ArenaSnow

Wizard's Tower (a magic medieval-fantasy RP)

Vlantian heard - no, felt - a summons by who he suspected to be the host; the prince.

He distrusted the style of summons; perhaps it was because he was slightly old fashioned? Nonsense, everyone can take the time to summon the right way...

He didn't have any love for the 'prince', for he was most likely another who had no aptitude nor appreciation for the oldest form of practiced civilized magic. Unless he somehow dug runic mages out of mountain caverns, he doubted anyone else in the place would either. If they even knew a thing about it; he alone was only known in the underground sectors and by reputation of what was termed 'The Ruined Castle'. Ruined it was not, as it served him for... never mind. A little too long, and he quickly shoved the age out of his mind.

He reasoned that he could leave his now completed tablet in here, but decided to put it under the bed. He wouldn't be the latest by any means, and he felt in no rush. he put the robes of his grandfather on; they contained almost every low and mid level rune to be known, and a few higher ones as well. It was truly the work of many focused minds to create it. Certainly more detail and more dangerous than the so called 'modern magics'.

With that in mind, he shouldered on the rest of the robes and kept his runic daggar at his side. One couldn't be too careful. He would leave the sword reluctantly, but he was not a fool to go with no offensive protection. His robes could take a number of blows, physical and magical, but the runes were getting old.

Stepping out into the walkway, he began to make his way to the private chambers of the Prince. How? He wasn't entirely sure... he just was.

RP "data dump"

Sherlock Holmes, Kangaroo, Hank

mod report list

Box Õ

*Not entirely certain if that last message was for him, he crosses her wrists in front and tightly ties them in a figure eight. The cords circle her wrists over and over, pulling tight into her. He then moves her hands up above and just behind her head. Much of the coil hangs from her bound hands. He wraps it around her torso, above and below her chest, before knotting it under her bosom* There's a good start don't you think?

Wizard's Tower (a magic medieval-fantasy RP)

Alas, a post can only come tomorrow, as it is late for me.

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

^ I have no complaints with the above.

Wizard's Tower (a magic medieval-fantasy RP)

5 runes added, more to be had someday.

How good are the tower's resources regarding Runic magic?

Wizard's Tower (a magic medieval-fantasy RP)

Some muttered curses and fifteen minutes later, Vlantian had the center of his new protective rune tablet complete. At its heart was a Nef rune, one that he had to dedicate considerable thought to twisting into the right direction of powering the tablet as a whole, surrounded by four Zets, three for the room and one for the door, two of the room ones dedicated to anti-psychic capabilities. He wasn't sure how effective it would be on the tower at large; he would usually have no problem with it and trust the runes, but with the creator of the tower being the Primus, even the durability of runic magic could be questioned.

He wondered if anyone else had even met a Runic mage, or indeed knew what a runic mage was. He saw some other interesting folks enter before he did, so he wondered, if only for a minute, what they would be like. Then he remembered his half-finished tablet.

He considered activating the runes right there. It would save him an easy twenty minutes and get the job done... but no, he had to add six El's, otherwise he would lose all concentration. He hoped that his years of experience and skipping sleep would make sure his runeword didn't come out with side effects. He had chosen low end, easily drawn runes for that reason.

At least they are easy enough to make...

With that in mind, he began the task, switching to his third ink bottle.

Wizard's Tower (a magic medieval-fantasy RP)

Diversity wise, sure. But it would probably only benefit if someone used it.

If it's going to be used, then sure, have it!

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

By all means :)

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

As of now, unless a character (wink wink) wishes to intercept Artholath, he'll have a clear shot at the mayor.

RP "data dump"

North

The North, or specifically, the top third portion of landmass of the Western Continent, is a hardy place of extremes and ultimate survivalists. Filled with beasts, gruff lone wolves and small but formidable civilizations long undisturbed, it is a place of mystery and charm to outsiders. Those who live there know the struggles of fighting off bears and natural, though dangerous beasts of other sorts. Plants that attack unprepared bystanders? Commonplace. Poison berries? You should be concerned when you find a berry that doesn't seem to be poisoned, for there is likely something else wrong with it. Crazy old men with beards living in tree shacks talking to monkeys? Probably the sane ones, and they usually make better ale than the combined efforts of the few villages scattered about.

Why in the world would anyone want to go there? Adventure? Insanity? Escaping from a band of bloodstained knights on horseback that just got done murdering everyone else in your city because the city council refused to give up some noble's daughter?

The first two, perhaps not so much. The last? Common story for the flood of refugees that have attempted to move in from all over the world, half of whom die before they even get there and another quarter dead the moment they spend more than a day in the forest. The quarter that remains is already countering the number of natives, and while they often have troubles adapting, it's a far better trade than what the rest of the world is up to. Namely, mass scale civil wars, degeneration of a formerly unstable society and increasingly rampant demons that usually trickle out of the latest city sacked by one of the newly-spawned demon lords. The Eastern Continent is already lost to chaos, and the Western Continent barely retains any sense of sanity.

What happened to make the world come to this? Long, long story.

Perhaps you're a hardcore native, pissed off at the number of special snowflakes that barged in and thought they had a right to your homeland. Perhaps you're a refugee, recently escaped from the south or, if you're extremely lucky or extremely rich, the Eastern Continent. Maybe you're just a poor sod who's lived in a little home in an insignificant village and took a cookie from the kind witch that came in every week to say hello. Whoever you are, it doesn't matter. You're in a little village called Madoa, somewhere in the northern forests, and it is in the late winter that things get interesting.