like this.  Anchors were vital when you couldn't remember who you were, where you came from, or why you were here.  If only he could remember his name...

*Flap flap flutter flap*.  His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a bat landing to hang above the door.  That's when he heard the voice in his head.

*Steam*

Was the voice real or had he imagined it? And what did it mean?  He lifted the bowl, meaning to hurl it at the creature, when he noticed its eyes glowing red.  Had he ever seen a bat with eyes like that?  There was an intellect behind those eyes, seeming to pierce his mind.  Then it turned towards the food.

*Steam*

The bowl was filling the room with steam.  That's when it came to him.  Steam meant *warmth*.  Warmth meant *energy*.  Energy meant *power*.
 Beginning to remember, he glanced back up at the bat.  It seemed to nod.  Resting the warm receptacle in his lap, he closed his eyes and began to chant as he had not done in a long time.  As he performed the ritual, glowing red markings faintly appeared on the wall.  What did it mean?  He must remember.  With renewed focus, he chanted again.

"*Urruku ya zi xul*"


"*Urruku ya zi xul*"

As the ground trembled, the markings became clearer and clearer, until finally he knew what he was looking at: *the Rune of Jupiter*.

He was filling with a feeling he had not known in a long time...*HOPE*.


Druid Jerret of the Plains

# Druid Jerret of the Plains

Druid Jerret of the Plains is a peculiar sight. His origin is from the Teqali Klan from the  steppes far to the east. Despite his affiliation with the nomad clans he does not ride on horseback, yet is still able to maintain the same speed as his clan by his mobility magic.
Jerret believes that he mustn't enslave animals as his powers are originate from their energies.
Jerret is said to be older than a 100 years old, yet his appearance is much younger and he is much more full of vigor.
He is able to turn into animals that are within a certain radius from him, and employ these animal's gifts to cure people from disease or bestow certain blessings upon them.


Logan of the Baobabs

I'm Logan of the Baobabs

I should have 100% affinity.

The color purple characterizes me

I really like beer

But I'm not the only one who likes it, my goat likes it too.

We both like to drink beer in the sun

I'm  the Jungle Commando

And Purple Provocator Garb fits me perfectly.


Orusula Razer of the Pavillion

A thousand willing splinters,
---
*sprung* up from the floor.
---
Hardwood spears into my foot,
---
(what more could I ask for).
---
A thousand marbles *unfolded*,
---
down King Solomons stair.
---
Dripped into my backpack,
---
(disguised as I, tattered and bare).
---
---
A thousand sentient grasshoppers,
---
in their blue cloaks, waited to greet.
---
A mob of ravenous paupers,
---
with bulging eyes, on Whitfield street.
---
A thousand clouds of black smoke rose,
---
in a web of lies untold.
---
 While one Forgotten Warrior stood,
---
Like a wall of Brick and Gold.
---
---
A thousand rusted gyro-copters,
---
gently danced in drunken sway.
---
As endless sharpened seashells,
---
staring seaward, marched away.
---
A thousand crooked couriers,
---
wrought wicked words, inked in red wine
---
 While one Forgotten Warrior stood,
---
Like Obsidian wrapped in Poison Vine.
---
---
Sula Sir - you are my friend! What madness so grips thee?
---
I would follow you from hell to golden shores of Galilee!
---
Sula Sir - my brother, ho! What hell is in your eye?
---
Id give you every drop of soul and leave my spirit dry!
---
---
#  Leif Dojang
# https://tonewoodblack.tumblr.com/
---
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGFgCJJXYRo
**


Adept Bullock of the Marsh

Bullock was supposed to be the chosen one. The Elders deemed it so, yet the Gods had yet to bestow their power unto him. While the rest of the tribe received their blessings, he had not. It was far past his coming-of-age ceremony, and still he woke to no magical gifts.

This quickly led to a rift in the tribe, and Bullock was quickly outcast into the wilds. The tribe branded him a false omen, and he would never be allowed within the walls of the Minotaur city again.

So began Bullock's first real adventure. In the process of surviving the wilds, he came across an injured rabbit, and instinctively nursed it back to health. While Bullock may not have had the healing magic his brethren did, he was quite skilled in herbalism.

Once the rabbit came to, he revealed himself as the God Moemeej, an ancient spirit of the forest. Delighted with the selfless care provided to him by the minotaur, Moemeej bestowed upon him The Gift of the Woods.

Bullock finally received the magic he so desperately yearned for, yet he would still be outcast as the magic did not come from his own gods. So he and Moemeej, in the shape of the timid rabbit, set off to seek the secrets of the forest, and to hopefully find some peace within his own soul.


Shaman Caligari of the Desert

Caligari, the voodoo shaman of the sands. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? I came up with it myself!

Jerimethia didn't really cut it, in terms of inspiring fear and death into one's enemies now does it? But that's neither here nor there.

Who I am now, is, the most powerful voodooist in all of the The Sand! Ok, technically I'm also the only voodooist in all of The Sand, but that doesn't change anything! I will take over the whole realm...just as soon as I figure out how to do more than hex myself to sleep tonight.

It's been a rough journey learning the ways of Voodoo, and the secrets do not reveal themselves to just anyone! By teaching what I know to others who are lost, I hope to find out more, but also have an army to take over the realm with. That would be nice, I'm not so sure I can do it on my own.

Nope. I definitely don't think I could do it on my own, so it's very important we figure out some voodoo so we can teach it to these kids I stole.

One day, I, CALIGARI THE GREAT VOODOO SHAMAN OF THE SANDS, will rule over all of the Forgotten Runes with a power like none other!


Rotten Revenant Bayard of the Nether Regions

# Bayard's Ballad

Undead wizards of the night
Their souls live on, but not alive

Through the flame they all went
In search of hell's magic lent

One went in on the fourth of December
Out came **Rotten Revenant Bayard**

His magic key was fused to skull
His angelic prayer became a song

Sing the tune to this key
And zombies will appear with glee

At your disposal they will fight
With the devil's magic in all their might

*But enchanter!* Beware his tune
Bayard's stink it comes too

**The Nether Region stink of death**
It kills and rots all the flesh

If the skull of Bayard on a body rests
You'll hear his song in the form of **stench**

Your enemies will rot in hell
But so will you, *beware the spell!*


Battle Mage Finn of the Dunes

# Battle Mage Finn of the Dunes

A wanderer named Finn of the Dunes...
A magical Wizard of the Forgotten Runes...
Lost his eye to a wizard named Dark Crown...
Playing a game of Scoods in Goblin Town...
Bigwig his dirt rabbit never leaves his side...
Unless he spots some dandelion fries...
Spells are cast with his big magic stick...
And even a swing will leave you dead quick...
He's heard whispers that he's a bit strange...
But of course, that's what's wonderful about this Battle Mage.


