#arcana inscribes

[thefishermansharbor]

The M6 proposing to you!

The arcana x GN!Reader 

Julian Devorak:

Julian is an excellent actor. In all different ways, if something is bothering him - only those who know him very best can understand that something is wrong. And right now especially, he was thanking the arcana that he was such an excellent actor. Because that way he could conceal his plan from you. 

You walk into the study. “ You needed me, honey? Is something wrong?” you ask.

“ I was just curious about something, dear.” He says, extra sweetly. He has his tie on, and his eyepatch off. Whatever he’s thinking about is something serious. “ .. Have you ever thought about officiating a certain thing?” 

“ .. what ‘thing’ are you talking about, Jules?”

He sighs, and smiles.  He sweeps all of his desk’s contents to the floor, they make a loud clatter sound against the hardwood floor.  He knew that this was not the time to put on a false face and act, this was the time to speak straight from the heart.

Julian can feel his worries about this fall away. The endless and long nights of staying up to rehearse and plan for this now felt.. silly. So incredibly silly, what good is pretending to be someone else in the moment he should most definitely just be himself? He was going to do this his own way. To say the things he truly feels, and not some silly pre - written words. 

There’s only one thing left on his desk, a pearl ring. It’s not even in a box, it’s just sitting there, only accompanied by a second ring. He stares into your eyes, a cheeky smirk on his face. 

“ Officiating our relationship, of course. Would you do the honor of marrying me, dear?” 

Asra Alnazar:

Asra sighed, thinking of you. The truth was ever since he’d known that you loved him just as much as he loved you, he had been thinking of you. You were so unbelievably perfect in so many ways to him. Everything about you, your looks, your thoughts, your feelings.. He cherished it. It had been taken away from him - and he never fully recovered. 

Asra worried that something else would split the two of you apart again. He really did, but then an idea crossed his mind. Marriage. You two had been talking about it before you caught the plague, and he started to think that it was a way to truly solidify your connection. 

He waited for you at the fountain garden. A place that was special to the two of you. It was the early summer, a june evening. His favorite time of day during his favorite season. What better place? 

As the noise of the castle slowly drifted off behind you, you came into Asra’s view. He had said to you that he wanted to tell you something important. He stood up from the edge of the fountain, his soft smile widening. 

“ Hello, my love.” 

“ Hi, Asra.” You say. He takes you hand and squeezes it gently. His eyes stared into yours. A breeze passed through the garden, the purple sky in the background made your lover look simply stunning.

“ .. I told you this morning that I wanted to tell you something. I’ve been waiting, ___. I’ve been waiting a long time.” 

You listen, you could never know how carefully he’s considered every word and rehearsed it before now. He wants nothing more than for this to be as special as possible for you.

“ … but now the wait is finally over, my love.” He kneeled, taking out a small pouch, and taking one silver ring with both of your initials inscribed into the inside of it. 

“ Will you marry me, ____ ?”

Lucio Morgasson:

Lucio sat up in bed, covered in cold sweat. He had a dream about you, and it could only mean one thing - he was being stupid. He was stupid not to marry you, you’re the most perfect person to him. You’re beautiful, perfect, and kind. He couldn’t think why he hadn’t yet put a ring on you. 

He ran over to his own jewelry box, ransacking it for rings. Anything would do. All he knew is that he wanted you, and he wanted you now. He found one that looked like it might be your size - and before he knew it, he was running down the hall. 

You’d said to him earlier that you’d be working on a project with Portia in the library tonight. He ran as fast as he could down the hall. Once he got there, he banged on the library door until Portia opened it. 

“ .. Sir Lucio? What are you doing here?” She said, surprised. He was out of breath, and looked over Portia’s shoulder and saw you reading. 

“ out of my way, Portia–” He said, shoving and squeezing past her. She let him get by, standing there confused. 

He ran up behind you, tapping your shoulder. He was a man on a mission, nothing could’ve stopped him from getting what he wanted at that moment. You turned and looked at him,

“ Lucio? What is it?”

“ .. “ He stared at you for another second before acknowledging himself. Still a bit out of breath, and grabbed your shoulders before waving the ring near your face like a mad man.

“ .. marry me, here. Now.” 

Nadia Satrinava:

She wanted to extravagant, she really wanted it to be a story you talked about for the rest of your life together. She had several servants, wedding planners, event planners, and even some family members invited to the palace to help her come up with the best plan she could. She only allows the best for you. 

She thought long and hard about what to do, but eventually she decided on something she thought you’d like. She made a reservation for a small pizza restaurant. It was old fashioned brick-oven pizza, something she thought you’d like. 

Nadia sat at the restaurant, waiting patiently for you. She had sent a carriage to the magic shop a little over 20 minutes ago. She shifted in her seat, she’d really dressed up for the event. She had painted her nails a deep red, the perfect manicure to show your rings off with. 

“ .. Oh, Nadia, sweetie, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You say apologetically, rushing over to the table from the front. “ A customer knocked over the buckwheat frogskin and then I had to spent an extra half hour helping her clean herself up, and then cleaning the group.” 

She pulled out your chair for you and give you a kiss on the cheek. “ It’s quite alright, darling.” 

She sat back down and across from people, smiling at you. She’d planned to do it towards the end of the meal, but as soon as the bread came - she just looked at how beautiful you were. You were so beautiful and kind all the time.. Something came over her, and she stood up out of her chair. 

She nearly knocked into a waiter, but she got down on a knee, and put her hand on your knee. 

Nadia stares, she’d never been so confident in a decision. Ever. 

“ Darling, Would you marry me?”

Muriel the outsider:

He was nervous about asking you. It was a large step in life, but you had helped grow into a better and more confident person, and he couldn’t imagine asking this of anyone else. 

