Druid Tundror of the Waste

# The Lore of Druid Tundror of the Waste

Tundror was born into an occult enclave of wizards in an area known as The Waste. From an early age, Tundror displayed a remarkable ability to perform magic most older wizards couldnt. Tundror felt misunderstood by his peers, and many of them were jealous of his natural talents. This resulted in a very lonely childhood, and Tundror felt anger and resentment towards those that mistreated him. He would often get in trouble with his mentors for using magic to punish those who bullied and teased him. He graduated at an early age and decided to begin his journey in the Runiverse alone.

In his early quests, Tundror became more and more attracted to dark magic. He thought it would be the key to having all those who hated him now love him - and if not, fear him. Thanks to his exceptional magic ability, the wizard quickly acquired ornate items of magic that enhanced his power. He found a familiar to aid him in his journey: a field dog that tracks pieces of occult and arcane magic that were rumored to be lost to the forces of nature. Within months, the wizard acquired a powerful robe of shadows and learned a spell that allowed him to conjure an emerald staff from nothing but a splinter of wood.

One unfortunate night, in the depths of a cave at the outskirts of the Runiverse, Tundror came across a strange rune - one he vaguely remembered reading about in one of the books at the Great Library. The rune spoke softly, calling those with good intentions to come forward. Unable to resist its pull, Tundror stepped forward to take the rune, and in doing so was cursed. His face was transformed into the visage of a werebeast. Upon escaping, everyone he came across fled in terror, and he was unable to return to normal civilization again.


With all this great power - and anger - Tundror now travels the Runiverse as a dark wizard, spreading mayhem and chaos everywhere he goes.


Hedge Wizard Ixar of the Villa

# @HedgeWizardIxar has been captured!

wizards, i've been captured.

the puzzles binding me will be hard to solve.

any brave heroes will be duly rewarded.

will you join the hunt?

www.curiousquests.xyz


Sorcerer Salah of the Sacred Pillars

# The Lore of Sorcerer Salah of the Sacred Pillars

**Origins**

_"In every walk with nature, one recieves far more than he seeks."_

-_John Muir_

Salah always believed that the most powerful magic could be observed in the natural world. A seed sprouting, a leaf unfolding, metamorphosis These powerful cycles of life were overlooked by many, but not Salah. If plants could draw their power from the fiery ball in the sky, then surely Salah could manipulate the elements of the natural world as well. It was amongst the trees where Salah first learned of magic and spells. By the most unlikely of characters, a swamp bullfrog, Salah was guided to a seemingly dumb stick. Unbeknownst to him, this stick was exactly what he was looking for all along


Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow

# The Legend of Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow

Deemed too evil for hell, this wizard upon death was given the Solar Staff in exchange for his promising to never die again.

Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow emerged back into the world and raised an army, toppling towns and cities and eventually settling down in a large compound where his cult following tends to his every whim on fear of retribution of his pet snake, Juicy.


Illusionist Larissa of the Canyon

# The Lore of Illusionist Larissa of the Canyon

Studying the school of illusion since she was a girl, Larissa knew she would be a professor of the magical arts. With her lovely Lady Bug by her side, Larissa was unstoppable. She taught any folk who desired to learn the ways of her practice.

One day, she stumbled upon a handsome Battle Mage from the Plains named Malthus. Knowing he would need to make it clear that his intentions were pure, Malthus sent his trusty rodent friend to deliver a special gift to Larissa.

She could not help but fall for this sweet spell caster. He opened her eyes to new ideas and experiences. They quickly fell in love, finding safety and closeness like they never had before. Rumor has it, they spend their days playing chess.


Druid Jabir of the Marsh

# The Lore of Druid Jabir of the Marsh

Druid Jabir also known as a Son of a Dark Wizard is a powerful mage who not only teaches powerful other powerful mages but in fact, he is the standard by which the rest of the Wizarding World is set.


Archmagus Cedric of the Tower

# The Lore of Archmagus Cedric of the Tower

Although its exact origin is still unclear, we know from records of the Magician Academy that Cedric was an extremely talented student from a very early age, but was otherwise described as very reserved and quiet. Under the direction of the Demon Master, Cedric came to be as unimaginable in power as depravity.


Enchanter Daria of the Desert

# The Lore of Enchanter Daria of the Desert

Solitude. The stark reality of this ancient enchantress. Countless centuries ago she was left to her own devices as just a child, abandoned by her family of which she has no recollection. She learned to care for herself, taking what she could from the wilderness. She became well in tuned with the wild, developing a sense for the plants, animals and mystic beings around her.

It was sometime around her youth when her only companion appeared, a raggedy sun cat trying to steal her fish drying in the sun. Daria was unsure if she was just imagining it at first, but she swore she could understand the little kittys thoughts (it was surprisingly mature and wise). Through the years, Matahari, as Daria came to name her, became her closest and only confidant and friend.

Right around that time is when Daria really delved in to potions. She quickly developed an affinity to the mandrake potion, which would soon consume her life. Mandrake potions are famous for their healing effects, but what Daria wasnt prepared for were the addictive and psychedelic effects of her brews. The constant consumption of the potions imbued both Daria and Hari with near immortality, but also introduced severe psychosis, depression, and schizophrenia. Her years and centuries bled together growing and breeding mandrakes, harvesting and testing different preparation methods with countless homegrown additives, and having repetitive arguments with Hari. Mental breakdowns where she burned her crops, smashed her vials, contemplated or attempted to take her own life were routine. But her or Hari were always able to piece things back together.


After so many centuries, their addiction to the potions have become an addiction to life itself. Trapped in a cycle of breeding and brewing, each batch preceded by hysterical terror and dread, and followed by elation and relief. The two have come to think as one, unable to form complete thoughts without one another and having abject fear and mistrust of any outsiders that cross their path.

They have been able to quietly exist for so long in their tiny little corner of the world, but civilization has finally spread to push up against their homestead. Soon rumors of their potions began to spread. Even though theyve never shared their batches with anyone else, always finishing each batch every day before starting anew the next, the rumors have garnered the attention of Big Potion.


Shaman Ixar of the Brine

# The Lore of Shaman Ixar of the Brine

Ixar was not born a wizard.

A native of Calistas Citadel, Ixar was a tenured professor of archaeology at the University of Shifting Sands. Outside of teaching, Ixar would study magical objects. On his way to the Quantum Shadow, a place he believed held the mysteries behind the Sacred Flames, Ixar found himself lost in the brush of the Thorn. For 60 days, Ixar was stuck in the mangled forest, having to fend for himself with only a staff. On the 60th day, Ixar found Bear, a monkey-familiar. Ixar couldnt explain what happened when he found the creature,  but one thing was certain, he had gained the ability to use magic. Postponing his quest, Ixar used his new abilities to get back to the Shifting Sands to build his relationship with Bear and uncover the reason behind his new talents.

Although there is nothing conclusive, Ixar believes his familiar was trained by Merlin, the legendary wizard of old, and the bond he has with Bear allows him to channel Merlin's magic.

It's been 20 years since meeting Bear and Ixar continues to teach at the Shifting Sands while using his new abilities to hunt and protect artifacts. His classes are always filled with students gleefully entertained with tales of his encounters with Lost Souls, Dark Arcanists, and Kobolds. Ixar has yet to crack the case of the Sacred Flames, but there's a rumor that he's quite close.


Illusionist Hobbs of the Obelisk

# The Lore of Illusionist Hobbs of the Obelisk

    The fur gnome child, Hobbs, looked up to no one.  He was strong willed, but loved powdering his head fur to play theater, and loved singing and dancing.  He was certainly a gnome born of the arts.  He was reared by two quiet loving gnomes who raised him to be self-sufficient and laid no specific path before him.

    Yet tragically Hobbs was kidnapped from the Wold as a young gnome by the crazy bald heads and imprisoned for years.  During this lengthy imprisonment Hobbs endured ritualistic abuse at the hands of his captors, including daily flogging, biting, and hair and nail pulling.  It was there that Hobbs discovered a world of hate and exploitation - unheard of in his happy little Fur Gnome Wold.  He became hardened and found hate in his own heart.  But, a spark of hope lit his tiny cell and after 1 year of secretive digging, Hobbs realized a passageway to the crystal caves in the realm of the Skylord Rookery.

    While questing for freedom and fresh air in the crystal caves, he came upon a large rose crystal cavern bearing a resplendent pool of water.  Seizing the opportunity to refresh himself, he lied there and washed himself of the hateful memories of the bald heads and of the simple love of the Gnome Wold.  Suddenly he felt the water flooding his masculine and feminine energies, uncomfortably choking them with a new found love - a different love, inclusive of both physical and emotional aspects of the she and the him.  Immersed, Hobbs grew into a unified self capable of Aphrodite's love for all: he, she, and them.


The pulsing of Aphrodites heart soon began to throb everywhere, from his head, to his loins, to his toes.  Flexing, he projected an aura of the heart beyond himself, radiating the power till it vibrated the surrounding crystals of the cavern with a pinkish hue.

    Hobbs in his journey would come to find that this love power was complex, being unpredictably unyielding, and in extremis crushingly entrancing.  Yet, it was powerful enough to dispel the shape shifting used to enchant and deceive its targets masc or femme energies.

    As he emerged from the underground crystal caverns, Hobbs knew the sky/wind energies would take him along a new path of action and discovery.  Now whether it would be adventure, revenge on the baldheads, or simply finding love to quench that profound inner thirst that enchants all living things, he would be finally free again.


Alchemist Katherine of the Hollow

# The Lore of Alchemist Katherine of the Hollow

Katherine oh Katherine, what could she be up to now? You see, Katherine was not like any other princess. She was born into a wealthy family, but she didn't want to follow along with their rich proper ways. Since she was a young lady, she had a difficult time following the rules. She secretly grew a passion for potions and magic after meeting a witch down by the oldest village in the Hollow. Most of her potion making practice was in the middle of the night when she would sneak away to meet with Enchanter Sarah by the Sleepy Green River. There they would perfect their craft by going over what they've leanred from books and heard from others. Little do they know what this would lead them to in the near future when they come across the purple potion of Doom....


Scryer Tundror of the Field

# The Lore of Scryer Tundror of the Field

Tundror was born in a sprawling meadow along the reaches of The Fey and The Thorn woods. As a young werebeast, he spent most of his time honing skills as a hunter and tracker, fashioning wooden spears and arrows tipped with sharp stones from his trips to the northern mountains that he himself carved on cold nights spent fireside. Werebeasts are half man, half wolf, and are known to be able to communicate with those within the canine family, among other beast-like abilities. One fabled summer afternoon as he stalked a white deer in the Fey, he came across a young wolf pup that seemed to have lost its pack. The cub dashed to Tundror, growling deeply to assert that it was not afraid. Tundror responded by dropping his spear and kneeling to the ground with hands held out to show he meant no harm. He whispered a language unknown to humans, one he himself had not spoken before but somehow naturally came out. The wolfs ears perked and she leapt into Tundrors arms, licking his face and wagging her tail. lll call you Tazza, he said smiling.


