As Rita wandered through the streets, she started to plot, and quickly came to terms with the fact that this would be her new lair! No one had walked these streets in thousands of years, shed be safe from prying eyes forever!
Though the city sprawled on and on for what seemed like forever, Rita knew exactly where she had to go. The highest point! Old stories always suggested thats where the leaders reigned, so her eyes shot to the skyline.

Immediately she saw a beautiful ivory tower jutting up much higher than the rest of the skyscrapers around it. It was big, but looked to be mostly a symbolic building. When she finally got to the base, there was only a single entrance in.

The door was huge, made of glass, and led into a small boxy room. There was a panel of buttons to the right side of the door that consisted of a green, red and blue button.

While the building itself hadnt seen power in a millenia, Rita was more than capable of summoning a bit of electricity! With a quick flick of the wrist, the entire building lit up, and the room she was in went flying upwards.

This took Rita by surprise and threw her to the ground, only to have the room stop suddenly. The door swung open with a beep, and the hag was no longer on the ground floor.

She stood up, dusted herself off and headed into the new room that lay before her. She had been delivered to the center of the room, and the outer wall was but a large, circular window, providing an unobstructed view of damn near the entire city!

This would make an excellent base of operations for the young witch indeed! She hurriedly scoured the room, looking for remnant tech, and then quickly cast a small summoning spell.


Hedge Wizard Rita of the Field

With a loud clap, all of her belongings appeared in the room, and within a few minutes, Rita had already arranged the room to her liking.

Yes, things would indeed be good for Rita hereor, at least, she thought

Somewhere on the other side of the Runiverse, Battle Mage Malthus of the Capital was using a little bit of his own illegal scrying magic to keep a very close eye on Rita.

She was of great importance to him, and was one of a thousand hand picked by Malthus to come live with him in his city of greatness.

The big issue here wasMalthus didnt have a city yet. If he had nowhere to collect these wizards, surely his dream of power would flicker and die.

However, Rita stumbling into these old ruins gave him a brilliant idea. With the help of Rita, he would turn this city into his magnum opus, his great legacy!

He had been waiting for the right moment to approach Rita, and now was the time! He would hurriedly disappear into the night, traveling through darkness to reach the unknown part of the world where Rita had surfaced.

His approach was direct and candid. He told Rita that he needed her, and that she needed him. And of course, for Rita, the promise of power was all it ever took to get her on your good side.

So the two would combine forces and revive this ancient city back to its prime, and in doing so, show the world exactly who they were.


Void Disciple Aamon of the Quantum Downs

Ugh, Aamon! Do you ever get anything right? The lady of the house whined, quite dramatically, as Aamon had brought her the wrong drink. She wantedno, needed the crystal mug, not the glass one.

Yes milady. His deep voice, short and emotionless, as he bowed quickly and took away the mug which he had tried to hand her just moments before.

And though his stoic face showed no signs of emotion, in his head, he was raging up quite the storm.

This DUCK thinks she can tell me what to do. Ugh I knew taking this job was a mistake. There must be another- Aamons thoughts came to a screeching halt as he almost got bulldozed over by some stranger high-tailing it past him.

He dusted himself off, and called after the stranger, You cant go back there. No. Stop. Dont. Shrugging, he went back to fixing the drink and complaining in his head.

As he turned around to join his employer and the stranger who strayed too far, he heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the room. In another instant, the same stranger ran back towards him, this time stopping briefly to shove something into Aamons hands, before sprinting away again.

What the hell Aamon wondered outloud, as he realized the thing the stranger had given him was indeed the weapon used to murder the countess just now.

STOP MURDERER! Moments later, loud words bellowed throughout the hall where Aamon had been collecting his thoughts.


Wait, no. This isnt mineI didntshit. Ugh whatever. Aamon dropped the dagger onto the ground, realizing he wasnt going to be able to talk his way out of this. Instead, he would do what he was quite talented at. Disappearing. (Aamon was nothing if not a very talented illusionist and void caster.)

Before the dagger had finished clattering to the floor below, Aamons quiet magic had done its part, and he was already many miles away, leaving the guards completely baffled (and becoming one of Red Wizard Citys most wanted criminals in the blink of an eye).

With a loud clap, Aamon appeared, very suddenly, in an empty, poorly lit cave. Ahh, the Cave of Platonic Shadow. Ill definitely be safe here, even if my plans did just get a bit accelerated. He said, musingly, moving about the cave with specific intention.

Aamon had set up shop here many years ago, as it was just a stones throw from the Quantum Shadow, the source of his dark and shady magics. It also just happened to be the place he came from, but Aamon never did quite care to go into detail regarding that.

It wouldnt take Aamon long at all to restore his old lab back to functioning status, though it had been hidden away here for years. It had all been hidden, waiting for the perfect time

A time that wouldnt come thanks to whatever bumbling stranger just offed the countess! He needed her!! Without her, hed never be able to figure out who had sent him that blasted letter.

A letter he received just 6 weeks ago. A letter that would change his entire life, and maybe not for the best.


It had been addressed directly to him, even though he had been living in solitude, unknown to anyone, in the Cave of Platonic shadow. His small home had been heavily enchanted to remain hidden, so the fact that this had been seen through suggests the sender to be a being of great power.

The entire thing had been written in blood, in a language only those from the Quantum Shadow would be able to read. It had been short and to the point, and simply told him he would be given a safe place to practice his void magic, in exchange for living in some city.

There were some vague instructions on how to find the city, but Aamon had no intent on following these instructions. He only had one goal, and that was to find out who could have possibly known about him.

Shortly after receiving the letter, Aamon had become set on discovering the identity of the sender and set to work discovering all he could.

Within a brief period, he had been able to identify the parchment the note had been written on as a specific type of parchment made of a very particular royal family in the Red Wizard City.

From there, it was just a matter of persuasion (and maybe just a tiny illusion) before Aamon found himself head butler of the Countess home.

In the few weeks he spent on the premises, he learned much about the royal family, but almost none of it led him to his mysterious admirer.

There was one thingbut what could it mean? One afternoon, just a couple of days before the countess found herself murdered, Aamon had a very strong vision of a hag receiving a letter requesting her presence.

It recurred numerous times during that one day, and then suddenly stopped, but not before the image burned into his head. The note the unknown hag had received had been written by the same shadowy figure, but had a much different feel than the one he received.


Unable to put any rhyme or reason to these visions, Aamon moved on, but figured at this point he had too much to lose by not pursuing whatever angle he could. The trail would grow even colder from here and he was getting desperate.

With only this image of a hag wearing a parka, Aamon cursed himself, and disappeared in a poof of smoke, his shadow heading towards to cold northern tundra (home to the penguins and of course, wielders of the frozen tuna).

His journey would not take long at all, though once he arrived in the cold north he realized he quite underpacked. Nothing magic couldnt take care of, but still, he was not prepared for how cold it would be!

It only took a bit of asking around the local villages to discover that there was a local hag named Lamia who had taken it upon herself to dole out blessings to any who would approach her.

The locals were very defensive of their winter witch, so details were hard to get at first, but before long, Aamon caught wind of a small group of pilgrims who were headed her way for their annual blessings.

Once the pilgrimage arrived in town, he simply worked his magic to blend in, and had them lead him directly to the hag. Curiosity kept him in check, though after the pilgrims had finished with their blessings and dispersed, Aamon hung around the shadows to keep tabs on his new friend.

He would spend the next two days on the verge of hypothermia, hoping for some kind of clue that this was indeed the hag his visions were of. On the eve of the second night, however, his patience finally paid off.

The hag stepped outside her hut, flicked her wrist, and the little rat she kept with her lit up and took off. Without a second of hesitation, the hag followed the trail the rat left.


Ohhhh, I bet shes going to see him Aamon muttered, as he trailed the hag as close as he dare. She had turned to look behind her a few times, but of course she saw nothing but darkness.

Aamon would finally be able to figure out who the hell found him in the middle of nowhere, and he would have his chance at this power too!


Ferocina Ravager of the Mountain

Ferocine was the mightiest fist in all the northern Runiverse (or at least, so shed claim). Her punch could explode a tree (also a claim), stun an ogre (not proven) and open a jar of pickles (this, oddly enough, is something she can actually do).

Now, this wasnt to say Ferocina wasnt a bad ass in her own right! She was incredibly powerful, but she just loved to boast about it to anyone who would listen (and if they didnt listen, shed ramble on anyway).

She was a bit nomadic, wandering too and fro, mostly just looking to punch things and help people who needed it. She was not very interested in the mercenary lifestyle, so she often found herself doing very mundane tasks to earn a wage.

Her most recent gig was a log splitter for a small town outside the Quantum Shadow, where she also moonlit as a bit of a bodyguard to folks traveling about.

This was a pretty solid gig, and the town treated her really well. She had given up on wandering around and had really considered settling down here, maybe even progressing the relationship with her girlfriend!

Sadly, our hero would be unable to live out these dreams. She would be gone from town one night, escorting a single wizard back to the edge of the Fey, where he would have a modicum of safety.

This journey would take half a day, so by the time she returned to her village, the entire thing had been razed to the ground. She couldnt believe her eyes.

Before her, everything she held near and dear to her had instantly vanished, in a painful ending. Something in that moment awoke within Ferocina, and she was suddenly taken over by an angry blood rage.


She scoured the remains of the city, looking for any survivors, but only found a few raiders who had stayed behind to sift through the rubble.

These scrappy bandits did not last long against the punching paladin, who did in fact explode the bandits head with a single punch. Every one she found, bam, one punch and splat.

She was, to put it lightly, angry. She had come from a long line of berserker mages, though had no magic of her own. Clearly the berserker blood still ran strong.

With each punch, she managed to find clarity in the rage, and soon learned to control it (all the while taking out the last of the bandits that hung around).

After spending a day collecting herself and saying goodbye, she followed the raiders trail, west towards Kelpies Bay, in hopes to catch up with, and eradicate, the miserable wretches that stole a chance of happiness from her.

The next several months flew by for Ferocina as she scoured the Runiverse for any sight of the bandits that ruined her life. Eventually, shed come across a man named Manuel, who was also looking to put an end to these bandits.