You’re sat near the fire with Inanna, journaling while Inanna’s asleep on your lap. The only thing that can be heard is your occasional laughter and Inanna’s soft snoring. Muriel smiled at you. He knew you were the one. The person, HIS person. 

He walked up behind you, and sat down next to the two of you. He loved the way you looked at him, so full of love - and never full of fear. He tries to speak, but the words die in his throat. How is he supposed to do this? 

Muriel takes a deep breath and stares at you. From your perspective, it looks a bit like he’s glaring as hard as he can. It makes you a bit nervous.

“ Hey, Muri. Is something wrong?” You ask, concerned about him. 

“ I.. you.. Please, maybe– if you think you want.. W-we could.. I think that..”

He stumbles on his words, blushing. He puts a ahand over his face, you’ve been together so long and yet you still fluster him so very much. 

He decides it’s best to just get it over and done with, the words come out bluntly but they’re still endearing and sweet. 

“ I want to marry you!” He says loudly, but then he realizes how awkward he looks and his gaze softens. “ .. Please say yes.” he whispers.

Portia Devorak:

Portia knew she wanted to take advantage of her charm when it came to you. If there’s two things she loved, it was life at sea - and you, OF COURSE. One time while you were re-stocking the ship at one of the towns, she brought you off away from the crowd and onto a much smaller sailing boat.

It was perfect. The late afternoon sun on the harbor and coastline, it was just the two of you. With the exception of a sailor who was manning the boat while Portia romanced you. She was incredibly patient and listened a lot more than talked - you could sense something was different about this date, she almost always did most of the talking. 

She had been very patient that day. She knew what she wanted, and she was ready to make that happen. She waited until the very best moment to ask, when the sun was setting and you were least expecting it. 

She scooted a little closer to you, putting her hand on top of yours. She smiled, taking something out of her pocket. 

It’s a pearl ring, perfectly your size. It’s beautiful, and you gape at it.. Too happy to realize that Portia’s started talking, finally you look over and she smiles at you. She loves you so very much. 

“ Could you make me the happiest woman ever and marry me?”

[thewitcheslibrary]

Tarot cards vs Oracle cards

What are oracle cards?

Oracle cards are a divination instrument that can help you gain intuitive knowledge and connect with yourself. Oracle cards provide a free-flowing message and a variety of beautiful designs. There are many various sorts of cards available; some have basic graphics or phrases, while others may be intricately designed and showcase amazing unique artwork. There is no predetermined amount of cards in an Oracle deck, and some include thorough guidebooks while others do not. Oracle cards have grown in popularity and availability over the past few years. Incorporating an Oracle deck into your daily ritual or intuitive growth practice will help you create a strong connection to your intuition.

what are tarot cards? Tarot decks generally have 78 cards that begin with the main and minor arcanas. The Major Arcana are 22 cards that begin with The Fool and continue his journey as he encounters and collides with every aspect of human existence, from The Magician to Death, The Tower, and finally The World. The Minor Arcana cards include 16 Tarot Court Cards, which are often face cards and symbolise 16 various characteristics that can be conveyed. The Minor Arcana consists of forty cards arranged in four suites: swords (air), pentacles (earth), wands (fire), and cups (water). These numbered cards, with ten cards in each suit, reflect circumstances that you may meet on a daily basis rather than big turning moments that the main arcana often symbolise. Learning the meanings of each card takes time and effort, but once learned, you will have a wonderful tool for divination and self-discovery. Once you've established a regular practice, remember to routinely cleanse your tarot deck.

Are they the same thing?

Oracle cards and Tarot differ in a variety of ways, the most notable being that Tarot cards have a set format and often comprise 78 cards. Oracle cards do not have a standard structure and the number of cards in each deck varies. With Tarot, if you understand the meanings of the main and minor arcana, as well as the suits, you will be able to read and recognise almost any tarot deck. Oracle cards are typically more clear, with meanings inscribed on the face. Oracle cards vary greatly from deck to deck; some have a theme, while others do not.

Oracle and Tarot cards can serve the same aim of divination and providing insight in a circumstance. Both sorts of cards may be dealt with intuitively, and both include a range of symbols and images to assist activate your psychic abilities. Tarot and oracle cards are both utilised in spiritual practices, divination, and coaching sessions to provide clarity and insight into circumstances.

Both Tarot and Oracle cards serve as reflections of the present energy. They will reflect the realities of your circumstance and suggest suitable next steps. Consider reading the cards as a chat with a trustworthy mentor or your higher self. There are no judgements, "negative" or "positive" messages. There is just a mirror of energy and the potential to go forward via self-awareness and a comprehension of the situation.

What should beginners start with?

Oracle cards are more open-ended and may be easier for novices to interpret. Unlike the Tarot, there are no meanings or suits to memorise. This does not imply that Oracle decks are just for novices. Many professional readers utilise Oracle cards in their readings, and they are ideal for self-development, positive affirmations, and starting or expanding an intuitive practice. Oracle cards frequently include rich artwork and come in a variety of styles, making it simpler to pick a deck that speaks to you.

I recommend Oracle cards to anyone who is afraid of Tarot decks and prefers soothing images. In my professional practice, I've seen that Oracle cards frequently speak to the overarching issues that a client is going with in their life. Professional readers frequently use Oracle cards into their tarot readings, however this varies each reader.

Key differences-

Tarot cards follow a predetermined format, but Oracle cards are more free-flowing.

Every Tarot deck will have a predictable structure and a set of suites, as described in the section above. Oracle cards can differ in terms of quantity, subject, and imagery. Tarot will share symbolism between decks. The Rider Waite Deck, which was constructed by Pamela Colman Smith in 1909 under the leadership of Arthur Edward Waite, serves as the foundation for the majority of decks. Oracle cards are free-flowing in terms of art, colour, symbolism, topic, and content. There are no rules or defined structure for Oracle cards.

