Apollo of the Riviera

# The Lore of  Apollo of the Riviera

His eyes firmly staring into the nascent Sun, Apollo hovers rapidly over the crystal waters of the Riviera. His tense body lays horizontally a few inches above the sea, sustained and transported by strokes of magical wind. The young mage crafts convoluted whirls of wind with rhythmic movements of his hands and tunes them harmoniously to the underlying sea waves. After a few circular gestures, the wizard channels the magical winds and start spinning on himself before diving gently in the open sea.

On the distant beach, the dog Aella feels the sudden attenuation in her connection with Apollo and stops chasing the seagulls, patiently looking at the diving spot among the waves.

After a few moments, Apollo emerges with a jump from the waters smiling and rapidly moving towards the shore.

Relieved, Aella lightly goes back to protect the dying bonfire and the wizard food from the approaching seagulls. With rapid spinning movements, she creates short-lived whirlwinds capable to scary off the large white birds while waiting for Apollo.

Apollo reaches the shore and walks in the warm light of the dawn, his long golden hair covering his shoulders.

Soft breezes of magical wind are still running along his body, drying out the sea water and dissolving just in time before the wizard fetches some fruits to eat from the bag.

Sitting down on the white and sandy beach, he looks at the embers of the bonfire with dreaming eyes and slowly pets Aella now laying next to him.

Every morning, Apollo reaches his spot in the Riviera and joyfully connects with the surrounding Nature and wildlife, thankful for being able to survive and enjoy these moments as a free mage.

Apollo is unable to live a life of attachments, responsibilities and roots keeping him anchored to one place.

Like the wind, Apollo is free to flow unconstrained.


Like the wind, Apollo is free to flow unconstrained.

Politics and intrigues of the aristocratic magic community are now distant memories after he left the Haven and the exhausting regime imposed by his family, one of the most ancient ones in the community.

After his youth training, he left behind him the sure path towards a life of riches and power followed by every member of his family so far, embarrassing his father and attracting his powerful curse.

Was it all worth the price?

Savouring the sweet fruits in silence, Apollo looks again at the vast sea, then to Aella calmly sitting next to him and, satisfied, he gives himself an answer.

With the sun rising on the horizon, Apollo of the Riviera stands up and packs his magic artifacts and spell book, ready to flow through the new day.


Magus Ifran of the Atheneum

# The Lore of Magus Ifran of the Atheneum

Magus Ifran of the Atheneum wanders through vast lands in search for the sacred spore of the gods.

What for, you may ask?

To dissolve one's ego, and flow into nothingness.


Sorcerer Ofaris of the Keep

# The Lore of Sorcerer Ofaris of the Keep

# Prologue

Ofaris looked at his hands, which pulsed warm with magical energy. He never failed to cast a single spell, and everyone around him knew it. When the blue glow around Ofaris finally subsided, there was a loud applause and cheers.

Lots of people gathered here in the swamps. Some didn't believe Ofaris could really do it, others just really wanted to see it again. There were only a few wizards in the country who mastered the spell of teleportation, but it was he who did it repeatedly and with always striking accuracy.

"Bravo, my friend!"

"Unbelievable!"

The cheers didn't stop around, and Ofaris enjoyed them properly. Today, he had his hair cut, his beard oiled, and his periwinkle coat cleaned. He wanted everyone to remember him as best they could, especially those who did not master the secrets of magic.

"If you'll excuse me." Ofaris bowed politely, gently hitting the ground with his Sun staff, and dozens of fluttering fireflies flew out of the glowing tip of the clear fire, illuminating the shadows of the swamps around him. "My colleague here is very grumpy when I keep him waiting too long. He literally adores swamps.

All eyes fell on the golden frog sitting beside Ofaris grunting, apparently unaware of the importance of the moment.

Ofaris smiled and set out across the soft ground to the core of the vast swamps, leaving all curious glances behind. He always said that he made trips to the swamps mostly for his Frog, and although that was partly true, he enjoyed this place unbelievably.

No one dared to follow him here. The moss-covered ground and mirror-calm levels of the lakes all around were too dangerous for ordinary mortals, but also for many wizards.


But not for Ofaris. He was one of the best.

He watched as his frog jumped from one pool to the other in front of him, always testing with his red mouth whether the water was good enough for the golden frog itself. It was a petty ritual, but Ofaris was glad his frog was aware of its rarity. Green, brown, yellow and even blue frogs were fairly common, but golden? There was perhaps only one of them, and it belonged to Ofaris.

Every good wizard had his animal and they played a very important role. In wisdom, almost no one could match wizards, so their life was quite lonely. They understood faster, learned better and knew more. For many ordinary people, they were eccentric beings with too much power, and therefore each had its own animal, which served as an anchor for their souls. This is the only way they could remember how beautiful and especially fragile life is.

And that's why Ofaris's heart almost stopped when he lost sight of his frog for a moment. She was gone, as if the earth had fallen on her.

Ofaris was about to use a revealing spell that would help him find the golden rascal, but in the end he decided it was an opportunity for him to explore the swamp a little more.

He walked among calm lakes with mist, stepped under an old willow tree, and crossed a fallen tree trunk when he finally saw his golden frog. The little devil was sitting quietly on a small mossy island, and Ofaris just had to smile at him. He was a gentleman, and he would never really get angry.

But what happened then almost took his breath away. Two golden frogs suddenly rested on the island. Ofaris rubbed his eyes, making sure his eyes didn't fool him. Really. Two golden frogs. Was it a spell?

"Is that yours?" a gentle female voice spoke.


"Is that yours?" a gentle female voice spoke.

Ofaris hesitated and watched the young woman in the blue suit approach him. Her hair was the color of fresh grass, a curved stick in her hand, a pair of antlers on her head, and a friendly smile on her face. But what struck Ofaris the most was the magical power he felt from this woman.

It was unbelievable.

"Yes." he stammered and straightened. "Nice to meet you, my name is Ofaris."

"Celeste." a young woman smiled at him.

"What are you doing so deep in the swamps, may I ask?"

Celeste laughed. "A lot of people don't come here, it's so quiet here."

"So we obviously have a similar goal." Ofaris said amicably. "I love this place too."

"But we have a problem, Ofaris." Celeste said amusedly, pointing to two golden frogs. They are exactly the same! Maybe I'll pick the wrong one and take your home.

Ofaris couldn't help but smile. He knew very well which of the two frogs was his. He felt an unmistakable connection to the animal. But he was also smart and understood what Celeste wanted.

"In that case, I suggest not moving away from each other until we're really sure whose frog is whose."

Celeste nodded. "Reasonable."

"Indeed."

"But you know frogs, they're stubborn. But it can take hours.'' Celeste protested with a half smile.

"Maybe days and weeks." Ofaris added seriously.

Celeste smiled heavenly at him. "Looks like we have no choice."

# Chapter I.

"Ofaris, how many years have we known each other?" Celeste asked him. "You never made a mistake."


She was right. He was perhaps the only wizard who had never failed a single spell. He had no gift which he was born with. He studied every spare moment and kept improving, while the other wizards had long since given up. He was a wizard with a warrior's heart, but now he felt so frightened.

"I'm not sure, Celeste." he countered, glancing at the pedestal with the spinning fire. "Using the Sacred Flame is extremely challenging."

"A lot of wizards have already used it!" Celeste said.

"But just look where it got them. My dear, I know you want to reach your full potential, but are you aware of the risks?

Celeste smiled at him, as she had for years, and he, like a well-behaved wizard, could not refuse. She was beautiful and most importantly she was extremely powerful.

"I certainly wouldn't make it on my own and I don't trust anyone else." she told him, lying down on the prepared wood bedding. "I think I'm a stronger witch than you are."

"So that's how it's going to be?" Ofaris folded his hands.

"You didn't let me finish." She smiled. "I'm stronger, but you're much smarter. Your technique of using magic is absolutely unique. Where I have the power, you catch up with me with your knowledge. And that is why you must use the Sacred Flame. Nobody else."

"Good." Ofaris said uncertainly and approached the glowing fire in front of him. "Are you ready?"

"I've always been.

Ofaris took a deep breath and held out his hands in front of him. He felt the heat of the Sacred Flame and was frightened. He felt the unbridled magical energy roar within him, and he hesitated for a moment. But then he looked at his wife, gritted his teeth, and took the flames in his hands.


A complete storm broke out inside as the Sacred Flame entered his body. He was shaking, he was hot, and in an instant he was freezing cold. It was as if every part of his body was charged with magical energy that refused to be bound.

Ofaris's knees broke, his ears were closed, and he felt indescribable pain all over his body.

"You can do it!" he suddenly heard his wife's familiar voice in the distance.

If not for her, then for whom else?

Ofaris gritted his teeth again, got to his feet, and accepted the pain. That was the only way to control it. For a moment, it was his, as if trying to use the Flame on himself. He felt the heat ripping his body and mind, and at the last moment he shifted all his strength into his palms and aimed them over Celeste's chest.

The earth shook. The wind blew and the flames rumbled from all directions. An indescribable force flowed through Ofaris, and for the first time in his life, he could not control the flowing magic. He tried his best, but it was pointless as if he was trying to stop the flowing river with his bare hands.

There was a shout.

"Celeste!" screamed Ofaris as he felt too much energy flowing from him. Celeste was strong, but this was too much for ten wizards. He tried to stop the immense power, but he fought in vain.

His wife's scream continued along with the crackling and roaring, and he trembled with exhaustion until he finally fell to his knees.

Suddenly everything stopped and he heard only his loud heartbeat. He looked at the smoldering body, which to his horror moved.

Celeste was burned. Instead of her lovely face, two bright eyes stared at Ofaris from the darkness.


"What am I?!" she suddenly screamed so loud that Ofaris had to cover his ears.

Celeste stared at her purple fingers, pieces of her skin shattering and flying around, only to reunite for a moment and split off elsewhere.

"What did you do to me ?!"

Ofaris stared at his wife with fear in his eyes.

She looked at him with sheer hatred.

And so Ofaris disappeared. He used the teleportation spell he knew so well, and a moment later he landed on the wooden floor of his house.

He knelt on the ground, crying and staring at his hands, which pulsed warm with magical energy. He had just failed to cast the only spell that really mattered.


Battle Mage Wolfram of the Wood

# The Lore of Battle Mage Wolfram of the Wood

### The Early days

Laconic, rugged and often stubborn - Wolfram has only a few friends apart from his chatty feline companion McGonagall.