The two would become fast friends, and Manuel would eventually share that he too was once part of the raiders, but couldnt bring himself to take their lives. Hed also go on to invite her to his guild of adventures dedicated to bringing down this band of evil, on the caveat that shed never take another life.

The thought of not getting her vengeance did not sit well at first, but eventually shed come to, and take this vow very seriously, training in non-lethal combat to the best of her ability.


Her and Manuel became de facto leaders of the guild of martial artists, and would spend their spare time defending small towns from raiding parties. This would make them quite welcome anywhere in the countryside, which would play a huge part in discovering the truth behind Rachel, her bandits, and the shadowy benefactor!


Ryland Ruin of the Back Alley

Long ago, it was prophesied that 12 wizards would be born to the Runiverse, their souls pure light. These Lightborn would band together, and return the Beasts back to their prison, and bring peace to the Runiverse once more.

Ryland was most assuredly not one of these lightborn. Not only was he not a wizard, but he was also not very nice.

He was, however, the last of the descendants of the blood of Hercules, and as such, he was quite strong. Not very smart, but incredibly strong, and very happy to sell his strength to the highest bidder (or in fact, anyone bidding anything at all).

He recently signed on to a small raiding party led by the wielder of the 24-Karat Crowbar, a bandit leader by the name of Rachel. The artifact imbued her with great power, and she led Ryland and her bandits on many successful raids, often without losing a single raider.

Though Rachel led the band, her orders came down from a shadowy figure. He had never seen the two communicate, but anytime someone brought it up, Rachel killed them. Ryland learned early on not to even concern himself with such things.

He was quite content literally punching people to death. He punched,and Rachel made sure the rest was taken care of.

And though his adventures with the raiding party would take him all over the runiverse, from the big wizard cities to the forgotten ruins of Atlantis, Ryland really didnt change much.

From day one, punch punch punch. This little fact made him quite popular among the other raiders, who were known to pay Ryland to punch random things.

One time, someone dared him to punch a sleeping dragon, not expecting him to do it all. That would be the last time anyone would think he was capable of sarcasm.


He would go on to punch this dragon so hard, its head exploded. It was a right mess, blood, brains and bone bits went flying, and some even got in his mouth. Ew.

This little stunt would earn him the nickname Dragonpuncher and the respect from the entire crew. Even Rachel had to admit she was quite impressed with the gore from the impact of the mighty punch.

Now, some would think Ryland wasnt doing anything special or important (maybe quite the opposite) but he was an instrumental part of a much bigger plan that was going on behind the curtains.

Rachels shadowy benefactor would send them on raids that often made little sense. Seemingly targeting innocuous relics, the team had actually been curating some of the realms most outlawed artifacts.

And in many of these cases, the blood of the ancient heroes who had locked away these artifacts were needed to set them free.

One such case was the Helm of Hades, which grants the wearer control of the dead, locked away by Hercules long before the Runiverse would be formed.

The purpose of the helm would go unknown to our beastly basher, but to the benefactor mentioned earlier, it would be the key to bringing a dead city back to life.

Rylans blood released ancient seals that not only loosened the crown free, but also gave Rachel and her benefactor access to the river Styx, allowing them travel to the underworld. This would come into play later on down the road, and Ryland would forget about the whole thing pretty quickly.

Hed go on to successfully lead the raiding party in Rachels occasional absence, and eventually helped accrue a level of wealth usually only seen by the nobles in the wizard capitals.

Eventually, the time would come where Rachel and her shadowy benefactor would retreat within the walls of this fabled city.


Though most of the other raiders had been killed in their sleep, Rachel spared Ryland, for he had kind of grown on her during their raids.

He would go on to serve as a personal bodyguard to Rachel within the walls of this new city, and would live a happy, but somewhat boring life (until he got the gumption to try and steal the 24-Karat Crowbarbut thats a different tale for a different time!).


Rachel Belligerent of the Jungle

Finally!! After all of this time, Rachel would finally have the prize she sought for so many years.

The mythical, the legendary, 24-karat crowbar. A solid gold crowbar forged with the heat of the Sacred Flame and a golden lock from the Gate to the 7th realm.

A true treasure fit only for a warrior like Rachel.

She had spent over 20 years searching the runiverse for this weapon. Ruins, caves, wizards towers, you name it, she raided it.

She even delved into the actual Quantum Shadow! Though thats a different story for a different time, lets just say she barely survived that adventure.

Now, here it sat, forgotten on the ground, still grasped by its previous owners corpse. Clearly, the crowbar hadnt been strong enough to fend off whatever end the bones on the ground had met, but that didnt seem to bother Rachel one bit.

She wiped her hands off on her cloak before gingerly picking up the crowbar and admiring it in all of its gilded glory.

As she lifted the crowbar from its resting place, an intense power surged through her body. She suddenly felt stronger, smarter, quicker!

She gave the crowbar a few deft swings, and realized that this had been the moment she was made for. This was her gold-plated destiny! She just had to make it back through all that nonsense first.

See, Rachel didnt just find the crowbar hanging out in a pawn shop. No, this sucker was buried deep in the caves of Honor Mountain. She had spent hours spelunking, following ancient maps and suggestions from the locals.


She had no idea what she was getting herself into, however, as these caves were ancient bloodworm tunnels. Very large, very hungry titanic creatures of yesteryear. The cave system was massive, and there was a great chance that she would not be coming back from this adventure.

Rachel really wasnt one to give up that easily, especially when she had her heart set on something. She grew up with her grandfather telling tales of the crowbar, and had wanted nothing more than to have her own adventures with it.

She would get really lucky, about half a mile below the surface, where she would stumble into the abandoned den of these forgotten creatures.

Though it had been well over a dozen millenia since the bloodworms roamed the Runiverse, their presence had been imprinted for eternity. The massive nest was entirely empty, except for the remains of a small battle.

All of the bodies looked humanoid, and all were just bones at this point. It must have been over a hundred years since the last one stopped breathing.

At the center of the aged carnage, was a single skeleton. The mighty bandit king who had found the crowbar in old war ruins. Whatever he did in his last moments took out every living thing, about 7 other bodies.

Rachel took no time securing the crowbar, testing it, and then realizing she had no clue how to get out.
Oh Dotta, it is cursed Rachel swore under her breath.

Rumor and conjecture always painted this particular relic to be one tainted with great evil. Our bold adventurer didnt care too much about that until now.

What the hell am I gonna do? She asked no one in particular, paying little heed to the humming crowbar in her hand. (Stress makes you do silly things.)


As she began pacing nervously around the cavern, the crowbar (which had been enchanted by the highest power) flashed a bright blue, then *POP* the two disappeared in a brilliant dazzle of lights.

Rachel came crashing down from nowhere into the rubble-strewn streets. It took a good 5 minutes for her to come to her senses. Eventually, her eyes popped open and she scrambled to her feet, still clutching her coveted treasure.

A quick look around showed that she indeed was far from Mount Hope, in some strange old world ruins. Towering buildings made of steel and glass stretched along the horizon as far as she could see.

It looked as if no one had stepped foot into this place in well over a thousand years, except for the fact that there was a single light on, atop the tallest building.

Rachel, overcome with a sudden curiosity, she dusted herself off and headed towards the tower, unaware of how drastic her life was about to change


Manuel Contender of Wizards

Ah, Manuel. What a bold and brave fighter!  Once upon a time, he raided with a mighty band of warriors, lead by none other than Rachel the Belligerent, wielder of the golden crowbar.

However, he was never one to take a life, he preferred stunning and incapacitating. This would grow to eat at Manuel after many raids, and decided he would take off into the night.

The abandoned raiders didnt take too kindly to this, as Manuel was extremely important to their plans . You see, he had the blood of an ancient champion, Achilles, and this little fact was the only reason the raiding crew had even let him in in the first place.

The raiders stayed on his tail for almost 6 months, giving him very little room to breathe, but eventually, they either found a better answer or grew tired of the search, and gave up.

Once he could finally breathe safe again, Manuel started on his own path of retribution. He would do everything he could to dismantle this operation and everything it stood for (though if were being candid, he wasnt really too sure what was going on).

He would spend the next few years sharpening his jiu-jitsu skills, and renewed his vow to never take a life again. He would then start putting together his own band, not of raiders, but of skilled agents to gather information and to bring down Rachel and whatever shadowy benefactor was funding their raids!

As he collected heroes from all over, he started to see that he really might actually make a difference. The information collected quickly revealed that someone besides Rachel was pulling the strings but whoever this person was, they made damn sure to cover their tracks.


One particular lead got them close, and had lead them to Red Wizard Capital, where a Countess with very important political ties had been murdered. Her murderer was caught with her blood and the murder weapon, but disappeared in an instant, leaving speculators to believe a wizard was behind it.

The challenge now was to locate and identify the head of this organization. Even though he had contacts within the raiding band occasionally, they would often get found out and gutted.

After losing 3 of his best men, he relied on external sources for info, but this drastically reduced his ability to track their ongoings.

He would go on to categorize all of the artifacts being collected, as well as the places theyd attack from in hopes to spot some type of pattern.

While there wasnt too much he could deduce, he did quickly see that artifacts of great and controversial power were being stolen, and that could only lead to doom and suffering.

He was also very unsuccessful in countering the raids, and often would show up after it was too late. He and his team would gain some notoriety though, as he would stay back and help the wounded, and would often help repair the villages.

Manuel now waits for his enemy to reveal himself so that he can begin his true mission. Saving the world from whatever nonsense these wizards keep getting the Runiverse into!


Alchemist Aldus of the Realm

he's a funky wizzy


# Hedge Wizard Solomon of the Quantum Downs

## Preface

---

When you flip a coin, as you watch it tumble through the air, you may think its fate, perhaps some uneven weight that determines which side lands face up. But in truth its Hedge Wizard Solomon.

The Hedge Wizard, invisible, appears whenever an element of chance is involved.
When dice are thrown, or a card is flipped over, its Hedge Wizard Solomons hand that controls the result. Whenever a gambler prays to the dealer or calls for a certain color to prevail, its Solomon theyre talking to. And with no prejudice, nor interest in the result, Solomon flips the cards, almost bored.

