#thedungeonrun

[daughterofawish]

Day 1: brief notes

Why do you need my blood? - because they were trying to make a replica of me, but now they have me, no longer needed

More info about dad - AM knows how to find him, and wants to find him so she can find out what EXACTLY he Wished for

What is it that you hope to gain? You want power, but why? What’s in it for you? - The Wardens are covering up the Renaissance of science and magic

What is the nucleus? What does that model mean? composed of protons and neutrons, 8 spheres, electrons. AM says Onevrious the Keen theorized that the entire universe is made up of tiny bits called atoms, all interactions between objects can be explained by breaking it down to the atomic level. He even tried to formulate a description of magic based on the atom. It’s led to the AM’s discoveries. Vargen took them to new extremes.

What was the urn? They created it, and they need my help? To create it again.

Turning Yon Mo: 

Crustacean hammer with Uggo the Brave - seems to still have it

Remind him of his parents Cho Ron and Cho Mel - gets angry and defiant.

Rightful King of the Shaxen Gao - somehow not a good enough angle.

He is still bitter and angry about the Message to find Oochalas Voi and Ochalas Vey.

Mentioning the escape from the Nameless Few and the Empire to Castle Rum, Wingersticks... did not work. He will not budge.

Don’t tell her about the Locate Warden spell. If she finds out, tell her it only tells me the general cardinal direction. 

What was I supposed to do? Let her kill my friends? Let her kill Xenalka? I know I’ll be aiding the Ashen Mage, but when choosing between certainty of killing them, and a chance that we may wreak havoc on the world, I choose a chance. Because I believe in my friends, I believe in their will to save the world. Maybe I can honor Vic’s wishes - I can’t believe I’m saying that - and follow in her footsteps.

[scottbratek]

Lord Arrabann #thedungeonrun #dnd #nyc #nycart #study #art #artist #atl#brooklynart #miami #miamiart #artmiami #scottbratek #artnyc #artatlanta #artislife #instaart #draw #drawing #sketching #sketchbook #crosshatching #crosshatch #pen #practice #instaart #dailyart #lordarrabann (at Miami, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDMUknGpyqs/?igshid=ql89bv1j0ere

[jamieroxx]

🎧 Tonight's Episode #879! of #JamieRoxx’s Pop Roxx Radio #TalkShow & #Podcast where my Featured Guest was: Jessica Lynn Parsons ​ (#actress: Surviving Confession / #Film: 2019, #Comedy | #Drama) ● and #thedungeonrun (Every Wed at 6pm PST) www.caffeine.tv/thedungeonrun has now been converted to a Podcast and is now archived at: ✔ My Website: www.JamieRoxx.us ✔ BlogTalkRadio: http://tobtr.com/11432861 ✔ and up for FREE on Apple Podcasts: https://tinyurl.com/hjdpqb6 Pop Art Painter Jamie Roxx (www.JamieRoxx.us) welcomes Jessica Lynn Parsons (actress: Surviving Confession / Film: 2019, Comedy | Drama) to the Show! ● www.facebook.com/SurvivingConfession ● thedungeonrun: https://www.caffeine.tv/thedungeonrun Producer Jo Rauen and Director Matthew Tibbenham the very talented new filmmaker duo behind July 30 comedy-drama, Surviving Confession. A disgruntled priest, conflicted with his faith, has his world turned upside down when an unlikely person enters his confessional. ● Offsite Player for non Apple Podcast Subscribers to download the Full Episode as an Mp3 and also HMTL code for Embedding the Full Episode into Blogs and Websites:

[warriorsofficial]

Y’ALL COME JOIN ME IN WATCHING THE DUNGEON RUN, IM Lazyanon IN THE CHAT.