Tarot is an old kind of divination, whereas Oracle cards are more contemporary.

While the Tarot's roots are unknown, it is thought to have existed since antiquity and is associated with ancient Greece, the Kabbalah, and the Romany people. Tarot cards are a strong divination tool, and many readers believe they are an extension of their own energy. Oracle cards represent a more recent kind of divination. They are also more commonly used by therapists and coaches. While Oracle cards are not inherently associated with spiritual beliefs, they can be used by spiritual practitioners, and many people like using them in conjunction with tarot, astrology, or psychic readings.

Tarot requires time to understand and develop, but Oracle cards are more user-friendly.

Learning the traditional meanings of the Tarot will provide a wonderful reference system for your intuitive work. Initially, you will utilise the handbook to comprehend and interpret the symbols and archetypes. Once you've memorised the meanings and started practicing consistently, you'll notice that the cards may take on multiple meanings and you'll have your own interpretations of them. As you study, pay attention to your intuitive readings since they will help you interpret the messages as well. When you first pick up an Oracle deck, you'll notice that many of the cards are straightforward. Each deck is unique, so select one with artwork or a theme that appeals to you.

Using tarot and oracle decks together?

Many professional readers and Tarot fans combine Oracle cards with Tarot cards. Some believe that Oracle cards provide a deeper significance to a Tarot spread, and vice versa. There is no right or wrong way to utilise the cards together, as long as you are familiar with both decks. It's a good idea to experiment with various Tarot spreads and approaches to determine what works best for you.

I prefer to keep multiple decks on my desk, and during an intuitive reading, I may be pulled to a certain card that feels right for that person. I've also seen readers select an Oracle card at the conclusion of a reading to provide a deeper insight and validation of the messages delivered, as well as at the start of a reading to establish the tone for what comes next.

[decadanceitout]

Shadowheart: Damn thing… it has to open, surely. It has to do something.

Narrator: Shadowheart's attention is consumed by a strange box that she turns over in her hands.

Narrator: Intelligence (Arcana) The box is inscribed with glyphs similar to those used by the githyanki.

PC: A githyanki artefact. How did you come by that?

Narrator: In an instant, Shadowheart hides the box from view.

Shadowheart: It's nothing, trust me. Beautiful evening, isn't it?

PC: Why're you so kin to dodge questions about that thing?

Shadowheart: You deserve honesty more than most… but please, don't ask.

PC: Not much of an answer. I'd hoped for more openness.

Shadowheart: I'm sorry. I can't give you that. Not right now.

Never had this one before. I wonder if it's something new.

UPD. Turned out it isn't. And here I was hoping for a new content…

[blackjackkent]

Need to take a moment to percolate on Rakha's emotional hook here right now because I feel like I haven't solidified it yet. I'm really trying to lean into the idea that she really does remember nothing - she's surprised at her own magic, willing to believe she and Lae'zel could be the same race, doesn't remember her own face, and isn't entirely confident the whole world isn't like this terrible ship. Which is fun, but it's making it a little complicated to find an emotional throughline, which I want so I can get attached to her and have all the feels. XD

So... some ponderings as we move towards getting Shadowheart:

She's scared, certainly, and violently angry for reasons she doesn't fully understand. The vibe I'm getting is kind of in the realm of 'kicked dog'; she's ready to lash out at anything unfamiliar, but EVERYTHING is unfamiliar right now, and any other potential personality is getting pretty much smothered under that fact for now. She only hasn't killed Lae'zel because Lae'zel managed to provide an anchor point of absolute confidence during the time when Rakha was too bewildered to strike.

I just now got to Shadowheart's pod and the Arcana check that a sorcerer gets to detect the magic connecting the pod to the console, and have been sitting here for a moment pondering on why Rakha would stop to help her when both her own instincts and Lae'zel are telling her to gtfo.

The answer that I'm coming up with is that she's fascinated by the magic itself - both her own magic and that in the world around her. As a sorcerer, it seems, she has a certain innate sense of its presence ("Warding runes - you feel them drawing energy from the console near to the pod.") and I think it probably stands out as an interesting contrast to the only other things she is feeling which are fear and rage.

She's also striking me as having a very analytical mind (cf. the 'listing of facts' in the first post, analyzing Lae'zel's characteristics, etc.) and likes knowing how things work, despite her INT not being numerically very high; focusing on the Cold Hard Facts is a reasonable default when the only emotions making themselves known are negative ones.

So - obviously this can and likely will change over time but my initial impression is of a magical prodigy, instinctively drawn to any connection with the Weave she encounters, constantly taking in the world around her and trying to understand it - and constantly ready to lash out at anything that threatens or angers her (or anything she doesn't know) with a level of instantaneous rage that she doesn't understand.

OK, I feel better for having rambled that out. XD We'll see how it holds up in the long run.

With all that in mind...

-----

Rakha is absolutely AGITATING Lae'zel by stopping to figure out how to open the pod. And agitating herself, in truth. They need to keep moving. The answers will be on the bridge, not here.

But the undulating force of that warding magic is compelling; it tastes familiar, like safety. She wants to see where the connection lies, manipulate it, communicate with it.

She examines the console carefully; her fingertips flick in an automatic motion, instinctive renderings of symbols taken from within the magic's own pulse.

[SORCERER] Inscribe the device with the glyphs you sensed from the pod's warding runes.

Narrator: The console hums to life.

A smile, for the first time since she woke up. Just the hint of one. Good. That was good.

[ARCANA] Take a closer look at the powered-up console.

Narrator: Nothing in the appearance of the device betrays its purpose. It could do anything.