It isnt easy to be alongside every degenerate at once.
Solomons long, white beard hides countless stories of people on the ropes. Those stuck at the fork between their vanishing dreams and harsh reality, hoping someone can save them without knowing that someone is Solomon.

---

It isnt obvious if Solomons power was learned or ascribed at birth.
Some believe Solomon is thousands of years old, but others know the truth.
Solomon was a scholar, interested in studying magic of all sorts.

He studied for several decades, into his old age, never taking a wife, never wanting children.  It was deep in his studies that Solomon found a way to sidestep into the other plane, getting incredibly lucky with his choice of texts. It wasnt until Solomon discovered he had no way back, cursed now with some permanent other-ness, that he learned his new place in eternity.

> Sufficiently practiced arcane magic is indecipherable from the cosmos.
> *- Proverb from ancient storyteller*

---


---

Luck and chance are fickle, by human standards. Elements of mysticism swirling around in the ether.
It makes sense theyre controlled, like so many other forces, beyond whats seen.

So how does one control the controller?
Adventurers wonder about the best way to deal with the Hedge Wizard, to not end up on his bad side.   Solomon respects risk-takers. People who walk blindly toward randomness. Those with absolute faith in themselves or elsewhere are impossible not to respect in some way.

When interacting with Solomon directly, one should be straightforward.
Do not engage in any bartering, risk-taking, or gambles of any form. Furthermore, do not try to deceive him, or act underhandedly. Youll only worsen your odds, which are already bad enough.

And, whatever you do, dont call his familiar a chicken.


Druid Ixar of the Tower

## Towering Fury

As he looked on from the highest tower, Ixar pondered: Would his feather carry him if he explored?

It was stained crimson from his previous attempts, but he knew failure was not an option.  As he gathered courage to fly again, he conjured the magical words: "CA CAWWW MOFO"

To the clouds he soared.


Grave Robbing Kobold Pix of Phantasmagoria

welcome to the Phantasmagoria


Charmer Beyna of the Veil

# New Lore Entry

_Delete below sample to write your own_

beyna is sleepless at night. He went for a walk in the forest with his owl. He was seen feeding on unicorn blood with a witch.

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

> Here is quoted text
> *beyna is sleepless at night. He went for a walk in the forest with his owl. He was seen feeding on unicorn blood with a witch.*

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

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

### Image uploads

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

### External Image Links

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

### Embedded videos

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

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

# Getting new lines right

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

**First**

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

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

**Second**

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

# Tagging other characters

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


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


Athina Sword of Light

Athina woke with a start, as the clashing sounds from outside her room had grown increasingly loud. It took her a moment to gather her wits, and by the time she shook the sleep from her eyes, she realized things might be a bit more precarious than she first thought.

She quietly moved about her room, gathering what she'd need to make a quick getaway. Being a princess, her room really didn't have much of anything that would be of use, but she was clever enough.

As she was stuffing this and that into her small pouch, the thick oak door came flying off the hinges, much to Athina's surprise! Standing on the other end was a small band of heavily armed Goblins, who took no time to pour into the room, and capture the princess.

They quickly tied her up and bonked her over the head with one of their maces, causing her to collapse and lose consciousness. The last thing she saw was the big club coming down then...nothing.

Hours later, the young princess awoke, head throbbing. She had been untied and tossed into the dungeon of her own castle! The audacity!! Though Athina wasn't one much to wallow in despair, she had to admit this was the biggest pickle she'd been in...well ever.

The cell was small, smaller than most, and had no window to the outside. Just 4 walls of stone, and a trapdoor far above her head.

"What the heck!!" Athina yelled, her voice echoing in the small chamber, leaving her even more frustrated than before.

There wasn't enough room to really pace, and the walls were too far from each other to shimmy up. There really was no way of getting out of this hole!

After a few minutes of complete and utter silence, a kind, soft voice filled Athina's mind.


"You must get out." The voice said, light and whispery. Athina herself was a bit psychic thanks to her royal blood, and wasn't so much startled by the voice in her head as she was by the likeness of the voice to her mother, who had passed some time ago.

"Moth...Mother?? Is that you?!" Tears began to well up, as the princess' emotions finally started to pour out.

"You must get out, Athina." The voice repeated, this time more sternly.

"But how?!?! Mom!! I don't know, I'm no wizard!! How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?!" Athina sobbed, as she spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but only saw stone walls. "I don't understand, please...please help me..." She managed to squeak out before the sobs fully took over.

She had never felt so confused, so trapped, so lost...and who was speaking to her? Could it really be her mother, saving her from the afterlife? It was just too much for her to handle, and she broke down in sobs, curled up on the floor.

Just as she began to feel there was no hope, a dazzling white light erupted from her, bathing the entire cell.

"It is time, my sweet..." The voice faded as the light intensified. And as quickly as it started, it ended, with a quiet little poof. The cell where Athina had just been was now empty and quiet.

However, somewhere just outside the castle walls, things weren't as calm. In a sudden, and very loud *crack* Athina appeared a few feet in the air, outside the castle walls. Right above her mother's grave.


As gravity is still very active in the Runiverse, Athina came crashing down just moments later, missing her mother's headstone with her own head by mere centimeters!

"OUCH! What the hec-" Athina exclaimed, but was cut off by the voice in her head.

"My dear, sweet child. It is time for you to realize your true power and destiny." The voice, though barely a whisper, filled her ears.

"Mom?? What do you mean? What's going on!!!" Athina croaked, still somewhat shaken by the recent turn of events.

"I do not have long to speak, but you must go. Far from here, to the Fey. You, chosen one, are born of light, must find the others. You, the Sword of Light, will help bring peace to this land." The mysterious yet familiar voice began to fade.

"Chosen one?? Born of light??? Mom, I'm so confused!" Athina was beginning to get frustrated, as she had barely had any time to process the evening's events. Everything was just moving so fast!!

"I must leave you now, sweet Athina. Know that my love is with you every step of the way, and I will be in your dreams. Only you can save us know, Lightborn..." And with that, the voice faded, leaving Athina more lonely than she had felt in the dungeon.

With no supplies and only the clothes on her back, Athina heads towards the village, leaving the castle far behind. Even as she made it to the outskirts of the small town, she could still hear the chaos ringing through the halls of the castle.

And so...this would be the start of an epic journey for Athina, Sword of Light. Will she ever figure out what her destiny is? Will she meet the other Lightborn? What is in store for our heroine next?


Stay tuned to find out in chapter 2!

*Lore commissioned by Hedge wizard Sturgis of the Reach #3226, written by the wonderful EmmaLeigh.ETH*


Jett Apocalypse of Kobolds

# The Enforcer

The door swung open from the force of being kicked in. A Kobold in pure panic ran into the house, frantically looking for a place to hide. In the corner of his eye, he spotted an open closet and jumped in, swiftly closing the door behind him.

This Kobold had been on the run for the last 2 days. Running across the countryside from village to village, begging the locals for protection. When none was offered, the Kobold would leave and be forced to look somewhere else.

Jett, the first lieutenant to Major Razer, and 2nd in command of The Burning Hand had been hot on his trail and had finally caught up.

Spotting the house, Jett entered through the door that had been kicked in moments before. He didn't know where exactly, but he knew the Kobold was there.

You thought you could run. You thought you could hide. He takes a breath and laughs under his breath. Both thoughts were foolish. We told you we would come. We told you we would find you.

You know, there exist two kinds of pain in the world. A good pain, and a useless pain

Jett, now creeping around the living room, is looking between the cracks in the walls and roof for any signs of where his prey is hiding.

The good pain is a motivator. It makes you stronger. The useless pain brings only suffering. I welcome the former, and have no patience for the latter.

The terrified Kobold in the closet shifts his weight, causing the floorboard to creak. This caught the attention of Jett and drew him towards it.


Destiny has called, and I have answered. To forge a legacy, we must be willing to sacrifice. The Burning Hand continues to grow, with our influence expanding beyond the coasts. What is being asked for is unpleasant, but I submit my will to it.

"The factions are failing. The faithful are scattered. Hunted daily. I wish I could tell you I don't enjoy this, but that would be a lie. You are predictable. And we are always ahead. Major Razer has laid the path before us, and we will follow.

Jett grabbed the closet door handle and ripped it open, the Kobold inside fell to the floor. He threw his arms up instinctively to shield himself from what may come.

And now, here you are. Cowering before me. Your story, coming to an end.

The Kobold looked up with fear and confusion in his eyes and mustered the courage for one word. Why?

Jett, sensing his position of complete control, couldn't help but smirk.

Feeling his impending doom, the Kobold blurted out. Who are you?!

Now staring with his deep soulless eyes, Jett responded

I, Am Apocalypse"


Alchemist Aldus of the Realm

there once was a wizard who died thinking he could fly jumping off a cliff.


Channel 1 Poltergeist Jeldor of the Bottomless Grave

Channel 3 gets better weather than Channel 1


Alchemist Hongo

## **Hongo has always been alone.**

When he was born, he was immediately isolated. Even doctors were afraid to come into contact with his poisonous skin. He was exiled to live in The Thorn, left to be raised by the other poisonous fungus. He tirelessly studied alchemy from a young age, fascinated by lead and its toxic qualities. His familiar, Bernard, is a poisonous toad.


# A Bastard Finds a Family

The lone bugbear wandered through those strange woods of The Fey for what felt like weeks.  Wounds infected, delirious from fever, he tripped and stumbled over roots and rocks until he fell for what he thought would be the last time.  The edges of his vision began to fade and darkness took him...

Suddenly he awoke with a gasp in a grove of perfectly manicured apple trees.  A pale man in green loomed over him, and stared at him until he felt crushed beneath the weight of the man's gaze.

*"Do you speak the common tongue, bugbear?"*

"Small amounts."

*"Do you have a name?"*

"I had not yet earned a name.  We only earn our names and standing within the tribe after our first successful...  What is this place?"