He and Tazza quickly became well known to the communities that sprawled the many woods of The Wild. They would roam villages, seeking merchants, farmers, and townspeople whos lives were troubled by the many monsters, ghouls, witches, and wizards that often wandered through the lands, looking for food, riches, or simply to stir up senseless chaos. Tundror was especially known to be an expert hunter of Blood-Sick Vampyres, a vile and depraved Vampyre that has been corrupted by drinking the blood of a monster. Werebeasts and Vampyres have historically been at odds, fighting violent wars over centuries. Recently, with the growing presence of magics both pure and evil, theyve been able to cast aside their differences and live peacefully so long as they do not cross into each others borders. Vampyres cannot kill other Vampyres so theyll often hire Wearbeasts, whose claws and teeth are imbued with a natural toxin that is exceptionally harmful to their kind, and who have acute instincts to hunt them. Together, Tazza and Tundror spend years traveling the realm in search of citizens to help and beasts to hunt.


One spring day many moons later, Tundror met with a representative from the Western Myst wherefrom Vampyres hail. The two gathered at the Toadstools, considered neutral territory. The old pale creature spoke of a brother of theirs who had exiled himself in search of dark magic. Vilas, his name, was said to have killed and drank the blood of a Hollowmux, a very rare and dark mystic beast that roamed the shores of The Quantum Shadow. The process of which had quickly sent him into a craze of killing helpless goblins, toads, humans, and many farm animals of the surrounding region. These rogue, Blood-Sick Vampyres had become an increasing problem as nearby villages were growing more frightful of their kind, pleading that the Western Wizards come and eradicate them. As tensions rose, the Vampyres knew they needed this problem dealt with swiftly and effectively. The elder asked Tundror for his help. He accepted.

Vilas was last seen heading south-east of Goblin Town. Tundror and Tazza tracked his movements by seeking reported sightings and killings that matched the description given to him by the old and desperate Vampyre. This path eventually brought him to a small merchant camp not far from the The Great Owl Obelisk, an ancient relic of the wizards that have long kept peace in the realm.


That night as he wrote in his journal, he heard distant screams from the monument. He sprung out of his tent to a moon-lit desert plane, Tazza at his side. It was a full moon, which meant that his strength was at its peak. His nose twitched. He could smell the creature. As they approached the towering Obelisk he saw a young girl flee towards him, yelling in a foreign tongue he did not even remotely understand. When he finally came upon the opening where the screams came from, it had turned eerily silent. Vilas must be here. Tazza let out a low growl. The silence instantly broke with a swift patter of feet running on sand. Behind, in front, to the left, to the right. He could not pinpoint the source of the footsteps. Without warning, a dark figure appeared almost out of thin air face to face with Tundror. His speed was astonishing. Hello, Wolf the figure croaked through sharp, crooked


Hello, Wolf the figure croaked through sharp, crooked teeth. Vilas, responded Tundror. Are you here to die, beast? Your kind taste delightful. What a treat! cackled Vilas. The Vampyre was tall, lean, and hooded in a cloak. His face pale white, stained with blood, and his eyes looked like glossy black orbs, bulging from sunken sockets. Tundror dropped his spear and the two came together in a flurry of scratching and punching. Claws drawn, they exchanged blows while Tazza circled, looking for an opening to attack. Vampyres are powerful, but Tundror knew that the magic blood of the Hollowmux had changed this particular one profoundly. Vilas was extremely fast, strong, and his nails cut deep, leaving burning fissures all over his Tundrors body. He had never fought such a worthy foe. Their battle continued almost endlessly, too fast for Tazza to keep up with. Nonetheless, she was determined


to keep up with. Nonetheless, she was determined to take down this monster that her protector was desperately struggling to subdue. Tundror felt he was losing the fight. His torso was covered in wounds and he knew he was losing too much blood to continue much longer. For the first time ever, he was truly frightened. He shouted in Canine for Tazza to flee. She ignored, continuing to circle. Vilas threw one more crushing blow that knocked Tundror back towards the ground to where the fight had began. Spear and hunting knives sprawled around him, he clutched at the sand, struggling to find something to defend himself with.


After what felt like days, Vilas smiled and called to him Oh wolf, you do not know the strength that runs through me. I am on a path to become the most powerful creature to ever roam this plane. I shall restore my species to our rightful place as rulers of these lands. I am the omen of death. The coming Vamcleric dynasty will eradicate your disgusting race from this realm. You will be the very  first of many of your brothers and sisters to perish at my hand Every creature I feed upon grows my inconceivable power he barreled on.

Tazza saw this self-righteous monologue as her chance to strike. It was now or never. She leapt to Vilas leg, teeth drawn, knowing the fate that Tundror faced if she did not succeed. Wolf teeth, like werebeasts, is toxic to Vampyres. Her sharp fangs dug deep into Vilas calf, bringing him to one knee in such agony that he could barely let out a desperate gasp for air. She tore away, taking with her a chunk of tendons, muscle, and tissue from the villains now crippled leg. In that same moment Tundrors hunter instincts overcame his exhaustion. His prey was wounded and this may be his last chance to strike. In one swift movement he kicked up his spear from the ground into his right hand, drawing far back over his shoulder and channelling all his remaining beastly strength. He pulled forward, thrusting the spear in the direction of Vilas. In a fraction of a second, the heavy javelin finds Vilas heart, piercing effortlessly through his chest and back. The blow sent him flying off his feet before he had a chance to swipe at Tazza. With a loud crash his body collided with the Great Owl Obelisk, the mangled Vampyre letting out a violent cry that ripples across the still sands of the southern desert.


As Tundror walked towards him, his form slouched against the dark wall of the monument, he gasped one final quiet and raspy exhale. His pale started to turn dark and grey, cracks sprawling from head to toe. In a matter of seconds, his body crumbled into a pile of bone and ash, quickly carried off amongst the sand in a light wind. Tundror lets out a sigh. Gods be damned, that was close.

He limped over to the pile of bones, noticing that the wall of the Obelisk had a small crack formed where the spear and body of Vilas had landed. As he knelt down to take a closer look, he could see some of the Vampyres Blood was dripping from the cracks, the only blood of his foe left, he noticed. The rest had all evaporated along with his remains shortly after his final breath. The blood vibrated, flowing from the crack as if the monument itself were bleeding. Before his eyes, the crimson liquid turned first to black, then a deep shimmering purple illuminated by the white light of the moon. This cant all be Vilas blood, he thought. Before long, the pool had grown around where he and Tazza stood. He felt himself fading from the loss of blood. He was covered in deep cuts, wondering if he would make it out alive after all. After a handful of deep, long deep breaths, Tundror collapsed unconscious against the cracked wall of the Obelisk. Tazza yelped, jumping to his side and licking his wounds.


He dreamt of a purple diamond-shaped crystal suspended in the sky with the backdrop of five moons surrounded by stars and cosmic dust. He heard what sounds like the howling of a thousands wolves. The light of Ether is with you, Tundror. Wake wake Greatness awaitswake The voice of a woman faintly echoed through the loud calls. When he finally woken, he jumped to his feet, wincing at the bright moon above and remembering everything that just took place.

Tazza was nowhere to be found. His eye quickly found his spear, which looked very different than before. The weapon, which was previously a very battered and scarred piece of old wood, was now long and smooth with a slight amber sheen. It was wrapped in a blue ribbon that hugged the shaft and feathered near the tip. The once stone arrowhead now appeared to be a glowing purple crystal of a similar shape. Confused, he looked around him in panic. Tazza! he called out, remembering his familiar is missing.


Hearing a distant bark in response, he and sighed in relief. From behind the Obelisk, Tazza emerged with a curious look on her face. His eyes widened as he saw that she was much bigger than before. At least twice the size. Her fur had turned to a deep, almost black purple. Her eyes, teeth and claws were glowing with a soft purple hue. He could feel it himself, more power than he had ever felt before on a full moon, radiating through the staff up into his hands and arms. With his left hand open, he stared in disbelief as the lines of his palm illuminated with dark light. There was magic coursing through them, he thought. Tazza then looked up to the moon and let out an echoing howl, the loudest Tundror had ever heard from a wolf. He watched her in silence, closed his fist with a wry smile, and began to walk slowly back towards his camp.


Archmagus Iprix of the Tower

> Archmagus Iprix of the Tower? The wizard whose centuries have made him kinder rather than colder.  A claim few can make. Who has seen the dark of the world, and believes it is joy that makes this world yet tolerable. Yes, I know him...and Im proud to say it.

>You know he uses black magic.

>Black magic? My boy, if you see only in black and white, you will never understand the world. That man has done more good with black magic than many have ever done with white.

>Another heckler: If hes so strong, why is he such a nerd?

>Old Wizard: Because he knows that which you do not. That the ability to be kind is a show of the greatest strength of all.


Enchanter Atlas of the Dunes

# Without question, the most local of thirst-quenching establishments in Goblin Town is the Scolt Head of Rune. It is a tav'rn like nay other. Open to serve, since forever and a day, under the intoxicated gaze of the Enchanter Atlas of the Dune.

# All beings are welcome for a glass of fine ale, so long as they abide by  one universal convention; that war remains at the door. As behind the  guise of this unassuming young ser, is the strength of an ox & the patience of a sun cat.


Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow

# The Legend of Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow

Deemed too evil for hell, this wizard upon death was given the Solar Staff in exchange for his promising to never die again.

Adept Hellspawn from the Shadow emerged back into the world and raised an army, toppling towns and cities and eventually settling down in a large compound where his cult following tends to his every whim on fear of retribution of his pet snake, Juicy.


Wraith Devout Zorko of the Spooklight

# The Lore of Wraith Devout Zorko of the Spooklight

Legend has it that during nights with deep fog around Goblin Town, the Wraith of Zorko can be spotted wandering around the bridge right outside. No one knows what he wants with this world.

Do not travel alone outside of Goblin Town during foggy nights. Unless you're looking for more than fog.


Adept Casper of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Adept Casper of the Cosmos

Casper was born into this world so he can unite crypto community through the Cosmosverse. His secret? his magic IBC wand...