[daughterofawish]

Something is Rotten in the State of Demons

Normally, I think it’s generally unfair to enter a monster’s territory where it’s minding its own business and destroy it. To me, monsters are innocent, just as beasts are. Yes, to most they’re not pretty, and yes - they can do great harm should you cross their path. So can a giant crocodile, or a pack of wolves. Of course it will attack - you’ve either intruded on its afternoon tea and it must defend its home, or it is biologically programmed to prey on you. In either case, subduing the creature so you can move past it unharmed is my preferred method. Now, there are several exceptions to the “Hamlet” rule:

1. If a monster viscously attacks a companion and subduing it is not an option.

2. If a monster is an invasive species, a humane extermination is appropriate.

3. Demons

All I’ve ever read and heard about demons (or devils, fiends - whatever you want to call them) is they possess unbridled selfishness, cruelty, hatred, and greed.  Their lust for power will drive them to torment anything that breathes. They are truly chaotic beings and represent the opposite of innocence - they seek to harm others and lay waste to the world. Aberrations and undead possess a similar level of sentience to demons, but many of them will keep to themselves if not provoked. Some are even known to communicate harmoniously with humanoids. As far as I am aware, there are no demons or fiends who would not immediately seek to destroy or enslave another creature. 

My conjured elementals are just incorporeal forms made of magic, and are not sentient. They can only obey commands, and do not possess feelings or desires. Yes, it is a possibility that if I lose my concentration, the magic could be so potent that I lose control of the conjuration. However, a greater risk is posed when summoning demons. When a demon is brought to this plane of existence, they persistently resist control. If the caster loses control, the demon will attack anything in its path.

James has the capability of summoning a demon. He says he has no interest in doing so, and I trust James, so I think if he ever did summon a demon he would have the best intentions. But I’m not so sure about what Shothragot has in mind for him. James could be manipulated or forced to do it. He’s chosen a dark path once before.  I know he can sometimes feel lost or powerless, and I fear his desire for control could warp those intentions and turn it into something he’ll regret. When you bring something into this world that only hates and destroys, and then you use it effectively to destroy others, how does that direct your advancement with arcane power? It doesn’t bode well, and I hope we never have to worry about it.

Art by SprinkWinkle

[daughterofawish]

The Story of Little Girl Red

My experimentation with Blood Lance and Spare has me pondering the utility of blood magic. It has such a dark reputation (for good reason) but perhaps there is a way to invent more necromatic/abjuraration blend spells that can heal the injured and cure diseases. Perhaps even advance spells that affect the body, such as transmutation spells or even astral projection.

there once was a little girl red who healed her friends when she bled though it hurt badly she gave the blood gladly for alive friends are better than dead

In the wee hours of my watch, this research must have inspired me, because this first stanza flowed from my quill to the page in one furious scrawl! It seems deserving of a story... I have another hour until my watch is over - I shall try my hand at writing a fairy tale:

this power was not always hers it’s not something little girls learn dark magic keeps hidden occult and forbidden for the desire and madness it stirs

some say she learned from a fiend while others say a god intervened but despite what you’ve heard about how it occurred the truth lies somewhere between

little girl red loved to wander in search of what was beyond her she’d been warned not to go so far from home but her wish for adventure was stronger

far in the woods she would look strayed far from the path that she took she stopped suddenly for there in the leaves lied a curious, small tattered book

its cover was leather and worn the binding had frayed and torn but what was inside was much a surprise something she'd not seen before

strange symbols were written in gold and drawings of creatures untold her heart beating louder an eerie dark power began drawing her in to its fold

I must warn you about the next part It's not for those faint of heart it was this moment she could have closed it but magic is tough to outsmart

a voice in her head took hold whispered in a language unknown she pulled out her knife and cut with a strike all the way down to the bone

the girl stood swaying in shock A river of red on her smock she loosened her grip and watched as it dripped then unknowingly started to walk

strangely she was without fear something was drawing her near after much time had passed she stopped with a gasp for there laid a small wounded deer

she gently knelt by the doe its breathing was starting to slow with one outstretched hand she spoke a command and her own cut started to glow

with wonder she watched as she bled the little deer started to mend while she was in pain it wasn't in vain for it healed something else instead

a life she'd be able to save with just an old book and a blade if this was the price she didn't think twice and left her small town unafraid

[daughterofawish]