Those meeting Wolfram for the first time often mistake his silence, sparsely broken by gruntles of a doubtful "hmm" or a commending "argh", as aloofness or unkindness. However those who have spent enough time around Wolfram, often out of need for his guidance navigating the twisting Hedge Wizard Woods, often come to realize his friendly, candid character and indubitable good nature.

Wolfram was the unlikely lovechild of a stern Druid from the Hedge Wizard Woods and an alluring witch of the Thorn.

After events too early for young Wolfram to recall, his memories begin in the Hedge Wizard Woods where he was brought up by his Druid father.

Wolfram's father often left young Wolfram to his own devices in the woods, questionable whether this was a part of a tough parenting regime or carelessness they unquestionably pushed young Wolfram to sharply develop his survival instincts at a young age. True to his heritage, Wolfram demonstrated clear talent for magic at a young age - he quickly and selectively learned, through emulating his father, spells that would help him survive the harshness of the woods.

Wolfram naturally grew more familiar with the wildlife in the Woods than he did with other people - which largely consisted of his few-worded father or the even fewer lost travelers they encountered. Naturally, Wolfram developed a preference towards conveying his intentions through actions than using the words he rarely had the need for.


From his early adventures, Wolfram came to know and experience all of the species that inhabit the Hedge Wizard Woods to varying degrees. Until one day, on a day which his father ambiguously congratulates him for being born, he encounters a creature he has never encountered before: a little black cat, all too small and vulnerable for the harshness of the Woods. How this little domestic creature, so out of place ended up in the depth of the Woods is still unbeknownst to Wolfram - but it took little other than its characteristic loud purrs and affectionate head bumps to convince Wolfram to be disarmed by the little Kitten. Wolfram took the kitten in to protect it from the obvious dangers of the forest: perhaps it was out of deep sympathy, having been largely separated emotionally and physically by his parents himself, that Wolfram acted out of his solitary character to active care for the wellbeing of another living being.

Wolfram's father had a particular disliking of his newfound feline companion, perhaps it was the deep black coat on her that reminded him of Wolfram's mother, but his father's dissent took little effect on stubborn Wolfram's decision to keep the kitten around.

Despite Wolfram's efforts to keep the kitten out of harm's way - the little black Kitten insisted on following young Wolfram around all of his adventures since the fateful day they met. Wolfram tried hard to find the young kitten and reunite it with its mother but he was altogether unsuccessful; he secretly wished that they would never find the kitten's mother, and that the little kitten would never leave his side. Thankfully, she never did.

In their adventures, Wolfram realized frequently that the kitten often led Wolfram to paths that were abnormally fortunate -- often in the form of discovering rare and delectable mushrooms and herbs.


These early days in the Woods underpin Wolfram's staunch penchant for Function over Form in all things, especially magic, to shape what other Wizards who refer to and rely on his resourcefulness as "the Pragmatic one". His early days in the woods shaped his preference and aptitude in the natural magic of the woods, water and earth which he uses tactfully in times of combat or leisurely stewarding of the Woods. Wolfram and McGonagall to this day take refuge in the Hedge Wizard Woods, tending to his garden and occasionally providing assistance to travelers unfortunate enough to be lost in the Woods.

### Woodland Encounters

### Battle Mages, Kobolds and Runes

To be continued...


Cleric Lenora of the Riviera

# The Lore of Cleric Lenora of the Riviera

The supreme power of the Goddess flows through this demure swamp witch,

Humble yet assured, Lenora combines the magic of healing to enrich,

Those that worship the divine mother, and heed solace at the high Temple

For the Cleric is a warrior, a wizard and a priestess encased in a seraphic ensemble


Archmagus Jerret

# The Lore of Archmagus Jerret

_An optimistic mind-set finds dozens of possible solutions for every problem that the pessimist regards as incurable_

One potion makes you larger, and one potion makes you small,

And the ones that mother gives you dont do anything at all.

Go ask Jerret, when hes ten feet tall.

And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know youre going to fall.

Youve just drank the astral potion and your mind is moving low.

Go ask Jerret, I think he will know.

When logic and proportion, have fallen sloppy dead,

And the runes are talking backwards, turning gold into lead,

Remember what the psychic rabbit said,

Feed your head. Feed your head. Feed your head!


Horned Phantasm Celeste of the Ice Abyss

# Chapter I.

Celeste walked down a long corridor with a marble floor and tall columns at the sides.

"What a pity it would be to destroy all this?" she asked the bony Frog, who was trying to keep up with her fast pace.

She had come a long way, but she finally tracked down the man who had been responsible for her current appearance some time ago. His name was said to be Ofaris. It was hard to find him, he was obviously trying to hide as best he could, but he couldn't match her. Celeste wasn't sure what to do with him when she finally defeated him, but she had a hard time finding mercy.

She opened the carved double door in front of her and entered another corridor, with a long red carpet. Unlike the previous one, however, four wizards were standing in front of her.

They stared menacingly at Celeste, but she didn't stop walking. She continued forward, and that brought uncertainty to the wizards in front of her. They were probably the defenders of Ofaris. She could feel their magical power, and it certainly wasn't small, but they were no match for her.

"Stop! Not a step further!  one of them ordered.

"Do you even know who I am?" Celeste asked, not stopping. The wizards exchanged glances, and that was her answer. "Then you know its pointless for you to try anything. I did not come for you, but for your master. If you have any reason in your learned heads, get out of my way.

The wizard swallowed, but in the end all of them parted and let Celeste pass. They stared at her back, but none of them dared to attack insidiously. She would stop their attacks anyway.

Celeste opened the last door and entered a decorated room with a throne. The man who disfigured her sat in a high chair in front of her.


"I was waiting for you to come," Ofaris growled.

"If it's the justice you're looking for, you could have found me and saved me a lot of time." Celeste said and finally stopped in front of his throne. She was ready to cast powerful spells in an instant, but Ofaris didn't seem to care.

"I regret every moment of those fateful moments every single day." he said heavily. "I just wanted to help you."

"Help?" Celeste yelled at him. "You made me a monster!"

"You wanted it yourself!"

Celeste stared at him in astonishment. She didn't remember anything that had happened before her transformation. Ofaris's face was familiar, but she deliberately didn't want to explore their relationship further. She didn't want to suffer like he did.

"Celeste, don't delay." Ofaris said at last. "We both know you're stronger. You always have been and now there is no doubt about that. I'm not a match for you.

"You want me to kill you?" she asked him in surprise.

"Only you know the punishment I deserve."

Celeste nodded. She didn't expect the man not to defend himself, and so she held out her hand enveloped in magical power.

Ofaris just watched her closely and didnt make any attempts to stop her. This shocked Celeste, so she asked him another question.

"Any last words?"

Ofaris smiled. "Please take care of my frog."

Celeste looked around the room and noticed a gold-skinned frog sitting next to her bony frog. The sight reminded her of something distant. Something she couldn't understand, but her heart shook at the sight.

"Do they know each other?" she finally asked. "My frog didn't even want to see any other frog. Its hard to make friends for him


"Yes." Ofaris smiled. "They know each other. Finding a new friend is difficult for them. It can take hours.

Celeste's heart pounded. "Maybe days and weeks."

Ofaris smiled heavenly at her. "Looks like we have no choice."


Adrian Disintegrator of the Slime Pits

Some men are naturally born to great Destiny. Adrian was born to die. He had to wrestle greatness from Destiny's grip by force.

In the depths of Slime Pits, the worst slums in Runiverse, among the poorest scum, he defied all the odds and became one of the most feared bounty hunters for hire.

His price is a steep one though, affordable only by the wealthiest and most motivated entities.

As a man of principle, his honor dictates to either fulfill his contract in full or die. He took countless contracts, he never died.

He rejected a contract only once...and the very idea of this failure still haunts him. That day a dark and creepy entity offered to pay him more than 10x his net worth to bring them a head of Illuminatus.

And today he has a Deja Vu. A different, but no less creepy entity offers him the same deal, with even higher payout.

*Alignment: Lawful Evil*


Archmagus Ixar of the Mount

# Archmagus Ixar of the Mount

> The pen is mightier than the sword_, or so it has been said._
>
> _One could argue however, that such points of view, justified as they may well be, also come from a certain position of entitlement and good fortune. For surely those who have been unfortunate enough to find themselves on the pointy end of the sword, and I hope you will pardon the pun, may find it hard to reconcile such conjecture._
>
> _In the grand scheme of things, on matters on a larger scale and of deeper import, I would tend to agree with the former; it is in the stories, in the education and in the lore that we may transcend and ascend, become more, grow as a speies - whereas the sword, well it may serve to dominate and defend, surely cannot create, only destroy._
>
> _And yet therein lies the crux, for to be bestowed the privilege to not only read, learn and grow, but to also wield such potent power that the pen represents, one may very well also depend on those who are willing to wield the sword. For the enemies of truth are many, and only behind safety can one truly express freely._
>
> _So wield thy pen not lightly, should you interestes lie in changing the world. Be thankful to the sacrificial sword that thou so permits, and I shall hope your intentions are for the better and not for worse._
>
>
> A Tratsie on Penmanship and Swordmanship
>
> \_Archamgus Ixar\_


Sage Silas of the Hall

# The Origin Story

He opened his eyes- or at least he thought he did. Everything was pitch black. He tried blinking but his vision was unchanged- black either way. It didnt matter really, he had to get out. He outstretched his arms as far as he could but his elbows were still bent when his hands hit the walls. They were soft yet rigid; a suffocating warmth exuding from them. He kicked and punched at his prison with all his might, turning in circles until he no longer knew which way was up. He suddenly was being strangled but by who? Who was there? He tried to shout but he couldn't breathe. A chord was tightening quickly around his neck. This was it he thought, this is how he goes out, when suddenly he felt a rumble. The vibrations were all encompassing and he felt his whole body shake. Much to his terror, the walls started moving, creeping ever closer to his tired body. He surrendered to the movement- it was all he could do. He felt himself sliding downward, was there a tunnel in this pit he hadnt discovered? he thought to himself, defeated. There was a bright flash of light right before he lost consciousness.

Why isnt he crying? wailed his mother, who was barely conscious herself. She had been in labor for almost a full day. The midwife grabbed the infant by his feet and dragged him from his mother. Out came his legs, belly, shoulders, all a sad shade of blue.She saw the umbilical chord wrapped around his neck several times. He must have been doing somersaults in there thought the midwife, sadly. She quickly severed the chord and handed the baby to his mother. Im so sorry she whispered with true remorse hanging onto every word.

His mother held her baby to her chest, pleading silently into his wispy hair.


His mother held her baby to her chest, pleading silently into his wispy hair.