Celeste of the Atheneum

# The Lore of  Celeste of the Atheneum


Celeste was born to a working family in the heart of the Red Wizard capital. Always free-minded and strong-willed she learned at an early age that her words could easily scorch others. So she held her tongue to contain the fire from burning hearts. Though her skill with enchantment was innate, the intensity of the power kept her fearful of herself and distant from others during her youth. Worsened yet by the death of her father which made her swear off magick entirely as she blamed herself for years on end. However, luck would not be on her side for this wish; as we all know a Wizard cannot so easily give up their gift. A dark entity saw this as an opportunity to gain a foothold into this world; awaiting the perfect opportunity to take control of Celeste. Subtlely using her magick without her awareness to eliminate any joy within her life. Her family quickly lost status among the other Red Wizards and her mother often left her at the


Red Wizards and her mother often left her at the Atheneum for free child care. Many years would pass and Celeste could not shake her curiosity for books. Finding them as one of the only escapes from the loneliness of being a non-magick user who seemed to be surrounded by pain and suffocated by guilt. As she read, this demon that attached itself to her absorbed countless teachings from masters seldom remembered who created runes long forgotten. Until the fateful day came. The eve of her fathers commemoration. This is when the demon chose to attack, revealing its true form and its cultivated power. Howbeit, when the demon came out of hiding the many years of secret knowledge Celeste absorbed and it buried within her mind was now hers as well. An intense battle raged on in a timeless space for many days, both unable to best the other. Celeste, feeling more powerful than she has ever felt in her life, eventually found the answer to this


in her life, eventually found the answer to this riddle. Burn the demon with the truth, combating the cold lies it spread in her head. Now easily outmatching her foe, she was left with power, anger, and a choice. Scatter this demons intelligence into the void and give up her Magick for good or let it win allowing it to spread turmoil across the land while retaining the feeling of self-worth she so desperately searched for. Never holding anyones belief above her own she constructed a third answer, not found in any story from the Atheneum, out of pure revolt against the destiny others would set for her. She reclaimed her fate and title of Wizard in the aftermath of that battle as she was able to entrap the demon in her white rat; cursing it to tell the truth whenever she asks. No longer fearful of her power, she says she only survived that day not because of her scarred heart, but because of hope. Hope, that one day she would


because of hope. Hope, that one day she would feel the self-Love she thought died with her father. Celeste is now traveling the lands helping others create new ways of battling the darkness finding bits of self-Love along the way.


Archmagus Iprix of the Tower

Iprix shuffled through his papers.

Mamo, muma, zambo

He muttered to himself.

Where are you, where did you go?...

Papers fell to the floor as Irprix shuffled around his office, searching for an
item that had escaped him. His crow, watching sharply by, took to the air from a nearby desk. In its wake, papers floated gracefully down, winding this way and that before landing softly on the wooden boards.

Ah! Leo, thank you.

He leaned towards the revealed paper.

I knew you were here...Gotcha!

Standing up straight as if addressing an audience, Iprix held the paper in front of him and chanted the dancing script scrawled across the paper. Seconds later, his hands began to shake. The paper, freed from his frozen hand, drifted lazily to the ground as Iprix exploded in a puff of grey powder.

Leo cawed, shaking dust from his head and ebony wings.

Moments later, the form of Iprix began to flicker. As if being generated from the inside of a computer, his form flitted in and out of existence as if cast on a buggy screen. Eventually, a rather sick look on his pale face, Iprix stood once again in the haphazard office.

With one hand on his stomach, he addressed the crow.

Well, I guess that's the benefit of immortality....still never gonna get used to it though, to be quite honest..

A knock resounded on the heavy wooden door of the tower. With a start, Iprix snapped his head towards the sound. Leo shifted side to side, and Iprix glanced at the bird. Leo took off to land on his perch, gazing steadily towards the door.

Another knock.


Another knock.

Iprix set aside his long-sought sheaf and made his way towards the door. At the top, there were a series of latches, far too many than most would think useful, but nonetheless virtually covering the right side of the door with their clasps and locks.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Iprix: All right, just hold on, these things take time you know...

At last the last latch releases at the bottom of the door. Iprix draws a breath and squeaks the door open a few centimeters.

Yes?

A sturdy figure, much taller than Iprix, gazed down at him.

Iprix: Well its bad manners you know, not to introduce yourself.

The figure grew impatient, but complied with his wishes.

I'm Agnor.

Iprix waited. Agnor said nothing further. Throwing open the door, Iprix gestured inwards.

Well Agnor, in you go then. Introductions have been made...

Agnor stepped inside, the burden of his weight creaking the floorboards of the old
room. His head towered above Iprix, and his eyes darted around the ancient tower.
Iprix, turning his back to him, shuffled back to behind his desk and gestured towards Agnor.

Would you care for tea? An elderberry juice? Leo can fetch you some stardew if you like...
He gestured towards the window as the crow shifted on it's perch.

Agnor stood silently in the entrance, his figure quite out of place in the tiny oasis filled with books and papers, old manuscripts and dust settling quietly through small rays of sun and shadow.

You don't look like...

I belong here?


You don't look like...

I belong here?

Well, I wouldn't put it that way, you're just a bit, uh, bigger than most people around here...or, most...

Iprix looked up at Agnor.

...people.

A split second passed and Iprix gestured towards a bench along the entryway, resuming some slight shuffling of papers.

Please, sit, sit.

Agnor didn't move.

Iprix continued his busywork as he attempted to take his guest's silence in stride.

...or stand, eh, if you prefer...

He smiled gingerly.

A flash of light bolted through the window and Agnor's hand shot to the huge broadsword at his side. Leo's eyes glowed red.

Iprix: Oh, ah! I wouldn't recommend that.

In the silence that followed, Agnor studied the tiny cleric. Iprix continued, pacing slightly in the space between his desks. He motioned with his hands.

It's not a good idea, you see...the place is outfitted with a magical ceiling...magnetic, really..so you see, it's uh, not a good idea because you take out that sword and woop!

He pointed up.

Up it goes! Heh, heh...

Agnor stared at Iprix.

I was sent here.

Iprix clasped his hands at his waist.

Oh, that is interesting. We don't get many visitors. It's true, some are sent, though not often do they arrive under such mysterious circumstances.

His eyes tured obsidian black and his figure stiffened, staring into Agnor as if channeling black magic.

What do you seek? Why have you come?

Agnor stepped back.

Iprix's eyes cleared and he leaned forward, giggling slightly to himself.


Iprix's eyes cleared and he leaned forward, giggling slightly to himself.

Just a joke, always wanted to say that.

He shuffled out from behind his desk.

Please, sit.

Agnor moved for the first time since entering. Planting his great figure upon the old wooden bench, he seemed to defrost some for the first time, though he watched the cleric with renewed caution. Iprix advanced, placing a cup of tea next to his giant hand. It steamed cheerfully in its dainty porcelain cup, seated upon an equally dainty saucer. Agnor's hands could barely hold both, and he appeared more like a man playing dress up as he attempted to sip from the thin edge.

I was told you were an archmagus.

Through his resumed shuffling, Iprix humored his new friend's curiousity.

Oh yes, yes I am an archmagus. The old one passed away some time ago.

Agnor studied him.

What happened?

Oh, nothing really. I mean not nothing, but really it was silly. He taught me everything I know..

Agnor waited while Iprix's mind wandered off, seeming to look for something else again.

Oh! Uh, we were doing an immortality spell and it went a bit wrong. If you want to be immortal, you see, you have to drink from the goblet of immortality *before* you die...he was rather absentminded though, he forgot one of the steps, and...

He shrugged his shoulders, making a face and gesturing in the air with one finger.

That was the one!

Agnor watched the wizard, unsure if he was growing more dangerous or simply crazier by the minute.

Iprix: So I'm archmagus here now. Poor old chap. I'm sure we'll see him again though.


Iprix ceased his frenetic searching and looked up calmly at the warrior, his inquisitive eyes and dramatic mustache curving up in a friendly smile.

So! How can I help?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The journey had already been long. Days had turned to weeks had turned to the counting of the moon cycle to keep track of time. The party was tired, and the onus of their journey remained beyond their grasp. Close enough to continue, but far enough to want to go home.

Iprix was unaccustomed to the traveling life. Never one to be a spoilsport, he
soldiered on with the best, though his robes had long been sullied by the dirt and
mud and there was a most unfortunate tear from a snag on a rosebush he had simply
wanted to enjoy. Who knew they were vicious.

A band of four- Iprix, an artificer, a young boy they had picked up along the way and Gomorrah - known as an evil one. No one was certain of Gomorrah's motives, but so far he had proved useful to the quest, and a dangerous ally in a pinch.

POOF!

With a startled shout from Iprix, he vanished into dust. In the moments he reappeared, the boy looked up at him in wonder.

Boy: So you are immortal..!

Irpix stared down at him in horror.

My boy, did you...?

Boy:...I wanted to know.

Iprix looked from the boy to the group to the boy to his cup and then back to the boy.

I...I...

He grasped for words.

...I'm walking away now.


I...I...

He grasped for words.

...I'm walking away now.

As Iprix stormed off to regain his composure, Gomorrah acted. Sweeping the boy from his feet by his neck, he dangled him off the side of the high plains, the cliff below dropping off into nothingness.

The boy screamed as Gomorrah held him fast.

Gormorrah: Shall we see if you're immortal??

The boy writhed and twisted, attempting to release himself from Gomorrah's grasp
while simultaneously clutching on Gomorrah's wrists for dear life.

I didn't mean it! I...I, please! I'm sorry, I didn't, I, ahhhhh!!....Please!

His feet pawed the empty air below him, the cliffs sheer face offering little comfort to those without wings.

Gomorrah watched at tears streamed down the boy's face. In an instant, he lifted him back over the ledge and threw him down in a heap. A huff of steam escaped his flared nostrils as he snorted in disgust.

Gomorrah strode towards Iprix and the rest of the group on the other side of the
clearing as the boy sobbed on the ground.

It wasn't the consequence he would've chosen, but it seemed Gomorrah had made his point. Chiyo watched the cleric's troubled face.

I admit I've never seen anyone kill for curiosity. Are you starting to regret not leaving him behind?

Iprix pushed himself forward, starting off on the long road.

A little.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[Scorch the Pyromancer sees the group from the entrance to his pit. He doesn't have anything to do with the group or the journey, but as an observer he's often aware of goings-on.]


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A battle raged.

The group had neared its destination. As the danger grew more intense, the
heaviness in the air had been steadily increasing. The last days had fanned into
flame and chaos, little sleep and greater dread. Gomorrah had remained on the battlefield, his hearth and home being brimstone and fury. Iprix had remained on watch, magic encircling their camp, and the artificer was away on reconnaisance. The boy and his slingshot remained at the camp, afraid and with his magic not yet easily controlled, a mix of sparks and awkward incantations that occasionally hit their mark.

He had ventured out to forage. Magical food was only good for so long, it fed the
spirit more than the body. Crawling over hill and stone, he hunted what game he
could find. The battle had been spewing over the southward field, and he was cautious to remain beyond the fringes of the fighting. Being captured would only make matters worse.