*"This place is my home. It's no small task that you ended up here, in the liminal space between here and there.  It doesn't reveal itself to those looking for it."*

"I was not looking for it"

*"Yet you found it anyway.  That means you needed it, and what I have to share."*

@wizard4789 offered the bugbear an apple, unlike anything he had ever seen.  It smelled like honey.

*"Please eat.  I tended to your wounds, but these apples I grow have restorative properties.  You should feel like yourself after eating one.  I can escort you to the edge of the wood once you have recovered."*

The apple was impossibly juicy, and with each bite he felt more like himself, perhaps even better than he knew he could feel.

"My tribe is gone, and I have no family to speak of.  I have nowhere to go."

*"Can you fight?"*


# Alchemist Hongo

_Neither plant nor animal, mushrooms have confounded humans since ancient times. Now, theyre a reminder of our tenuous place in an uncertain world._

To the ancient Egyptians, mushrooms were totems of immortality, reserved for the plates of pharaohs and their kin; to the Indigenous Mazatecs of southern Mexico, they are holy children, speaking through the mystics who eat them.

As emissaries from the underworld and creatures of the in-between, even ordinary, nonhallucinogenic mushrooms defy the binaries we often use to organize the universe.  They are unclassifiable as plants, despite their historic inclusion in the study of botany. Nor are they animals, although the fungi and animal kingdoms share a common ancestor dating back somewhere between 650 million and 1.5 billion years.

There is something uncanny, too, about the speed with which they appear. In the wild, mushrooms emerge practically overnight, en masse, a sudden army out of nothing. Such innocents they seem, so close to the ground, fit to shelter only ants and fairies. But they are neither tiny nor powerless.

How potent a metaphor for today, as the chasm between have and have-not widens, to see this army of the ignored and the disdained, massing underfoot. The American writer Sylvia Plath turned the supposed meekness of these nonbinary beings into an insidious strength in her 1959 poem Mushrooms, channeling the voice of the Nudgers and shovers/In spite of ourselves:

_Bland-mannered, asking_

_Little or nothing._

_So many of us!_

_So many of us!_


_So many of us!_

_So many of us!_

The sibilants in the repeated phrase, spoken aloud, are half whisper, half hiss. Its a moment of menace thats reprised at the poems end, in an allusion to the Sermon on the Mount: We shall by morning/Inherit the earth. Time for the overlords is running out.


Magus Daria of the Woodlands

Daria is a young girl who daydreams of being a wizard with magical powers. During about the first half of the book, she imagines using these powers to make the world a better place, and in particular to fight global warming. But when she snaps out of her daydreaming and remembers that she cant really do magic, she wonders whether there is anything she can do in real life to help save the world. The rest of the book shows her considering many potential careers, and becoming greatly inspired as she realizes that she can make a difference. As the book draws to a close, she walks past a mirror  and in the reflection, she sees that she has become a wizard after all.


Battle Mage Magnus of the River

*Dear diary... *


Charmer Devon of the Valley

# Devon of the Valley


Chiaki Cleaver of the Forest

There would be resolve in Chiaki's soul, not after her sister, Suzume, disappeared. Chiaki would go on to spend the entirety of her life in search for the one person who truly made her feel at peace.

The worst part? She was linked to her sister, as they were biological twins. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt, Suzume was out there somewhere, alive...without her.

This very turn of events, however, was seemingly the very thing Chiaki needed to focus her strength and willpower. As she trained, fought and searched for her missing sister, there was nothing too small for her not to learn.

Martial arts, sword play, fisticuffs, you name, Chiaki learned it. Thought it didn't hurt that she had the blood of the Oni coursing through her veins. Though she was unaware of this connection, it was quite crucial to the strength and dexterity in which she employed so effectively.

It would also go on to imbue her attacks with a powerful blood magic, allowing her to absorb the life of others and extending her own life artificially.

It was only a matter of years before Chiaki became a legendary terror, slaughtering all who dare stand in her way. She would find her sister, at all costs.

(This story is dedicated to my wife, who lost her seed phrase, abandoning Suzume to the wild Ether. RIP @warrior11399. You will be missed, and prolly forgotten)


Krafili Slayer of Bandits

PART 3

As Krafili is showing the kids how to properly parry a strike his trusted beetle Iris flies from her spot on the fireplace onto his shoulder.

"Grandpa, where did you get that gross bug?" One of the kids asked.

"Well she actually saved my life quite a bit." He replied.

A puzzled look washes over the children's faces and he begins to chuckle and walks to his chair.

"So anyone curious about my girl iris here?"

As he grabs her off his shoulder and places her in his beard.

 "Of course!" Exclaimed the children

The children gather around the chair again.

"I think it was more coincidence than anything but she does seem to be good luck" says his wife to the kids.

"So the first time I met her I was on my way to white wizard tower" He begins.

"There are alot of bandits on the road and I was lost so I wasn't paying much attention. When out of nowhere a beetle smacks me in the face"

*SMACK* iris flies out of his beard and flies into his head. The children and his wife begin to laugh.

"Yea.. just like that" he says while rubbing the side of his head and trying to swat her away.

"Anyway, this bug starts to fly around me and I try to swat it away then all of a sudden there's an arrow in my shield!"

Krafili grabs his shield next to his chair and shows the kids where there's a hole that was patched.

"If that arrow would have hit me I'd be done for. But for some reason I just happened to swipe at that bug at the perfect moment. I was confused so I pulled out my sword and began to look around, but this dang bug would not stop flying around so I take a swipe at it"


He throws his arm back like he was slapping a bug off his back.

"And lo and behold I hit a bandit that was trying to sneak up on me, I didn't even have time to check what I hit before this dang bug hit me again! I pull up my shield to swat it again and I'm met with a sword bouncing off my shield."

"Is this real grandma?" On of the little ones asked Krafilis wife

"I didn't belive it at first but I saw her help him with my own eyes when we first met, she actually helped him stop the tavern we had our first date at from burning down." She says.

Krafili sits up "Ah, yes I remember that day, I was drinking an ale and the damn"

"LANGUAGE" His wife interrupts

"Sorry" Krafili says sheepishly

"Oooohhhh grandpa got in trouble" the children mock

"That darn beetle kept flying around my hand while I was drinking. Well turns out the fella next to us got into it with a fire mage and didn't realize his cloak was still smoldering. Next thing you know I'm throwing my drink at his cloak trying to get Iris to leave us alone." Says Krafili.

"You should have seen the look on his face before he realized his cloak was ablaze. I thought your grandpa was going to have to beat him up" says his wife

"Yea the fella ended up paying for our drinks for the night and boy what a night it was huh dear" Krafili raises his eyebrows to his wife.

"Not in front of the children" she slaps his arm and shakes her head. "Don't you have a story to finish"


"Ah yes of course, where was I, oh yeah the bandit attacked. So there I was one bandit taken out and another had just swing his sword at me. I blocked the strike and then before he could swing again Iris had flown into his face and caused him to miss his next swing which allowed me to take him out next. He makes a stabbing motion in the air with his arm.

"Next thing you know I am getting shot at again by an arrow but by this time the beetle had flown in the direction of the archer so he was pretty easy to spot. He was pretty easy work also. So you see she has been like a good luck charm ever since and hasn't left my side!" He gives the beetle a little pat on the back.

"Why did you name her Iris?" Asked the children

"Well when I looked around after the battle I noticed we were in an iris field and I felt it was appropriate." Krafil tells them

"So did you name mommy after a bug?" The kids begins to laugh

"No, I named your mother that because both her and this little bug saved my life. One helped he in battle and the other helped me retire from adventuring" Krafil says

"Haha moms named after a bug!" The children begin to chant.

"I think you better watch yourself, your mom is quite proud of her name and she will not take too kindly to you making fun of her" Krafili warns.

"Anyways do y'all want to see what kind of tricks she can do?" Krafili asks the kids eagerly.

"Yes!" The kids say excitedly

"Alright come outside and I'll show you" Krafili says as he leads them outside.


Murphy of Goblins

# Lore for Murphy of Goblins

Letter to be sent by CROW.

Murphy of Goblins

From:

@wizard7238
1 Cabin By The Lake

Dream Master Lake SE, Dreamy State
Runiverse, WEB3- Metaverse

To:
Lore Masters  Artis, @wizard76, Magus Wazir, and Deltamouse

420 Sacred Tower Way, Wizard Central
Runiverse, WEB3- Metaverse

RE:   @warrior1204

Dear Faithful Lore Masters -

This wizard thanks you for all you do and I dream and meditate for you. This wizard thanks you for your faithful work, your loving deeds, and the enduring hope you have because the compassion for those who are lost.  Thank you for the information on the whereabouts of Murphy of Gobins. I report to you what I have found to be the truth and fact from what I have learned and observed.

Murphy (Murph) was abandoned at a young age by his warrior parents near Gobville, the cave goblin capital. Murphy was raised by these cave goblins which is quite unprecedented, never have I ever heard or read about goblin to warrior caretaking! Fascinating! Thank goodness they were cave goblin variety, the most docile kind. If he was found by any other type of goblin (There are so many types you know; underground goblins, mountain goblins, goblins that live under the bridge, snow goblins, null goblins, and even quantum goblins) he would have probably been put on a spike or snacked upon.


Murph was the subject of much torment by the local warrior and kobald towns people, no wonder he has set upon his journey to find more meaning to his life and the key to his past. I will elaborate on what I have learned so far of Murph and hope that the wizard that follows me will be able to record and observe his journey. I picked up much information up in local taverns and halls, as well as direct observation.

Murph is Cursed, Forget Murph!, Goblin Lover!, Not Blessed!; Murph has heard it all from the wizards and warriors that live near the cave goblin lands.  He has been ridiculed for his clothes, for his taste in food, for his mannerisms. Murph appeared to know that he was different in every aspect of his life from the other ducks but keeping the horde mentality, Murph never once tried to break rank and leave Gobville.

I have observed behavior indicating that this young warrior is seeking answers to difficult questions of his origin and family and is contemplating breaking the horde oath and making his way to other lands. Heated arguments with some of the goblin elders have been taking place. My goblin tongue is limited, but captions of their arguments lead me to believe that the goblins are withholding information that Murph wants!