He slowly stirred in his mind. Where was he? He was fairly certain he was no longer trapped in prison. There was a new sensation on his body, a pleasant warmth, a dry warmth, a soft warmth. He felt very at peace and almost drifted off to sleep without a word until he realized there was a red glow to his vision. He mustered all of his strength and opened his eyes and was utterly shocked to see a womans face looming over him, with the most blinding light behind her. He gasped, suddenly able to breathe, and began to scream.

His mother was so startled she almost dropped him. The midwife, who was leaving the room, ran back in. Please, let me see him, he gave us quite the scare, '' she said. His mother sighed and very reluctantly handed off her squalling son. Sigh less, miss said the midwife, kindly, you have a son.

Sigh less, thought the mom. Silas. That will be his name.


Magus Galatea of the Heath

# Magus Galatea of the Heath

## A Tale of Twin Serpents I

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 Hamonious, Galatea her name
And where she went, so slithered her Snake
And Oh! How hearts of Men did Break

For such was her Aesthetic
So beautiful to Beholde
That none dared look askance or stray
Nor man, nor lass, nor young or olde

Atwined her staff of Harmony
Her Verdant serpent would caress
So, Spirits would Mysteriously
In her wake soon Quiesce

Atwixt her hair, the flowers brightly Bloomed
The scented Air, once dull and stale
Now intoxicatingly perfumed


Thaumaturge Aldus of the Sun

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Aldus of the Sun

People ask for miracles. They need
the wheat to ripen, rain to fall, the herd
of cows to get with calf. Portents in seed
and stumble. Folk do not believe a word
of magic until plans begin to fail
and children weaken. Then they ask and beg
a drop of mercy. Thus begins the tale
of thaumaturgy. Get up, put one leg
before the other. Those who dig and hoe
the roots and weeds are not so different than
us magic workers. Wherever we go
we do our best in our allotted spans,
succour the helpless. But when we succeed
we fade from memory, from word and deed.


Adept Cassiopeia of the Mount

# The Lore of Adept Cassiopeia of the Mount

Trees of orange blossom, bright as silk,
as knightly banners shining on the hill,
as my own little slime-helper. The milk
of unicorns. I sometimes taste it still
as I practice my magic on the Mount
and think back to old times. I shake my hair,
and give thanks to my ancestorsthe fount
of hidden secrets. Still I hear them there
with bowl and pestle, working as I sleep
and dream my childhood dreams. I am the flag
of futurememory so vast and deep
that when you try to keep it in a bag
and carry on, defying chant and rhyme
it wriggles free, stands proud of place and time.


Kaz Vanquisher of the Rune Raiders

Kaz hails from the vast Jungles of the South, just beyond the Sands. Famed by the local Shaman tribes he defends the Land, Runes and Catci.


Enchanter Devon of the Grotto

# The Lore of Enchanter Devon of the Grotto

Devon and her golden toad emerged from the caves intent on discovering the secrets of the world. Devon harnesses the power of the earth to overcome obstacles and fulfill her destiny.


Druid Rita of the Hollow

# The Lore of Druid Rita of the Hollow

The Druid Rita and her red mamba have been a presence in the hills for as long as anyone can remember. Rita is rarely seen clearly but is rumored to carry the feather of a phoenix.


Adept Cassiopeia of the Mount

# The Lore of Adept Cassiopeia of the Mount

Trees of orange blossom, bright as silk, as knightly banners shining on the hill, as my own little slime-helper. The milk of unicorns. I sometimes taste it still as I practice my magic on the Mount and think back to old times. I shake my hair, and give thanks to my ancestorsthe fount of hidden secrets. Still I hear them there with bowl and pestle, working as I sleep and dream my childhood dreams. I am the flag of futurememory so vast and deep that when you try to keep it in a bag and carry on, defying chant and rhyme it wriggles free, stands proud of place and time.


Battle Mage Goliath of the Desert

# The Lore of Battle Mage Goliath of the Desert

Goliath always lived under the shadow of his overachieving twin brother Danny, and carries the weight of his tremendously ambitious name. Coming from a family of battle mages sworn to protect the Forgotten Runes from the nefarious minions of the Quantum Shadow, Goliath was trained in the arts of war from a very young age. Descended from a lineage of some of the most celebrated warriors in the Runiverse, expectations were high for him...but Goliath never really liked to fight. He preferred to plop down on a hammock on the beach on a sunny day with a tall glass of pink lemonade beside him, and a good book describing the adventures of a wise wizard or noble warrior of the realms. However, if his parents caught him doing any such thing, it would've been an immediate beating followed by 100 push-ups.

Although Danny was obviously the favorite and the one who earned the highest grades, won all the mage tournaments, and was the most popular amongst their peers, Goliath also managed to find his niche in life. Combining his love of astronomy as well as the performance arts, he discovered a talent for illusion magic. Everyone thought he would fail the battle mage admissions trials, but Goliath managed to weave his glamours to make the other competitors take each other out until he was the only one left standing. His parents, though they preferred the direct approach to combat (fireballs and such), were begrudgingly impressed by the son whom they had previously thought would spend the rest of his life living in their basement. And thus began the saga of Battle Mage Goliath.


As a new recruit and the lowest ranking battle mage, Goliath's first assignment was to patrol the outer borders of the Forgotten Runes: the vast inhospitable desert known as the Sand. Although other battle mages deployed in the area usually just snuck off to the Zaros Oasis to hang out and gamble, Goliath took his duties seriously, and quickly earned a reputation amongst his superiors as a hard worker. Despite daily sunburns, some of which were intense enough to set the ends of his moustache on fire, he enjoys his job as Battle Mage Goliath of the Desert. He even met his familiar there, an orange suncat he named Garfield. Also, there's a female battle mage in his battalion he's developed a crush on, but since Goliath is shy and has no idea how to talk to women, she naturally doesn't even know he exists. Maybe one day he'll work up the courage to ask her out on a date (he knows a lot about stars and constellations, which is supposed to be romantic, right?).


Conjurer Calliope of the Heath

# The Lore of Conjurer Calliope of the Heath

Bring your darkest thought out. Now, go worse,
go deeper still. Bring all your anger out
and hone it. Sharpen it. Give it a shout,
for real. Go couch it in the ancient verse
and turn on all your strengtheners. A cage
for every bestial impulse. Every hate
is catalogued, pronounced. Rendered in state
for all to see. Master and rein your rage
and draw it out. In time youll find the trick
and summon beings portent and profound
to sacred missions. Terrible the sound
of cold despair. The effort makes you sick
but still you conjure syllable to next
and steer to shore, one second from the wreck.


Battle Mage Durm of the Fey

# The Lore of Battle Mage Durm of the Fey

When one thinks of battle-mages, one
recalls the firebombing of the town,
the sudden avalanche, eclipsing sun,
that small terrible moment when they drowned
the harbour village. But battle is art
of wit and wonder. I brew passion draft
and keep pike-men from breaking. Give them heart,
generals ask. So many times Ive laughed
and warned them that one cannot gild a turd
to win a hopeless battle. Wretched wraiths
will open bastions, let loose every bird,
betray, to live. One cannot rest on faith
and promises and hope and chance to win.
You understand me? Well, thenlets begin.


Magus Dante of the Sands

# The Lore of Magus Dante of the Sands

A member of the Magi, Dante holds the knowledge of an illustrious brand of magic, practiced only by him and others of his creed. Though he is of the Sands, little is known of his true origins. Faint whispers of a reflection flickering off of an oasis pool, revealing a floating homestead, have been heard but never spoken.

Dante has been seen in every corner of the lands; he seems to appear at the most opportune of moments. Accompanied by a shapeshifting slime by the name of Morpheus, the duo seem to have spatial and temporal abilities beyond the scope of the Magi. Doubts have been cast as to who is truly the most powerful of the two.

His looks belie his age. Younger than most wizards at the year of 33, his spry body can perform quite the athletic feat. Donned in the airy clothing befitting his dusty, dry homeland, Dante of the Sands has been known to extoll the fabric's virtues with the phrase The comfier the clothing, the better the magic!


Archmagus Milton of the Bastion

# The Lore of Archmagus Milton of the Bastion

Milton never knew his parents; he was found abandoned in the thick forest near Dream Master Lake by the fellows at Blue Wizard Bastion. Never told of his heritage by his adopted parents, he was raised within blue hat culture, and trained as a blue wizard.

Milton was the slowest in his class, he never demonstrated the same natural talent in the arcane as his peers or the same rigor in his academic papers. Around his 30th birthday, it was reveled to Milton by his parents on their death bed that he was not their biological son at all, but rather found and assumed to be of blue hat blood.

It took Milton years of experimentation to find his natural leanings in druidic magic, but due to late adoption of green hat magic, he isn't quite seen as a peer by either faction. Disagreeing with the eco-facist beleifs of the green and lacking the academic rigor of the blue, Milton sees himself as a jack of many types of magic and a master of none.

What keeps him up at night are his anxieties that he isn't a true Green Wizard either, and he committed prematurly to make up for his lost time at Blue Wizard Bastion.


Sorcerer Jiang of the Belfry

# The Lore of Sorcerer Jiang of the Belfry

_I love you,_ the last words I heard mother say before I was left, all alone, in the wild.

She didnt want to, but she had no choice and now at the mere age of 8, I was forced to fend for myself.

Soon things would begin to look up. Welcome to my Chronicles.

# Chapter 1- The Marsh

	The cold began to nip at my feet as I jumped awake. I knew what this meant; I must migrate south.

I had spent many years in the Wild at this point, alone except for the occasional caravan passing through,

so I had gotten to know the area well. The south not so much, but I knew that for my own survival I must go.