Shaman Cairon of the Palms

Context: YouTube > Nathan Evans Wellerman

There once was a wiz his name was c
and he roamed the waves of the opensea
tossed and thrown both to and fro
his destiny to roam

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow

It had not down two minutes bore
When up he went
Listed once more
He bowed his head this is my lot
I'll never find my own

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow

He waited whilst the listing tread
A lowering price
Hanging by a thread
The captain sore with motive he
And Cairon he did go

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow

A right new home
Another land
Perhaps this time the buy would stand
Alas it was not meant to be
And set adrift was he

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow

Carion's tale was all but lost
His fate an ever-lowering cost
Down to the sea floor he did go
And then sunk lower still

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow

Now he rests in a brand new home
Scraped from the depths by one unknown
Will he rest or will he go
His tale is yet to know

Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow


Soon may the buyerman come
To bring me a home not two but one
Soon may the buyerman come
To take me home in tow


Sage Nikolas of El Dorado

# What does it mean to be from a place considered lost...

# ... can such a sage ever truly be found?

El Dorado fades from memory to legend... as the Joy Staff charts the path forward.

Where may great wealth be found or made?

... Nikolas ..........

Is the path to El Dorado forward or backward ?? backward or forward Dorado El to path the Is

Green consumes gold... the river moves ever forward...

...... Sage Nikolas ...............

Are the true riches within the Wizard... if only the forgotten rune can be remembered...

.... the Joy Staff... Nikolas.........

... can such a Sage ever truly be found?

# ... the path to El Dorado ...


Artificer Corvin of the Event Horizon

# Two Crows' Bazaar: The Forever Store

What appears to be a ramshackle structure is not. A narrow staircase leads to a porch and simple double doors situated between two oversized, paned windows. Over the doorway hangs a luminous horseshoe giving the slightest of hums. Above the horseshoe a sign on an overhanging ledge reads Two Crows and even further above a vertical lightning bolt symbol surrounded by the letters T C B. This is Two Crows Bazaar, the Forever Store; property of the renowned, magic-wielding artificer Corvin the Collector and his familiar crackerjack crow Cash.

#

The Bazaar has a literal pulse. Its living stilt-like legs and feet allow for travel alongside the wizarding rook Corvin and companion Cash who stay in constant motion scouring countless dimensions in search of the rarest of treasures. While appearing modest in size, the Bazaar is in fact as magical as its inhabitants with interior expanding and contracting at will. Legend has it the Bazaar shared the magical pairs obsession of collection and actually collected them! Regardless of whom collected whom, Corvin, Cash and the Bazaar now find themselves in pursuit of mythical possessions in the most legendary of placesthe Runiverse.

#


Alchemist Oberon of the Rock

# The Lore of Alchemist Oberon of the Rock

The Alchemist Oberon is the Byzantine sage, a philosopher, and teacher that wrote and practices alchemy, astrology, and astronomy.

Oberon is the first to travel the lengths and breadths of the Forgotten Rune transforming his Jinx staff into red mythical wings. During the voyage, not only did he save the people of the Goblin town from the Goblin giant, he summoned the powerful ponies to the Elysian Fiends to fight the great dragons from the East. He is known for his kind heart and his rib tickling jokes.

Now, he is seen meditating at the Zaros Oasis, waiting for the rise of the Forgotten Rune Metaverse!


Enchanter Artis of the Valley

Enchanter Artis of the Valley #3039

This chick wants me to drink bug juice, yo!


Magus Lumos of the Marsh

Forever living in the beauty of the green.

Magus comes out, when he wants to be seen.

Hell barter your health, to build up his  wealth and trade with those whom are keen.

Good riddance aches, sayonara pain, take only the meds, backed by his name.


Pyromancer Calista of the Citadel

# Pyromancer Calista of the Citadel and Cinder

#3344  Chapter I: Introduction

Today's feature is of Pyromancer Calista of the Citadel and Cinder the Rat. Calista's pyromaning made strong impressions on her as a child and she  had the inspiration to start Apex Rocket Company at the age of 22, right out of the Engineering University. Calista is the host of the "Grand Celebration" at the Citadel each year where she dazzles crowds with her fireworks. She invites acts from all over the Runiverse to come to the Citadel and showcase their talents and magic.  Calista and her family took up residence in a large historic mansion (reputed to be haunted) in the Coastal District of the Citadel over 14 years ago.

Calistas Citadel is situated along the coast of The Brine near the Red Wizard Capital and the Kobald Crossroads. This city was once a small coastal village of fisherman. Only recently, has it become the bustling city that it is today.  Calista founded Apex Rocket Company here and the company quickly took off. Calista and her team designs, manufacture and sell  many of the types of rocket motors that propel non-magic craft. Their slogan To the Moons is featured in media across the realm.  Apex Rocket Company employs thousands and is the major source of industry and innovation in the area. The successful rocket business allows for her to attract the top design, engineering, and wizard talent in the land. Housing has become very expensive and the growth in the Citadel has outpaced the infrastructure. But with a little bit of hard work and magic things should be easing up soon.


She has graciously allowed us to interview her for this feature. Many journalist have been trying to get her to speak candidly for years, only now has she decided to interview with Wizard Weekly and has granted us unprecedented access to her world of business, magic, and of her social life. Lets get started!  The Actual interview will be published soon.

Calista is know to associate with @wizard113 and @wizard7238. She loves to ride the @pony100


Azahl of the Wood

# Azahl of the Wood ... the unknown

It's raining. Like always in these long days. Almost everyone is sitting by a warm fire and chatting with friends and beloved during these times while waiting for the strongest winter passes by.  But somewhere, deep in the woods, a figure in the shadow is lurking through dense branches. His clothes can hardly spend enough heat to keep him alive for much longer  Why is he out there, all on his own.