I have learned that Murph is in possession of the Rune of Pluto. I have no idea where he secured such a powerful and magical item. He keeps it wrapped in a red bandanna tucked deep in an abandoned goblin cave. He will sneak out at night and make his way to it and just stare at the rune almost transfixed on its glow. To us wizards, this is just another rune but how it captivates Murph and brings him into a trance is quite interesting. Perhaps it is a warrior thing to where they cannot handle the power?

I would like to pass on my duty of the observance of Murph to another wizard. My time here has been rewarding and I have learned a lot of the ducks and their behaviors. May the runes bless you and keep you and guide you along the way!

!Magic

@wizard7238


Chaos Mage Miyo of the Wood

# About Cinder the Cat

###### *Art by sweetbread*

Cinder the Cat is a Cinnabar Elemental, although he often calls himself an "Oracle of Cinnabar" to make himself feel more important.

Typically living underground, these mischievous beings are occasionally discovered by miners of cinnabar deposits or intrepid explorers that wander into ancient shrines and ruins. They are attracted to Wizards that possess the Rune of Cinnabar, and to those with a particularly chaotic disposition. Preferably both.


Sorcerer Casper of the Ether

Casper burned the hot dogs


Soran Champion of Imps

# A Champion is Born

Soran had heard the tales of secrets and treasures hidden within the Cinnabar Hills. The stories always cautioned against pursuing them, but Soran wasn't worried about that. He journeyed to the Hills alone, only accompanied by his spiked helm and trusty gladius sword.

On reaching the Cinnabar Hills, he was surprised to find they weren't as barren as he'd been led to believe. In fact, there were ruins here and there, and strange markings on the walls that looked like writing.

"What a strange symbol," he muttered as he ran his fingers over the circle and cross shapes that were etched beside an ancient stone arch, which opened into a passage leading down into one of the hills. The soil here was a deep amber color. A thick red mist drifted up from it. It smelled faintly of sulfur. "Is this what I seek?" As he walked further along the path, Soran noticed the ground was soft beneath him now, and he sank quickly with each step, puffs of ochre dust rising behind him.

He walked by a few side passages. From one, he thought he heard a faint giggling sound. The laughter had a sinister tinge to it. "Is anyone there?" he said loudly. The tittering faded away, until Soran wasn't sure if he had imagined it. He proceeded down the central passage.

The passage was long, and at its end, the tunnel opened out onto a large, cavernous room. There were pedestals scattered around the chamber. Most were empty, but some had statues of imps and animals on them. To Soran, it looked as if their eyes glowed dimly with some inner fire.


Suddenly, one of the statues started to move! Or perhaps, it hadn't been a statue in the first place - Soran wasn't sure. Facing him was what appeared to be a common black cat. But then, the cat started to speak.

"You have come." The cat spoke clearly and distinctly. Soran was stunned. How could a simple animal have spoken?

The cat continued, "I am the Oracle of Cinnabar, and you are not welcome here." Suddenly, two of the other statues, these of small imp-like creatures, began moving as well! They were the same reddish color as the dust of this place, and they leered at Soran, laughing malevolently.

"Leave now or face the consequences!" the cat demanded.

"Who are you?" Soran asked.

"My name is Cinder," the cat replied. Its voice sounded cool and refined, like an aristocrat.

"Cinder," Soran said, "I came here, where others dared not tread, in search of wealth and power. I ask a boon of you, Oracle."

"And what would that be?" the cat questioned. "If you refuse my offer, your fate is sealed."

"I want a wish granted," Soran answered, "a single thing that I can do anything with. Give me the authority to command others, so I may assemble an unstoppable force."

"It shall be done," the cat responded, "but beware: it will cost you dearly."

"How much does it cost?" Soran asked.


"How much does it cost?" Soran asked.

"Your soul." Cinder told him. The dust in the cavern began to stir from unseen winds. "I will grant what you seek, human. You will become a Champion of Imps, and all of the denizens of Cinnabar will follow your commands. But," Cinnabar added with a feline grin, "you in turn will follow MY commands, for I cannot let one who has entered this place to leave freely!"

The cat's fur suddenly became emblazoned with blindingly bright red stripes. At the same time, the stirring dust swirled and consolidated into a tiny tornado. Soran instinctively tried to back away, but the winds held him. Soran shouted in terror as the cinnabar dust infiltrated his body through every available orifice. His body spasmed, then lay still on the ground as the winds died down.

"Arise, Champion," Cinder said. Soran silently got back to his feet. "For you are not only a Champion of Imps," the cat said with a toothy grin as his fur faded back to black, "but a Champion of Cinnabar as well."

Soran's eyes, which had been burning red under his spiked helmet moments before, also faded to a dully glowing purple hue. He was ready for further orders.


Buster Crasher of the Jungle

# Buster Crasher of the Jungle

## Buster's Beginnings

---

### Every village sent a fighter.

The people in the cities didnt participate, but they watched the Tournament nonetheless.
They booed, they cheered, they all had their favorites.

The Tournament had existed for some time, early as an ancient tradition to the Gods and then eventually as a modern festival, and a way for several merchants to profit. Dozens of fighters from every part of the continent with a purse of several hundred gold to the winner. Enough to buy a new life for anyone.

Some villages had families who ruled with dynastic might over years of success in the Tournament. For the rest, daily survival was difficult enough.

---

Buster was born in the jungle.
His existence started when he was found on the side of a trail.
Some want for specifics, but there arent any.
No one knows if his parents left him abandoned him there for want of a gracious stranger or were merely jungle nomads themselves and knew the fate of their offspring.

Instead, Buster was found by an old Blacksmith making deliveries between towns.
The Blacksmith swore at himself, discovering the child at the base of a tree, knowing he had a cold heart but not quite cold enough to leave a child on the road.

The Blacksmith took Baby Buster and continued home, uncertain if it was best for either of them.

---

Buster grew up as a child without a childhood.
It didnt help that he had bright, red hair.

Surrounded by large pieces of sharp metal, Buster never learned caution around a bladed edge. He mostly played on his own, making bizarre weapons out of throwaway scraps.


Other kids had toys, but Buster had homemade shivs, daggers, and brass knuckles. The other boys snickered behind Busters back, made jokes about him, but they never dared to say anything to Busters face.

Buster tried to run away several times back to the jungle, but the Blacksmith always went back for him.
One day, Buster stayed in the jungle for a weak, sleeping in a cave and eating raw berries. But eventually he went back to his home with the Blacksmith, though some part of him was always in the jungle.

---

### Every summer, the tournament organizers came around.

As a teenager, Buster watched them take sign-ups from his village, sometimes just using the local pub to stopover and get drunk in between larger towns.

The Blacksmith had grown old, weak. Buster knew soon he would not be able to afford his living. He also knew the gold purse the Tournament offered. The choice for Buster was easy.

Buster ran away one last time, but this time he told the Blacksmith where he was going.

---

Buster was technically forbidden from entering the Tournament. Only combatants who had seen eighteen birthdays could fight, no children. It was a hard and fast rule.
It would have been a problem, if Buster told organizers his age.
But the Organizers took one look at the hulking muscles of the seemingly grown man in front of them and signed him up, feeling only pity for whatever poor soul Buster would face.

The first rounds were normally dictated by a holiday or coronation.
When there was an especially bloodthirsty tyrant on the throne, spectators could be sure to witness a large-scale melee, usually with wild animals thrown in for good measure.
Busters first round was no different.


Buster was pushed into the arena with a group of a half dozen other men, given a box of dull training swords. Buster found all the swords taken and was left with a wooden club with jagged nails jutting out of it. For a second, it was like he was a kid again.

The men stood in the middle of the dirt field, looking at the cheering spectators in the stands around them. Buster wondered how people in the city could be less civilized than their brothers and sisters in the jungle.
But before the men could turn on each other, a gate at the other end of the Arena opened.

A dozen boars charged into the arena, each as heavy as five men, with razor-sharp tusks. They snarled, spit running from their mouths, clearly rabid.

Some men charged the boars, most of them were trampled or gored instantly.
Amidst the initial clash, a boar charged into Buster and knocked him several feet. The boars fur was matted and, to make matters worse, it stank.

In the stands, though Buster couldnt see them, people laughed and cheered, as if what was happening below wasnt really happening at all.
The boar charged Buster again and Buster jumped out of the way, almost knocking into another man trying to fight off his own boar.

As the boar charged once more, Buster swung his spiked bat and hit the boat square between the eyes, killing it. It squealed and then fell silent instantly.

---

### The surviving men were separated into brackets.
Buster sat in the dark in a cell, cold, heart racing for some time after the fight. Before he could sleep, he was brought out again, this time facing just one other fighter


Buster had never seen a goblin in real life, though he had heard of them.
But now, he was standing feet away from a snarling gobbling in the flesh, or whatever it was, he wasnt sure.
Buster wondered if this goblin was captured or an emissary from some far-off village, but it stood two heads over Buster and several shoulders wider. It didnt matter, Buster had to survive.

Before the Goblin could squash Buster, Buster used his speed and ran around the Goblin, climbed up its hairy back, and used his bat to crush the Goblins face. The crowd had never seen such a decisive victory so quickly.

Buster went back into the holding pens. After the cheers from the crowd, it was much quieter this time.

---

Buster wondered what life would be like after the tournament.
He had never known not fighting, but after this, he didnt think hed want to pick up a sword for a long time. And if Buster succeeded, the Blacksmith back home wouldnt have to pick up a sword again either.

The doors opened and Buster was forced to his feet and out into the blinding sun, again.

In front of Buster stood a spear-wielding Zimbala Warrior.
The Zimbala Warriors spear dripped with a syrupy liquid that Buster initially thought blood but realized was some kind of jungle poison.

Buster charged at the Zimbala Warrior, but he was much faster than Buster. He was stronger, smarter. Any time Buster tried to strike, the Zimbala Warrior knocked Busters blows away. Buster felt, for maybe the first time in his life, in trouble.

Buster swung his bat, but the Zimbala Warrior rolled past Buster and slashed his back with the spear.