She sets her jaw angrily, slams her hand down against the button as much in irritation as intention.

Place your hand on the console.

Narrator: Suddenly you feel a hideous squirming in your head. The parasite. Then discomfort fades... and another sensation washes over you. Connection. Authority...

Authority. Yes. It feels natural, it feels right, in the same way that it felt right to inscribe those runes a moment ago. And what else does she have to go on?

[ILLITHID][WISDOM] Will the pod to open.

Narrator: You feel the biomechanical brain of the console process your command... and yield to it. A shiver runs across your mind. You feel... sated...

"Ha--ahh..." she grunts, her head drawing back, pulling away from the connection with the console. Lae'zel is watching her with an irritated expression.

Rakha scowls at her. Do not look at me like that. It called to me and I answered. "Let us get the girl and go," she mutters.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Tirivanis, the Duke of Wounds

The first rule of dealing in blood is to never dip into your own supply

One must admit that there is power in blood, mortals bleed so easy yet a few drops can mean the difference between life and death. Blood is what ties us to are closest kin, and agreements signed in blood are thought to be the most binding. Is it any wonder then that someone would look upon this power and not seek to claim it for their own?

Enter Tirivanis, an enterprising devil who sought to unlock all the multiverse’s sanguine secrets, mastering not only the binding blood contracts of his infernal kind but more esoteric sources of magic: the contagious curse of vampirism, pagan battle and fertility rites, sorcererous inheritance and destined dynasties. Over time the Duke became so skilled at Interweaving these disciplines that he could freely mingle his power with that of his follower’s bloodlines, creating a living reservoir of arcana that he could tap into at will without the need to tempt mortals individually. This made him a true power in the courts of hell, atleast until he was summoned to the material plane in order to lord over some of his underlings and ended up getting into a fight with a meddling seraph resulting in being entombed beneath the earth for a few centuries.

Imprisonment was not good for the duke, trapped as he was and unable to maintain the bonds of magic that sustained him and all the contracts he had struck began to slip into default, bleeding him of more and more of his power. This imbalance that was only corrected after a nightmarish battle above his resting place soaked the earth with enough blood and sorrow that he was able to wrest himself free at which point he emerged as a changed and harrowed thing, desperate to undo all that he once made.

Though Tirivanis can play at being the suave and calculating devil he once was, the moment he gets a whiff of blood touched by his old power he goes after it like a shark, ripping his victims apart, wringing their flesh of blood, even licking it off the ground where it was splattered, made feral with the ecstasy of being made whole bit by bit. When his frenzy passes and his mind returns, he rises again, having traded yet more dignity for yet another scrap of his old power. He begins the hunt again, using what magic he can muster to seek his next victim.

Hooks:

Its a classic story: the party is set on the trail of a curse-slinging warlock hellbent on acquiring blasphemous powers and willing to perform any dark ritual to achieve it, only to fight their way through the villain's dungeon lair to find their quarry in pieces all across the ritual chamber. In the centre of this gorily decorated chamber they find a once-regal devil trapped in a ruinic circle panting after the out of reach warlock giblits like a starving dog. Having caught Tirivanis in a compromising position, the party might be able to haggle for some infernal boon, provided they don’t mind using entrails as bargaining chips.

Having proven themselves erstwhile heroes, the party receives an invitation to a country estate to hear a potential request for employment. A day or so carriage ride from the town, they find their hosts “out” at the moment, but are invited to wander the beautifully kept grounds and be waited upon by the friendly ( if a little anemic ) serving staff. That night, the party is woken from their beds and invited to meet with their perspective employers, who turn out to be a family of vampires. Carefully controlling both their appetites and number, the vampires have managed to not invite outside attention, atleast until one of their number was attacked kidnapped. Do the party accept their blood money, or risk angering a very old and well connected family on principle alone?

The hottest new trend on the arcane black market? Rune inscribed leaches that’ve begun appearing in the realm’s swamps, which suffuse the caster’s body with magical stimulants while taking just a little blood in return. Tirivanis created these loathsome symbiotes to detect for those who share a tie to any of the magical bloodlines he crated. When one of the little critters gets a taste, Tirivanis is there in a matter of days, though the dealers have been covering up the deaths of tieflings and other users in order to move more product.

[goodfish-bowl]

Saving Throw

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 6: Tabletop

AO3 Link

Summary: Danny invites Sam and Tucker over to play D&D, asking Spike for a favor to DM the game for them.

Warnings: minor character death, only dialog

Words: 829

“Okay, I’m going to enter the dungeon.”

“I follow into the dungeon.”

“I…  also follow into the dungeon.”

“Okay… so what do we see?”

“It seems to be some sort of laboratory, with metal tables lined up against the walls, open chests full of vials and potions all this bright green color. There are all sorts of tools, journals, and pieces of… something, lying on the tables, and it’s decently cold down here. And, taking up the entire back wall is a cavern, circled by runes, that the entire laboratory seems centered around. What do you do?”

“Oh! The artificer in me loves this place already! I go and investigate the things on the table! Gotta start with the small stuff before looking at the big picture.”

“Yeah, have fun with that. I go and investigate the big hole in the wall.” 

“Eh, why not? I follow… Raven to the back.” 

“Okay, Swave, let’s start with you. I need you to roll both an arcana and… eh, an investigation check works.”

“Cool, okay… that’s a… 7 for arcana and 16 for investigation.”

“So, on the table, you can definitely tell whoever lives here was tinkering with something magic, but you can’t tell what kind other than green and glowy. It’s just a bit too far removed from your area of expertise. Whatever it is, they don’t seem to be getting the results they want, judging from the notes. But, they’ve definitely accomplished something recently.”

“Damn, really wish I rolled higher on that arcana.”