With no belongings except the clothes on my back, I set out for Kelpies Bay, not knowing what Id have to do

to get there.
	It all started as I drifted off of the Carnival Pass and into the Fey, itching for a change in scenery and

maybe even an adventure. Soon, though, my boots began to get stuck in the ground. It was mud, but it wouldnt

budge. Every move I made only made me sink deeper, and thats when I realized, _quicksand._

	I reached for the nearest tree and I attempted to heave myself out to no avail. The sand quickly rose past

my waist. This was it. I simply relaxed, waiting for the inevitable. Just as I did, my body began to rise from the

quicksand, slowly but surely. I was able to slide myself off and prop myself upon a nearby tree.
	I then noticed a sign, just across from the pool of quicksand I had fallen in. It read , Welcome to Frog Master


Marsh: Population- few. Here be quicksand! I chuckled to myself, _How ironic,_ but I couldnt get up. My eyelids

began to become heavy

~

	I jolted awake to see a man. Woah there! he said, Calm down, I aint gonna hurt you. I relaxed a little,

though reasonably still on edge. That mudworm got you pretty well.
	Mudworm? I asked.
	They live in the quicksand, they got a pretty ugly stinger, the man replied, the names Chaw by the way,

and I think you may owe me something.
	Well, _Chaw,_ I dont have any money to give you, I replied.
	Thats not quite what I want, Chaw said, Ive got a task for you, and dont you go running off, I got

connections, ya know.
	Okay, I responded, cursing under my breath for getting myself into this situation, What do you want?
	Theres this small temple just north of here, theres a bunch of goons hanging out there, and they seem to be

trying to take over the marsh. I need you to take them out.
	Is there anything I need to know first, I said, knowing that this would be easy.
	Not that I know of, Chaw said, You best be on your way.
	I nodded and stood up. My head pounded, but I tried my best to act unaffected and continued out the door of

Chaws shack.
	The temple turned out to be extremely close to the shack just like Chaw had implied. This is going to be fun,

he said to himself, and surged forward through the mud.
	As I neared the men, they jumped up. Some javelins came raining down from the top of the temple, but I kept


running, dodging them as I went. The goons began to run at me, armed with spears.
	As they began to raise their arms ready to strike, fire erupted from my hands. The men screamed as I pushed

past. The goons standing near the main gate fled, letting me enter the stone structure freely.
	There appeared to be three levels, all rigged with traps no doubt. The staircase was grand, leading to two sides

of the next floor. I took the right side, which led me into some sort of labyrinth. As I hesitantly walked forward, my

foot got caught on a wire. An axe swung down from the ceiling. I dropped. My head hit the stone floor, but I guess its

better than hitting an axe.
	Luckily though, this was to my favor. I pried the axe from the ceiling, it was surprisingly heavy, but I could make

due. I began to swing at the already fractured stone wall which quickly gave way. I did this until I came out on the other

side, revealing a grand chamber that connected to the third floor.
	Goons flooded in from both of the staircases beside me, all armed to the teeth. I would be lying if I said I didnt fear

for my life, but I was prepared. I simply stood in the middle of the chamber as they charged at me from all angles. I got into

a right lunge, putting my hands at chest level. I was surrounded. I waved my hands in a circle around my body and a massive

wave of fire filled the room, bisecting every living thing it came in contact with.
	The carnage was too much to bear, so I ran up the stairs. What I saw next, I was not prepared for. A hulking, insanely


tall, muscular thing armed with a tree trunk. I froze in place. The thing didnt seem to notice me, so I turned and sprinted.

A stone fell from beneath me as I did. It crashed loudly on the floor below. Hey!
	I ran for my life, but he was too fast, so I had to stand against him. I turned around, throwing a fireball at his chest.

It quickly dispersed against him. He was immune. Then things went black.
	Hey! I heard again, but this time it was a womans voice,  pick on someone your own size!
	I felt enormous stomps, multiple sets, followed by many other footsteps. The steps turned into rumbles and clinks as a

fight broke out in between an unknown amount of people.
	Hey, its okay, the woman said into my ear. I was able to pry my eyes open to see a woman with brown hair and brown

eyes, Ill get you stitched up. I turned my head to see the fight. There was a thing like the other one, beating it in hand-to-hand

combat while normal men were prodding it with spears. Keep your head up, okay, the woman said, you have a family?
	No,not anymore, I said as she patched me up.
	Im sorry to hear that. We might have a pla-, she was saying before she was cut off by the first thing falling and collapsing

the floor beneath it. Alright, she said as she picked me up. We rushed out, the floor caving behind the army.

~

	Over the next few years I grew up in a proper family. The people who rescued me, the Keras, took me in. They gave me a name,


food and a roof. I came to be known as Jiang. A few years after they adopted me, they gave me a frog for my birthday. I could have

never been happier. Unfortunately, my adventures were not yet over. This one is a bit more upsetting.

# Chapter II: A Reckoning

	The Keras were good people, but they were rulers. They ruled over the Belfry for many years. They were generally viewed as

benevolent, but being a ruler will put you on someones hit list. Then came the day.
	I awoke to smoke filling my room. I quickly got dressed and headed down the spiral staircase of the tower to see the bottom wooden

floors on fire. There were the bodies. My heart dropped. I had to find them, the people that did this. The only people to ever show

me real mercy.
	I fled through my bedroom window. I didnt know where to go, but I left town.
	Night seemed to pass quickly as I searched for any one to blame. In the morning I went into a tavern, hoping not only to rest

but maybe to find something out.
	As I approached, the tavern worker seemed instantly on edge. Could I get a room? I asked.
	I dont give rooms to murderers! he proclaimed, in fact Ill go inform the guards immediately!
	What do you mean? I asked.
	Its not just a coincidence that they were killed by fire, he said, Its obvious that their pyromancer, wildborne son is to blame.
	I couldnt take it anymore. I turned and ran out.
	Guards! the tavern man said, hes escaping.
	Now I had to find who did this, not just for the Keras, but my future depended on it. I decided to venture to For Gnome Wold as


the Keras had close royal friends there. I figured they would understand my situation.
	As I journeyed through the mountains, with my frog(which I had named Joel), I came upon my highest highs and lowest lows. I knew

this time, unlike last time, no one would come to my rescue. If anything it would be the opposite. Though it was also oldly freeing. I didnt

need to go on this crusade. I couldve stopped at any point, but my will to do whats right surpassed those urges and I was soon in the

foothills, nearing Fur Gnome Wold.
	The king was understanding. He knew a guilty man would never walk this far under such treacherous conditions, so he granted me

amnesty and a home in the castle. I had never felt so relieved. He even offered to help me find who did this.
	Now this, I wouldve never expected.
	I settled into bed in my new(maybe even permanent) room and set my bag just beside me. I expected to get some much-needed sleep,

but instead I heard something.
	You must be hasty, the soldiers are already in the mountains.
	This sure got my attention, but I didnt want to make it obvious. I sat back on my bed, reviewing my options when a heard footsteps

approaching my room. The door handle turned and the door swung open. The man, expecting me to be asleep, ran in and brandished his

knife, but first he had to gloat.
	You walked right into our trap, didnt you, he said.
	It would seem that way, I responded, attempting to dig my dagger from my bag.
	Not so fast! the man said, plunging his knife into my side. It burned, but there was no blood, so I attacked back,slicing the man in


the face. He fell to the marble floor. I sprung up, unwounded, grabbing my bag and unlatching the window, I jumped, not looking back.

Now I knew.
	I ran south and ended up where I was before- the Wild. The land I always knew as home before being brought into the Belfry.

To conclude my chronicles, Ill tell you the aftermath.
	The Gnomes conquered the Belfry, securing sea access. I would later come into conflict with them again. I had begun to tame the wild,

but the Gnomes brought an end to that. Now I wander.
	As to why I survived: I later found a Goblet of Immortality in my bag. With it, came a note that read, _Dear son, I know what will soon_

_happen to us and I cannot stop it. I love you, son. Though there is a secret I kept from you, Im a chronomancer._
	Id be lying if I said this didnt upset me. _Why could she not fix it?_ I know she had her reasons, but to think that she could still be

here today pains me.
	Even though I live in the wild, Ill always be from the Belfry, and no one, not even the Gnomes, can take that from me.


Artificer Horace of the Bastion

# An Alcoholic's Tale

This is Horace. Horace has spent a little too much time at the Thirsty Wizard. He enjoys buying 'beers for the boys' only to realize he is way too messed up and cant afford the tab.

Horace gets kicked out from The Thirsty Wizard twice a week. But somehow he always finds his way back in.

Are the bartenders **too** nice?

Do they just feel bad for the poor old man?

Is his gold chain even _real_?

There are alot of questions we need to ask Horace - but we must first ask him one of the most important questions of all...

## What's in your drink today, Horace?


Battle Mage Borak of the Ether

# The Lore of Battle Mage Borak of the Ether

I am Battle Mage Borak of Ether. I am good man. Me try to not eat people all the time. I like frog men. Tasty Tasty.

Me born 10 thousand years ago. Borak born to bad family. Father a drunkard, mother a frog. At the age of 7 me began work in the fields. At age of 8 Borak become field foreman. Borak parents were not proud, said that I am failure. So Borak ate father and mother. Me found out how tasty frog men are. So for the past thousand years Borak have been hunting Mr Frog mans. And me is very hungry.


Summoner Celeste of the Hills

# The Lore of Summoner Celeste of the Hills

Appearances can be deceiving, and in Celeste's case this is no different.  One might think her hair is styled as such that it is representing the snakes to which she holds the power of manipulation.  However, when confronted with grave danger, her hair becomes the living embodiment of Red Mamba's and each individual wave in her hair a venomous snake to which she can summon to her enemy's peril.

Celeste is a holder of a Gorgon's eye. Beholding this power she has been known to elevate her mental state to such a degree that her mind and body become separate entities.  While in possession of Gorgon's eye Celeste becomes a duality of the terrifying visage  of Stone-turned faces and the actual living embodiment of the snakes she herself can summon at the raise of the eye

Celeste's lineage can be dated back to the Summoning Charmer's of Algador. It is within the walls of Algador's castle that Celeste first learned of the power to manipulate Red Mamba's and bend them to her will.  As first born, Celeste has learned to wield the true power of Gorgon's Eye. Two Summoners per generation has the ability to simultaneously wield Gorgon's Eye whilst controlling Red Mambas.  It is the great Summoner Celeste who nonetheless possesses this unique power embedded directly into her genes that she can now pass down to her first-born future kin.


Legends speak of a certain society Celeste is thought to belong to. Rumors abound, the ancient order of the **Black Dragon Society** is just that, a rumor.  For it is among the most secretive societies, forever imposing their reach and gathering more soldiers into their society.  The Black Dragon Society has been thought to long have control over the power of dragons, but that isn't their only reason for existing.  They are believed to be behind the scenes, pulling the strings of major world events to benefit their agenda.  That agenda?  If someone were to live to tell about it after encountering them, there would be a better understanding.  It seems as though their undeniable persuasion of the Black Dragon Society has regular folk dying, possibly even literally, to join.


# The Lore of Blood Eater Revenant Ozohr of Nightmare Paradise

Ozohr is most active when wizards sleep, visiting them in their dreams. They say that when some wizards visit Nightmare Paradise, they never wake up, joining Ozohr as minion in his undead campaign to haunt all wizards.