Buster felt like his flesh was on fire. Like a thousand ants were chewing at his skin. He could barely stand up, much less deflect the Zimbalas blows. His brain was screaming and he felt like this could be the end.

Buster lay on his back, looking up at the sun. The Warrior stood over him, ready to finish Buster off. But as Buster closed his eyes, he heard the crowd scream.

A Golden Jaguar, fur glistening, bounded into the arena. No one knew where it came from. Buster had never seen it before, but the Jaguar felt strangely familiar to him.

The Jaguar jumped on the Zimbala Warrior, slashed him across his front and back, until he wasnt a threat any longer.

Buster crawled to his feet and though there was doubt, shouting in the arena, it was clear that Buster was the last man standing.

Buster was awarded a large sack of gold, a knightship, a large house in the city, half a dozen servants.
But when the Tournament Organizers came for Buster in the morning, they saw only the gold coins gone and the titles and awards all left behind.

Buster, and his Jaguar, had already headed back to the jungle, where they belonged.


Bambam of the Road

Dear diary...


Dante Buster of Monsters

Dear diary...


Illusionist David of the Veil

# Chapter 3: Theres a bugbear in my bonnet

Whoaaaa Smithers! Steady girl.

I tug on the reins and Smithers stops abruptly, almost launching me from the saddle. She whinnies her amusement.

Cheeky scamp, I mutter. Now be quiet do you smell something?

Smithers shakes her head.

Leroy croaks.

There is a scent in the air, friends. An animalistic musk most foul!

I pride myself on having highly advanced olfactory receptors but at times it can be a curse.

Most foul indeed

Case in point.

Leroy, remember the dreaded Dung Cave of the Flatulent Manticore? I whisper. Im getting a similar whiff. Look alive old chap.

The Runiverse is home to all manner of beasts and unfortunately theyre not all as gentle as Smithers here. Indeed, a portion of them will have your head for breakfast with barely a warning.

I squint and peer at the surrounding shrubbery. All is still save for a pair of fluttering butterfly seeking the sweet nectar of the forest. But wait! Theres a flash of movement and I see a hairy brown blur barreling through the foliage.

Aaaaaargh! I let out a very heroic cry to warn Leroy and Smithers of the approaching beast but its too late. The hairy monstrosity knocks me off my feet and I land solidly on my rump.

Without missing a beat the beast leaps onto my chest knocking the wind from my pipes. I feel its warm breath on my eyes which are now very heroically tightly shut.

Farewell Leroy old chap!! Its been a pleasure. I brace for the end.

NNEIEEEEGGGHHHHH. THUD.


NNEIEEEEGGGHHHHH. THUD.

The weight is no longer on my chest and I pop an eye open. Smithers is standing next to me stamping her hoof on the ground. Leroy is perched atop Smithers head. He croaks.

I look across the clearing. The brown furry beast is lurching onto its hindquarters and growling in my general direction.

To my surprise the creature is only waist height. Indeed it would appear I have been assaulted by some form of miniature monstrosity.

Ha! Its a wee bastard! I cry in relief.

The little beastlet howls and stamps its tiny padded feet.

My thats quite a temper. I laugh again shaking my head.

This really sets the little bugger off into a full blown tantrum. Its mewling howl rises into a shriek.

There is a much deeper reply from the nearby woods.

The smile on my face melts instantly and the little bastard seems to smirk.

I spin around to see a hulking brute burst through the branches with a bowel twisting roar.

Bollocks. Its a bugbear!

The little bastard howls and scampers across to its dad, looking back at me and poking out its tongue once safely behind papas leg.

Papa I presume.

The enormous beast bares a row of chainsaw-like teeth and growls. Saliva slopping onto its bone necklace.

I know it looks like I was picking on your little one here but I assure you I am a renowned lover of animals. See? I gesture toward Smithers and Leroy who are now edging slowly away from me and the situation.

The bubear chieftain licks its cracked lips and pats its ample belly.


The bubear chieftain licks its cracked lips and pats its ample belly.

I see. Before you ah tuck in I say as I roll slowly to my side. Let me just share one thing that I think youll find quite interesting.

With that I immediately turn myself into a large vegan cucumdog. Essentially Im a hollowed out cucumber with a smaller cucumber poked inside of it.

The bugbear cocks its shaggy head to one side like a puzzled pooch.

There is a popping sound and now Leroy and Smithers are also vegetable based hors d'oeuvres. An avocado tartare served in a melon and a parsnip wellington if Im not mistaken.

Awwwwwooooooooo!!

The bugbear lopes over to the large cucumdog laying in the mud. It sniffs at my green skin. Being a master of illusion I have perfected my skills to operate on all senses, so to him I am indeed a vegetable by all means and purposes.

The little bastard scampers over to the Smithers wellington and licks the crusty pastry.

Phhttblurgh It spits onto the ground and grimaces.

After a final growl the big bugbear turns and lopes off into the woods, no doubt wondering where its meaty meal has gone.

After a beat the little bugbear sets off after its father but as it gets to me it stops.

No no no no, Im thinking.

The little bastard cocks its hind leg and proceeds to urinate over my fine travelling cape.

Im sure the little bastard is grinning again.

After what feels like an eternity it finally scampers off into the brush.

I allow myself to exhale but I keep the illusion alive until Im sure the beasts are long gone.


Smithers and Leroy sidle over to me as I rise to my feet.

Once again I am covered in some form of beastly excrement, I say as I wring out the corner of my cape.

Leroy croaks.

Yes Im sure it won't be the last time.

I turn to my animal friends and whip my soggy cape over my shoulder.

Now come. For adventure awaits for no wizard. Aha!


Alchemist Ofaris of the Desert

# Healers Quest

Ofaris, a healer, travels the lands to help others. As he is blind himself, he relies on his feline friend, Powder, to navigate the treacherous journey.


Spike Eidolon of the Ice

# Spike Eidolon of the Ice
# Was a warrior who didn't play nice
# But when he stepped to his mom
# Without even a qualm
# She smacked him and didn't think twice


Magus Uday of Avalon

# Magus Uday of Avalon

So, you finally come to me.
Didn't you read the letters I have been sending you?
My Crow "Jackro" speaks the visions...
Day is night and night is day,
I have ventured far and wide,
stick by my humbled friend,

Are you not prepared, let me reach inside my bag of tricks, show you what I have collected in my journeys afar!

Hmm... My crow is not best pleased....
What danger comes of you and me?

Dont hide from your fate, the crow knows.
My bag of tricks aside You will remember me well,

Oh stranger, stranger,

darkened lands,

Magus am I, ov' Avalon way!

Remember me well, you'd be glad you stay.

By Runes of Saturn, this will be our path to sway.

Fly Jackro fly, return the gifts tomorrow and today.

> *by a lore writer Millar Tenebrae*

@soul9323!


Alchemist Baozhai of the Wood

# Baozhai's Lament

Baozhai after receiving her father's final letter, following the events of the Great Wizard Burn Election.

Image by Kel_1of1 + NovelAI Diffusion Engine


Caylon Eidolon of the Hall

# New Lore Entry

_Delete below sample to write your own_

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

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

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

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

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

### Image uploads

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

### External Image Links

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

### Embedded videos

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

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

# Getting new lines right

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

**First**

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

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

**Second**

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

# Tagging other characters

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

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


Thomas Dismantler of the Ruins

# Origin of Thomas

>Thomas not wanna disappoint you... Thomas memory is not so good... But Thomas will try and 'member what Thomas can.

>Thomas never been brightest... Thomas mama told Thomas when Thomas was baby, "Thomas you no smart but you strong."

>It true, even when baby, Thomas strong. When Thomas baby, Thomas like smash stuff and break stuff. Thomas still like to. But when Thomas baby Thomas smash and break too many stuff. Mama and everyone mad at Thomas. They think to get rid of Thomas. They take Thomas out to old Ruins. They tell Thomas, "Break and smash as much you want here." Then they go.

>Thomas stay in Ruins breaking and smashing everything. Many days pass. When Thomas hungry he smash a aminal. 'Ventually while Thomas breaking and smashing, Thomas find weapon and armor. This make Thomas can smash stuff even better.

>Thomas finished breaking and smashing Ruins. Nothing left to smash. Thomas want see what else in world. Thomas leave Ruins and go to rest of world.


Druid Froggy of the Gnostics

The day begins as most days begin.  Soft sunlight begins to filter through thick tree foliage, creating bright sparks of lights out of the specks of dust floating in the air.  The sunlight flows into the room in pulsing waves as the curtains blow lazily in the morning swamp breeze.  Smells of freshly baked breads wafted along with the sunlight and following a loud rumble of his stomach, Froggy sluggishly stretches out his limbs and pulls himself from bed.  Another day starting just like any other, but little did Froggy know the events of today would change everything.

Grabbing a hunk of steaming bread off the hearthstone he rubs at his eyes glancing around the hut.  Father is nowhere to be seen, of course, already at the temple, but he is surprised to note his mother and two younger sisters are nowhere to be found either.  Pondering the morning with a mind still shaking off sleep he pulls his Green Mantle Robe over his head becoming instantly tangled in the flowing fabric.   Tugging and grunting the sleeves are finally located and his broad froggish face pokes through.

Shoving the remaining lump of bread into his mouth he picks up his stick propped outside his door and steps into his fathers study.  He is unable to enter the room without a feeling of wonder.  The shelves lining the walls are filled with religious texts, with artifacts, and tokens of great importance.  A spike of guilt rises in him to be contemplating ownership and coveting possessions within moments of being awake.


As a Gnostic he strives to learn, to experience, and to grow in his spiritual understanding of the Runiverse and its inhabitants.   He seeks enlightenment and understanding beyond that of the Holy Arcanist who created the material realm and all within.  Stiving always to ignore the distractions of this realm to strengthen his bond to those powers that lie beyond this plane of existence he takes a deep breath to realign his thoughts.