Back to the Beginning

Hello, diary. You’re looking woefully empty. Gone are my notes about the Nightmare Pegacorn, Kopru, Salvagemanders, Achaerai, and Fire Belchers. The unsent letters to my dad are blank pages. Without my transcriptions and notes on spells, I’ll be able to recall little more than the few spells I still have here: Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Snare... useful, but not the power we’ll need going up against a dragon. It’s funny how useless a wizard can be without their little book of magic. I can see now why some wizards take weeks transcribing their spells into multiple notebooks, hiding them in locations throughout Aïn should one get damaged or disappear. Flipping through my neat, precise notes shows me just how far I’ve come from the naive young girl who left Axbright with nothing but a backpack and a few gold in her pockets. She was fearless, reckless, and had a big name to live up to; a chip on her shoulder that made her think she could take on the world by herself. While I’m still that girl, making mistakes when my ego is too fast for my brain, it’s been sobering to see how much of the world is in need. I left Axbright on a mission to find my dad and to follow in his footsteps exploring the exciting world he told me about. The world is exciting - there’s flying pigs (well, just one), a city made of scrap, a Duck Duke, silly pirates, and a floating castle in the sky. In stories, when you need to escape the floating castle, the wizard waves her wand and everyone floats gently to the ground like bubbles, landing unharmed. The stories don’t include the part when one of the wizard’s friends is just beyond her reach, and there’s no way to stop them from falling to their death. I always knew the stories were fables written to entertain, but there’s always some kernel of truth to them - and I took that too much to heart. In the real story, the hero doesn’t always know what to do, and sometimes they leave behind innocent people to clean up the mess they made while trying to save the world. 

Looking around at my companions, I see faces that seem years younger, though it’s only been a few weeks. The crease between Jame’s eyebrows is softer, and Uggo’s muscled arms are a bit smaller, but the weary sharpness of everyone’s eyes tells me their minds haven’t reset. As I write this, I’m looking down at my own uncalloused hands, thinking about the many lessons this body has yet to learn. 

From Lily, I learned how to return any interaction with positivity. You can greet fire with fire, but soft words and a gentle smile coax the flame back to the brazier. Her determination and quiet strength has shown me I don’t need to show off to prove my worth. She taught me to heal - one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned so far. 

Uggo taught me to love fiercely and unapologetically. Whatever he does, he does it with his entire being. Fighting alongside him, I’ve started to learn how to rely on my gut over my head. Knowing him has brought me the introspection I needed to have more patience, and to not let my hot head get the best of me.

My friendship with James has shown me how to be a leader. He’s taught me that leadership is thinking quickly, making calculated and strong decisions, and looking out for the best of the team. More importantly, he’s shown me that even the best leaders can make mistakes and feel helpless - and that’s okay.  Siv has shown me endless kindness. He’s more kind than anyone who’s walked his path should be, which means there’s never an excuse for me to be selfish. The way he has surprised us again and again has taught me to never make assumptions about people, because everyone has their own story and they choose which pages to share with you.

Finding myself back here in The Gentle Oak is showing me how much I’ve changed, but I also see how far I have to go. I hope the lessons to come aren’t too harsh, but I welcome them if they continue to help me grow into the person I want to be. All of this reflection has me wondering, if I’m this different in just a few months, how different will I be in a few more months time? When I find my dad, will he even recognize me?

[daughterofawish]

Dear diary, today I got a tattoo

I’ve always thought a tattoo is something you should put a lot of thought into, but something about following my impulse felt right today. The shop was heavy with incense, curious symbols decorated the walls, and the room itself felt like inspiration. We all decided to get our own design of a phoenix. I decided on a silhouette of a young phoenix rising from ashes near the center of my chest, with a larger magnificent bird behind her, flying upwards across my body and spreading her wings across my shoulders. She’s embracing me and holding me close, whispering to me that no matter what happens, I’ll be okay. She feels protective, like Meep. While one phoenix perches on my shoulder, sheltering me from magical affects, the other protects me by reminding me that there will always be second chances.

The tattoo hurt, of course, sometimes feeling like a small hot knife carving into my bones. But it's easy to minimize that pain by remembering all of the battles we’ve been through together, bringing each of us close to death. Enduring a tattoo needle doesn’t hold a candle to the suffering of seeing piles of dead bodies beneath the ocean, the story of a young man forced to hurt himself again and again, or watching a menagerie of helpless creatures burn up in flame.