“It is what it is. So, with Raven and Orion. Now that you’re closer, you notice that there are runes inscribed around the cavern, roll an Arcana.”

“Nice, 18 plus 3, 21.”

“I rolled an 8.”

“Okay, well, Raven, you completely recognize these runes, you even notice some blatant errors in some of them. They seem to be an activation sequence of some kind, a gate, even. Orion, you know what a small handful of the runes mean, but nothing coherent.”

“Okay… I uh… go inside the cavern.”

“Eh! I dunno dude, I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk into the giant magic gate in the underground lab.”

“Nah, let him, I’m curious.”

“It’s too late to take it back now. Raven, what are you doing while he’s walking inside?”

“Hmmm, do I notice Orion walking inside?”

“Roll a perception.”

“… that’s a solid 3.”

“Then no.”

“Okay, I’m going to fix the runes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey! Don’t do that! I’m literally walking inside of it right now! Can’t you wait until I’m out?”

“First off, I didn’t notice you go inside, second, the runes are wrong, of course I’m going to fix them. It’s what my character would do!”

“Oh no…” 

“Swave, I want you to also roll a perception check.”

“… Sorry dude, that’s a 5 at best.”

“Ughhhh.”

“Raven, roll an arcana again to correct the runes.”

“17.”

“Congrats, you’ve fixed the runes. Orion, roll a dex save.”

“NO!”

“AH!”

“Oops.”

“… a 2.”

“Ouch, man. Okay, so Raven and Swave. As Orion enters the cavern, and Raven fixes the runes, they start glowing, and there’s a tearing sound as green pours out from the hole in the wall.”

“NOooOooo…”

“Hmm, just for kicks, Orion, roll a con save.”

“Okay… man, this sucks, first session and I’m already… that’s a nat 20.”

“Seriously?!”

“Wow, this will be interesting. So, Orion, as you enter the cavern, now known to be a portal, it lights up with green magic, and races through you, like it’s cooking you alive. But due to the force, it launches you out, and you land in the middle of the laboratory floor… Lower your hp to 1, and use up two death saves. Also, change your race to tiefling. I’ll send you the rest of the stuff when I figure it out.”

“YOOO!”

“Haha… yeah… wow.”

“Hey, Spike, thanks for coming over to DM today.”

“No problem. It’s good to help a friend's sibling with something I’m good at. Especially when he’s trying to make new friends, and it’s not like Jazz was ever going to call in that favor.”

“Yeah, it was really cool. Thank you, but wasn’t it a bit ‘on the nose’ to use my parent’s basement as a reference?”

“Hey, it’s a good inspiration. Besides, you’re the one who walked into it, prior knowledge or not.” 

“Haha… yeah that’s on me… didn’t think it was actually going to do anything until Sam decided to fix the runes.” 

“Yeah, not the best move from a group perspective. But… Jazz said they’re expecting to finish it within the next year.”

“Yeah… maybe. Most of their stuff just covers us in goo. I just hope they finish it soon… they’ve been down there a lot, ya know?”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Anyways, I’m sure I’ll see you around. I’ll tell Jazz you said ‘hi’ whenever she gets home from tutoring.”

“Thanks, little dude. See you around.”

“Later.”

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[oathwilled]

arcana !!! @trevely4n ⇢ skill  checks !

result: 12 ( 11 + 1 )

It’s  like  something  that  tickles  at  the  back  of  his  mind,  a  word  that  refuses  to  form  —  he’s  aware  of  something  that  he  perhaps  should  know,  but  it  eludes  him,  and  it’s  frustratingly  exasperating.  It’s  a  little  box,  locked  up  tight  with  arcane  runes  inscribed  on  all  sides.  There’s  a  word  or  symbol  or  spell  to  open  it,  that  much  he  knows,  but  damned  if  he  can  tell  what.

His  patience  doesn’t  lie  in  fiddly  things;  he  presses  his  mouth  together,  passing  it  over.  "  Hells. See  if  you  can  tell  anythin’,  "  he  finally  sighs,  because  as  far  as  he  can  tell,  the  answer  to  whatever  step  they  need  to  take  next  lies  in  whatever  may  be  bound  there.  "  Else  we  should  probably  take  it  to  the  wizard.  "

[d0ctorstrange]

۞ Between the veils of the fabric of reality and the arcana of the universe, I tread the path of the unknown as the Supreme Magician. In the folds of time and space, I dive in search of the hidden secrets that sustain existence. Manipulator of primordial forces, I defy the limits of human understanding, dancing on the border between order and chaos.

My journey is woven with ancient enchantments and profound knowledge, forged in arcane libraries and astral meditations. I am the guardian of the invisible realms, the herald of dimensions beyond common perception. My staff stands as a beacon of light in the darkness of the unknown, guiding humanity through mystical storms and dimensional gales.

With eyes that have witnessed the grandeur and terror of the multiverse, I bear the burden of responsibility to protect interconnected realities. Every rune I inscribe, every word of power I speak, is an affirmation of my dedication to preserving cosmic balance.

I continue in search of the ultimate truth, peering into the enigmas of the gods and the tides of probabilities. My biography is a constantly evolving narrative, written on the pages of the stars and in the fabric of the planes of existence themselves. Welcome to my world of magic, mystery and interdimensional exploration.

۞ Entre os veús do tecido da realidade e os arcanos do universo, trilho o caminho do desconhecido como o Mago Supremo. Nas dobras do tempo e do espaço, mergulho em busca dos segredos ocultos que sustentam a existência. Manipulador das forças primordiais, eu desafio os limites da compreensão humana, dançando na fronteira entre a ordem e o caos.