Among this tribes numbers there are two unusually gifted Anurans who have reached the level of enlightenment that allows for direct contact with the realm of Monad.  His father a Druid like himself and his uncle a renowned alchemist both transcended the boundaries of this realm and have traveled to the great heights of light outside the physical realm.  Based on the rumors and local lore, they are the only two to have conversed directly with an Aeon in generations.  The bond they forged is obvious in the glowing Aeons that float slowly around them both, pulsating runes that constantly twist and turn as they drift in and out of existence in the Runiverse.   Not entirely in the material plane, yet no longer fully present in Monad, the aeons allow for communication to a realm beyond. The Aeons have granted knowledge and insight to their chosen ones over the years resulting in a long period of peace and growth for their little backwoods village.


As the son, and nephew, of the town mystics, Froggy has been encouraged to spend much of his time in study and devotion to the spiritual teachings.   Not yet considered a full master, Froggy, is still considered a prodigy to have obtained the ranking of Druid at such a young age.  In a ceremony only a few weeks prior he had been raised rank and gifted with this dumb stick.  A long-standing tradition among the Gnostics, the stick is of course a symbol.  It is a symbol that while nothing is as simple as it seems everything of this realm is both less and more than it appears.  To learn how to contact the planes of existence beyond his own Froggy must first truly understand the nature of all things within the Runiverse.  Only with this knowledge as an anchor is it possible to travel safely beyond the physical realm and return.

With his life devoted to study and scholarly activities he understood there was more than a ritual to the carrying of this stick and he intended to commit and understand this lesson and continue his journey of enlightenment.  Why a stick? he thought as he rounded the table and sits himself down at the orderly desk centered in the room.  Why not a seed, or a fruit? something that was still alive or had the potential to create more than it already was surely had more to teach than something that had already reached the end of its journey.  A static thing, without life, without
A scream in the distance broke his line of thought.  Thatsounded like his sister.  His darling, precious little sister who was always carefree and joyful.  The terror he heard shot him out of his seat, out of the room, and sprinting out the door of his home.  It sounded as though the noise had come from the town square and he made haste to seek its source.


As he approached, he heard more and more people calling out and the morning calm had become a screaming mass.  Turning the last bend in the road he had a clear view of the square and the sight that he encountered set a chill to his bones.  His uncle hovered several feet above the ground glowing brightly and slightly rotating.  His mouth hung slack, a glowing substance coated his lips, and his eyes were dull and unfocused.  Froggy could see his father as well, his arms wrapped around the legs of his uncle also hovering above the ground with a slight glow to his flesh.

With every revolution the pair spun faster until their forms resembled nothing more than a tornado of light spinning with such velocity nothing of their human shapes remained.  Then they were gone.  They did not slowly fade, nor shrink into the distance, but just vanished.  Everything in the world froze.  There was no sound, no movement. The gap in space inhabited by the pair was replaced by a flash of blinding light and a blast of sound so fierce it blew Froggy onto his back meters away from where he stood.


Pulling himself to his feet he stared around finally noticing other people of the town awestruck and terrified.  The final image of his mentors flashed in his eyes with each blink and his ears rang in the silence that followed.  Something had gone terribly wrong, but what.  How could this have happened?  The answers to these questions must be discovered, but where to even begin? The two most learned shaman in town had disappeared in a flash of light leaving Froggy the most advanced of his sect.
He noticed the towns people had all gone silent and many began to cast their eyes to their remaining, though novice mystic.  Not knowing how it would be accomplished Froggy did know he would be the towns best hope to solve this mystery.  He felt, no he knew, the only way to save his father and uncle was to obtain enlightenment, summon his Aeon and follow them into the other realm.

To save his family he must find his rune, and become more than just an adept.  Clutching his stick tightly, he returned to his fathers study to gather those artifacts of power he understood along with the religious texts and books of runes.  There he remains in study, unwilling to leave the room until he can determine his next steps in the search for his family.


Tad Defender of Light

# INITIATION SEQUENCE......

BEEEEEEE---MEEEOoooooooop. BLIP..BLIPBLIPhmmmmmmmmmmmmm

From darkness and nothing comes first a beep, followed by a pulsing, and ultimately a low hum.

Footsteps echo away into the distance until there is no other sound, but the humming which seems to come from inside.

Awareness of self, of light, and of mission creeps into my consciousness in waves.

PROTECT THOSE WHO STAND FOR THE LIGHT

DEFEND THOSE UNABLE TO DEFEND THEMSELVES

STAND AGAINST THOSE FORCES SEEKING TO DESTROY LIFE

STAND FOR THE LIGHT

The steady hum becomes a pulse and slowly the darkness becomes blinding bright white.

There is only LIGHT

and then there is also a power.

AN IMMENSE PRESENSE.

Awareness of self continues to seep in, and knowledge of life begins. Consciousness. Beyond only thought and sound there is something more though it is difficult to hold a cohesive thought.

INITIATE summoning sequence
0, 1, 2, 3, 4.

The numbers stream on and on and over time each number also flashes an image. At first only groupings of colors, but soon there is a basic pattern to the images.  There seem to be no more than few components to each, but no two the same.  I understand there must be a limit to their number, but their variety feels infinite and overwhelms me. The sense of a powerful presence remains.  Something infinite and untapped, terrifying in its intensity, yet also enticing.  The sheer force of it swirls the mind, numbing all else.


The numbers continue forever.  No not endless I realize for upon reaching 10,000, they return to 0 and begin once more the march upwards.  There is nothing but the colors, the power, and numbers.  Beyond this a slow dawning of reality and self continues although thoughts are sluggish as though waking from a prolonged dream.

RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE

The sound of something bouncing and rolling across a surface begins this time when the number loops back to 0.  Something hard with many edges striking and rolling along something flat and smooth. Each time the sound stops the images shudder and appear more cohesive.

RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE

As the sound continues the numbers progress on, this time with an almost imperceptible pause followed by the that same sound of something multifaceted bouncing along a flat plane.  Each time the rattle trails off and becomes silent the colors shatter and reform into a more cohesive image.

RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE

The shapes reform and shift, becoming more cohesive, more consistent with each revolution through the 10,000. I am startled when forms begin to take shape into something my awareness knows are runes.  At first, only a few seem complete, and I note these are carried forward from one sequence to the next. The rest of the numbered runes continue to shift in each sequence on and on as the numbers count and the RATTLE continues.  With jarring suddenness now most of the 10000 show clear images and forms that I understand are not only colors and shapes but things.

Wizards.


Wizards.

Now each counting through the numbers is slow and precise.  The shapes have taken their final forms.  This time a count to 10000 and each form is precise and complete. An energy not unlike a satisfied and exhausted exhale of breath surrounds everything and the counting ends.  The silence is a void of nothingness and I have a moment of panic.  A pressure in my mind that had been such a constant I never noticed it is lifted.  But then it is replaced by the presence of power magnified 1000 fold.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND!

A voice booms into my mind.  Before I can even fathom a response, I realize I do understand.  The Great Summoning.  The creation of all the wizards of the Runiverse.  But there is more than even this, the summoning of endless threads, storylines, and infinite future potential.  I do not yet fully fathom self, but I can clearly understand the events I have just witnessed.  A moment of creation, a beginning, though clearly not THE beginning.  I am in the presence of THE Creator of ALL.  The Holy Arcanist.

I attempt to look and I immediately regret the feeling of disorientation.  I am forced to cut of my visual field overwhelmed and unable to comprehend the being of power and light before me.

I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU, TAD

The awesome voice booms into the very fabric of my mind.

YOU TOO HAVE BEEN SUMMONED. THOUGH IN A DIFFERENT WAY

Why, how, who, what am I? The shock of realizing my own existence threatens to unravel my sanity.
DO NOT ASK WHY (the voice continues in a softer tone)

ONLY DO AS I ASK, IT IS NOT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND, THOUGH YOU WILL IN TIME


Trembling before the force of will and the voice echoing in my mind I hear a mantra intoned that increases in intensity until I can feel it imprinted into the very core of my being.

PROTECT THOSE WHO STAND FOR THE LIGHT

DEFEND THOSE UNABLE TO DEFEND THEMSELVES

STAND AGAINST THOSE FORCES SEEKING TO DESTROY LIFE

STAND FOR THE LIGHT

GUARD 55

The last line sends a shock through my core though the rest feels familiar.  Has this happened before?

What, what am I I think Who Am I

YOU ARE TAD, DEFENDER OF THE LIGHT

YOUR PURPOSE WILL BECOME CLEAR IN TIME

FOR NOW SEEK OUT WIZARD 55

HIS SUIT IS WOVEN OF THE LIGHT OF A RAINBOW

HE IS ACCOMPANIED ALWAYS BY HIS COMPAINION SKRAMPS

PROTECT THEM, GUARD THEM, AID THEM

THEY SERVE ME AS DO YOU

A hundred questions swirl and vanish before they can form.  The force withdraws and I feel myself in motion.  Swirls of iridescent color blinds me and wind roars as I now feel propelled at great speed. The inertia is too much to withstand, and I can feel myself shutting down as it overwhelms me.
When I am again aware I find myself somewhere totally different.  Lights, sounds, and the infinite variety of nature all around me.  Attempting to recall who I am and what has happened only creates a disorienting sense of confusion.

I find beside me a crystal claymore and a mirrored shield that fit perfectly into straps I find attached to my armor. I stand and hear a constant echo in my mind, with a throbbing insistence.

GUARD 55  find Ghost Eater Kobold of the Technochrome


# Chapter 2

How can I find this Ghost Eater Kobold?  I cant even find my way out of this forest.  I must be walking in circles.  Everything looks the same except for new types of bugs that buzz around and things I find crawling and slithering through the grasses.  Frustrated and unsure what direction to go next, I sit down with my back to a tree to gather my energies.

SQUACK

I must have entered sleep mode, as I come alert a shadow appears on the ground at my feet.  Angling my head up towards the noise I see a flutter of movement like a tiny rainbow shifting and flapping in an adjacent tree.  As the motion stills, I see resting on the branches above me a large parrot.

SQUACK

This is unlike any bird I know.  I find I know of many varieties of birds, from the tiny Esmereldes Woodstar Hummingbird so small their flight sounds like the buzz of a bee, to the giant albatross that can stay sleeping in flight while their giant wings ride on currents of wind.  Never has there been such an amazing bird as this.  It is as though each individual feather is made of tiny prisms.  Every time I look, I find different shades of light reflected to me.  I feel myself drawn to this creature and rise to my feet to get a better look.