Back in the town, he is only known by Anzahl of the wood. A strange guy, who prefers to live only in company with his familiar in an old, strange cottage deep in the woods. Now and then, in the middle of the night, it seems the cottage is glowing for a blink of a second. People start whispering about him doing advanced alchemy out there a few winters ago.
It seems like he is there since the old times, only the oldest among the cult know who he really is, but they all keep quiet for some reason


A bungle of wet herbs in his bag and frozen to the bones, Anzahl reaches his cottage. It takes him quite some time to set up a fire to make himself a poor meal. After warming up from the inside and outside, he searches his pockets for today's harvest herbs. On the other side of the room, somewhere in the dark, Anzahl has set up a strange looking construct of bottles and glasses. Maybe today  Anzahl mumbles while going to the table. The fire has almost burned down when he finished  whatever he was doing.
Back at the fire, he put a new wood into the fireplace. There you are he whispers to his familiar, who never left his side since he came back to the cottage. After starring another few hours in the fire, he threw something to his familiar. It seems like it was waiting for that moment, eating it, whatever it was, up almost instantly.
This was the time when someone else in the wood looked up to the old cottage, which glow up out of the nowhere, melting all the snow in a small area around the House.

He is  getting Close  I  I  Have to tell the Others . But  not . today


Sorcerer Taqi of the Pit

# The Lore of Sorcerer Taqi of the Pit and Wolf

~~It was many many years ago.~~

Before those years when Taqi had to live alone in this barren Pit land.
When the wolf mother, who would later become her best friend, was just a baby wolf.

It is true that those lands are unproductive in harvest, but wisdom can be said to be gushing around the Pit. For decades, all wise wizards and wise tribes lived peacefully and friendly. Those lands were home to many wizards who got on well with each other. So what happened after that, there is no trace of that colony that got on very well with each other. Why did they compete with each other to smash the rules inherited from their ancestors ?!

Everything started with the dark magic that Necromancer Scratch did before he became 'Evil' and could not see where it would end. He cast a terrifying poisonous spell that poisoned and afflicted himself, as well as all wise wizards. And after a while, all those wise peoples were engaged in a war without a winner. And wars bring blood. Unfortunately, little Taqi's family was among the losers in this war like the others. Poor Taqi was miraculously surviving amid all these bad events. However, it was difficult to decide from the outside whether this was good or bad. Because he no longer had a family to take care of him, nor a wise tribe.

Fortunately, Taqi was still alive when the mother wolf stumbled upon him. The wolf took care of him like a cub. Together they formed a friendship that would last for many years. And this friendship would bring many stories to be told for many years to come. The adventure was just beginning for Taqi.
.....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A06bDmpNTJU


Sorcerer Harley of the Veil

# The Lore of Sorcerer Harley of the Veil

Harley began life as a Genesis MoonCat, one of the 160 who chose the path of heroes and stayed behind on Luna to save their brethren from the impending solar eclipse. Due to a freak accident at the sub-lunarian moonbase (someone spilled tuna on a particle accelerator), Harley got sucked through a wormhole and ended up in the Forgotten Runes. The journey through the rift in space-time also changed Harley down to the subatomic level, uplifting the MoonCat to superhuman intellect and endowing him with the ability to wield magic.

Curiously enough, Harley wasn't the only one to traverse that particular wormhole on that fateful day. Something else was also ejected from the wormhole, a scorched refinery crucible filled with once molten iron, with a pure tungsten sphere inside. Using magic to re-melt the iron, levitate the sphere out, and crack it open, Harley found the most unexpected creature inside: a snail. Not only that, a hyper intelligent immortal snail, who communicated to Harley that it had only one mission in life: to locate and physically touch a certain somebody. Harley wasn't sure what that whole business was all about, but being two peas in a pod, torn from their own universes to find themselves stranded in this new one, the two decided to travel together, and quickly became fast friends.


That was many years ago, and since then, Harley and the Immortal Snail have acclimated to life in their new home. Harley still walks the path of heroes, using his magic to defend the denizens of the Runiverse against Forgotten Souls and the evil minions of the Quantum Shadow. But he has a much more critical long-term concern than these day-to-day struggles, because he knows something that others in his world do not. That theirs is not the only universe. There are many, many universes out there, some like the Forgotten Runes, others drastically different, populated by all sorts of unusual, and sometimes deadly inhabitants.

As a dimensional magic user, Harley has been to many of these worlds...he has even considered returning to the MoonCats, but he knows that MoonCat society is in good hands with the rest of the Genesis cats, so he decided to stay in the Forgotten Runes to help his new home prepare for the impending threat. Because it's only a matter of time before the barriers between all these different universes start to break down and they all converge into one ultimate metaverse. When that happens, there will be far greater existential threats to this world than wraiths and liches (Harley has seen all manners of fantastical creatures during his interdimensional travels, from a goddess named Irene leading an army of simps, to a horrific type of demon called a Larva Chad). When the convergence happens, chaos will come. And Harley will be ready, scythe in hand and his companion the Immortal Snail by his side.


Bloody Mary

# Bloody Mary

## Genesis

The night air held a rancid and repulsive scent, ash drifting on the lazy breeze, acrid smoke billowing and obscuring the hunter's moon partly visible above in the cloudless sky. The obscene smell was enough to make one gag, to make weary eyes run rivers of sooty tears and set sniveling noses running. Only the barest whimpers and the slightest wheeze, accompanied by the symphony of sizzling and burning flesh, could be heard over the sound of hard heels slapping on cobbled stones.

Ever since her first execution, that delightful maiden voyage so long ago was now one of her most precious memories, her trusted Torch had burned ever more fiercly. The immolations were a necessity at first, to cleanse the realm of heretics and the unfaithful, but more and more the ritual leaned deliciously towards indugleance.

It was truly a wonder to observe and delight in all the fascinating ways the fire affected the body; from the initial agony of searing the nerves from the skin, granting the doomed a short-lived reprieve, to shifting fluids and shrinking husk. Then, with the expulsion of one final foul and gurgling breath her trap would slam shut, imprisoning the unwilling spirit - stench and all - to an eternity of subservience in her incandescent vessel.