At once, the edifice behind him erupted. A shower of sharp stone and black earth rained down around him as shouts and screams filled his ears. Disoriented, with the shriek of steel on steel and the thunder of dark magic, he threw himself to the ground and crawled beneath the nearest crag. At once, Gomorrah's face was on the ground beside him. Thrown down by an adversary, a glowing orb clutched near his chest, Gomorrah's eyes lit with recognition. He threw the orb towards the boy as he was lifted from the ground.


The yelling and fighting abated. As the boy hugged the orb, face dry but rocking slightly back and forth, the air cleared. As quickly as it had vanished, the silence returned. After what seemed an age, he climbed out into the emptiness. No sign of Gomorrah. No sign of anyone. Just ash and smoke curling upward from dark scars that had been carved into the earth.

A ringing, faint at first and growing into a cacophanous noise that boxed his ears, enveloped his head as the creeping warmth of faint made everything slowly go dark.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Iprix's tower was a mess. A mess outside of the usual mess. The electromagnetic force that had swept through the otherworlds had reset many parameters and upset others. Iprix, like others, had been returned to their origins - Iprix to his tower, the boy to the village...others journeyed further forward, to their destinies. It wasn't the first time Iprix has seen a reboot spell, and it was a similarly unpleasant experience as being reboot himself.

There was a knock on the door. Iprix sighed. How was one ever to get through an eon of spells when one keeps getting interrupted?

A flash from his wand and the magiclock on the door disengaged. Sometimes the human ways were fun, sometimes the wizard ways were more convenient.

The boy stepped in.

Iprix studied him.

You've come a long way.

The boy seemed nervous, tired.

Please, sit.

A wave from his hand and Leo, awkwardly squawking, retrieved the teapot and delivered
it unceremoniously in his talons.

Ah, Leo...I do appreciate the effort but I think we have to work on this.

Iprix glanced back at the boy.


Iprix glanced back at the boy.

He's an absolute marvel, more skilled than I by far...but tea is not his thing.

The boy studied Iprix's face.

Do you know what happened?

Iprix: Ah.

He put down his tea and put his hands on his lap.

I do.

He watched the emotions flicker across the boy's face.

Are you well?

Yes, yes.. or I think so. Yes, I'm fine. But I don't understand.

Iprix: Ah! Well, there are a great many things in this world to not understand! Luckily, I can explain. First, I'm glad you're well. I knew you made it to the village, and I wondered when you would come.

You knew I was in the village? How?

Well, the vantage point from up here is quite good...high tower and all...plus, you know -

He pointed towards himself and shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"Archmagus."

Anyway, we were pulled from the battle by what's known as a reboot spell. An
incantation that resets the world to a past point in time, but with certain modifications. What those modifications are is unknown, but we've been sorting through trying to figure that out.

He gestured towards Leo.

It hasn't been easy, so I'm glad you're here. Three minds are certainly better than two!

He stood and shuffled back towards his desk.

I hope you've brought food in that bag - we're going to need it! Heh heh...

Iprix turned and saw the boy standing, holding a glowing blue orb. He dropped his tea cup.

Oh no....

Tears filled the boy's eyes.


Oh no....

Tears filled the boy's eyes.

He trusted me with it. I don't know what it is, I don't know what it does...but he
trusted me with it.

Tears streamed down his face.

He gave it to me before the reset, or whatever it was.

Eyes squinting shut, he bowed his head down.

They took him...

Iprix walked cautiously towards the boy and the orb.

There, there...

Iprix covered the orb in the cloth it had been cloaked in.

Let's just put that away for now...we'll keep it safe here. We'll just, uh, set it
aside for now...

He looked around at the haphazard room.

Uh, we'll leave it here, in this drawer...where it won't, heh, roll away..

Shutting the drawer, he returned to the boy.

Tell me what happened.

Boy: I don't know. Gomorrah, he gave it to me..I was hunting and somehow the
battle found me. I don't know what happened, I didn't even know where he was,
but suddenly he was next to me and threw me the orb...they must have thought he
still had it because they took him away. I didn't see him anymore after that. I
didn't see anything after that.

He bowed his head again.

I don't know why he trusted me.

Iprix studied him, watching the emotion flicker across the boy's face.

It would seem it was trust well deserved.

He stood up.

But you don't worry about Gomorrah! The old goat has business. Destiny in fire...
Wherever they took him, you can be sure its where he wants to be.


He paused. How people change was perhaps the one thing in the runiverse that still seemed to surprise him, yet it was also the one thing that made things worth hoping for.

Meanwhile you - you have a destiny as well. Do you know what that is?

The boy looked up through drying tears.

Iprix smiled cheekily.

You have a destiny, and except for the time you murdered me I think you'll do
great things.

The boy smiled, a half-laugh escaping his lips.

How do I find it?

Iprix patted the boy's shoulder.

You look.

What about the orb? What is it? What does it do?

Oh, you don't worry about that. This looks like, ah, a run-of-the-mill orb...just
a regular time, uh..thing - nothing to worry about. Would you like more tea?

No, thanks, I should be getting home.

Irprix tried to hide his relief. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions and the orb's presence weighed heavy in the air.

Another time then. You're most welcome. And I'm glad to see you're well. Maybe our, uh, tea service will improve next time you return. Tell your mother hello!

The heavy door groaned shut.

Approaching the drawer in which he had secreted away the orb, Iprix opened it as its blue light emanated from the sides of the cloth. Leo spread his wings, shifting from side to side and cawing ominously.

Iprix stared at the glowing orb, agreeing with his agitated familiar.

Yes, we have a problem.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Yes, we have a problem.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a spring day when Ekmira entered the tower. A fan of sun and wind, light
and plants, she didn't prefer to spend much time in the dingy dusty corners of the
runiverse's old buildings, but necessity brought her today. Her white robes caught
at the corners of the wood staircase and swept away cobwebs as she ascended the tower.

The door at the top was open. Upon hearing no response to her inquiry, she pushed
the door open.

As the door squeaked open on its tired hinges, Iprix - humming along happily thrumming through his old stacks of paperwork - turned to see a witch standing in the doorway.

Her hair swept down over nimble shoulders, her large hat only partially covering a
friendly face that seemed to illuminate from within.

Iprix dropped his papers.

Oh! I, oh.

He scrambled to catch the sheafs as they fell to the floor.

Oh! Ah, haha...

Catching them up in an unceremonious heap, Iprix hugged the papers with both arms as he stood to address her.

I, uh, hello!  Uh, how can I, um, assist you? Please..

He gestured with one hand, half of the papers flopping once again to the floor.

Uh, please sit.

He glanced at Leo.

Can I offer you tea?

No, thank you.

Coffee? Mandrake - I mean, mango juice? Koolaid?

Iprix clumsily caught the corner of his desk as he rushed to put his scrolls away.

Ekmira hid a slight smile.

Leo can run,..or, rather, ha, fly out for whatever you like...


Leo can run,..or, rather, ha, fly out for whatever you like...

Iprix paused to regain his composure, one hand on his desk and the other on his hip.

Anyway, why were you here again? I mean...

Ekmira smiled.

I don't need anything, thank you. But it seems we have business.

Really?

It would appear...

She paused.

There was a magus who passed through who went unaccounted for several days later.
Disappeared and no one knows where. Since you know the area, and everyone in it, I
thought you might know something.

Iprix stuttered, his breath which he didn't even realize he'd been holding all
coming out at once.

..I'mmm sorry I what? I know everyone?

She studied him.

Yes, you're the archmagus. Of..the tower?

Ohhh, right - I mean, yes. I, yes I am. Indeed. So you needed what again?

Information on a missing person.

Yes! That's it. I can help....just let me get organized...

Iprix shuffles through his usual stacks, knocking over a large stack of books as he attempts to clear desk space. Ekmira watches, amused.

I'll come back another time. Perhaps we'll set a meeting. I've caught you off guard, I'm sorry.

No! No..no problem at all..just, just a bit taddy here, that's all, not normally like this...but just, you know, very busy lately....

Of course.

Iprix stops sorting and looks up.

Ekmira: I'll come back.

Great.


Ekmira: I'll come back.

Great.

As the door closes behind Ekmira, Iprix stares at the closed door and then lets out a breath, leaning on the table. Leo hops up and down gleefully, flapping his wings in amusement. He flies to Iprix's shoulder, training his beady eye to study Iprix's face as he turns to face his familiar.

What?

Leo flaps away, hopping up and down the desk as Iprix falls into his chair.


Adept Shigenjo

# The Lore of Adept Shigenjo

Shigenjo was never a stationary wizard.  The world was his oyster, and he made a name for himself as a traveler with many skills. In fact, most wizards just referred to him as Adept Shigenjo because he was good at everything and didnt associate himself with any place. Dark magic, light magic, pyromancy, cooking, cleaning, football, making sweet love, Shigenjo could do it all. He made friends with many locals from across the runiverse, from Zaros Oasis all the way to the Alchemists Archipelago. Everyone would always say Oh Shigenjo, youre so cool, why dont you stay with us and do all your cool activities with us forever? And to this Shigenjo would always respond Nah, I aint got no time for that. Ive got more wizards to impress. So off he went, with his faithful rat, to go impress wizards across the countryside.

Shigenjo is the man.


Archmagus David of the Citadel

# The Lore of Archmagus David of the Citadel

The citadel was overrun by an inexplicable plague.

Whilst the majority debated whether or not they should mask up and quarantine ... the citadel simply fell apart.

One of the few spared by the plague'stight grasp was the Archmagus David. He toiled late nights in his chambers trying to find a cure when a book magically opened to a chapter detailing the benefits of an ancient Caduceus staff, which could be summoned with a simple spell. The staff was said to relieveanyone from the plague'saffliction.

Upon learning the spell, David immediately summoned the magical Caduceus staff and put it to work ... and just two days later he had done it. He had cured everyone in the citadel.

This all came to a crash when he woke the next morning to an eerie silence. Venturing through the citadel ... he saw bodies on the floor lifeless. It seems everyone he had cured had died.

The silence finally broke with a sharp laughter when a demon appeared. It explained that it had created the Caduceus staff and cursed it for his own entertainment. "Thank you David this was delectable" were the demon's last words as David struck him down.

With blood on his hands ... he leaves the citadel to try and redeem his foolishness. For now, only time will tell.


Archmagus Casper of the Keep

# The Lore of Archmagus Casper of the Keep

Casper comes from a long family lineage of Archmagus. However, after losing his rune and simultaneously his way at a young age, he is unaware of this lineage. Specifically his Archmagus sister whose name, unbeknownst to him, bares the same first letter.

_Has he even ever felt comfortable in the Keep?_

Politically unaffiliated as noted by his lack of hat, Casper has shown affinity towards the Blue Hats, partially due to his own blue hair but also after uncovering his own love of perusing the largest libraries and acquiring the newest technology while honing his spell casting craft. He has his share of weaknesses but his strengths arent hard to find.