Hidden beneath his shirt, my dad has tattoos from all over Aïn. I’d ask him about them and he’d always love to tell the tales of where he got them and why, sometimes on dangerous missions by little more than a child in a street shack, and sometimes by celebrated artists with brief residencies in the town he’d be staying in. Some are large designs of beasts he’s rescued, growling or snarling, and some of his tattoos are tiny symbols, their origins long forgotten by him. Or so he’d say. One of my favorite tattoos is the dahlia flower near his heart, in honor of the wife he’d had who passed on before I was born. He told me Dahlia was sweet, and it broke her heart they could never have a child. If I ever when I find him again, I hope he likes my tattoo... maybe I could convince him to get a phoenix too!

[daughterofawish]

In memoriam of my glasses

I lost my glasses to a pit of lava in the Four Former Forges. Collateral damage, I suppose, and luckily I don’t need them to see, but it still hurts - it’s hard to remember a time before I had them.

When I was a child, I used to pick up my dad’s glasses and try to wear them around the house. I didn’t understand why he would wear these odd things on his face that made reading books impossible, but I would do it anyway so I could look just like him. I remember him plucking them off my face and saying, “you’re lucky you’ll never need these, dear; they become such a burden when you’re sprinting away from a Yeti or trying to escape the grapple of an Awakened Tree.”

I’ll always remember the day I got these glasses. Every year at the end of harvest season, we’d celebrate with a holiday of trickery called “Knave’s Night.” As legend goes, when the first cool winds of winter start to blow through the village, the arrival of The Custodian is imminent. He makes his way from town to town, swinging his lantern and signaling the end of the harvest season. The townsfolk called upon The Lanky Knave’s deceitful ways and attempt to disguise the town, thereby tricking The Custodian into passing over the village and giving us two more tendays of warmth. It was tradition for each home to paint their front door with a new color and delightful designs, and (my favorite part) each person puts on a disguise or dresses up as someone else. At the end of the night, if we had successfully confused The Custodian, he moves on to the next town and we get to enjoy the warmth for a little longer! My father and I didn’t revere the gods in the same way as the other village folk, but it was my favorite holiday because I got to dress up as someone else and pretend to be a normal kid for a day. 

One year, I was walking around the village taking in all of the beautiful new door designs in the golden light of the setting sun, when I spotted a group of costumed village children who were laughing and poking fun at each other. I started to shyly follow them around, hoping for a chance to say hello and join them. As the night darkened, I kept following a few houses behind them, listening to their cheerful conversation turn sour over an extinguished lantern. 

Here’s my chance, I thought to myself. I can help them relight their lantern and they’ll let me join them for the rest of the night! I slowly walked towards them, pulling my hood a little lower, patting my face paint to ensure it was still in place. “I can help you relight it!” I called out to them. They turned towards me, their expressions brightening. One of the girls held their lantern out me, opening the door to the candle inside. Having limited interaction with the other kids in town, my heart started beating frantically with excitement. Could this be the beginning of having real friends? I held my little candle out to light their wick, and in my excitement I must have siphoned my own fire magic. When my flame touched theirs, it flashed outward, exploding the wick with a pop, and the heat immediately turned the candle wax to hot lava, running out of the sides of the lantern and down the girl’s hands, dripping down her arms and to the ground. She let out a startled scream and started howling in shock. The other children, stunned by what they just witnessed, started screaming too. I’ll never forget their look of fear as they tore away from me. 

“People fear what they do not know.” I heard my father’s words echo in my head as I ran home in tears.

I burst through our freshly painted mint green door, startling our injured tressym off my father’s lap. He had stayed at home for the past few years while I went out, pouring over old books and enjoying a hot cup of pumpkin tea. Through tears, I told him about what happened, and that I’d never fit in with anyone. I cried and said I wished I could just be normal. I wished I didn’t have magic. I wished I wasn’t me anymore.

I remember him looking at me sadly, then giving me his tea to sip on while he went to the kitchen to fetch me a handkerchief. When he came back, it wasn’t a handkerchief in his hand, but an old pair of his metal rimmed glasses with the lenses popped out. I looked up, and saw my dad with the goofiest expression on his face and our red mop on his head. “I’ll tell you what, dear. We can still celebrate right here and trick the Custodian together.” He pointed to the mop. “You don’t have to be Fahima tonight - I’ll be you, and you can be old me.” He bent down, eyes wrinkling with a big smile, and placed his glasses on my face. They were comically big on me, but I refused to take them off for the rest of the night. I refused to take them off the day after that too, and all the days following. 