Her ritual concluded, a confident stride swiftly took Mary away from the enormous pyre, her biggest yet, Torch sputtering and spitting merrily at her side. Sated for the moment by the latest addition of tortured captive souls, she raised her magical companion to cast the gloom ahead in vermillion hues, and disappeared into the night.


Teny Breaker of the Flame

# Teny the Tiny Breaker of the Flame

### A tiny warrior who eats fire and boils water with her crowbar. Some question her companion of a buffkin but Teny just laughs with fire. Teny holds the rune of air in which she can turn air into smoke. Watch your lungs around Teny.


Druid Faiz of Arcadia

# The Lore of Druid Faiz of Arcadia

When asked, Druid Faiz says he is from Arcadia, which usually does the trick of avoiding further questions. In reality, Faiz has roamed the Runiverse for so long that he feels he is from everywhere (or perhaps nowhere)

Using his magic staff, Druid Faiz is able to travel and observe events occurring throughout the Realms. And sometimes they like to write about what they observe...


Harper the Enchanting

# The Lore of Harper the Enchanting

As a young foal, Harper was encouraged to color strictly within the lines. Every lesson on being a great pony companion to wizards involved countless hours of getting commands exactly correct, not missing a single step and certainly not deviating from protocol and decorum.

Harper was always different, however. All the admonitions and corrective measures couldn't get Harper to just follow the steps and pass training. While all the other ponies in pony school were following instructions closely, Harper's gaze always went towards the Forbidden Fields..

No one really knew much about the forbidden fields except that they had been closed off for as long as anyone could remember. Rumors had it that they were somehow linked to the Psychic Leap.

One day when no one was paying attention, Harper took the chance that presented itself and passed the gates into the Forbidden Fields for a forbidden frolic. It looked completely unlike anything on the outside. The landscape was completely foreign, bursting with color and light. Without even thinking once about it, Harper impulsively took a bite of a glowing carrot.

From that day forward, Harper saw the world differently. With the help of 3D glasses to make sense of it all, Harper could now perceive magical energy differently. Sometimes this means intuiting the intentions of wizards who conceal their true motives. Other times it means perceiving the presence of magical objects or passages and still other times it means amplifying the effects of nearby magic being used.

Harper may not be destined to follow each and every order of a wizard companion, but for those open to straying outside the lines, Harper's journey offers unexpected adventures and surprises of all varieties.


Archmagus Alessar of the Wood

# Archmagus Alessar of the Wood

Archmagus has been in the woods he's whole life consistently stoned. He lost his prop in the woods some years ago and is still on the lookout for it. Archmagus is known for forgetting due to all the years of being statued in the woods. His companion runny the rat is what holds him together and is his light in the foggy forest.


Archmagus Raul of the Havens

# Raul's Redemption

A once cunning and admired figure, second in line to the Yellow Wizard Haven, Raul's life spiraled into oblivion upon his initiation to Archmagus. He was an alchemist and elegant story teller; the best potion salesman in North Haven thanks to his family's motto of **don't get high on your own supply**. This enabled him to acquire vast sums of wealth and influence thanks to maintaining sobriety from the exceptional potions and tinctures he sold.

**To be continued...**


Witch Rita of the Grotto

Stories abound.

Most fade beyond memory. Few sustain.

Humans devolve into ever increasing chaos, disconnected from the potential they once had.

Yet hope remains.

Perhaps in ever smaller amounts, perhaps in the same amount just harder to see.

In the stories that once bound us together, of fellowship and bravery, fighting for a better world...

Of unwilling heroes, stayed by the darkness they've already seen.

Hope remains.

However mild, however meek

However overcome by the waves of unrest

Like a whisper lost in the depths of crescendoing noise

Like a glimmer upon the sea, a moment makes the journey worthwhile.

A glimmer, that makes a story worth telling.

For those who may yet believe.

......................................................................................

A ship sailed.

Through writhing wisps of fog, the ship sailed.

Unbound by care and silent in the dark waters, nudged ever so slightly by the roaming waves - the ship sailed.

......................................................................................

Rita had heard the stories.
Fire and brimstone had been rained down by her aunt, reiterating the same old droning mores. The ship will take you away, they said - if you don't abide by the
warnings foretold and retold by generation after generation of ancestors repeating each others mistakes. Comforting threats, in the oddest of ways - laws
passed down as legend, an effective tool for mitigating debate. The community was miserable. This misery however birthed a stoic form of predictability - no one would
ever dare speak of it, in fact when questioned would use the same old legends to pound out of their opponent any suspect notion of the truth, and perpetuating the stories on
which their control - the only joy they had produced - was built.


The legends were boring. They interested only those who saw their value as tools of control, and those who were afraid of them of which Rita was neither. She had seen the
fae flitting happily from flower to tree in the groves, unbothered by the legends that made so many others fade into mundane oblivion, losing all track of their potential
as they traded their uncertain hearts for certain position. The human world was an unfeeling place, but Rita has discovered light. A glimmer of happiness, she thought, was
worth all the lifetimes of celebrated misery.

Magic was forbidden. Magic was dark - and Rita's previous endeavors in engaging with the fae had earned her marks she'd not forget. Yet each reprimand only made her more
eager, more intent on discovering what it was that was so special it had to be avoided at all costs without explanation or thought. There was a stirring in the darkness, a
calling to which Rita felt drawn. Her peers were afraid - what intrigued her plagued her friends and what sparked in her wild imagination brought nightmares to them. The
legends, they said - the legends said they're dangerous. Then what danger, I wonder, could be worse than this? She'd answer. But no response came - surely what lies
beyond must be worse than a guilded cage, they said. Better to remain safe - though safe to what end, Rita wondered. Maybe some are content unhappy. Maybe some, once in a quantum century,
are not.

What lies beyond the pale? Why must be leave our questions unasked? What harm may come to those who reign when others dare to venture out? Why? None of it made sense.
Those who said they cared about her seemed not to care about her happiness. The world was a confusing place - and magic seemed the only thing that might have answers.


Anyway. Tales of misery and trite human behaviors hardly interest anyone anymore. The point is that as Rita experimented with magic, her skills grew. It was there in the
grove, the same of the flitting fae - that a leaf had just begun to tremble at the enchantment of her transport spell, as the earth split open and
a yawning chasm swallowed her up.