The Mystic Ozohr, before he passed through the flame, used to spend much of his time sleeping, he loved living in the dream world.  Although coming from a mystic family, Ozohr had never displayed any special gifts, choosing to spend most of his time sleeping and dreaming. Only later did people realize he had the ability to visit them in his dream state... Before the tower of Fire, Ozohr mostly did harmless things in his dreams, planting seeds of ideas, visiting the Wizard Empress once and having her dream of marriage to the very boring Ozohr.

Rejected from the world, sent to the fire, the Blood Eater emerged and all those powers of sleep teleportation transitioned to the lust for blood.

It is said that only the wafting odor of the magical Soul Rose will awaken a wizard once put under the spell of Ozohr. The only defence to never go under is to consume one Jelly Donut per month, to ward away the powers of Ozohr.

Otherwise you will be spending your time in Nightmare Paradise.


Illusionist Huizhong of the Obelisk

# The Lore of Illusionist Huizhong of the Obelisk

Huizhong is the only known practitioner of a unique form of magic - the art of intimate singular illusions.

He travels from city to city serving the highest bidder with experiences so tangible and so perfect in every detail that they are indistinguishable from reality.

- Wish you could talk to your long dead religious savior? Let Huizhong introduce you for the conversation of a lifetime.

- Have you lost a loved one? Huizhong will conjure them back for you down to the wisp of hair at their neck.

- Had your heart broken? Huizhong will conjure a perfect replacement whose eyes never leave yours.

Of course, thats all well and good for Huizhongs customers, but as with many great powers - it comes at a cost.

The creation of these illusions is so consuming of magical energy that Huizhong can only serve one single master with one single illusion at a time.

So Huizhong is sentenced to a strange life indeed.

He either lives a fabulously wealthy but magically empty and otherwise mundane life fulfilling the dreams of the mightiest lords and ladies of the land. Or a life as an utterly average wizard never practicing the highest form of his art.

Which would you choose?


Purple Coffin

# The Lore of Purple Coffin

**The Purple Coffin is the resting place of Adept Alessar of the Sea.**

He is floating forever in the astral plane but his remains may yet live again. A life of undead wonder remains - an undesirable outcome for his seafaring soul. What will become of this vessel is yet to be determined. If you open this box you will reckon with greater evils than Pandora released many moons ago.


Witch Shivra of the Reach

# The Lore of Witch Shivra of the Reach

Lady Shivra, one of 11 princess sisters of Wildforest Kingdom who fallen in love with Eastern Kingdom prince but was betrayed by him and she became most of powerfull witch to revenge him. See that frog with her? It's that prince.


Cartomancer Fiskantes

*Lords come and go. Joker stays.*

Cartomancer Fiskantes wields powerful but unpredictable Joker magic. Relying on power of chance, sharp edges of playing cards and bungee gum, arcane substance which has properties of both rubber and gum.

*Alignment: Chaotic Neutral*


Enchanter Celeste of the Sands

# The Lore of Enchanter Celeste of the Sands

Enchanter Celeste of the Sands is the direct descendant of the ancient Empress, Celestial the Communard of the order of the Black and Red. Celestial the Communard ended the trolloc invasions by unleashing the power of the Omega Rune, and turning the trollocs mighty kingdom to rubble, leaving nothing but the expanse of the Sands. After the dust settled, a Phoenix arose from the destruction and left Celestial a single feather as a gift, imbued with the power of regeneration. From each successive generation, a single worthy descendant inherits the Omega Rune and the Phoenix Feather, and dons the Black and Red double sash. What will Enchanter Celeste do with this great power she inherited? Only time willtell.


Battle Mage Homer of the Psychic Leap

# The Lore of Battle Mage Homer of the Psychic Leap

Leaf magic and red frogs, LFG. GM and WAGMI.


Alchemist Blaise of the Oasis

# The Lore of Alchemist Blaise of the Oasis

Alchemist Blaise has always been the most unlucky soul to ever walk these lands. His lifelong streak of bad luck began at the moment of his birth. His parents agreed to name him "Blaze," an incredibly badass name for a future wizard, but the midwife misheard them and recorded his name as "Blaise" on the birth certificate...significantly less badass. When he was 10, his entire extended family perished in a mana storm that struck while they were on a camping trip together. At the orphanage, he was the only child no one wanted to foster, until he eventually came of age and got booted out of the system. He worked a series of menial jobs to put food on the table, but could never hold down any of them for long, each time something would happen that would result in him getting fired. He did have a girlfriend once, until one day she decided to switch teams and ran off with another woman.  He tried playing the lottery once, but missed a 1,000,000 gold jackpot by a single digit, and then got mugged the next day. Blaise's life has always, in a word, sucked.


Then he met Midnight. He didn't know where the cat came from, he just came home one day to find it curled up on his porch, shivering, matted, and hungry. Blaise has always loved animals, so he took it inside to give it food and shelter. Blaise was aware of his own bad karma, and knew from experience that his unlucky streak spread like a contagion to infect those around him, so after nursing the cat back to health, he tried to release it back into the wild. But Midnight refused to leave, it had grown used to Blaise and continued to follow him around despite his best efforts to rehome the feline. Blaise begrudgingly accepted the cat into his life, but it wasn't until later that he noticed that "something" had changed. Something incredible.

It began with the little things, then snowballed from there. Blaise would go out for a walk, and _didn't_ have a pigeon land a bullseye poop on his head. He would visit the coffee shop and they wouldn't be out of his favorite drink. His annoying neighbors who had a daily habit of playing the drums at the crack of dawn got evicted, and a very nice elderly grandma moved in who baked him fresh cookies every Sunday. An old flame from the orphanage reached out to reconnect. He even found a new job working as a caretaker of the Zaros Oasis in the Sands. Eventually, Blaise noticed that ever since he adopted Midnight, his streak of bad luck had disappeared...was it possible that the curse had finally been lifted? Whatever the reason, things were beginning to look up for a change, and for once in his life, Blaise looked forward to what the future had in store for him.


Hedge Wizard Mina of the Hollow

# The Lore of Hedge Wizard Mina of the Hollow

Growing up, "magic" was a four letter word in Mina's household. Ever since her father ran off with a witch (Mina doesn't know the woman's name, her mother only ever referred to her as "the skank"), her mom forbade any discussion of magic whatsoever underneath their roof. She was not allowed to attend her best friend's birthday party because they had hired a magician for entertainment. Then one day, her mom discovered from a private detective that her husband had not eloped out of his own volition...the witch had actually bound him to a love spell to force him to abandon his family. From that day forward, things took a complete 180. Mom immediately signed Mina up for afterschool magic classes at the Pigmoles School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and pushed her to become the most powerful mage in all the Forgotten Runes. Her mission: find her dad, break the love enchantment with a counterspell, and bring him home. Oh, and blow up the skank with a fireball if the opportunity presented itself.


Mina was totally on board with this plan, but unfortunately she did not exactly have a natural aptitude for the arcane. One of her first spells went awry and resulted in her sprouting a pair of deer antlers on her head permanently. Another one conjured a pack of locusts that savaged the whole village's farmlands and decimated the crops, resulting in Mina's family being driven out of town by an angry mob armed with pitchforks and torches (it was OK, they wanted to move anyway). Mina was a hustler and never gave up, eventually attaining some degree of proficiency in the arcane arts, but never really got quite as good at it as most of her peers in the wizarding world. However, she is a jack-of-all-trades, a woman of many talents, and magic isn't the only tool in her arsenal. Unlike most wizards, who spend their whole lives with their nose buried in a grimoire, Mina actually goes to the gym. She has even taken kickboxing classes, and as a result, can hold her own in a duel even against a more magically skilled opponent.

Mina currently works as a private eye with her own agency at Red Wizard Capital. She spends much of her free time taking dialect lessons to extinguish her country accent so the city wizards would take her seriously as a professional, and administering beatings to clients who get the wrong idea just because she's a blonde bombshell and get a little too handsy (some weirdos have a thing for the horns). She enjoys her work, the money is good, and she likes solving mysteries. She still hopes that one day she will find a lead that will reunite her with her missing father, so their family can finally be together again.


Wild Mage Moloch of El Dorado

# The Lore of Wild Mage Moloch of El Dorado

Moloch never chose the way of magic. He stumbled upon it in the forest, near a large rock, in the dead of night. The year was 1977.

A night partying in the woods with his friends went south as the glowing tendrils sprouted from the earth and consumed Moloch. Penetrating his skin, his mind, his puffy coat. It was when the green magic lifted him into the air that Moloch's friends left him for dead, beer cans and joints tossed as they ran.

Moloch awoke with startle in the freezing night. A newfound power flowing from his core and through his fingertips.


Artificer Alessar of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Artificer Alessar of the Cosmos

Artificer Alessar of the Cosmos shouts "WAGMI" as grand riches rains down from the sky


Pyromancer Milo of the Astral Plane

# The Lore of Pyromancer Milo of the Astral Plane

The Universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.


Loop Master Loopify

# The Loop Master.

(Scene: A tavern. The Wizard Empress is reading alone at a table. An empty chair is opposite her. The Loop Master enters.)

THE LOOP MASTER: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

EMPRESS: Excuse me?

THE LOOP MASTER: Is this taken?

EMPRESS: Yes it is.

THE LOOP MASTER: Oh. Sorry.

EMPRESS: Sure thing.

(A bell rings softly.)

TLM: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

EMP: Excuse me?

TLM: Is this taken?

EMP: No, but I'm expecting somebody in a minute.

TLM: Oh. Thanks anyway.

EMP: Sure thing.

(A bell rings softly.)

TLM: Excuse me. Is this chair taken?

EMP: No, but I'm expecting somebody very shortly.

TLM: Would you mind if I sit here till he or she or it comes?

EMP: (Glances at her watch): They do seem to be pretty late...

TLM: You never know who you might be turning down.

EMP: Sorry. Nice try, though.

TLM: Sure thing.

(Bell.)

TLM: Is this seat taken?

EMP: No it's not.

TLM: Would you mind if I sit here?

EMP: Yes I would.

TLM: Oh.

(Bell)

TLM: Is this chair taken?

EMP: No it's not.

TLM: Would you mind if I sit here?

EMP: No. Go ahead.

TLM: Thanks. (He sits. She continues reading). Every place else seems to be taken.

EMP: Mm-hm.

TLM: Great place.

EMP: Mm-hm.

TLM: What's the book?


EMP: Mm-hm.

TLM: What's the book?

EMP: I just wanted to read in quiet, if you don't mind.

TLM: No. Sure thing.

(Bell.)

TLM: Every place else seems to be taken.

EMP: Mm-hm.

TLM: Great place for reading.

EMP: Yes, I like it.

TLM: What's the book?

EMP: The Sound and the Fury.

TLM: Oh. Hemingway.