I’ll miss those glasses - they were one of the last pieces of my dad I still had.

Art by MCPTATO

[daughterofawish]

Thoughts on the gods

It seems The Candle Queen has become quite important to Uggo, and it’s caused me to reflect on my own understanding of our pantheon. I have an awareness of the various gods, of course, but my schooling has been mainly in the arcane arts that exist within a realm of science. The Candle Queen is worshiped in Axbright, along with The Custodian, but no one in our small town seemed to display any characteristics of one who might be a conduit of divine power.

I do remember asking my father why I have to study spells if all other people have to do is take a vow to a sacred oath, or pray to a god for power, or even make a pact with a magical entity (though that last suggestion earned me a rap on the hand with a wand). Why did I have to do drills and “understand the foundation of the arcane arts” before ever being able to cast a spell?

He told me that one can harness great power from other-worldly beings, or even from the will of one’s self, such as a bard taming the weave of magic with their lute. And while some magic is achievable by those casters alone, the majority of spells can be replicated with enough dedication to study. Once you’ve learned how to study, the world is a wizard’s playground. Why would you need to be bound to another being’s will, when one’s own will is strong enough to create a simulacrum, heal a crowd, open a portal to another world, or stop time? 

I do think it would be an incredible experience to be touched by a divine being, but I’m glad I hold the power to manifest my magic without being held to the will of another. Not much is known about the gods, but it seems the Wardens come pretty close. Having been in the presence of those who have taken down the Wardens and trapped them for their own purposes, it seems possible that one could even attain god-like power if they come to discover the ancient magic that has been long forgotten...

[daughterofawish]

This familiar feeling

Image credit: toherrys.tumblr.com

I’m having a hard time putting what I’m feeling into words. I’m very warm as I write this; in fact, I fear I may set this page on fire. We met a werewolf with a really cool haircut, and her name is Zenelca. Or at least, I think that’s how you spell it. I should ask her, that’ll be another excuse to talk to her... gods I’m awkward. I can barely talk like a normal person when I’m around her. “Do you like warm?” Ugh, I wanted to shrivel up and die of embarrassment.

Talking to Lily about how I’m feeling was very helpful, as I feel lost, wading through these emotions. The last time I felt this way was so long ago, and it didn’t end well.

My dad used to secretly bring home monsters and creatures of all types for observation and rehabilitation. Most were fun to learn about, some were scary and tried to kill us, but there was once a particularly special creature.

One night my dad came home with a new creature he had never seen before. It sort of looked like a firbolg, but had four eyes. It had blackish-red coloring, long braided hair, and an exoskeleton shielded breast. We called it a “lava creature.” He kept it in our basement menagerie, and I would sneak down to talk to it. It had the most intelligent eyes and its dark fur was hot to the touch, just like me. I was 10 years old, so I didn’t quite understand what I was feeling, but when it spoke to me in Primordial and I uttered back in a language I didn’t know I knew how to speak, I knew I was in love. When I told my dad that I had spoken to it, we spent an entire night with the “lava creature,” where I translated to my dad. The next day, it was gone. My dad said it was time for it to be brought back to its natural habitat. I think I cried for a week straight after that. It was the first time I felt true kinship with another creature. It understood me in a way no one else did, and it was terrifyingly exciting. Maybe if I told my dad how I felt he might not have taken it away so quickly.

My dad’s nose was too far in his map to think to give me “the talk,” and I didn’t have any good friends growing up, so I feel quite out of my element when it comes to these sorts of things. I think when she drank my blood it was supposed to be strictly curative, but apparently I’m as smitten as a Chwinga, as I practically set the vardo on fire when her mouth touched my hand.  So far I’ve fallen in love with a dangerous monster and gotten myself a crush on a werewolf. Maybe I should just stick with mastering my spells, learning Celestial, and tracking the Wardens. Besides, why even think about her when she clearly belongs somewhere else, just like the lava creature?

[daughterofawish]

An excerpt from “Shortness of Breath: A Dwarven Romance” by Makaelynn JadeFist

For a live reading by the author, go to this YouTube clip.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Under the dim light of the few candles left illuminating the cave hideout, she saw him step closer. She didn't know what to expect from this wild, untamed outlander Clansman, and to her dismay, she heard her breath catch with anticipation. 