Casper oddly finds himself most comfortable while dwelling on islands. Notably, during his years of trying to master the arcane art of invisibility while on Aldos Isle, he often awoke from a beach side slumber to his now rat companion now namedblue rat friend. Because of blue rat friends affinity of fruits, Casper began his interest in using her scraps to create potions of often unepic proportions.

(One fun fact, Casper believes his lack of understanding invisibility at a young age, that its possible his rune is right there, he just cant see it.)

But learning who he is and where he comes from is the weight upon his shoulders. Despite his Blue Hat appeal, he sometimes finds his mind lingering on politics and wealth. Perhaps once there was a Red Hat above the head on those shoulders. Could that explain why his potions all end up purple?


Enchanter Arabella of the Wild

# The Lore of Enchanter Arabella of the Wild

Most people dont get my art. What they dont realise is, _they_ are my art. _ Arabellas offhand remark to a Calista art critique._

Just like the art she creates, Arabellas impression is subjective. If shes happy, anyone who beholds her work will leave whistling, a spring in their step! If shes depressed, then the art will darken the mood of those who look upon it, leading them to the edge of a cliff or willingly into the lair of a dangerous beast.

She was once heard to say that she adored the theatre.

Theres no theatre here in Alessars Keep. a bystander responded, to which she waved her hand about the crowded square.

Why, these are my actors. Now, dance for me goblin boy. The bystander promptly hunched and performed a ghastly jig before toppling into a fountain.

Catching a glimpse of Arabella is rare, and just like her black cat familiar, once she has crossed your path you may find luck (good, or otherwise) comes your way.

Who can say what whim she acts on. Some believe that its her crystal skull which counsels her. Others argue that Arabella does as she pleases and the skull is her first work of art; a former lover trapped for eternity with an unsettling crystal grimace.

Being enchanter of the entire wild, can be tiresome. As such, she grants Diana the Enchanter jurisdiction over the rivers. Arabella acts like its a favor, but in reality were she to have power over absolutely everything, shed have no time to indulge in yoga; and without those quiet moments of reflection, theres no telling what twisted art she might unveil next.


Enchanter Diana of the River

# The Lore of Enchanter Diana of the River

Its a dry, droughty, dusty day! Drink deep, drink down! _ Diana convincing travellers to refill their flasks at a roadside spring._

Dianas greatest advantage as an enchanter comes from her reach. Just like the river, her charm meanders to spill from springs and be drawn from wells; to be boiled in broth or clashed in cups.

Few ever discover they have been under her spell. A drunk who blames the wine for some foolish deed, could perhaps blame Diana. A fat lord whose soup is poisoned, might have riled her at some point.

Her familiar is a hummingbird called Thirst. It is rumored that if one should catch a glimpse of its green plumage as they drink, then they will be under the enchanters spell until the moon next wanes.

As an enchanter Diana is almost unrivaled, yet she must live in her superiors shadow. For Arabella commands all the wild, and allows Diana control over the rivers; a generosity and a slight Diana can never quite thank her nor forgive her for.

Unlike the water, Dianas aims are not transparent. None truly know what she wants, save perhaps dominion over Arabella. Perhaps such knowledge can only be gleaned from a drunkards inane rambling, or mayhap only the drowned of Dream Master Lake shall ever know.


Battle Mage Talon of the Ether

# The Lore of Battle Mage "Bell Bro" Talon of the Ether

Bell Bro is a simple man. A stable hand for his Lordship since but a boy. Magic residing in the art of seduction. A forbidden heart-throb to all who laid eyes. It mattered not his lowly birth nor position, frequent were the conquests and paramour and heartbreak. Inevitably in the game of hearts, mischief and scandal soon come to play. The favour of an heiress. Long was the affair, and long was it secret. Alas, the cloaked liaison became known to those who pry; gossip spread like plague, and not long it was until Bell Bro found himself before his Lordship. Spared was his flesh, however a life of the meme was to be punishment. 69 years of Siren's Bell deemed fit for such a lewd boy.

May the Lore stand the test of time as steadfast as Bell Bro's herpes.


Wild Zombie Angus of Goblin town

# Wild Zombie Angus of Goblin Town Makes a New Friend

hhhhrnnnnrhgnnrrnrrrgry

want food

find snek

snek food

eat snek

now bone snek liek angus

snek follow angus

angus no liek bone snek

find egg

egg food

brek egg get food

fine fuzz duk

fuzz duk mek angus slow

hed slow

bone slow

hungry slow

angus liek feel slow

angus liek fuzz duk

fuzz duk fren

angus fren

want more fren

take fren Goblin Town


Magus Herne of Alfheim

# Magus Herne of Alfheim

The freedom granted by wealth cannot be understated. No more toiling in trade routes, bickering with merchants, or suffering the incessant whining of those in my employ.  My estate is secure and self-sufficient.

I now have the means to dedicate my time to a higher purpose...

The Hunt


Pyromancer Davos from the Shadow

# The Lore of Pyromancer Davos from the Shadow

Forever drawn to the flame, the pyromancer was expelled from even the most disreputable of wizarding schools forcing his mother to home school him throughout most of education. However even she could not keep him on task and would often find Davos in a broom closet or horse stable after many hours of searching, just him and whatever kindling he could rustle up.

It was no surprise then that at the age of 15 he packaged himself away in a chest and shipped himself to the shadows where he could be closest to his one true love, the flame.


Sorcerer Faiz of the Wild

# The Lore of Sorcerer Faiz of the Wild

Faiz was born as a commoner on a ranch to rancher parents. During his younger years, he spent many days alongside his father, who ventured into the city walls in order to sell the meat and skins that they produced on the ranch. Faiz was always fascinated by the sorcecers that passed through the stall in the market and headed towards the mysterious tower lingering in the distance.

When he reached adulthood, Faiz asked his rancher parents to finance his education at the college of sorcecers, as his interest in all things magical and sorcerers never let go of him. Selling off most of their cows and pigs, the parents managed to accumulate enough capital to send Faiz to study to become a sorcerer.

After graduating from the college, Faiz decided to spend his time studying animals and the wilderness, where he headed off to shortly after leaving the city. Remembering his knowledge of animal handling learned from his father on the ranch and the neawly learned sorcery, Faiz stayed in the wild for year - in fact so much time that he lost track of time himself. Rumours in the city only refer to him as a lonely sorcerer living in the wild, thus earning him the name Sorcerer Faiz of the Wild.


# The Lore of Cosmic Mage Cromwell of the Platonic Shadow

Cromwell was raised on a remote farm deep within the Black Forest. At around 12, his latent magic abilities emerged. Shortly after, his parents disappeared, and he was left to raise himself.

After a few weeks, a talking sphynx named Rojhur appeared and helped him survive a few seasons before encouraging him to explore the outer world.

Rojhur and Cromwell went on some fantastic adventures, and they started to become renowned for their raw ability, high integrity, and very innocent curiosity. They were also both somewhat childish, petty, and relatively uneducated.


Sage Eden

**Part Ten**:

The Old Koopling Cemetery was truly an old place.  The Kooplings themselves were a very ancient race, and the cemetery was created when
they were young.  The stone work on the graves carried a particular magic that is said to be indestructible.  It was nestled down a path off the main road that Eden took.  A mist enveloped the gates.  The trees hung heavy and broad over the site, darkening it even in mid day.

The wizard, pony and hummingbird stood before the misty gates.  Eden spoke.
"Well now, here we are.  The Kooplings are a kindly race though I dare not tread on their good will.  This place has opacity and ominousness.
We will wait here at the gate for the burned Corvid."

At noon exactly, they heard a metal gate creek open.  The Corvid soul appeared out of the mist, tombstones lined up behind him.
"Eden, Moe, and fellow bird, good afternoon.  This is my home.  Well it is close by.  Follow me."

As always, intuition guided Eden's heart.  Surprisingly, there was nothing off-putting about this stranger.  And so they followed him.
A massive Oak tree rose out of the center of the cemetery; it barely looked alive.  The leaves were brown and the bark blackish.  At the base of the trunk there was a door.  The Corvid opened it, and the party descended down a staircase in darkness.

**Part Eleven**:

"Eden, that compromised Corvid gatekeeper was planning to kill you and take the pony." Said the burned Corvid soul.


He paused and sat still looking at the three companions before him.  They were beneath the tree, beneath the The Old Koopling Cemetery,
in a place that resembled a fine wine cellar.  Along the walls were vials and herbs and artworks; nooks with books and music playing quietly from somewhere.

Eden said nothing.  Moe looked at him anxiously, the hummingbird Ziggy sat on his shoulder.
The Corvid soul continued speaking.

"I am friends with one of your friends, which, I believe should make us friends as well.  Akron is a crow keeper himself, and us Corvids know much about all that flies.  We communicate with one another; we can whistle in our minds and perceive far off things.  His crow is a
wonderfully smart bird- Paco."

A moment of silence hung in the air.  Eden digesting all the new information.

"Eden, we both have dark pasts we look to be free of.  We both have futures we look to see realized.  I am a bird, and trees are our home.
Your task to find and save the greatest of all the Runiverse trees is noble, and I will help you."

**Part Twelve**:

At the edge of the cemetery where a sliver of golden sunshine pierced through the dark canopy, Eden sat on a rock and listened with headphones to classical guitar on his digital tablet.

As a transmitter and controller of light and color (unusual for a technologist), the wizard sat calmly with his face uplifted to the warm sunlight, his blue eyes closed.  Slowly the light began to move like ocean waves in the air; curling and flowing and cresting.  Shapes began to take form. In the wisps of light trees blossomed, flowers unfolded, faces made expressions, letters became words; it was the future.


On occasion, when his magic permitted, the light and color interacting with Eden portended doom or glory, love or hate, smiles or pain.
He opened his eyes and released the light.  He took a deep breath.

The Corvid soul sat nearby, respecting the Wizard's need for space.

"Is it OK if I just call you Soul?" asked Eden.

"Yes, of course, I like the sound of that." responded the Corvid.

"Soul, I trust in you.  And I will call you friend.  If our path continues as is, without significant alteration, then I shall end up burnt just as you.  Moe as well.  I am not sure about Ziggy."

Silence hung in the air.  The leaves rustled in the wind and the metal gate creaked.

"Well then, friend, what is your goal Eden?  What is this journey to the sacred tree really about?" asked Soul.

Eden sighed, thoughtfully running his fingers along the pink edging of his cloak.  Before he could speak, two riders could be heard galloping down the road towards the cemetery.  Towards them.

**Part Thirteen**:

The moon was full in the night sky.  Stars flickered.  There were no clouds and no wind.  All was still.  Eden, Moe, and Ziggy had fled from the approaching riders and Soul had retreated back into his tree home.  An intuition to run screamed at both Eden and Soul in that moment of hearing the hooves.  There was a darkness in its sound and a gentle yet malicious whisper on the air.