(Bell.)

TLM: What's the book?

EMP: The Sound and the Fury.

TLM: Oh. Faulkner.

EMP: Have you read it?

TLM: Not...actually. I've sure read about it, though. It's supposed to be great.

EMP: It is great.

TLM: I hear it's great. (Small pause) Waiter?

(Bell.)

TLM: What's the book?

EMP: The Sound and the Fury.

TLM: Oh. Faulkner.

EMP: Have you read it?

TLM: I'm a Quidditch fan, myself.

(Bell.)

EMP: Have you read it?

TLM: Yeah, I read it in college.

EMP: Where was college?

TLM: I went to Kobold University.

(Bell.)

EMP: Where was college?

TLM: I was lying. I never really went to college. I just like to party.

(Bell.)

EMP: Where was college?

TLM: The White Wizard Academy.

EMP: Do you like Faulkner?

TLM: I love Faulkner. I spent a whole winter reading him once.

EMP: I've just started.


EMP: I've just started.

TLM: I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote. One of the greatest reading experiences of my life. I mean, all that incredible psychological understanding. Page after page of gorgeous prose. His profound grasp of the mystery of time and human existence. The smells of the earth. . . . What do you think?

EMP: I think it's pretty boring.

(Bell.)

TLM: What's the book?

EMP: The Sound and the Fury.

TLM: Oh! Faulkner!

EMP: Do you like Faulkner?

TLM: I love Faulkner.

EMP: He's incredible.

TLM: I spent a whole winter reading him once.

EMP: I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote.

TLM: All that incredible psychological understanding.

EMP: And the prose is so gorgeous.

TLM: And the way he's grasped the mystery of time--

EMP: --and human existence. I can't believe I've waited this long to read him.

TLM: You never know. You might not have liked him before.

EMP: That's true.

TLM: You might not have been ready for him. You have to hit these things at the right moment or it's no good.

EMP: That's happened to me.

TLM: It's all in the timing. (Small pause.) My name's The Loop Master, by the way.

EMP: I'm The Wizard Empress.

TLM: Hi.

EMP: Hi. (Small pause.)

TLM: Yes I thought reading Faulkner was... a great experience.

EMP: Yes. (Small pause.)

TLM: The Sound and the Fury... (Another small pause.)


TLM: The Sound and the Fury... (Another small pause.)

EMP: Well. Onwards and upwards. (She goes back to her book..)

TLM: Waiter--?

(Bell.)

TLM: You have to hit these things at the right moment or it's no good.

EMP: That's happened to me.

TLM: It's all in the timing. My name's The Loop Master, by the way.

EMP: I'm The Wizard Empress.

TLM: Hi.

EMP: Hi.

TLM: Do you come in here a lot?

EMP: Actually I'm just in town for two days from the Quantum Downs.

TLM: Oh. The Quantum Downs.

(Bell.)

TLM: My name's The Loop Master, by the way.

EMP: I'm The Wizard Empress.

TLM: Hi.

EMP: Hi.

TLM: Do you come in here a lot?

EMP: Every once in a while. Do you?

TLM: Not so much anymore. Not as much as I used to. Before my nervous breakdown.

(Bell.)

TLM: Do you come in here a lot?

EMP: Why are you asking?

TLM: Just interested.

EMP: Are you really interested, or do you just want to pick me up?

TLM: No, I'm really interested.

EMP: Why would you be interested in whether I come in here a lot?

TLM: Just . . . getting acquainted.


TLM: Just . . . getting acquainted.

EMP: Maybe you're only interested for the sake of making small talk long enough to ask me back to your tower to listen to some music, or because you've just rented this great spell, or because you've got this terrific unknown Magus Wazir record, only all you really want to do is hook up which you won't do very well --after which you'll go into the bathroom and pee very loudly, then pad into the kitchen and get yourself a beer without asking me whether I'd like anything, and then you'll proceed to lie back down beside me and confess that you've got a girlfriend named Druid Diana of the Wood who's away at medical school in Calistas Citadel for a year, and that you've been involved with her--off and on--in what you'll call a very "complicated" relationship, for about seven YEARS. None of which interests me, mister!

TLM: Okay.

(Bell.)

TLM: Do you come in here a lot?

EMP: Every other day, I think.

TLM: I come in here quite a lot and I don't remember seeing you.

EMP: I guess we must be on different schedules.

TLM: Missed connections.

EMP: Yes. Different time zones.

TLM: Amazing how you can live right next door to somebody in this town and never even know it.

EMP: I know.

TLM: City life.

EMP: It's crazy.

TLM: We probably pass each other in the street every day. Right in front of this place, probably.

EMP: Yep.


EMP: Yep.

TLM(Looks around): Well the waiters here sure seem to be in some different time zone. I can't seem to locate one anywhere. . . .Waiter! (He looks back.). So what do you-- (He sees that she's gone back to her book)

EMP: I beg pardon?

TLM: Nothing. Sorry.

(Bell.)

EMP: I guess we must be on different schedules.

TLM: Missed connections.

EMP: Yes. Different time zones.

TLM: Amazing how you can live right next door to somebody in this town and never even know it.

EMP: I know.

TLM: City life.

EMP: It's crazy.

TLM: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

EMP: Actually I was.

TLM: Oh. Boyfriend?

EMP: Sort of.

TLM: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

EMP: My husband.

TLM: Ah-ha.

(Bell.)

TLM: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

EMP: Actually I was.

TLM: Oh. Boyfriend?

EMP: Sort of.

TLM: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

EMP: We were meeting here to break up.

TLM: Mm-hm. . .

(Bell.)

TLM: What's a sort-of boyfriend?

EMP: My lover. Here she comes right now!

(Bell.)

TLM: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

EMP: No, just reading.

TLM: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here, all by yourself?

EMP: Do you think so?


EMP: Do you think so?

TLM: Well sure. I mean, what's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night?

EMP: Trying to keep away from lines like that.

TLM: No, listen

(Bell.)

TLM: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

EMP: No, just reading.

TLM: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here all by yourself?

EMP: I guess it is, in a way.

TLM: What's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night anyway? No offense, but. . .

EMP: I'm out alone on a Friday night for the first time in a very long time.

TLM: Oh.

EMP: You see, I just recently ended a relationship.

TLM: Oh.

EMP: Of rather long standing.

TLM: I'm sorry.

(Small pause.)

Well listen, since reading by yourself is such a sad occupation for a Friday night, would you like to go elsewhere?

EMP: No . . .

TLM: Do something else?

EMP: No thanks.

TLM: I was headed out to the movies in a while anyway.

EMP: I don't think so.

TLM: Big chance to let Faulkner catch his breath. All those long sentences get him pretty tired.

EMP: Thanks anyway.

TLM: Okay.

EMP: I appreciate the invitation.

TLM: Sure thing.

(Bell.)

TLM: You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you?

EMP: No, just reading.

TLM: Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here all by yourself?


EMP: I guess I was trying to think of it as existentially romantic. You know--cappuccino, great literature, rainy night. . .

TLM: That only works in the Archipelago. We could hop a broom to Archipelago. Find a cafe. . .

EMP: I'm a little short on broom fare tonight.

TLM: Darn it, so am I.

EMP: To tell you the truth, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come

along? Since you can't locate a waiter?

TLM: That's a very nice offer, but. . .

EMP: Uh-huh. Girlfriend?

TLM: Two, actually. One of them's pregnant, and Diana--

(Bell.)

EMP: Girlfriend?

TLM: No, I don't have a girlfriend. Not if you mean the castrating witch I dumped last night.

(Bell.)

EMP: Girlfriend?

TLM: Sort of. Sort of.

EMP: What's a sort-of girlfriend?

TLM: My mother.

(Bell.)

TLM: I just ended a relationship, actually.

EMP: Oh.

TLM: Of rather long standing.

EMP: I'm sorry to hear it.

TLM: This is my first night out alone in a long time. I feel a little bit at sea, to tell you the truth.

EMP: So you didn't stop to talk because you're a Weird Wizz, or you have some weird political affiliation--?

TLM: Nope. Straight-down-the-ticket Red Wizard.

(Bell.)

Straight-down-the-ticket Blue Wizard.

(Bell.)

Can I tell you something about politics?

(Bell.)

I like to think of myself a citizen of the Runiverse.

(Bell.)


I like to think of myself a citizen of the Runiverse.

(Bell.)

TLM: Im unaffiliated.

EMP: That's a relief. So am I.

TLM: I vote my beliefs.

EMP: Labels are not important.

TLM: Labels are not important, exactly. Take me, for example. I mean, what does it matter if I had a two-point at

(Bell.)

-three-point at

(Bell.)

four-point at college? Or if I did come from Cuckoo Land

(Bell.)

The Toadstools

(Bell.)

The Capital?

EMP: Sure.

TLM: I believe that a man is what he is.

(Bell.)

A person is what he is.

(Bell.)

A wizard is. . . what they are.

EMP: I think so too.

TLM: So what if I admire the Lich Emperor Supreme?

(Bell.)

So what if I once had a total-body liposuction?

(Bell.)

So what if I don't have any magic?

(Bell.)

So what if I once spent a year in the Wizard Peace Corps? I was acting on my convictions.

EMP: Sure.

TLM: You just can't hang a sign on a person.

EMP: Absolutely. I'll bet you're a Mercury.

(Many bells ring.)

Listen, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come along?

TLM: That sounds like fun. What's playing?

EMP: A couple of the really early Wizzy Allen movies.

TLM: Oh.

EMP: You don't like Wizzy Allen?

TLM: Sure. I like Wizzy Allen.

EMP: But you're not crazy about Wizzy Allen.


EMP: But you're not crazy about Wizzy Allen.

TLM: Those early ones kind of get on my nerves.

EMP: Uh-huh.

(Bell.)

TLM: Y'know I was headed to the--

EMP (Simultaneously): I was thinking about--

TLM: I'm sorry.

EMP: No, go ahead.

TLM: I was going to say that I was headed to the movies in a little while, and. . .

EMP: So was I.

TLM: The Wizzy Allen festival?

EMP: Just up the street.

TLM: Do you like the early ones?

EMP: I think anybody who doesn't ought to be run off the planet.

TLM: How many times have you seen Big Potion Company Man?

EMP: Eight times.

TLM: Twelve. So are you still interested? (Long pause.)

EMP: Do you like Fermented Milk. . .?

TLM: Last night I went out at two in the morning to get a bottle. Did you have a Witch-a-Sketch as a child?

EMP: Yes! And do you like Brussels sprouts? (Pause.)

TLM: I think theyre disgusting.

EMP: They are disgusting!