As he closed the gap between them, he met her with such a passionate gaze she nearly looked away. She could see that his eyes, usually dark as mountain iron, sparked with something much more than curiosity. Just inches away from her, she could smell his sweet musk of soot, ore, and sweat. Cautiously, he reached toward her with a thick, hard calloused hand, and gently touched her cheek. His eyes left hers and wandered down to her nose, to her lips, to her brick red beard. Without realizing it, she inched her body closer to his, begging him for more. His fingers trailed down her chin and wound into her soft beard. Though she was far from innocent at over 200 years old, the delicacy with which his fingers stroked the fine amber hair left her trembling, aching for more. When he reach the tip of her beard, he gave it a little twist, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. She closed her eyes and let out a small moan. Suddenly, against her body, she felt the long, hard hilt of his axe. She cleared her throat and said, "I think it's time we lay our weapons down. I'm done fighting what's between us." ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[daughterofawish]

Fire Baby Research

Creating minor elementals went much better than I expected, though I can’t say I’m not disappointed they are simply a shade of the real creature. I know my Magmins are just incorporeal forms made of magic, but I still thought it pertinent to at least try to have a conversation with them. Once conjured on the top of the vardo, I knelt down to their level and attempted to speak to them. First I tried asking them, “Do you know where you are?” in Common and Primordial, and they simply stood still, flames licking their bodies, staring at me with bright but lifeless eyes. I then attempted a few broken phrases in Ignan, still to no avail. I sat back, pondered a moment, then conjured a hat, and commanded them to set it on fire. THAT got a response. It seems they only obey commands, and do not possess the sentience to converse. While disappointing, it comes as no surprise. Having studied this spell for many hours on the road, I know this is not a teleportation or transplanar spell. The most I am able to do is create what I believe looks and behaves like a fire elemental, and my complex conjuration will allow it to share their traits and replicate their innate weapon abilities. Unfortunately, I cannot conjure a real living being, and not I’m not yet sure that it’s possible. I expect the most that can be done is conjuring a portal for an already existing living being. Once I realized these conjurations are no more than figments of my own imagination and magic, I decided I cannot follow my normal instinct to name and anthropomorphize the monsters I meet. If I name them, I’ll feel bad when someone tries to eliminate them or when they disappear. Despite how cute they are, they are merely tools, and I must remember that. In fact, I’m very excited to experiment with the Ice Mephits as tools against creatures that will be immune to fire. I wasn’t entirely sure that I would be able to conjure them, as everything else I’ve created has been borne of my intrinsic fire magic, but I’ve really surpassed myself. I will admit (only to you) that I did go a little too far with my experimentation, and several of my Ice Mephits exploded into shards of jagged ice that do indeed pierce as swiftly and painfully as real ice. While I’m proud of the extensiveness of my spell, I had assumed I would be immune to their effects. This is sadly not the case, and I’m glad I found out before I tested the limits with the Fire Snakes.

[daughterofawish]

I love an empty page

Hello empty notebook. I can’t wait to fill you in with the details of my adventure! I love smell of new parchment and old soft leather.  Today was... weird. It’ll take forever to explain how we ended up in (on?) the City of Scrap, so I’ll just start with... we woke up on a floating island of ocean trash. And the best part? It’s inhabited by Lotlites! I remember reading what I could about them in my library, but since they are so isolated from everyone else it’s hard to get details about them. But guess what? We not only got to interact with them - they included us in their NightDrift ceremony! I was very excited to have the opportunity to observe such a unique ritual and celebration. Much to my chagrin, I couldn’t handle the taste of their... special soup. I puked it up in my mouth a little bit, but I think I hid it successfully as not to offend them. I can’t wait to fill in my dad about my experience - what a treat of a lifetime! Siv had the great idea of offering them a gift, and I quickly followed suit as to earn their favor and trust. Oh, and it was so cute how Uggo interacted with them. His hand was bigger than their heads!  Later, the night got even stranger. 