The Old Koopling Cemetery was a mile behind them when they stopped for rest.  Eden looked at Moe and saw how nervous he was; remembering the
fear and pain of the past road.  Eden, as forgetful as he was, remembered as well.

"My dear Moe, all is well.  Ziggy and I will keep you safe.  He'll watch the sky and I'll watch the road.  We'll reach the Tree and the shores of your father soon enough." Eden said kindly.

"Yep." said Moe with a half smile.

Beyond the road to their left was an open glade of birch trees that shimmered white under the moon.  Beyond that still was hills that climbed into lofty mountains.  The Runiverse was vast.

Eden spoke to Ziggy.

"We must leave Soul behind us and press on.  I sense we shall meet again.  A good old burnt bird he is.  No time for song now Ziggy
we must move in silence unfortunately.  Our road moves westerly, to the mountains."

**Part Fourteen**:

Eden and co. camped by a tumbling river, surrounded by wild fields full of spring flowers.  The blue wizard lounged and played a puzzle game on his tablet, whistling the afternoon away, drinking green tea and humming Bowie.

The poor forgetful wizard had completely forgotten about the two riders from The Old Koopling Cemetery (alas it would have taken some mental jostling for him to even remember Soul the burnt Corvid!).  Moe munched on some grass and Ziggy sniped the choicest nectar.


They were happy.  It was a beautiful day.  They were on an adventure worth endeavoring, and they had each other.  Eden made a fire and then cooked a simple supper for the three.  Before retiring into his tent, Eden meditated on a night sky; full of shooting stars and crescent moon.

**Part Fifteen**:

Eden awoke in his tent at dawn to the sound of his digital tablet buzzing.  On the screen was Soul the burnt Corvid.  He was in his tree home, in what appeared to be a recorded message for Eden.

Eden paused the message and groaned, still half asleep.

"I need coffee.  I did not expect this bird to wake me at sunrise.  That's a magpie's job."
He made some coffee at the fire and ate a muffin while watching the video attentively.

"Sage Eden, I thank you for your friendship, it is a rare thing for me. So, I ask these questions to myself and also to you- What is your purpose?  What do you want? And what do you fear? Let them simmer in your blue heart for a while."

Moe was awake now with Ziggy on his head.  They sat beside Eden.
Soul continued.

"By the time you see this video, I will be gone.  Those two dark riders we heard were not searching for you, alas, they were hunting burnt souls; wizards that passed through the flame and became reborn as something different.  I actually don't remember who I used to be.  I don't even remember what my name was.  Before the pain....I remember nothing."

He stopped speaking for a minute, collected himself, then continued.


He stopped speaking for a minute, collected himself, then continued.

"When they find me here I will be escorted to the Nameless ones.  It is they, or Him, that seek to destroy the sacred trees of the realm.  Of what my fate will be, I do not know.  Eden, listen to me, protect that pony; he is more precious than you realize.  The rune..." The recording ended abruptly.

The blue wizard felt sorrow.  His eyes flickered blue and his coffee turned red.

**Part Sixteen**:

It was a long day of travel for the three; making their way westward proved to be slower than expected.  Mainly this was due to Moe constantly stopping to smell flowers and reminisce.  The late day sun was comfortable and warm, and Eden would use the frequent stops by Moe as an opportunity to get some sun.  He was quite tan for an older gent, and actually fairly muscular.

A little ways down the hill before them was a cottage.  It was plain, thatched and stone, and nothing extraordinary.  A warrior strong and sturdy (as evident by his clothes and movements) was tending to a garden.  Being spring, the dirt was still open and the buds were just breaking with leaves.

Eden and co. stood on the hill near the cottage, surveying the scene.  The warrior did not pay them any mind.

"My good sir, any news ill or otherwise of these lands that you can share with a wizard, a pony, and a hummingbird!" Asked Eden with a raised voice.

The warrior gardener did not respond and continued his labor.
As rain drops began to fall and clouds moved in, Eden said no more.  As he was leaving though, the warrior spoke up loudly.

"Wine or beer?"

**Part Seventeen**:


"Wine or beer?"

**Part Seventeen**:

The salt and pepper-haired warrior tended to a fire as rain pattered on the window and Eden sat and drank wine at a nearby table.  It was a simple yet well kept abode, certainly reflective of the man who dwelt there.

Eden as always, trusted his intuition above all.  Here he felt completely safe; similar to the meeting with Soul the burnt Corvid.

"What is your quest Sage?" asked the warrior without looking up from the fire.

"To find the Great Magical Magnolia Tree, to save it and us, from death and torment." Eden responded flatly.
The warrior replied,

"There has been word in the grapevines.  Word of a deceptively powerful blue wizard and a pony, traveling in these parts.  Word also that different forces seek to help and hurt you.  You have made friends and foes.  I'll be honest, it does bother my heart to know the sacred trees are being chopped down like worthless locusts.  But,
I am retired sir, and content enough to mind my own keep and herbs."

Eden became thoughtful hearing those words, and listening to the fire was filled with melancholy.  It was night.  He felt alone as he twirled his wine glass, lost in a million thoughts.  He was trusting fate and the stars to guide him to the journey's end.

"Well I thank you for opening your doors to us sir...what shall I call you?" said Eden.

"Spirit will do, it's a nickname.  And you and your company are welcome to spend the night.  Rain seems to have picked up." said the warrior, still at the inglenook of the fire.

**Part Eighteen**:


**Part Eighteen**:

Eden and co. spent the night at the home of Spirit the warrior (which was located about fifty crow miles west of the Blue Wizard Bastion).

At midnight, Eden's joy staff awoke; radiating a yellow haze.  The light became bright and stirred Eden from a deep sleep.  Rain still fell and pattered on the roof.  He picked up the staff and raised it to the air.

The light changed color, becoming a forest green, filling the entire room.  The light morphed into the image of a tree; green and majestic with white flowers.  Behind it the light became a blue ocean.  It sparkled and flickered like a divine diamond from Eden's hand.  He knew; this was the Great Magical Magnolia Tree.

He heard a voice from his tablet.

"It's communicating with you Eden.  Or maybe I should say, she is.  The tree is calling you."

It was Akron, with that slow and melodic voice of his.
The beauty of the sacred tree brought tears to Eden's eyes.  The glorious light and color faded soon after, and all was black again in the warrior's home.


Holy Monk Drokore of the Brambles

# The Lore of Holy Monk Drokore of the Brambles

The gaze of Holy Monk Drokore is fixed

on unseen scrublands cast inside his mind.

And passing through the medium betwixt?

The sea, The Salt, the passages of time.

To what had he committed with his oath

to make the Holy appellation sing?

A life apart from homelands verdant growth -

a spirit tamed with discipline-clipped wings.

Returning now would strike as heresy

For those inclined to track ascetic vows.

But what is solitary majesty

without the peace aloofness ought endow?

Drokore much choose his emerald efforts heir:

The Great Beyond or to the Brambles fair.


Enchanter Circe of the Realm

# The Lore of Enchanter Circe of the Realm

Of Circes power all have heard renown:

To take as charge two strangers of the heart

and Eros bind them heedless of their charts -

provided you have coin when shes in town.

Soft kings buy bliss for princesses arranged;

The merchant widow strickens his past mute;

A spinster settles on her mothers brute;

Lost couples looking to rekindle flames.

But were the commerce all of Circes crimes

The land would hail it as a charity.

Instead, a fear does follow in her wake.

Benevolent, malevolent, benign -

For Circe all at perfect parity.

Your goodnight kiss: a passion of the snake.


Sorcerer Silas of the Mist

# The Lore of Sorcerer Silas of the Mist

The Seer sees beyond the curving plane.

Beyond the linen wrappings tied so long

ago that bodys basic shrivel claimed

The organs bent on justifying wrongs.

When Silas sees the tremble in your song

you musnt hide the soft and truthful half.

He knows your every contour, weak and strong

The swirling spys report on Zephyrs Laugh.

A Sorcrer sees his wolf familiars calf

Upon the hillside grazing pre-pursuit.

The natural order sorts the wheat from chaff -

her feral vision, apex resolute.

What mortal eyes do you know that can see

conclusive truth with Total Clarity?


Null Mage Jiang of the Dunes

# The Lore of Null Mage Jiang of the Dunes

Past the Oasis claimed by Zaros name,

past countless dunes reshaped as daily tasks,

there haunts a Null Mage like a fever dream.

He left the world before its charms could tame

in search of where the jaded serpent basks

for legend told it wasnt as it seems.

Twas only when the quests ambition left

did then the Mamba demonstrate its asks:

Return to lands gone rot by flesh extremes

and as the tongue does split, we joined shall cleft

regimes.


Diabolist Jastor of the Villa

# The Lore of Diabolist Jastor of the Villa

The famous Jastor _is_ Frog Master Marsh

as far as city social circles go.

But keeping up with court can treat you harsh.

He hopped himself out of the murky flow,

Anuran royalty long thought extinct,

his cousin Curtis always safe in tow.

Diabolism?? Even more distinct

to Lords and Ladies languishing in vice,

arranging plans to sate their weekend kinks.

If Villa locals only knew the price

theyll have to pay once Jastor brings the bill

theyd reconsider seeking his advice.

For all their pillow talk is tracked with quill

and in the end theyll beg for poison pills.


Enchanter Sondra of the Brambles

# The Lore of Enchanter Sondra of the Brambles

Designer-guru Sondra has her stare

on making patent leather basilisk

the latest fashion in bold wizard wear.

For what makes clothing flashy if not risk?

In warmer seasons shell from city part

to hunt her vision of next winters trend.

With rat companion Rufus close to heart

shes never lacking for a roadside friend.

Just to the south of Great Owl Obelisk

her clothing quarry sought to stop her heart.

But doomgaze sunshades cancelled out all risk

and in an hour Sondra filled her cart.

What bold enchantments shell apply to these!

Another year of Style Queen reprised.


Witch Rita of the Temple

# The Lore of Witch Rita of the Temple

She is a fair and beautiful woman originating from the quiet swamps of the south west.

She dreamed of becoming a chef and was lucky enough to attend the best cooking school in the land. She learnt to cook the finest meals from rabbit to rarebit and met many friends from high places.

Now she lives a calm life and enjoys simple exercise, fine foods and theatre. She sits in the chair that her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother sat.

She is loved by many.


Witch Sabina of the Hollow

# The Lore of Witch Sabina of the Hollow

In this world, there is a place where common sense and rules do not apply. It's a world where you can't breathe, you can't move, and there's only a glimmer of light spreading in the empty darkness. Reaching this realm is impossible for any living being from this world. Even so, all those who are said to have intelligence, dream of that place.