The bird tilts its head down, winks and then takes flights.  Its beautiful in a way that resonates to my very core and I know this bird is important.  I follow the flashes of color as it weaves it way through the woods and must pick up my pace to a run to keep up.  Each time I fear I have lost its trail it circles back, flaps its wings from a nearby branch and then again launches into flight.
Finally feeling I am on the right path I chase after the macaw barely noticing when the trees give way to a flat open plain.  I pick up my pace in the grasslands, easier to keep track of the streaking bird and without all the uneven ground of the forest.  As the sun begins to dip toward the horizon a structure is silhouetted in the distance directly in my path.

SQUACK

With the golden rays of the descending sun glancing off those prismatic wings the bird seems to glow with its own light.  Spellbound I stop in place to watch the wonder of light and color in the sky above.  Circling back over my head, I see the moment with an exceptionally powerful flap of its wings a single feather comes loose and floats slowly towards the earth.  Catching it in my hand I cant help but spin it around and become lost in the beauty of its iridescence.

It isnt until the sun has set and darkness falls that I shake off the spell.  In the absence of the light the feather is incredibly beautiful, but its magic has faded.  I tuck it in my belt and continue along the path to the structure in the distance.


# Chapter 3 - The Atelier

I near the house as the final light from twilight fades into darkness.  Approaching the door, light flicks on and as I lift my hand to knock the door swings open.  Standing on the other side is a kindly face smiling back at me from the portal.

Ahhh Tad you made it, a little late, but welcome to the Atelier.  We have been expecting you.

Waving me in Im brought to the inside of a comfortable cottage surrounded by a beautiful walled garden softly lit in the fading light.

Make yourself comfortable, this will be your room for the week, and we will get started in the morning.

Looking slightly embarrassed he added, You did of course bring an offering?  Something to pass along to the next visitor to the Atelier.

I reach into my waist band and withdraw the rainbow feather.

I have only this to offer

Oh how very curious, very curious indeed! This is of course the perfect offering, but it was truly destined for you to arrive in this time.  You will find the gift left for you by the previous guest on upon your bedside table.  As you rest I ask you to consider your gift received, consider your offering given, and we will discuss more of the Atelier in the Light of day.

Shown to my room I find on the table the pitch black feather of a crow.  A jolting contrast to the prismatic feather of the scarlet macaw.  Sitting on the edge of the bed I hold the feather, twirling it slightly in my gauntlet and sit late into the night considering the contrast of rainbow and blackness, Light and Dark.


The week with Caleh passes quickly as I learn more of the world and myself.  Through the study of Light and Shadow I unlock the mechanisms for charging my armor, shield, and sword. Ozzz helps explain more of the workings of the Runiverse while constantly asking his own questions I struggle to answer.  As a masterful artist Ozzz creates a piece to remember our time together and the lessons I have learned while in this refuge.

After discovering the mechanism of using my inner energy to power my gear I am no longer reliant on external light for my protection.  The scarlet macaw began to visit us during our final sessions and upon learning to activate my pauldrons its favorite perch has become my shoulder.  Watching the flashing colors play across the iridescent wings brings me the first peace I have felt since my awakening.

The time has come to continue my journey.  I leave with a more complete understanding of my purpose and a new constant companion in the macaw who now rarely leaves my side.  Also strengthened by a new understanding of my systems abilities and a truer understanding of the Light and Darkness in all things.  Grateful for Ozzz and the knowledge gained in our short time together I again heed the unceasing mantra and prepare to resume my journey to ...

guard 55  find Ghost Eater Kobold of the Technochrome


Alchemist Ramiz of the Bastion

# Rolling by the woods

Wiz Ramiz Cromwell of the Hills, rolls by the vast forest trails
encircling Dream Master Lake, escorted by his loyal shepherd
friend.

> @wizard258
> becometh
> @wizard5597

Artist: Ozzz


Georgios Striker of Courage

According to ancient Runiverse knowledge it's hard to be precise about where a story begins, for every story is but a thread, in a larger, longer fabric - one that is connected to the beginning of time.

There are many stories of war in the Runiverse, hence there also many stories about warriors and their deeds. This is one of them.

# The story of Georgios, Striker of Courage

## 1. Georgios and the "Dragon"

*(...) riding a white battle horse, a knight with golden scale armor, armed with sword and spear, charged against the fearsome creature (...)*


Shaman Azazel of the Astral Plane

# **The BlackSand Tournament I**

*Round I, Duel I*

## **From Arvid Terror of Penguins**

BlackSand?! @warrior12794 hummed almost in disbelief. She never thought she would have ended up in such a god-forgotten place. *What a well fitting name for this dusty city* she laughed out while running by a small merchant cart and stealing a red apple. The poor merchant yelled in vain as Arvid jumped away and quickly disappeared around a dark corner. So much fun! she shouted with her usual wide smile, always so prone to turning into a loud laugh.

Arvid was a tall girl for her age, or at least that was what everyone told her. And beautiful, she chuckled. She came from the north, from a rich family of fishers that had basically built a mini empire by taming, training, and trading penguins. But she could not deal with the fish stench. *Definitely not.* From a young age she had been rebellious and never once wasted the chance to run around pretending to be a warrior from the stories she so dearly loved. Sometimes she even managed to steal a penguin or two to train with. Penguin Punch she shouted as she pumped her right fist in the air like she used to do when she was a kid.

Arvid was so invested in the idea of becoming a warrior that her mother funded her martial arts and sword lessons and bought her the shiny mail armor she wore. *Love you mummy* she smiled.

Her dream of being a warrior was what brought her to BlackSand. She happened to be with her older brother on a fishing trip near the city when a crow dropped news of the legendary BlackSand tournament. Legendary my ass she laughed. In fact, no one had ever heard of it and it indeed appeared to be the first time it was ever hosted. *At least I finally have my chance to fight*.


While she had trained for years, she had never been in an actual fight. And thanks to the Seven Sisters, her brother was too busy to keep tab on her whereabouts today. So as soon as she had a chance, she signed up for this duel thing.

Proudly wearing her plate helmet and holding her round shield, she trotted through the Main Street heading to the tournament arena. But calling it an arena was a big stretch. A few rows of bleachers on the right and a wooden fence on the left functioned as perimeter to the fighting area. The ground consisted of that annoying, black, granular sand that seemed to cover the entire town. *It feels cheap. But at least there is a crowd* she thought, as a few tens of people were taking their seats on the wooden bleachers. That weird Wizard with the round stony-looking face was calling everyones attention. He then proceeded to eloquently introduce the legendary tournament. After some scattered applause from the fans, he initiated the fight.

Arvid made her way to the center. It was time for her duel. The Tournament had allowed for a trial fight yesterday, where she ended up surrendering to this Qamar person. But this time she was ready to fight.

On the other side of the small arena, her opponent ceremonially drew his sword. What the heck, I forgot my sword again Arvid murmured quietly, embarrassed. A loud snap followed, and her opponents sword magically lit on fire. The crowd cried with excitement and started clapping to the unexpected flaming sword.

Arvids eyes widened in shock: ah fuck

---

## **From Qamar Combatant the Rune Riders**


---

## **From Qamar Combatant the Rune Riders**

@warrior11169s night had so far been quiet. For months now he had been stationed with the Mercenary Camp. A band of twenty-ish warriors camped in the East lands selling their swords to the best offer. But the past couple of weeks had been awfully calm.

So, for once, Qamar got excited when a black crow landed in the Camp with a message. The message promised gold coins to whomever won some sort of tournament in a city called BlackSand. Gold coins? Thats all I need to know Qamar grunted as he threw the fancy letter into the fire in front of him. *I will never get how these crows know where to drop stuff, oh well* But Qamar dismissed his own thoughts and resolved to get to sleep before starting his journey to this BlackGround or something city. Qamar didnt know much about that place. He had only heard some stories about a once glorious city in the West that was now totally gone. Ah what a pity Qamar sighed. He had never been curious about history. In fact, he had never really been curious about anything at all. At a young age he had been adopted by a jungle tribe of warriors. All he knew growing up was fighting. No more no less. What else is there to do? Qamar asked Feix, his loyal jaguar sitting next to him.

The next morning, Qamar gathered his few belongings and headed out of the camp. After years of training, he was quite muscular, with thick arms and broad shoulders that made up for his relatively short body. Few fellow mercenaries waved their goodbyes as he crossed the camp wooden gates. *Maybe I should have told them about this* Qamar thought, but no use now. The majority of the camp had been summoned to what seemed like a potential war brewing far East.


A few weeks later, Qamar finally made it to BlackSand. He was surprised by how desolated it felt - he could only see a handful of people on the streets and only a few inns and shops. He decided to seek shelter for the night and inquire about the tournament early in the morrow.

The day after he headed towards the arena people called the Astral Plane. As he approached the empty pit to sign up for the tournament, Qamar was approached by a wizard with a non-human head that looked like a round dark stone. He was holding a red feather and some parchment: Your name? the Wizard asked. Qamar he replied.

Very well the Wizard said an Anuuah warrior I see!? That comment left Qamar quite surprised *How does he know about my origins?* You will be starting now the Wizard quickly instructed him, pointing him towards the middle of the fighting pit.

Waiting for Qamar was a tall, blond girl wearing a flamboyant armor. *Wheres her weapon?* Qamar observed. This will be a trial the Wizard shouted. You may now proceed.

A trial? Qamar hesitated as he reached the center of the pit. But that hesitation gave his opponent an opening. The girl punched him hard in the stomach to then land another punch straight to his face. After the initial shock, Qamar took a few steps back. Quickly drawing his sword, he hit his opponent on the head, knocking her out.

Stop, stop now, she surrenders the Wizard intervened. Good skills Qamar. Come back tomorrow when we will officially commence the tournament. Confused Qamar left. *WhatWhat is going onwas that a test?*

The following day seemed to be a much bigger deal. As Qamar re-entered the pit, tens of people were in the crowd waiting for the fight. *Things getting real serious now*