She fell.

And fell

and fell

and fell

and fell.

How much time passed Rita had no knowledge, time seemed an abstraction in the void.

She fell

and fell

and fell

and fell

and fell until

just kidding she keeps falling

ok she finally stops.

Yet still, surrounding her is pure nothingness. Pitch black, with a strange sense of calm. A faint sound emerges, like the sound of snowfall...the sounds stars might make if their
twinkling were audible. In turn, small points of light begin to glow - indeed like stars - as if she were suspended in the cosmos itself. Full of life, yet devoid of everything.
A single moment of unity, where all life begins and ends and begins again, where everything exists and nothing exists at the same time, all possibility wrapped
into a single space.

Trees begin to flicker. Like dawn, the world begins to emerge again. A river, a toad (what's he doing here?), a mushroom that rapidly skitters away and a giant set of eyes
appear like a newly-snapped Polaroid.

As the light returns, the eyes vanish. The toad croaks happily and the mushroom peers out from under a stone on the river's opposite shore. It looks faintly like the grove
she left - however many years ago it was. Indeed, the fae are still flitting from tree to tree. She shakes her head and stands up - enough for one day.


It must have been a dream. Her experimentations with magic, she realized, must have indeed carried her into a dark realm. Or she knocked her head. Unsure which, she stepped
slowly towards her village.

The light glinted off the tin roof of her neighbor's home. It was almost sunset, yet there were no fires. It was eerily quiet. As she peered into the light, a cat skittered
panicked across her path. Elfa? The eyes glowed at her from behind the bushes. Puzzled, Rita carried on towards town.

A knock. At once, the door to her home fell open, freed from its rusty hinges. Her aunt was no where to be found, and the house had clearly been abandoned for ages. She departed.
No love lost.

Etna, what happened? She found her neighbor sitting outside, drifting off.

Who are you?

I'm Rita.

Who?

Rita.

No response.

I used to live next door to you. Etna, where is everyone?

Silence.

No one has been here for thirty years. At least...

Silence again.

They moved on.

Where?

To the island. There was a war...

Choose your own adventure. Or lazy writing. But what is a story without the reader's imagination? Was the war because the sect had delved too deep in their search for power?
Warring factions tore the region apart? Or did increasing numbers of dissenting dreamers shake the foundations as the ruling class tried to quash them? Were the dissenters magic?
Or simply humans looking for happiness? Did they succeed?

Rita waited for the elder to speak again but there was only space.


Rita waited for the elder to speak again but there was only space.

One would think Rita would have questions, but strangely they seemed to have all been answered long ago. In the misery that hid its lies, the unhappiness that threatened a
revolution, the whispers in the dark and even the time in the void...everything seemed more logical now than it had ever been. Magic may have been forbidden, but its secrets
were no less true.

She departed.

......................................................................................

The wind whipped across the stones of Evermoor. Her fire, glowing cheerfully in her grotto, cast dancing shadows across the pile.

Those eyes - again.

For a fortnight, she had been watched. Each night, they would glow in the dark from the rough waters. Though she sometimes sat and watched them as intently as they watched her,
they never blinked. Dissipating with the dawn, she had grown accustomed to their eerie presence.

She slept.

The air afoul with the smell of wet fur, Rita awoke with the dawn to find a tabby cat curled beside her, drenched as if it had come from the sea itself. Neither purring nor
snoring, with its still frame beside the last of her fire's glowing green embers, its fur began to dry. In an instant, its eyes darted upward as it curled itself into a
seat, settling on her from across the fire. Elfa.


The neighbor's cat. The cat she grew up with, playing with when she was ten. How had this cat lived thirty years? For that matter, how had she? Had it been thirty, or three hundred? She attributed her lack of
growth to her time spent in the void, but little had she noticed that as the rocks wore down as the waves crashed on them day after day, that her skin had not gained a
single wrinkle. Time in the grotto, like in the void, seemed irrelvent. It was only now, looking across the once-again dancing flames that Rita realized she had lost all
concept of time. The cat, however, remained.

Hello.

It seemed an awkward start. Hello? Ok, what do you say to a cat? A clearly immortal, magical cat? Where have you been all these years? Did you throw me into the void? Have you
been with me all along? Do you speak English? Or speak?...Sigh. Sometimes words were a burden.

Elfa's eyes glowed. At once, a small stream of water wound its way from the sea into the grotto, curling its way into a spiral next to the fire and calming into a mirrored pool.
Rita glanced into the pool. It was only her reflection. Yet as the stillness of her reflection stared back at her, she remembered.


What does she remember? This writer has no idea. But Elfa's magic lies in drawing out other's intution...allowing them to see for themselves, through themselves, unlocking
each person's own power through reflection. She is an aid, and a superpower, all on her own - as humans (and wizards, for they are partly human too) hold all chaos and all
order, all good and all evil, within themselves. Those who run from what lies within them may be destroyed by it, just as those who embrace it may yet use it, for better or for
worse, to strengthen themselves. Indeed the greatest game fate ever played with villians was hiding their demise within even as they destroyed the world around them - a
failsafe, perhaps.

In intuition lies great power, yet the last place one would think to search would be in the form of a cat. Or a cat with a mirror, as it were.

......................................................................................

Elfa and Rita had spent days fending off the meddlesome toads. Amidst zaps, pounces, and all-out thwacks, the toads were known for their impenetrable will to cause chaos
and disruption, flinging accusations and riddling their victims with unrelenting annoyance as gleefully as they snatched flies from the air. Contributing nothing, the toads
found joy sucking the life out of others and had found a new game beneath the rocks of Rita's grotto. Another night of insatiable croaking, and there was a squishy plop on one
of the rocks by the fire.

Blorp.

Rita glared.

Excuse me?

Blorp. Cat

The slimy toad grinned then cowered as if it had been hit.

Cat...eat...me...blorp

Cat try eat me blorp..

Blorp


Cat...eat...me...blorp

Cat try eat me blorp..

Blorp

Elfa rolled her orange eyes.

A spark from Rita's hand and a green flame shot across the grotto. The toad yelped as it hopped from the ledge, plopping unceremoniously into the waves below.

Well he was...slippery.

Elfa glared.

No? No puns?

Elfa purred.