The traveler who wears all blue is cheerful and very easy to talk to, but she(?) gives off a somewhat hollow vibe.

"Do you still have potions for slime?"

She(?) asks. There is no such thing as an abundance of items for slimes in this age when we are struggling to survive. When I looked away, she was not there. Was I looking at her wrong, or was it a dream?

A blue witch with a mysterious blue egg.

The story is told among merchants in countries with nothing in common, from different cultures and times, and its existence has been recorded in some books.


Enchanter Qaid of the Marsh

# The Lore of Enchanter Qaid of the Marsh

Qaid dwelled in the marsh as ages came and passed, and has gone half faerie mad from consorting too closely with the fey -- and welling too long in their realm.  Qaid is rarely seen, but has been spotted close or far from the marsh, his method of transportation unknown.

What is known is that his presence portends mischief, chaos, and often a few laughs, as his magic is powerful but....wild.


Arcanist Zelroth of the Keep

# Arcanist Zelroth from the Kingdom of Lorania

Arcanist Zelroth was brilliant from an early age. Having come from a remote village, he acquired his skills on his own with no guidance. Rumors tell he was taught by the animals of the forests.
Young Zelroth worked tirelessly to hone his skills, having forsaken all trace of personal ambition for the greater good of the Kingdom. He served as an apprentice to the Keep's Arcanist. After only a few years he eclipsed his master's capabilities and was appointed as the Arcanist himself after having demonstrated novel spells and showcasing his epic accumulation of knowledge.

Zelroth is a man of honor, while still retaining a sense of danger from schemers. His passion is knowledge, but possesses poor abilities to communicate with fellow man, having dedicated himself fully to his books.


Battle Mage Magnus of the Woodlands

# The Lore of Battle Mage Magnus of the Woodlands

There was a time when the Woodlands were defenseless and vulnerable to attacks from neighboring regions. A time when village after village was pillaged and taxed tremendously but it all changed after the birth of Magnus. The son of a baker, Magnus had shown real interest in the arcane arts even from a very young age. Legend says that even before Magnus had learn to read, he was already blindly casting spells on his toys to make them levitate or grow and in one very specific telling (The Legend of the Living Rocking Horse) it is said the possessed the power to bring life to inanimate objects.

After another attack on his village and the death of his father by the hands of these raiders, Magnus swore to bring an end to the atrocities ravaging the Woodlands. He ventured into the dense forests in search for answers from the mythical Tree of Knowledge. He disappeared for years, and everyone thought he died. Families in the villages left one by one in search of safety in other countries and it seemed that the Woodlands would become a wild region without civilization. But then, when all things seemed lost, Magnus stepped out of the Forest, wielding a Staff given to him by the Tree of Knowledge. He banished the raiders and bandits from the land, wielding powerful arcane tricks and spells and became known as the Battle Mage of the Woodlands.


Artificer Axel of the Dunes

# The Lore of Artificer Axel of the Dunes

It was a dark and gloomy morning, the clock had just chimed for 7:00am, when Axel was awoken by a frantic tapping against the frosty glass of his window. It was a crow, with feathers as jet black as coal and glowing purpel eyes. Axel kicked his legs off the side of the bed, stood up and slowly walked to the window to see what the crow wanted. As Axel approached the window, he could see a glowing green light. He paused and thought for a moment. "Where have a seen that glow before?" It was then that Axel realised he was in grave danger.

The green glow had only been seen by Axel once before when he was a small child, it was the same green glow that filled the room Axel once shared with his brother, Houdini. The night Axel had last seen this green glow, was the last night he ever seen Houdini, after the glow had passed, all that was left was a jelly donut in the bed where Houdini would lie.

The crow continued to tap on the window and Axel sprung into action. He throw on his robe and grabbed his bag of tricks. He ran down the stairs and headed straight for the back door, making sure to open the door as quetly as he could before running off into the dunes as fast as he could. Looking over his shoulder as he ran, Axel could see the green glow moving to the back of his house and begin to head in his direction. He carried on running until he came to a cave where he decided to seek shelter and hide.


While Axel was looking for somewhere to hide in the cave he could see a set of purpel eyes looking at him. "GET BACK!!" Axel shouted. But the eyes came closer and closer. Axel reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out his wand, he raised it and was ready to cast a charm when he paused...... "Your the crow that warned me about the green glow" said Axel. The crow hopped onto a rock beside Axel's head and gently pecked Axel on the cheek. "Who are you" asked Axel, the crow just looked at Axel and hopped on one foot to another. "Whoever you are, I owe you my life" said Axel. He reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out a handful of corn, placed it beside the crow and watched as the crow devoured the pile.

Axel had no idea who or what the crow was, but he knew that this crow was not just a crow............

To be continued


Wild Mage Angus of the Sun

# The Lore of Wild Mage Angus of the Sun

No-one taught me how to track the sun,
to trace its fiery rays with Guillaumes broom,
to braid them through my beard. Nobody won
my loyalty. I have unending room
and time to practice. Nobody resigned
to offer me my self-appointed post
as the celestial herald. All the lines
around my eyes, self graven. More than most
I understand the patience of the craft
of cozening a star to share its gifts
with lowly beings. Often have I laughed
at my own errors. We need only lift
the veil of privacy to understand
our greatest failureswrought by our own hands.


Hedge Wizard Samael of Elysium

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Samael of Elysium

Horses ran across our field of dreams,
all dappled, grey and pink and roan and bay,
a few with bardings. Some wild. Strange. It seemed
some force had summoned them. No-one could say
where they had come from. Hardy, broad of back,
I watched their eyes. Suspicious. Some had horns,
some muttered spells. Some reared for the attack
or ran away. One got into my corn
and ate the lot. This he did soon regret,
but when I laid upon my healing hands
he calmed. I stood to mount. He said,Not yet,
and bade me follow as he left these lands.
Now with the herd I wander free as guard,
until they all range towards their final yard.


Lecherous Ghoul Aiko of the Slime Pits

# The Lore of Lecherous Ghoul Aiko of the Slime Pits

Generative force has its obverse:
the lust that seeks to terrify, destroy
its object. One misapprehends the curse,
partaking in the bright and fleeting joy
of first infatuation. When my ghost
tracks and pursues with spectral wolfish snout
and finds, I manifest as that which most
my prey desires. I hunt their secrets out
and offer them. Imagine their surprise
when, deep inside their fantasy, I find
their silver-threaded soul, and pull. Their eyes
widen a little. In a blink, I bind
them to me, gently lead them as I climb
willing, they follow me into the slime.


Wraith Deacon Lenora of the Dread Tower

# The Lore of Wraith Deacon Lenora of the Dread Tower

Nobody expects the common wraith
to yearn for anything, to have a thought
besides destruction. But each has their faith,
their treasured dreams and memories. One ought
to understandbehind the shattered plates
and soured milk, a person still exists,
still longs for something. Few believe in fate
and most wraiths trail the folk that they most missed
in life. Driven to madness by their trials,
the hunted come to me, beg for reprieve
from their pursuers. In my crystal vials
the distilled essence can tempt wraiths to leave
a futile task alone. But sometimes, no
such victims must withstand eternal woe.


Ice Mage Flynn of the Ice

# " Breath. Ponder. Act "
## .Goondi.


Druid Shigenjo of the Wood

# The Lore of Druid Shigenjo of the Wood

Shigenjo is a malevolent trickster residing in the thick forest of the Hedge Wizard Wood. He spends most of his afternoons feasting on the poisonous purple mushrooms found on the twisting canopy and his nights entertaining his Tengu friends with advanced illusionary magic. The Tengus hyena-like cackles can be heard throughout the night by passersby.

When traipsing the forest's edge, Shigenjo scoffs at sorcerers en-route to Blue Wizard Bastion. Shigenjo views their academic pursuits as a pretentious thin veil hiding their weak magic. He lures them into the dense trees with illusions of overturned staged coaches and footprints. He then entraps them and humiliates them by stripping them of their weapons and feasting on their familiar before their eyes.

Although he almost certainly releases adult wizards after his feast, many children have been lost in the Wood, never to be seen again. If you ask him, Shigenjo will deny any culpability, asserting that he himself was a child when he ascended into godliness. Yet skepticism remains, as the disappearances began at the same time he made the forest his residence.


Magus Atlanta of the Hills

# Magus Atlanta of the Hills

## A Tale of Twin Serpents II

There was once a tale of twice a Child
Of sisters Bolde as Blood
Both were Fair as they were Wilde
Yet one was Loved and one Reviled
Whence sprang from separate Bud

And though the two looked Quite the same
One was Envious, Atlanta was her name
And where she went, so slithered her Snake
And Oh! How hearts of Men did Break

For such was her Malisciousness
Well hit beneath Deceit
That none could help but fall for her
Infatutation fore long complete

Atwined her fragrant Fungus
Her Sanguine serpent would caress
So, Spirits would Mysteriously
In her wake Acquiesce

Concealed in Pouch, the swiftest Knife
The beating Heart, once strong and fast
Now inexorably void of Life


Hedge Wizard Celeste of the Rock

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Celeste of the Rock

Fairly silly, trail into the muck
and all disoriented wander towards
a little ship. You charm yourself on board
and sip your lemonade, so faintly struck
by unseen magic. Tingle on your nose
tells you that somethings up. Charging your hand
and hide it. Manners empty into sand
at certain moments. Cup that overflows
and radiating fire. Its just because
you always were a blazey child. You wish
the hearts of enemies served in a dish
turned up, rolled snake-eyes. All your prayers and awes
end at the altar. Star trembles in scope
and blessings offered animate in hope.


Witch Delilah of Arcadia

# The Lore of Witch Delilah of Arcadia

Scratch a witch, and underneath youll find
the spells nobody ventured to write down
or even talk about. The ties that bind
the threads of life together. Every town
and caravan, each windblown flock of sheep
weaves itself in. Threads woollen, green and gold
pick out such artistry that, fast-asleep
we recognise them. Stories we were told
as little children seldom come to life,
except when witches rouse, reading the signs
and portents. With my goblins flame and knife
I cut the threads that wander from their lines
and set them better, steady on their pitch:
for this, and more, do thank your local witch.


Sorcerer Jameel of the Dunes

# The Lore of Sorcerer Jameel of the Dunes

Hello there traveler! Are you out alone in these fickle times? Im sure you have a good reason for it. My name is Jameel, I journey to a fro in search of treasure. Be careful out there, there are bandits on these roads. - Sorcerer Jameel of the Dunes

Jameel is uncertain of his origins, he is not sure how he was brought into a sea of dunes and sands. Was it an errant portal? Maybe a miscalculation of mana? Perhaps it was predetermined by the Overseer of the Universe? Maybe one day he will see the sights of Dream Maser Lake or Hue Master's Pass. Jameel wants to explore the people of this Forgotten Realm so he is not disheartened.