Minha jornada é tecida com encantamentos ancestrais e conhecimentos profundos, forjados em bibliotecas arcanas e meditações astrais. Sou o guardião dos reinos invisíveis, o arauto das dimensões além da percepção comum. Meu cajado ergue-se como um farol de luz nas trevas do desconhecido, guiando a humanidade através das tormentas místicas e dos vendavais dimensionais.

Com olhos que testemunharam a grandiosidade e o terror do multiverso, carrego o fardo da responsabilidade de proteger as realidades interconectadas. Cada runa que inscrevo, cada palavra de poder que pronuncio, é uma afirmação de minha dedicação à preservação do equilíbrio cósmico.

Sigo em busca da verdade última, perscrutando os enigmas dos deuses e as marés das probabilidades. Minha biografia é uma narrativa em constante evolução, escrita nas páginas das estrelas e na tessitura dos próprios planos de existência. Seja bem-vindo ao meu mundo de magia, mistério e exploração interdimensional.

[crossdressingdeath]

Kyvir: [SORCERER] [ARCANA] There's magic at work here. Determine what kind. Narrator: *Warding runes - you feel them drawing energy from the console near to the pod.* Lae'zel: Are you satisfied? We need to go. Kyvir: This thing's magically linked to that console - let me see what I can do. Shadowheart: Hurry! Please! [...] Narrator: *The console appears dormant.* Kyvir: [SORCERER] Inscribe the device with the glyphs you sensed from the pod's warding runes. Narrator: *The console hums to life. The pulsing glow and organic lines of the device make it seem more like a beating heart than a machine. Perhaps it will open the nearby pod.* Kyvir: Place your hand on the console. Narrator: *Suddenly you feel a hideous squirming in your head. The parasite. Then discomfort fades, and another sensation washes over you. Connection. Authority.* Kyvir: [ILLITHID] [WISDOM] Will the pod to open.

So sorcerers can just bypass the bit where you have to get the eldritch rune to unlock the console by sensing the warding runes on the pod? That's fun. It does make sense that a sorcerer might be able to sense that instinctively!

[bardic-desperation]

Two Citadel OC's

(taken from my reddit post, original here and here)

The Wizard Sign's study, plunging into the depths of Kabani court, resembles nothing more than a cramped cavern carved of wood and parchment, in spite of its ample dimensions by most reasonable standards.

Gently gyrating orbs of magical light spread a soft glow over stalagmites of stacked research documents that have long spilt beyond the bounds of the large wooden shelves and chests lining the wall. Inside them, painstakingly scrounged secrets of the lingua arcana, discarded drafts of proofs to magical theorems once thought promising, as well as designs to complex arrays of runes, curves, and circles, interrupted seemingly at random by notes, diary entries, and in at least two spots grocery lists, and all of them liberally edited by a veritable menagerie of Ink Demons which have made the shelves their home, and which chatter with each other in an unintelligible and unending torrent of words.

The very largest of them, resembling nothing more than an imposing midnight-hued cat, with the exception of its opposable thumbs and a seemingly prehensile moustache which occasionally twitches with its owner's breath, is currently snoring on top a mahogany desk which sits below a stained glass window at the very end of the room. Hunched over it in a battered leatherback chair, a youthful, wiry figure of maybe thirty-odd years is feverishly scribbling away, pausing occasionally to consult one of the many tomes and devices strewn over the desk's surface, before resuming their activity. An impressive mane of on more than one occasion literally flaming red hair frames a smattering of freckles on a long, pale face adorned with a pair of electric blue eyes, a long, thin nose, and a wide, toothy grin, perpetually conveying an expression of childlike wonder.

The Wizard Sign's current query into the complexities of the lingua arcana's grammar has left them puzzled for now over a month. Their grin widens further still. Rarely have they been this delighted. ----------

On occasion, a gilded scroll leaves the depths of Malacanth Court to extend an invitation. The hand which issues it writes in impeccably elegant calligraphy, inscribed with razor-sharp precision in azure ink. The ones invited, after being led through a series of artfully decorated corridors and antechambers, and being offered chilled refreshments - a welcome and thoughtful touch in the midst of the Erulean Desert - eventually are led to a lavish suite to dine with a living legend of the Citadel, whom many agree to call surely the most beautiful man in Umora, for who could possibly match him in wit, charm, or sheer presence? His gentle gaze is warm, soothing, that of a dear friend, here at last after a long time apart, ready to take you in and hear you out. His impeccably coiffed hair seems spun of pale gold, his eyelashes are impossibly long, his voice musical, yet carrying. The guests talk. Their host listens. Their host understands.

They never refuse. And they are never seen again. The Wizard Smile, Head of Citadel Intelligence and Communications, sees to it personally.

Comment byu/ipazuty55 from discussion inWorldsBeyondNumber

Comment byu/ipazuty55 from discussion inWorldsBeyondNumber

[arcana-xvi]

Fear Not

Biblically accurate(ish) Angel descends upon a survivor of the Rapture. Thought it would be a fun perversion of the Christian mythos with some good eldritch horror vibes to it. Monster x Reader (F)

CW: Non/Dubcon, Monster, Breeding

When was the last time you prayed? Actually, really, truly prayed? You couldn’t remember, and perhaps now, amidst all the chaos and hellfire, all you could think of was perhaps you should have prayed more. Maybe then when the earth started shaking and the sky opened up to rain fire and ash across those left behind, maybe then you wouldn’t have been here– wouldn’t have had to see the horror and carnage that remained in a world abandoned by God and his legion. Still, there was hope to be had, if the rumors were to be believed. Angels descending from the heavens, finding those worthy amidst the end of days and taking them to what could only be believed to be sanctuary: Paradise above. 