I mean their words alone are poison, who would even try to eat them? What an unfounded accusation, purely undelectable.

Elfa gagged.

Honestly. We don't even have salt.

Another toad poked its head into the grotto, with five others in tow. Soon the ground was flooded with hopping hecklers, as Elfa pounced and chased them around the fire. A few
minutes later, the grotto was calm again.

Rita sighed. Elfa stared.

It's so much energy. Sustaining that kind of magic is exhausting, but I don't know how else we're going to sleep. But this is four weeks Elfa, what are we going to do?

The glimmer of green fire wraithed and surrounded the outer edge of the grotto. It kept the toads away, and at enough of a distance even their croaking was faint enough to
allow them to sleep. But solutions seemed elusive.

The morning dawned in mist. Only green embers remained of the perimeter, yet the toads seemed nowhere to be found. An almost eerily quiet brought a stunning peace.

Blorp.

Blorp blorp blorp blorpblorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp


The cachophanous noise of the toads was faint. Present, but faint. Rita squinted into the distance as Elfa stretched and yawned.

On a jetty in the water, the toads hopped madly. Hundreds of green bodies bounced as the jumped and railed against the newly-discovered anemones that had been living for
months in the tide pools.

Blorp blorp anemone

Anemone blorp

Blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp blorp

Unbothered, the anemones waved their arms softly under the water that blocked the toads' noise, while some of the toads turned their attention to the waves that began to lap at
the sides of the rocks, growing angry at the anemones' apparent disintrest in their chaos and flinging accusations against the waters' unruly behavior. As their lack of power
to disrupt the tide became apparent, some frenzied toads threw themselves into the sea, causing more cacophany among the remaining toads.

BLORP SEA BLORP BLORP

EAT SEA SEA EAT US BLORP BLORP

BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP

The waves continued hitting the rocks in rhythmic fashion, though unlike the regular dance of the moon. The waves rippled inward, as if caused by some
disturbance at sea.

Rita looked up in time to catch a glimpse of fluttering white canvas. Indeed, on the horizon, a vessel came into view. Flowing gracefully in turn with the water's beat,
the ship sailed.

......................................................................................


......................................................................................

BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP
BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLORP BLRP

The toads dropped off one by one into the sea as the ship sailed steadily closer. A faint wisp of paranoia swept over Rita, as if some small measure of the legends had engrained
itself in some part of her memory. But curiousity washed over her in waves. An intuition, even, a feeling of connection - of being drawn to the ship as steadfastly as it drew
towards shore. Elfa curled at her side.

The ship wasn't far out now - figures began to move on the deck as the white sails bowed and snapped with the gusts that carried them forward. Merry sounds began to carry
across the water - sea shanties?

SEA SHANTIES??? This must not be the ship from the legends. All clear. Her laugh rang out across the sea as she bellowed at herself for believing it.

The faces on board turned her direction. Gestures and scurrying activity commenced as the ship began to change course. Uh-oh.

What if they're not friendly?

Elfa stared pointedly.


What if they're not friendly?

Elfa stared pointedly.

I didn't know they would hear me.

As they made their way towards an overhang of rocks, Rita continued to ply her position.

I mean, they're singing sea shanties...

Pirates don't sing sea shanties...

She glanced out from behind they rock.

Oh wait they do.

Elfa rolled her eyes.

Well they sounded like friendly shanties.

Elfa and Rita watched as the ship neared the sand, furling its sails as the bow hit the beach.

Or funny...

The crew began to disembark.

I mean, that one looks like an elf.

She glanced back at Elfa, whose eyes narrowed with disapproval.

What how bad can it be?

A spark zinged off the rock in front of them. Rita and Elfa stared at each other.

Ok, fine.

As they scrambled to higher ground, sparks zinged left and right behind them, ricocheting off of rocks and bouncing towards the sky. As they passed a nearby seacave, they ducked
inside. Half filled with water already from the rising tide, Rita peered around the corner, sending return zaps and orbs of green flame searing down towards the shore.

HOLD!

Silence.

The sparks had stopped flying, but the silence was worse. Rita gingerly made her way across the opening of the cave, feet submerged on the slippery rocks under the incoming
waves. Elfa floated by, her control over water being one of the perks she enjoyed over her nonmagic counterparts. Rita faked a glare.

Oh, that's great. Rub it in.

Elfa licked her paw gracefully.

Nimbly humbly dumble puff!

Rita and Elfa stared frozen at each other.


Rita and Elfa stared frozen at each other.

Rita stifled a laugh.

WHat?

No other sound came.

Not knowing whether their persuers were crazy, class-A nincompoops, or both - which might be the most dangerous combination - Rita and Elfa waited. Or, Rita thought, perhaps they're
particularly clever - getting her to give away their position by laughing would certainly take the cake.

Nimbly humbly dumble puff!

Nimbly humbly dumble puff? Where have I heard that before?

She looked at Elfa.

It sounds like the old rhymes from the spellman's book we found at Inaris.

The pages had been torn, many too faded by the trips of the sun across their ancient pages. But something about the rhyme sparked a memory.

Rita shot up a beacon of green flame.

Ahoy!

Footsteps scratched in the distance, the seafarers turning towards the light.

The voice called out again, this time from just above the cave.

Ahoy there! I say, are you wizard-kin?

Rita froze. She was afraid, and excited. She had waited too long for others like her, long given up on the dream of shared reality. But she was not alone.

Elfa, stay here.

Elfa's eyes widened.

No. For right now, you don't exist.

Before Elfa could refuse, Rita lept up onto the pile across the water, the tide lapping at her heels as it frothed into the filling tidepools.

I am.


I am.

Her eyes darted across the rocks - four, maybe five sailors. Various - types? - creatures? she had never seen before. One, indeed, appeared to be an elf, one a formless figure
with eyes that spoke of mysteries and a wrought wood staff, an - imp? - and even an old man with spectacles so thick it was impossible to know how he could see, or maybe via
his spectacles his vision was actually 10/10 that we should all in fact be jealous.

The speaker, a jovial looking fellow - the singer - wore a brown pointy hat and sported a jolly beard that would make Santa feel as if he must be only 14. His quick eyes settled
in her direction.

Why did you not answer with the wizard cry?

She thought of a range of responses.