I’ve been studying James’s teleportation, and I got the knack of it. I even added to it so I could swap places with someone! Finally, my arcana skills in conjuration are doing more for me than creating a bar table -__-  James was very impressed, but guess what happened next? He took my hand and not only teleported us together 90 feet away, but created a HUGE crack of thunder that was so loud it shattered a few bottles nearby. So much for showing off to him! Then I showed him Meep’s new ability - she can breathe FIRE (and cold, and lighting, and more!) She’s always had this little fire ray she could shoot out, but this cone of fire is -impressive-. I do worry about her, though. She’s very vulnerable and insatiably curious. Those two don’t mix, and trust me - I would know. If she was hurt, I don’t know what I would do with myself, but I know I can’t keep her inside my coat every time we’re out fighting. Hopefully, my Celestial improves enough from Siv’s book that I can have a conversation with her about this.  After showing James my new spells, I went back to go to bed, and I thought he did the same. Then I heard Uggo and Lily yelling. We ran across the city to find James freezing cold and badly hurt. He wouldn’t tell us exactly what happened, but we know it was caused by his patron. I bent down to give him a hug of heat, but it didn’t seem to do much. He’s beholden to this being and we don’t know why. I can understand not wanting to risk losing your arcana power. Luckily I was homeschooled and my dad taught me everything I know, but if my ability to cast spells was bestowed upon me and could be taken away in one breath - I don’t know who I would be. I guess I could learn how to use my dagger better from Siv, or maybe Lily could teach me how to sing... no, that wouldn’t be good. One time when I was 10 I sang in the village talent fair and the other kids called me a Hollyphant. Don’t worry, I informed them that Hollyphants are actually gentle celestial creatures that treasure friendship and honesty, but they didn’t care. And it still hurt. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yea, no singing. I hope James can free himself if he’s being hurt this badly, and hope we can help him. But it seems to be a double-edged sword. I’m going to sleep on the floor in his little Lotlite built room because I been told I’m “a furnace,” and hopefully that will keep him warm through the night. I don’t know what we’ll do when we wake up, but the best I can hope for is that we’ll find breakfast that won’t make me vomit.

[daughterofawish]

Notes on the Schools of Magic

I’ve been thinking quite a bit on the different schools of magic and my particular interest in conjuration. It’s interesting to me that I seem to possess a certain aptitude for fire and evocation in general, and yet chose a school that might take a bit more practice. I guess I’ve never been afraid of homework!  I’ve had the ability to produce flame for as long as I can remember, and I started copying my father’s spells as soon as I started to recognize symbols and words. When it came time to hone in on certain spells, I was given a choice to specialize in one of the many schools of wizardry that exist. It’s taken years of study to understand that this is necessary - each school is so vast it would be much less efficient to try to specialize in multiple schools at once.

Abjuration “Always wear protection.” My father has drilled the verbal and somatic components of the Mage Armor spell in my head so many times I could probably literally do it in my sleep. When encountering brand new creatures and observing their capabilities, any kind of abjuration spell is of the utmost importance. But I wasn’t particularly interested in this being my specialty. I’ve learned many abjuration spells in anticipation of dangerous encounters, but as for perusing an expertise, there seemed to be more interesting options.  

Divination Seeing into the future and eventually gaining a powerful third eye with which you can see through darkness, see into the Ethereal Plane, or read any language? I might’ve actually picked this school if it weren’t for the band of caravan travelers who set up in Axbright for a tenday. They were all so cool. And beautiful. My dad brought me to one of their shows, and I was totally enraptured. I dragged dad to the front row to see the performers up close, and a woman with golden skin like mine took my breath away. She had wild curly dark hair, colorful necklaces and bracelets made of gemstones and seashells, and danced on bare feet. At one point during the show, she bent down and locked eyes with me. Her light seafoam green eyes seemed to pierce through me and see everything, sending a jolt of electricity from my temple to my toes. Dad told me the travelers were known Diviners and can feel a bit supernatural to small-town folk. I’ve always felt like a bit of a fraud attempting divination magic when I know someone like her and her companions are out there, laying out glittering cards and animal bones, reading the future. It sounds a bit stupid writing it out now, years later, but it’s true.