TLM: Do you still believe in marriage in spite of current sentiments against it?

EMP: Yes.

TLM: And children?

EMP: Three of them.

TLM: Two girls and a boy.

EMP: Elena, Carly and Zaros of Dream Master Lake.

TLM: And will you love me?

EMP: Yes.

TLM: And cherish me forever?

EMP: Yes.

TLM: Do you still want to go to the movies?

EMP: Sure thing.

THE LOOP MASTER AND THE WIZARD EMPRESS (Together): Waiter!


THE LOOP MASTER AND THE WIZARD EMPRESS (Together): Waiter!

Remix Credit: Sure Thing (1988) by David Ives


# The Lore of Archmagus Aleister of the Platonic Shadow

Aleister, a mysterious wizard living on aldo's island, he and his partner, Isy the Owl, have traveled across the continent to find a lost ancient apple with immense power. When he found the apple, he tried to use it to create a magic device that could control all undead creatures. Unfortunately, he was defeated by some so-called heroes. After the failure, Aleister retired to the island, secretly brewing the next evil plan, and he wanted those who prevented him to taste pain.


Arcanist Eden of the Belfry

# The Lore of Arcanist Eden of the Belfry

Born the bastard child of an unknown clergyman, the bell-tower is the only home Eden has ever known. Her mother, an orphan herself, gave Eden to the bell-ringer of the church as she knew a single mother has little hope of providing for a child in the Red city.

In her youth Eden would peer down from the top of the bell tower and cast judgement upon the red hatted wizards with their riches and exotic pets and think to herself how unjust it should be that some are born with so much and she be relegated to a life of bell tolling.


Mystic Aleister of the Hollow

THE STORY OF MYSTIC ALEISTER OF THE HOLLOW

When one first starts their journey with magic they dont often understand the great cost that must be paid for power. As nature demands balance so too does magic, and there is never a way to reverse what has been done.

There is a burning bright light that shines upon Mystic Aleister of the Hollow, from his very own Star staff, a brightness that gleams in glory, that sets aflame the greens of his robes and the yellowing emerald of his eyes. Eyes that hold eternal wisdom and a world of valuable knowledge. This light is a symbol of his hardships through life and the perils he has endured for his power and goal to save the world.

With him, a trustworthy forest frog companion named Fern, and the bright Star staff from the meteor that destroyed the Empty Forest, he continues to travel, setting his mark with every location he visits, leaving an impactful reminder of who he is despite his mysterious demeanor.

Thousands of years ago, when he was but a child and the forgotten runes had yet to fade slowly from existence, he took a liking to the nature of the world. His love for it grew with every moment he spent learning magic and its ways, how it could be manipulated to his touch, how it could react to his touch. Back then, he had only his hands to use for his powers, but his skill for magic proved to be high, and he could not reach his full potential confined to one forest, so his community in the Empty Forest agreed to let him travel for his studies.


With that he was sent away, trekking scorching deserts, meeting elder wizards who taught him the secrets hidden within the general knowledge of magic, concealed under the folds of what is known, to discover what other wizards refused to reveal. He learned how to conjure spirits and create unbreakable enchantments, but the one thing he had been pursuing that eventually gave him his power was Green Magic and the dangers of using it. The magic of nature. He learned that nature demanded a balance. Nature always demanded balance.

That was how he was able to provide balance for Green Magic from within himself or from others and learned how to manipulate it for his benefit. However, one enchantment may mean a flower withers and dies, and a curse may mean a day of exhaustion from the energy the magic demanded. He spent years mastering the magic of balance, and soon he started to radiate power that was unmatched by other Green wizards. His name started spreading through all corners of the world and he had become successful in what he had set out to do.

Achieving his passion for nature, he journeyed home, eager to finally see his family once more. He had awaited their proud faces for many years, endured every aching magical discovery so that he would one day hear their cheers for him.
But what waited for him there was nothing short of a tragedy. With very few survivors, the Empty Forest, which had once been his home, had been completely destroyed from the explosion of an oncoming meteor.


The people who survived informed him that the meteor had obliterated a large portion of the forest, starting a blazing forest fire that none of the other magic users could extinguish, they were sympathetic for his loss as he wept, his tears salting the ground where a seedling popped through the coarse dirt. A living being and a reminder of his guilt. Had he been there perhaps he could have saved them or at least died trying.
He was told that the meteor still burned bright within the forest somewhere. That the magic of the forest had been sucked into the meteor, feeding the light, making its light eternal. The magic of the forest had always been ancient, it held the power of all the forgotten runes and if that magic had somehow survived the meteor explosion then Aleister was determined to find it. If only to keep the memory of his childhood home close at heart.

He began his journey, through the Empty Forest that had started scarcely trying to rebuild itself but was still barren of all life. All life except for one. While he was travelling the forest, burnt and crisp and dead, he began to realise he was lost. The explosion had destroyed his home to the point of no recognition that when he tried to remember it, he realised there was nothing that could spark his memory. He was contemplating giving up when a quiet croak snapped his head, turning to the sound. A bright green frog, a green that resembled his eyes, stared curiously at him as if to ask What are you doing?

He stared back, struck and in awe that there was still a spark of life left within this dead forest. He inched forward to pick it up, and reluctantly the frog stepped onto his outstretched hand. Aleister had never experienced an appreciation for life the way he did when he met that frog. The way its body rose and fell with every breath, the way it stared, half with wonderment and half with fear.


Fern, was the only thing Aleister uttered in that moment. The word said in barely a breath, barely a whisper. The frog hopped off and Aleister felt the need to follow it. Even as every bone in his body ached and screamed for him to travel no more, to give up the search for the meteor. He still continued following the frog. The frog moved fast, hopping from stone to stone to burnt logs until they reached a clearing.
https://nftz.forgottenrunes.com/wizards/alt/400-nobg/wizard-3172.pnghttps://nftz.forgottenrunes.com/wizards/alt/400-nobg/wizard-3172.png
A space where the trees had been scorched to the bottom of their trunk and a hole in the ground had formed. There was no other location in the forest Aleister had travelled to that was as black and burnt as the hole that had been created from the meteor. His heart cleaved in two at the sight of it. He had never seen a clear definition for Destruction until that moment. The frog croaked, staring at him, as if it had been leading him there the whole time.

Aleister climbed down the hole; a faint glow shone brighter as he neared it. The meteor was practically the shape of a small boulder, how something so small could cause such chaos was unbelievable to Aleister. His hand reached forward to touch it and upon the movement, the meteor blazed as bright as the sun. He had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldnt be blinded by its brightness.


The meteor then gave a deafening crack and revealed a starlike staff, blazing with power. The result of the death of the forest. Aleister realised then, the true balance of nature. What the meteor took from him, the life and the power of the forest all fused into one and settled within the staff. The staff held more power than most wizards could dream of, and it reacted to his touch. Because he was born from the forest, his heritage lay in the forest.

It was as if the staff was made for him. The moment he held that staff, everything changed. His dreams grew and he sought to prevent what had happened in the Empty Forest to other places. With his newfound power and his animal companion, he continued exploring the world, leaving his mark everywhere he went.
More and more people started hearing his name, fearing, hating, and loving him. But never finding him. He was never in one place for too long, for the call to adventure never ended and he was always following it. He saved many kingdoms, but also led many to destruction. And he was always searching. Searching for the one quest that would quench the parasite feeding from the guilt within him.

Guilt born from his return to his home forest, from his inability to save those he loved and from his inability to save his home. For years he spent roaming the world hoping to somehow fill the void inside him that was an endless pit of regrets, he was utterly heartbroken. His return home had changed him forever and Aleister was no longer the wizard who had left the Empty Forest, he was no longer the young boy who was full of hopes and dreams.


Mystic Aleister of The Hollow became a name spoken with curiosity, he is regarded by many people as the Man who disappears but never truly leaves. A magical enigma who cant be found but seems to be everywhere. And with every passing day he grows stronger, the magic of his Star staff never ending, he inches further and further into insanity despite his good intentions, as the guilt eats away at him from the inside.
He is seemingly forever alone, never staying in one place and never showing his vulnerability to others, he does not trust that he can connect with people, and he is afraid that if he does they will disappear like his home forest. So, he remains a lone wolf by choice, save for the animal companion, Fern.

But he can be trailed, as the first few days after he leaves a location, there is a trace of seedlings that sprout from the ground, many believe that it is like the seedling that was born from his tears the first day he arrived at the Empty Forest when it was destroyed, and that the trace of sprouting seedlings he leaves behind is simply the tears he has wept as he recounts the memory of his loss.


Or that it is simply the traces if magic left as the bright light of his staff shines on the ground, for that measure of magic from the forest could not be trapped in a small staff without spills. Nevertheless, no one will ever know, as he refuses to reveal himself until he decides to, disappearing whenever he is known for too long.
He continues bringing the memory of his home wherever he goes, and every time he has completed a quest, defeated a beast, or saved a kingdom he leaves a reminder of his presence in the form of a wild oak tree. Like the one he would laze under in his childhood and wonder about the power of nature. The oak tree would always become fully grown within a week, covered in moss no matter the location and completely immortal and undying. Leaving a piece of the magic from his forest in the oak tree.

It is said that when one waters the oak tree a leaf will fall from a branch and land on the nose of the one who watered it, showing that person their potential future and what dreams they can accomplish, but also shows what you will lose upon following those dreams as Aleister was always a firm believer in the karma of the universe.

One cannot achieve a dream without a price, there is always a price for everything.
Despite this, he continues to give gifts to the world, giving and giving and refusing to receive. He believes that this will someday make up for what happened in the Empty Forest. That it will somehow silence the voice in his head that continues to haunt him and accuse him of being at fault for what happened in his past. And because of this voice, many people have often looked upon Mystic Aleister of The Hollow and believed him to be insane. As he rambles about the importance of balance within nature and how he must restore it so he can forgive himself.


However, even after years of saving kingdoms, bestowing blessings and destroying evil he has still not forgiven himself; he is in a constant, never ending cycle of grief and self-hatred that despite the balance being restored he does not see it that way.
And that is the known story of Mystic Aleister of The Hollow.


Enchanter Aleister of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Enchanter Aleister of the Cosmos

It is likely that you meet The Enchanter Aleister of the Cosmos  in a tavern. He is lurking in a corner table and waits for the perfect moment to start with his magic show which is mostly based on card tricks. It is not uncommon that his bat (with the lovely name Tharguz) collects some coins he gets from impressed Wizards.

What most Wizards don't know yet: The Enchanter Aleister of the Cosmos also masters black magic and serves one of the most powerful villains...