What is the wizard cry?

He studied her intently.

Why don't you know it?

She paused. I could answer a question with a question again, she thought, but this could turn into an episode of night time game-show television. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

I don't know any other wizards.

But you know magic.

...Yes.

How?

She sighed. The long ages of loneliness, while not entirely unpleasant and at other times even utterly enjoyable, had still made her weary at whatever age she was now. And
as much as she had waited for a sign that she wasn't a species of one, answers that even she didn't know wouldn't satisfy the wizard's curiousity.

My story is long, and I would rather simply know if you plan to end it here.

Through space that seemed to stretch into time, the brown wizard lowered his wand.

I don't. Come with us if you wish.

Where?

He watched the thoughts flicker across her face.

To the land of magic.


Where?

He watched the thoughts flicker across her face.

To the land of magic.

He turned away.

That's where it goes?

He cast back over his shoulder, a chiming laugh briefly ringing out.

Didn't they tell you about the ship?

......................................................................................

The glamour of the day cast a pall over Rita's mood. Normally, she would delight in the flittings and trickery of the Rhaine, the glitz and glimmer of the fae's fashion and the
goblins' treasures. Yet today, her countenance soured. The wind's voice singing through the branches of the trees and even the soft chiming of the flowers as they bloomed grated on her mind. She
turned towards the pub.

The heavy doors creaked as she pushed them open. The smell of wood, heavy and thick with the waft of ale as the dust settled softly through the small slivers of light
filtering through into the dimness of the tavern soothed her frayed nerves. She sighed heavily, relieved at least to be out of the sun where her dark mood could wallow without
disturbing the others' obvious joy.

A kobold ale, plz.

The cheeky bartender studied her.

You're not in your usual mood.

No.

She fell silent. The bartender waited, polishing a glass.

I received a message.

The kobold watched the expressions flit across her face.

I don't know what I want to do.

The bartender smiled. As many people came to the pub to drink and be merry equally many came to escape and to think, seeking clarity that once in a yellow moon came in the most
unlikely of places.

Well, then one ale coming up.


Well, then one ale coming up.

As Rita sipped, an old wizard - millenia, maybe - managed his way, huffing and puffing, into the chair two seats over. He downed his glowing green absinthe in a
gulp and grinned at his neighbor.

That's the stuff! Keeps you young.

He took note of her face. She had managed to smile and laugh, but her charade had apparently not convinced the old wizard.

You're too young to be downcast. Would you like an absinthe?

This time her laugh was genuine.

No, thank you. Maybe a mandrake potion would do it. I'm afraid I'd need something even stronger than absinthe today.

The old wizard shuffled into the seat next to her.

An ale this time, please. Better for conversation.

Rita wasn't in the mood for conversation. But perhaps the chatter would do her good. Take her mind off the task that in attempting to solve had become a riddler-style
merry-go-round of indecision, at least.

The old wizard taste-tested his ale.

Not a bad year, eh?

The kobold grinned.

One of our best!

The old wizard chuckled.

Indeed...and I would know! Hehehe....

Rita sat quietly, ale in both hands in front of her, watching the old man's antics. She smiled slighty - was it the age of the wizard that he had realized it all
not mattered and he had released himself into the winsome hands of endless glee? Or did he possess enough wisdom to have made peace with all his life? Or were the two part of
each other? Either way, she envied him.

He turned his beady twinkling eyes back to her.

The last time I saw a face like that was the war.


The last time I saw a face like that was the war.

She sat up.

What war?

Oh, you know, any war. There have been so many - but no good ever comes of it. What there is to remember, my dear, is that no war lasts forever - and there will always be
another side, another day. Even if its another time, another dimension - it was pass, as it will always come again. The difference lies only in the decisions you make. Those
will stay with you.

She stared. Did he know she was in the midst of a choice?

She took a long drag of her ale. What did it matter anyway, it only made the decision seem more insurmountable. So much for advice.

Yes. How many wars have you seen? You've managed to keep such a spirit.

The old wizard downed the rest of his ale with a gulp.

Too many! People always mess things up. Have to meddle. BUT! It doesn't really matter anyway. The worst that you can do is mess it up yourself. There was a village on the edge
of Yehrel that made that fatal mistake centuries ago. It hasn't been forgotten - a lesson that's actually taught now in the wizard school.

He tapped his head knowingly and winked.

History!

Yehrel??

The old man paused.

Yes, it was destroyed.

I know.

Silence as she stared at his face.

I know because it was mine.

He cast his eyes down.

I'm sorry, young one. Though it happens, it is a shame.

It's not much of one.

His eyes darted up and she instantly felt regret. Her inside voice, or her anger - whichever it was, got out sometimes.

I didn't have good memories there. For some, it is.


I didn't have good memories there. For some, it is.

She sipped and studied her glass.

They weren't all bad. I'd be remiss though if I told you there wasn't much that the world isn't worse without.

He watched her.

What happened?

His eyes flickered sideways to Rita's familiar.

Your cat.

Rita waited. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She wasn't sure what they old man was playing at but was sure he would soon explain.

I'm guessing your cat makes mirrors. Since you're the only one I've seen from Yehrel, and that's how the story goes.

Rita waited.

They discovered your cat's mirror spell, or rather stumbled upon it. But rather than use it to access intution, they ued it for deflection. They launched a mirror attack,
creating shards that obfuscated and confused their enemy. Perhaps a brilliant plan, except it worked too well. When your people thought they were attacking the enemy, they
were really attacking themselves. In the end, whoever their enemy was didn't even have to lift a finger. They destroyed themselves.

Rita sat.

Its common knowledge here. Im sorry for your loss.

Rita sat. It was too predictable, too trite. Whatever potential there could have been was wiped out by the incessent yet ironic obsession with image.

She returned to her ale.

They destroyed themselves long ago. Their lies prevented the very thing that could have saved them.

The old wizard studied her as she finished her ale and gazed briefly into the empty glass on the table.

It is a shame.


It is a shame.

She touched her wand to her glass to pay her tab, transferring aether directly into the tip jar and stood to leave, nodding her head in deference to the old wizard, his
wisdom, and the time he must have spent from his millenia to speak to a witch who seemed in need of a friend.

Thank you for talking with me.