You stopped going to work, after all, what was the point now that a majority of the world’s population had vanished into thin air, and civilization had broken down to the point of riots and general panic? Instead, you stayed barricaded in your home to the best of your ability. Bookshelves and dressers, once containers for precious items and necessities, now turned into a blockade to keep your door shut against the hell that raged outside. You knew that soon you would run low on supplies, namely food and water, and would have to venture out into the kingdom of hell to restock…but that was a problem for later. For now, you were content to stay inside; keep to yourself; and, God willing, avoid drawing any attention from the desperate souls struggling to remain alive. 

Time stopped making sense, nights and days blending into an endless blur of half-light and overwhelming heat or unbearable cold. It was cold when you decided you should settle in for some sleep, piling blankets and clothes on top of you to help keep in the warmth. You still weren’t used to the awful noise from outside, but with as exhausted as you were, sleep would come eventually. 

When was the last time you prayed? Fuck that, when was the last time you spoke to another person; saw another person? You tried to remember the names and faces of your friends as you slowly began to drift off, something you had started doing every night to try and keep sane. It was your own form of counting sheep, and even though you caught yourself making mistakes here and there, it seemed to work well enough. 

Perhaps it was the noise that woke you, if not then it was certainly the light. So bright that burrowing under the mass of covers you had assembled did nothing to block it out, but it was better than looking at it, or anywhere else for that matter. The light was painful, and while it didn’t burn, it hurt in a way you had never felt before. Your brain seemed to ache from it, your mind fraying at the seams from the sheer intensity of its brightness.  

Fear not!

The words seared themselves into your mind. Silent and deafening at the same time. Seeming to drown out every other noise, yet keeping the still silence of your boarded up room intact. When your hearing finally returned and the ache in your brain subsided, you realized you had been screaming, your throat raw from the agony you expressed. 

Fear not! It repeated, again directly into your mind, though not as intensely as before. 

The light seemed to dim, at least to a level your eyes could handle, and you peeked beyond the hem of your cloth fortress. Before you, slipping into your room by passing through the wall as if it weren’t there, was a horrific beauty. A sphere of wheels, lined with countless eyes, shining with such intensity it could surely not have come from this world. No, you doubted that it even came from this universe, especially as it seemed to pass through solid matter without a trace. The golden wheels seemed to spin and rotate independently of one another without being connected to anything at all. Every eye rolled around in a random direction, seeing everything and nothing all at once. Flames that gave off no heat danced along the wheels, taking the shape of large feathered wings that curled and encased the entirety of the thing like a cocoon…or perhaps the wings simply had the appearance of dancing flames. It was impossible to tell, and the longer you stare the more it seemed like both were possible as much as they were impossible. 

Within the center of the revolving, rotating, and spinning wheels was a mass. An undulating culmination of the impossible burning feathers. From within the mass peered out eyes of various sizes at seemingly random intervals. Though it never seemed to look directly at you, there was this unmistakable feeling that its entire focus was fixated on you, as if this being was devoted entirely to your existence alone. The pain in your head eased and gave way to a worrying placidity, as if your fear and fragmented thoughts had been smothered with a thick, warm blanket. 

Fear not! O’ that same gloria rang out in deafening silence. What reason was there to be afraid of such a beautiful thing? A herald of creation, one of the chariots that pulled along God’s throne itself. Yes, fear not, because this was salvation manifest. The shining light of redemption sent down to you, and you alone. To be taken up to the eternal kingdom and know peace and love and life everlasting. 

As you pulled yourself from your cathedral of rags and bed sheets, the eyes began to turn. Some slowly, some quickly, and still some lolling around before coming to land fixated on you. For the first time since its arrival it looked upon you directly, and from the mass of feathered flames that made up its core a single eye, larger than the others emerged. In its abyssal pupil you could see your reflection, marveled as you approached it slowly, reaching out a hand towards it. 

Fear not, and come to know me. Fear not, and come unto eternity. Fear not, and know I am your end.

The thing let out a strange keening sound. You clasped your hands over your ears, but still it found its way inside. You felt your very bones trembling as the foundations of your world fell away. The ground dropped from beneath your feet and the walls torn away with the howling of divine wind. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out the maddening sight of the material world being reduced to abstract concepts, though too late. You had already seen it��� already felt the way the physical world betrayed you and left you alone amidst nothing with this…this thing. 

When the noise finally subsided and the sensation of everything you had ever known to be solid and true being torn away in a single breath had finally ceased, you felt yourself floating. Suspended in neutral nothing; neither warm nor cold. You dared to open your eyes and lower your hands from your ears. 

It was there, as you knew it would always be. Its eyes upon you as it spread its wings wide, flaming feathers shining lightlessly into the nothingness. A permanent fixture in this empty world, and its attention was solely on you. The incomprehensible mass of feathers and eyes that made up its core shifted as it moved closer– or was it you being pulled close to it? It was impossible to tell in such a shapeless void, still, the distance between you and it began to close. The wheels began to rotate in such a way that you passed through them, coming close to the thing’s core. Its wings folded around itself in impossible ways, the flaming feathers collapsing inwards and wrapping both itself and you in a warm, plush prison of feathers and heatless flames. 

Close now, you reached out your hand, moving felt like being underwater, but you were determined to touch it, to feel it. You only managed to brush against its feathers for the briefest of moments before your hands were wrenched away, pushed above your head, wrists held together by some unknown and intangible force. Dragging you upwards, the creature held you suspended in front of it by your bound wrists, like dangling a piece of meat for some beast to snatch up. 

The keening noise rose again, blossoming from the center of its feathery mass, and you shut your eyes against it, though could no longer cover your ears. The sound washed through you, reverberating in every bone, muscle, and cavity that made up your mortal coil. It was uncomfortable at first, but then…strangely soothing– as if the soundless screech was being tuned just for you, adjusting its pitch and frequency to match you specifically. After a few moments fear began to melt away and it was…pleasing, almost pleasurable in a way. As it continued you somehow knew that this strange noise, this hymn, was meant for you. Specifically for you, as if your very name and soul were woven together in a single gloria. 