Jameel's traveling partner is a swamp bullfrog, Trishna. Although he did not attend a prestigious wizard academy, Jameel is a natural Sorcerer. Jameel is guided by a fire rune and holds a Salamanders Tongue, therefore he is able to channel fire magic masterfully.

Generous wizards who encounter Jameel receive jolly cooperation, while greedy wizards curse him as nothing more than a trickster. At first glance his antics may appear devious, however his goal is for wizards to want only what they need. Jameel knows that greed creates conflict between social and personal goals. Clever wit sharpened by a sense of mischief Jameel is as unpredictable as the fire he controls.


Necromancer Bane of the Quantum Shadow

# The Lore of Necromancer Bane of the Quantum Shadow

The dim light of dusk had fallen upon The Thorn and ancient elm trees cast jagged shadows upon the litter as the sun set beyond below the horizon. A dark figure strode along the weather-beaten path. The forest had a foreboding mist in the air, and the energy of the Quantum Shadow seemed to follow the figure deeper into the trees.

After a time the figure stopped, lowered his hood, and scanned the ground. A dusty stone was set into the path, barely noticeable to a passerby. This was the meeting point, he was sure, but Bane was alone. His servant and Sacred Flame were nowhere to be found. He lingered a bit longer in the off chance that his carrier was merely delayed, but Bane had to keep moving. The night was young, but he had no time to wait. He needed the Flame and knew he would have to find it alone.


Sorcerer Eden of the Moors

# The Lore of Sorcerer Eden of the Moors

Sorcerer Eden is an expert potion-maker at an industrial conglomerate in the Red Wizard Capital. He rose quickly through the ranks with the unscrupulous use of his Passion Potion and currently oversees an innovative R&D lab. Any rumors about the lab are completely unfounded. Dont ask about it.

Some call the conglomerate Big Potion, but thats just propaganda spewed by Cannanite rabble-rousers bitter about declining milk sales. Theres nothing natural about drinking wizard milk anyways. Edens lab has been responsible for numerous breakthroughs, and the technology he creates makes the Runiverse a better place. After all, where would the world be without potions? Sure - profit margins have never been higher, but thats purely a function of supply and demand. Can you blame Eden for wanting to make a buck? If you had an affinity for chemistry, youd do the same thing.

In short, Sorcerer Eden uses his powers to defend the status quo, enrich himself, and advance the interests of the capital. Pretty standard stuff really.


Battle Mage Flynn of the Mount

# The Lore of Battle Mage Flynn of the Mount

In consciousness dwells the wonderous, with it man attains the realm beyond the material as well as the magical, and this Peyote tells us, where to find it.


Archmagus Eden of the Event Horizon

# The Lore of Archmagus Eden of the Event Horizon

Dont let the careless part in his overly-revealing robe or the fire that burns within his conical hat distract you, the Archmagus Eden is one bad-ish MotherHubbard.

Have you noticed the Kobolds that loiter around the Event Horizon, pestering you to buy counterfeit dragons teeth? No? That was Archmagus Eden.

Do you dare not breath as you feel the million creeping feet of the Billipede of Peril crossing your leg in the night where your grandmother hasnt finished knitting your winter blanket? No again? That was Archmagus Eden, too.

Wondering why the casks at Ye Olde Donkeys Head are often empty? Well, the Archmagus Eden has to be paid somehow! And if youre missing your pet cat, he might have it.


Runecaster Cosmo of the Villa

# The Lore of Runecaster Cosmo of the Villa

Rising from The Salt, these brothers in lore created Whale Connected and seek to support scholars around the world


Pyromancer Jay of the Psychic Leap

# The Lore of Pyromancer Jay of the Psychic Leap

Year's spent in the Psychic Leap would make any sane being forget everything they've ever known, yet for Jay it's the only place he feels at home. Days are like months, perfect for a wizard that's trying to hone his craft. So that's what Jay did. With an entire Runiverse to explore, it was time to put such practice to the test.


Thaumaturge Rita of the Brambles

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Rita of the Brambles

The door swings open violently Please, I need your help!" Rita shrieks to the store owner"There was an accident, I stepped on this poor frog on my way home! There was a crazy herd of frogs on the path like 150 frogs Do frogs migrate?? Since when do frogs migrate?!  All I heard was a loud crunch, I freaked out, and then the frog began to glow! Next thing I know, this wooden figurine was in its place. What should I do?!"

A panicked young wizard running into a building during a deluge would cause anyone to jolt. This store owner, however, showed reasonable concern, but unreasonable anger towards his surprise visitor. Do you have any idea how old that door is?! The store owner retorts. That door was hand carved by my grandfather 200 years ago! The damage you couldve caused by punching it open like that!

Rita proceeds to the nearest table to place the frog somewhere safe, more importantly, away from her. I dont believe you're striking the right tone here, I tell you this frog transformed into an idol and all you can worry about is an heirloom door?

The store owner sharply turns to Rita Are you telling me a wizard is shocked that she did something wizardry?! A practitioner of MAGIC produces a MAGICAL item? The MAGIC staff you carry is just a walking stick, eh?

Miffed by his sarcasm, Rita shakes off her hat and cloak and takes a closer look at the idol:

'The body is fully wooden...the wood looks like the trees located on the path where the... incident... took place. No special markings or runes. The eyes' "The eyes are stone! Please, can I have a light? I need to get a closer look at the"


"AMETHYST!" The store owner scares Rita as he turns up right next to her.

Rita's anxiety is rapidly growing and the guilt is weighing on her. She starts to reflect on her situation"I'm soaking wet...I killed an innocent frog who was probably on his way home after a long day of workI'm pretty sure I knocked the door handle loose, maybe the mad hatter hasn't noticed yet .."

Preoccupied by her emotional and mental descent, she doesn't notice the idol begins to vibrate. "Um, your thing is doing a thing!"The store owner urgently tries to get Rita's attention.

"I walk that path all the time the _ut siccis_ charm has never just stopped working the wood is the same as the trees on the path" Rita continues to stew.

"HEY WIZARD! IT'S CALLED AN 'ARMY' OF FROGS, NOT A HERD!"

Rita comes too, snaps her neck toward the store owner, and inhales as if she's about to roar. Before she could get a word out, she hears a faint voice

"It's ok...I'm better now"


Ice Mage Homer of the Ice

# Guest Log of Ice Hermit Homer and his Wife Trish the 'Trice

_Intricate runic inscriptions are scrawled across a piece of ashen driftwood carved in the likeness of Ogmir, the slumbering giant_

### Oberon of Heimburgsgate [2473], 7th Glacial Epoch, 69th Moon

I dont know what to write.  Scruffy McBrewmaster is telling me to write about what I learned from his potion of confusion.  Uhhh Ok.  I learned that this guy is insane.  I was told he could help me walk the ice vein way.  I think he drugged me.  This cave is kind of creepy, all the furniture is made out of dork bones.  He calls this cockatrice his wife? The guest log Im inscribing is literally just a log.  Really nice log tho, seems like ancient elf wood.

Ok, hes telling me to get serious, that this ink is magic and his log is sacred.  He trained me, I think.  My memory is woozy, but after I drank the potion I felt like I was underwater.  All of the rage I felt towards my family and my corrupt tribe the freezing water sapped it away.

Ive been trying to walk the frozen path with a fiery rage.  But why would I take the hearth fire out onto the ice, if thats what Im trying to leave behind?

Im ready to follow ancestor Dorkstaff.  I will find the edge of the world, where all the lightning trapped below the ice returns to the sky.

Hes telling me to look at the backside of the log Could it be?

### Dorkstaff Thundercrack, Serpent Season, First Eclipse

Dictated to the frosty brewer with a lizard chicken wife, for I refuse to learn any scribal foolery.


I drank the dram of spiritual icebreaking. My vision spins with icy serpents smashed beneath my staff.  Their blood spills and melts the ice.  I swim in it and it swims in me-- warm, releasing.  My progeny issue from the serpent blood spring. They are comfortable, rich.  They do not know the honesty of desolate ice, the song of cruel wind, the crack of ego-cowing thunder.

To my progeny: get icey. Shoot many lightning bolts. Beat a serpent. Puff Puff pass the magic wizards through the omniverse.

I am Dorkstaff Thundercrack.  Find me where the sun dont shine.

**Dictator's note:  Mr. Thundercrack ate all of my pengu pt before he left. Remember to lock the larder before he visits again.  Also, Trish was rather flirty around him.  Perhaps I should learn lightning bolt to rekindle our romance?**


Holy Monk Drokore of the Brambles

# The Lore of Holy Monk Drokore of the Brambles

The gaze of Holy Monk Drokore is fixed

on unseen scrublands cast inside his mind.

And passing through the medium betwixt?

The sea, The Salt, the passages of time.

To what had he committed with his oath

to make the Holy appellation sing?

A life apart from homelands verdant growth -

a spirit tamed with discipline-clipped wings.

Returning now would strike as heresy

For those inclined to track ascetic vows.

But what is solitary majesty

without the peace aloofness ought endow?

Drokore must choose his emerald efforts heir:

The Great Beyond or to the Brambles fair.


Hedge Wizard Aleister of the Tundra

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Aleister of the Tundra

Academies? Pah! Full of dusty books and dustier wizards! The world is my academy. _- Hedge Wizard Aleister, when challenged on his education._

Aleister could have received his title for a number of reasons, chiefly because he looks to have been dragged through a hedge backwards. But in truth, he is a hedge wizard of a different ilk; a wanderer of the wilds, friend of beasts and those with little sense of smell.

Raised on the tundra, Aleister cut his teeth in Hedge Wizard Wood. Mugwort, horsetail, seven herbs, hemlock, hell dabble in anything. Except raw celery. Only a madman would mess with that.

His path is never lonely as he is accompanied by his familiar, a bliss cat named Briar. Briar would have preferred to have been called Thorn, but at least it was better than Brambles or Buttercup, which had both been in contention for a while.

Aleister made a name for himself after aiding the Frog Master of the marshes with an unsightly mottle. Nowadays, despite his scruffiness, scowling cat and dubious qualifications, he is called upon in times of need when all other help is too far away, or simply too expensive.


Battle Mage Tundror of the Villa

# The Lore of Battle Mage Tundror of the Villa

After losing his eye as a young man in a duel with the Dreaded Hag Witch of Lesser Wallop, Tundror is feared across the lands as an easily enraged war hound and atrocious but irate darts player.

His step-father, Ulgavar the Unwise, renowned breeder of mythical creatures, took full custody of Tundror after a disastrous misbreeding of a mermaid and a minotaur.

Tundror takes after his mothers top half and fathers bottom, but his brother, who was not adopted, has a fish body and bulls head. Inconvenient!