Sorcerer Remus of the Marsh

# Frog Lord

In a world full of frogs, one sorcerer rose from the ashes of the Marsh destined to become the Frog Lord. *Ribbit* were the words of the wisps around the Marsh, this was comforting for the Lord. The words of his people echo throughout the murky swamp, he will be King soon...


Runecaster Tundror of the Plains

# Runecaster Tundror of the Plains
With his companion the lazy ladybug Tundror has never known a hard time. The luck of lazy has always granted Tundror with a good time. They say he's chalice is always full and always in one hand. Singing and drinking is what he does best but also enjoys his quiet time.


Battle Mage Magnus of the Wood

# The Lore of Battle Mage Magnus of the Wood

Magnus is a true Brown Hatter, preferring the serenity of The Fey and The Thorn to the bustle and din of keeps and citadels. A Battle Mage, yes, and a powerful one, skilled in the Warrior Magicks of the Rune of Mars, but those days are consigned to his past mostly.

Magnus leads a simple life, bound to the natural world, living from the bounty of The Wild and protecting it from the encroachment of a more civilized world.

He roams these woods with his trusted companion and familiar, Barley, with whom hes forged an unbreakable bond through adventure, triumph, loss and now the promise of a peaceful existence. He works the land, growing, foraging and concocting more than enough to live without want, and occasionally venturing out to the local markets and bazaars.

There, Magnus moves among the townsfolk freely, unburdened from his past. He is recognized by many, not as Battle Mage Magnus, sometime hero and onetime scoundrel, but merely as Magnus of The Wood, an ordinary wizard who plies his goods with honesty and integrity.

And, oh, his goods! Above all else, Magnus is known for his ales. From Goblin Town to Calistas Citadel to Blue Wizard Bastion, a pint of Magnus Ale of the Wood is a treasured elixir at publick houses and great halls far and wide.

Its his tribute to The Wild, crafted with utmost respect for the land it springs from, shifting with the seasons, imbued with plantkind magic known only to few, a pure expression of a wizards connection to nature.


Having traded fields of battle for fields of barley, Magnus does not often call upon his more potent abilities. But a sense of unease has gripped of The Wild, a feeling in the souls of each living thing, a feeling that Something is Coming. Something that threatens their very existence.

And so, in the unlikely event that Magnus were to invite you into the modest brewhouse where he crafts his ales, you might see there, tucked beneath an enormous copper kettle, keeping its ambrosial contents at a tempestuous boil a Sacred Flame.

Unknown to any but himself and his faithful Barley, Battle Mage Magnus of the Wood is preparing. Preparing for What Comes. Preparing to defend these lands by any means. Preparing to burn in the Sacred Flame to emerge a Forgotten Soul.

Preparing to pierce the Infinity Veil.


Hedge Wizard Dante of Xanadu

We haven't yet written the rest of Dante's story, but he and Nelson definitely did get to grow up.


Holy Monk Aldo of the Hall

If you truly desire something, then you
shall have it-- or so, is what Holy
Monk Aldo of the Hall believed.
Desperate for power, Holy Monk Aldo was
ready to take any means necessary to
harness and control the magical life
force energy within himself which other
holy monks referred to as Qi. Using this
element of Qi, Holy Monk Aldo hoped to
channel an uncanny strength of energy
that he could use towards his own
enlightenment, releasing him from the
material barriers of the halls.

However, he soon discovered that the
monastic energy within him in which he
thrived had reached a threshold,
limiting him from breaking free.
Refusing to accept defeat, Holy Monk
Aldo turned towards other darker means
to fulfil his wishes. On a frantic
quest, he sought out knowledge from
darker souls, nobles, and unholy tyrants
on how to obtain more Qi.

From a descended monk, he learns that
power can be channeled not only from
oneself, but also from that of other
magical beings. The descended monk warns
him however, of how this dark art would
declare Aldo an outcast amongst the
other monks. Despite the foreboding
message, Aldo learned the dark spell
that would allow him to steal the Qi
essence from other monks and use it for
himself.

With a sinister grin, Holy Monk Aldo
crafted a vial where he would collect
other monks Qi, and later infuse the
energy into himself-- hoping that one
day he will collect enough to break free
of his invisible shackles and go beyond
the halls.


Augurer Borak of the Crag

# Augurer Borak of the Crag

The Borak clan was known far and wide for their gift of foresight. Not that they had the natural capabilities, but the crystal balls they possessed had been handed down for generations. The crystal orbs followed the bloodlines for generations. Only Borak blood
may activate its hidden magic.

One unsuspecting day, a group of assassins killed the clan with haste. One blink, and they were gone. Except one. A little boy, laid under a bed - unseen with his grandfathers orb clutched tightly to his chest. Augurer Borak remained quiet and unfound, being the sole survivor of his once cherished clan.

Its well known the clan was targeted for the great power they possessed, and this bounty
has followed Augurer for all fifty-seven years he has roamed the lonely roads. Augurer resides in the Crag, deep into the face of a mountain. His hideaway protects him from any potential lurkers that may have a bounty for him. A bounty on his head surely wouldnt be shocking though, hes one of the most sought after commodities in these parts.

All you must do for him, in order for him to help you with his crystal sight, is survive the treacherous path. It was intentional really - rarely anyone survives.

His lonely life is eased with the presence of his rat companion; the small creature simply resides in his pocket


Enchanter Titania of the Hills

# Titania: Enchanter of the Hills

Born 5900 years ago, in the heart of the hills, birthed from the womb of an oak tree, a tale so old no one even remembers the root, Titania has roamed the hills for hundreds of years - foraging and protecting the land as well as spirits and creatures in need.

Blessed with Mother Natures Gift of Enchantment, she can do anything she puts her mind to - levitate this, morph that, teleport here, there, anywhere. As she grew, she was given a gift she knows no other enchanter could match and that enchanted stick which she proudly wields only works to strengthen and grow her divine power.

She is most widely known for her Rune of Defense, an upside down triangle with a horizontal line through the center. Her rune offers the best protection magic to ever exist in the hills.

Titania's familiar, wagmisan the frog, roams the hills alongside her. But when the rains come, Titania must reside in her hut. The rains are her time of rest. While she dwells in her small hut, wagmisan cares for the land in her absence.

Titania continues to age - healing the land with all her might.