Sorcerer Wazir of the Wood

#  Wazir of the Wood

A sorcerer by trade and a Djinn by creation, the decades Wazir spent as a military conscript for the Red Hats had left his mind vengeful and his body scarred.

> Once released from the bonds of servitude, the sorcerer sought refuge amongst the dark brambles and overgrown thickets of The Fey Forest. It was here that he earned the title - Wazir of the Wood.

Looking back on his conscription, it wasn't that he had been opposed to the violence of it all; in fact, he quite enjoyed the opportuntity to showcase his power, he simply loathed that his Djinn nature compelled him to fulfill the wishes of his masters. It was the forfeiture of his own free-will and his loss of agency that angered him.

> Fueled by the desire to repay his former captors, Wazir spent his years in the forest searching for a way to remedy the one aspect of his Djinn nature that stood between him and retribution -- Djinns cannot kill.


Sorcerer Apollo of the Ether

# The Lore of Sorcerer Apollo of the Ether

Sorcerer Apollo is a hermit who spends his life movingconstantlyacross the land, leaving a trail ofdevastation anddestruction in his wake. He travels with his collapsible staff, which due to its ability to convert one element into another, is nicknamed The Midas Rod by those unlucky enough to have seen its effects.

The head of the staff contains a tiny amount of strange matter, collected long ago from within the quantum shadow, which when touched against a material can transmute it for as long as it is supplied with energy.

It is a risky and difficult piece of magic but by carefully balancing the energy requirement of the staff, against energy he generates through the use of his rune of steel on a second object, he has the ability to produce unlimited amounts of gold wherever he goes.

Initially when he arrives in a new town he is welcomed with open arms as his coins are made of pure gold and are worth far more than the existing debased currency. As he keeps on paying for goods and services with pure gold the people he is buying from ask for more and more gold until prices start increasing exponentially.

This eventually causes the entire economy to collapse with only those being paid directly by Apollo receiving gold fast enough to be able to buy even basic goods and the rest of the workforce departing with all the gold they can carry, leaving behind fields filled with rotting crops, closed mines andempty shops.

As more and more people leave the town it becomes less and less pleasant to live in, with even basic services ceasing due to a lack of workers. Only then does Apollo pick up his staff and continue his endless journey towards a new town filled with unsuspecting citizens who cant remember the last time he passed through.


Adept Rita of the Mist

this wizard is the epitome of the forgotten ones. this wizard is a guide that gives clues and gems . He is a loner that shines when he's underestimated.
he lives among the valley of the void desciple Where he is on a quest to glory. as he travels through the ruts and dirt he becomes stronger and wiser. he Is guided by his rabit to conquer his fears.
As I walk through this mystery place full clues, gems and a lot really important life lessons.Ive  learned along the way trying to find my way in this world can be extremely difficult this wizards character has the potential to help me conquer it all. This symbol of all the distractions in the world that helps come alive like music specifically man on the moon by kid cudi.
This wizard represents the your big brother , a mentor and a friend.
As this wizard go on his journey he knows deep down theres a light at the end of tunnel so he keeps the faith. This wizard journey is very unique and special. Joining forces with like minded wizards of 5 with same goal which is to retrieve gold that was hidden by the emperor and use the gold to take care of the oppressed people of  the village. Amongst the 5 of us we each have powers to that makes us strong as a unit we each make up for whatever other person lacks. At times this wizard will isolate his self just gather his thoughts and quite his mind. Whenever hes around the group his ability to express his self is a struggle so he keeps all his thoughts bottled and uses if needed. This is often mistaken for weakness but thats one of the wizard powers which helps to make the outsiders view him as the underdog but this wizard illuminates himself whenever he is heavily underestimated by the masses. This wizards imperfections helps him to realize later on in his journey are actually his strengths.


Journey started when I attended a school for the forgotten runes. This wizard was isolated wiz that was scared to express himself. Until he met 5 other wiz that kind of helped him to come out of his shell.


Thaumaturge Ophelia of the Isle

# The Lore of Thaumaturge Ophelia of the Isle

The purest wizard's family blood line from early 15 century. Friendly and warm hearted. Created the spells about commanding the food and wrote the most famous cooking reciepe book. Like cooking for his loved ones, travelling around the world and tasting unknown food. The green hair came out due to he ate a poisonous mushrooms when he was 14. Oops, he really does not like pet.


Alchemist Remus of the Hall

# The Lore of Alchemist Remus of the Hall

**If all the world and love were young,**

**And truth in every shepherd's tongue,**

**These pretty pleasures might me move**

**To live with thee and be thy love.**

**Time drives the flocks from field to fold**

**When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,**

**And Philomel becometh dumb;**

**The rest complains of cares to come.**

**The flowers do fade, and wanton fields**

**To wayward winter reckoning yields;**

**A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.**

**Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,**

**Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies**

**Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten--**

**In folly ripe, in reason rotten.**

**

**Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,**

**Thy coral clasps and amber studs,**

**All these in me no means can move**

**To come to thee and be thy love.**

**But could youth last and love still breed,**

**Had joys no date nor age no need,**

**Then these delights my mind might move**

**To live with thee and be thy love.**


Illusionist David of the Veil

# The Lore of Illusionist David of the Veil

## Chapter 1. The Runic Mausoleum of Pleasure.

Right, picture this. Im trudging through Hedge Wizard Wood on my way to Fur Gnome Wold (_you can probably guess what for)_ when I spy a cheeky little cave entrance amongst the shrubbery.

Hello, I say. Lets take a gander old chap.

The old chap in question is Leroy my familiar. He croaks his swift approval and we dive in. The rocky walls soon turn to smooth sandstone and I realize weve hit the jackpot.

Aha! Looks like were dungeon diving again old bean. Dibs on the first chest.

Leroy croaks again.

Its starting to get a bit hard to see as we descend deeper into the bowels of the dungeon so I spark up the Solar Staff and throw some light about the place.

Aha! I yell, scooping up a fat coin purse. Looks like an extra week at the Wold for us my boy.

Its at this moment that I hear the heavy breathing

I swing the Solar Staff toward the far corner of the room and am confronted by a horrendously obese Dwarv wearing nothing but a leather loin cloth.

Egads! I yell. Have some decency old chap.

Leroy croaks yet again.

The round little chap in front of us appears to be rubbing some sort of oily substance over his shiny skin. He is positively gleaming in the light of the staff. Hes moaning in a manner that Ive heard many a time before (_during my previous visits to the Wold_) and licking his surprisingly plump lips.

Oh bollocks.


Oh bollocks.

As the greasy Dwarv begins to move toward us I hear a clattering sound over my left shoulder. Spinning around I find a reanimated skeleton wearing what can only be described as a gimp mask. Its twirling a set of shackles in its boney hand.

Sorry chaps were saving ourselves for the Wold.

The greased Dwarv and the kinky skel dont want to hear it by the looks of things so I decide its time to get us out of there the old fashioned way.

Get ready to hop Leroy old boy.

I raise the Solar Staff and give it a shake.The fat fellow and his rattly companion immediately lock onto the vision Ive manifested in the centre of the room. They shuffle toward it eagerly, the moans coming from the Dwarv sounding like two asthmatic pigs rutting.

Now, I whisper.

Leroy and my good self slide toward the entrance to this den of lust as our two would-be seducers collide in a ball of oiled blubber and leather clad bone.

Enjoy your evening lads. Well show ourselves out.

We pop out of the cave entrance and I let out a hearty laugh.

Leroy stares up at me and croaks.

It was a simple little illusion, my boy. Griselda the Kobold Princess from my old carnival days. The dance of a hundred veils always gets the blood pumping. Speaking of which I think we can still make the Wold by nightfall.

I throw back my head and laugh as I jingle the coin purse.


Sorcerer Angus of the Cosmos

# The Lore of Sorcerer Angus of the Cosmos

Plagued by loneliness and overwhelmed with self-doubt, Angus was always seeking escape from reality.

In fact, when Angus was but a child he was so fond of escape by any means that one day he went outside during a freezing cold snowstorm and wrestled a polar bear to death.

Keep in mind that our dear Angus was hardly three feet tall at this time.

He still wears that polar bear skin atop his head almost every hour of every day as a way to keep the shadowy demon spirits of his mind at bay because for some reason, Angus is convinced that dead polar bear skins repell such evils.

So how then, you must be asking yourself, is Angus still the victim of such dreadful loneliness and self-doubt that he is constantly seeking escape from reality?

No reason.

Some time after Angus first skinned that aforementioned polar bear and began to adorn it's skin as a headdress (both for the swag and the supposed demonic protection), Angus began to discover his powers of sorcery.

It is not precisely known exactly how Angus discovered his talents, as he has never actually relayed the experience to anyone other than his faithful pet cat, aptly named "Whiskers," but his magical powers have nevertheless continued to help him to escape reality without actually being able to completely escape reality.

Because that would be impossible of course.

Angus has been known to shapeshift whenever he feels like it, but most of the time he chooses not to, because to his utmost dismay, he is unable to bring his polar bear headdress with him into the next form. He has tried many times, consulted many other wizards, shapeshifters, and sorcerers alike; all to no avail.


No matter what he tries to do, that headdress just falls to the floor as soon as he changes form, and as anyone who has ever battled spirits before will surely attest to, the demons of the mind stay with the mind no matter what form a soul takes at any given moment.

A real pity for our dear Angus indeed.

But that is of no matter, because these days Angus rarely uses his magical powers anymore unless absolutely necessary.

And since his life is rather solitary as a result of his desire to escape reality, sometimes he might play a few magical spells for Whiskers whenever Whiskers is in a playful mood.

Whiskers enjoys that very much.

Ah yes, it would be important to note at this point that Whiskers has been made immortal by Angus' spellcraft only a short time after Angus discovered his abilities. This means that Whiskers will forever be the same age, but since bliss cats continually grow in both wisdom and cunning, Whiskers is no exception despite her immortal state.

Angus and Whiskers live a rather solitary life, as alluded to earlier, but considering they are together, life is not as lonely as it might seem.

They have also perfected their abilities to keep themselves entertained no matter what else is going on in the world of the Forgotten Runes. As such, Angus can often be found in his fields chopping wheat with his scythe, which as fortune would have it, also makes him feel safe from the ever-looming dangers of the demons of his mind.

He also feels that his trusty scythe also gives off a certain aesthetic allure and mystique for the rare occasions that Angus (and Whiskers too, of course) actually go out and socialize with the rest of the Wizard world, whether that be in a simple tavern or library or one of the many towns that Angus will reluctantly go to if he is feeling like he wants to procreate.