Enchantment I’ve always been greatly amused by enchantment, but something about delving into one’s mind and seeing what’s there has always made me very uncomfortable. I don’t like the feeling of someone rooting around my head. I feel like it’s not quite playing fair. I know it can be used to stop violence and it’s necessary to beat foes whose mind might be their only weakness, but if no one possessed the ability to force someone to do something against their will, I think the world would be a better place for it. I think Lily is just about the only person I would ever fully trust with Enchantment mastery. Evocation Evocation is what comes to me most naturally. Elemental spells make the most sense to me, and what comes the most easily to me is fire. But what’s interesting to me is that I was born with the ability to conjure fire. I’m still figuring out the difference between conjuring a flaming sphere and evoking a fireball. What is the real difference? Why is my flaming sphere a creation of energy, and my fireball not? Does my fireball come from existing energy that I’m able to harness and wrap up into a weapon? Why is it not the same for a flaming sphere? In the end, evocation calls to me, but focusing my energy on learning how to control my fire spells with more accuracy is less important to me than learning how to conjure that elemental fire in the first place. I’ll have to revisit this thought later when I’ve learned more about arcana. Illusion The ability to create a non-harmful spell effect to provoke or subdue a creature has always of been great fascination to me. And of course, Invisibility is an imperative common spell for anyone who dares tread in dangerous territory. For me, the school of illusion has always been more entertaining than pragmatic. Minor illusion can be useful because my conjured objects always emit an arcane glow (still workshopping that), but ultimately the idea of creating a real tangible object is more enticing to me. I’ve always thought the ability to disguise oneself without transmutation is incredibly exciting, but sadly I lack the... ahem... charisma to complete that spell’s transformation.  Necromancy Necromancy is the school of magic I know least about because my dad found it to be the least useful. Manipulating life force went against his primary goal of preserving and observing life. “What happens to a body once its life force has left is not a mystery,” he said. “It begins to rot and is no longer a home to the creature’s spirit. The body is not sacred and should be used to further our understanding of the scientific uses of its various parts. Inhibiting or draining one’s life force is supremely unfair to the natural cycle of a creature’s existence.” I’ve always wondered what could be observed from a creature if it were to be raised from the dead, but never had the opportunity. I don’t get squeamish, but I have to agree with my father that it’s a very macabre school of study. Using blood and corpse bits is entirely unappetizing. But, I suppose this might be one area in which I could surpass my father’s knowledge... 

Transmutation Ah, transmutation might be my second favorite school of magic. Perhaps tied with Evocation? The usage of transmutation magic is endless! I can weld things together, instantly snuff out a candle or turn it into fireworks, clean spilled ink upon a page; change the physical properties of myself so I fall less quickly, see in the dark, fight like a dinosaur; I can even change the weather! The combination of conjuration and transmutation is intoxicating and I hope to put it to great use!

Conjuration Finally, my chosen school. There’s something inexplicably exciting about mastering the ability to conjure an object or a creature or even a castle out of nothing! It’s endlessly interesting to me that one could use their mind alone to pull from the fabric of magic and make their wishes a reality. Teleportation has also always been of great interest to me. Why fly when you conjure yourself through another dimension? I can’t wait to conjure creatures from another plane and question them about their lives over a cuppa. My dad is was is amused by my fascination with conjuration, but as his interest lies in observing creatures that already exist and finding them, most of my aptitude in conjuration has come from doing extra reading on my own.

[daughterofawish]

Today we encountered a new creature, the Achaierai! I didn’t get to observe them much or interact with them, but if they’re being run by The Flock, I do think it’s likely we will see them again. I’d like to ascertain whether or not they are inherently evil creatures or not, and if they have any other abilities than their famous black smoke defense. As they are being used as mounts, they must be somewhat cooperative, or at least able to be bargained with in some manner. I suppose they could have been charmed, but it doesn’t seem likely. 

If they do exhibit destructive behavior and are a danger to innocent people, I believe it would be necessary to stop them. Unfortunately, I do not have a way of returning them to a safe environment, so we would likely have to harm them. I hope it doesn’t come to this, and I will redouble my efforts to learn spells that might avoid this outcome in the future.

Notes:

Name: Achaierai

Giant bird-like creature

Four stork-like legs

Can be ridden, seen with a saddle

Metallic beak, vibrant colorful plumage: red, blue yellow

Famous for being able to create a thick black cloud of smoke

Flightless, but can run very quickly

Image from https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Achaierai