Your muscles began to relax, and as you stared into its large central eye, you felt something shift. Movement from the corner of your eye, yet nothing was there except the eternal void which was now your home. Still, in your periphery you could see the movement, like a hand reaching towards you. 

Be honored, child, to be chosen, to be so blessed by our touch. Fear not, for it is decided that your body will be Eden reborn. 

You tried to interpret its words, so oddly cryptic was it when it spoke, but your thoughts were interrupted by a touch along your cheek. A hand– its hand, unseen but very clearly felt, stroked against your skin with such a delicate touch. It traced down your cheek and lightly danced along your jawline, moving under towards your chin where it lifted your face upwards. Unable to fight the unseen hand, you found yourself gazing into the abyss above, as you felt it gran your jaw with a strong, demanding grip. Tilting your head from side to side you could feel the gaze of legion burning into your skin, as if it were examining you. 

Another touch, this one lower, tracing along the neck of your shirt. You knew that if you looked down you would see nothing, still you could feel it all the same. It gripped the fabric of your shirt and with a sudden, forceful motion pulled away the cloth as though it were simply paper. 

You let out a gasp, shocked by the sudden forceful exposure only to have the grip on your jaw and wrists tighten, as if in warning as well as a show of its strength. Before you had time to speak another touch along your waist caused you to falter. It grabbed the waistline and, just as with your shirt, tore away the clothing with remarkable ease. There were four distinct places where you could feel its touch. Squeezing your wrists, holding your jaw, dancing along your collarbone, and now gripping your waist with what you could only assume was a hand, though the size and amount of fingers made you glad it remained invisible to you. 

Panic began to set in. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but as you tried to struggle, to pull your hands away and kick your legs, you felt more grip you– grabbing at your ankles, your thighs, your waist, your throat, your shoulders…so many monstrous hands holding you still, making you endure the examination. A scream built in your throat as you fought against it, struggling to pull free any part of yourself, but before the sound could pierce the air a heavy hand clapped over your lips, smothering the scream before it had a chance to fly free. 

Fear not. It repeated, its unsettling amount of fingers and hands squeezing you tighter; pulling at you, exploring you. The hand on your throat squeezing, its many fingers digging into your soft skin causing you to gasp for breath. Tugging at the grip on your wrists you fought it all the while, though it seemed wholly unfazed by your feeble attempts. You could feel your heart beating frantically against your ribs, and worse still a wave of shame as your body betrayed you, the heat between your thighs becoming too prevalent to ignore. 

Almost as if it knew, the thing pried your legs apart just as easy as it had torn away your clothing. Its gaze (or at least part of it) drinking in the sight of your undeniably wet panties. You felt a blush burn through your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut, a single sob causing you to jolt, though the sound died in your covered mouth like the scream before it. You could feel its hands crawling up your thighs, numerous and uncountable fingers stroking and squeezing the soft, sensitive flesh. Before you had time to really appraise the situation you felt more hands tearing at your camisole, ripping away the fabric with ease and exposing your chest to its wandering, piercing gaze. 

Fear. Not. For the seeds of our future shall be sewn. You will be known as Eden; as Mother; as the Willow of Life.  It seemed to growl within your mind, the words, once almost musical now seemed…discordant, unhinged…desperate. Its eyes went wild, jittering back and forth as it focused on everything and nothing at once. 

Oh no, fear was there, most certainly. Your insides churned as you thought of its words. Garden, seeds, mother…tears burned your eyes as the pieces started to connect in your mind and what it intended to do. You tried to beg, plead with it. Words and screams snuffed out by its powerful grip on your mouth. You could feel its hands on your breasts, groping them forcefully. The idle thought struck you of the blooming purple blossoms that would appear as sore reminders of its touch. Such a strange thought to have, but the mind does strange things under duress. Suddenly the sensation on your breasts changed as the thing pressed what you could only assume were its palms firm against your nipples. The flat surface of the unseen hands seemed to churn and split, as if a pair of lips were opening there. You tried to pull away from the unusual sensation, but against its iron grip movement was but a distant memory of a freedom you once had. The strange mouths enveloped your nipples, unseen tongues and teeth and…feathers? Perhaps, at least that’s what it felt like, began to caress them, pull on them. Each action causing a shameful, unwanted throb to your pussy, further soaking your panties– which were by no doubt practically see through at this point with the amount of arousal that leaked from your twitching and anxious cunt. 

You felt a pressure on your thighs, the being using its hands to push your legs apart further, almost painfully so. Tears streamed down your face as you attempted to thrash against it to no avail. It began to shift, its feathers of lightless flames ruffling and twisting as it seemed to bristle, its eyes lolling around aimlessly. You could sense it before you felt it, something massive between your thighs, obscene and perverse. 

How long has it been since you last prayed? You couldn’t remember, but in this moment you began anew. Begging to God for mercy.

God? Fear not. God is dead. Abandoned us all long ago. We are God now. The Father rots as the Mother is chosen! There was hate as it spoke to you, such heavy, burning hate. You felt it, and where it touched your skin it seemed to burn and sting as if this thing could turn emotions into sensations. 

It was then it dawned on you, through the flood of emotions and its reactions to your prayers. This…thing was an angel. One of God’s first children and holy host. Though at this moment, nothing seemed holy about this creature. It seemed crazed, so far removed from its former grace and purpose that all glory was replaced with madness. 

You snapped out of your thoughts as you felt something press against your soaked panties. Though you couldn’t see it, couldn’t even try with how you were being held, you knew what it was. Screaming into its hand, your struggle found renewed vigor, desperate to pull away, to escape; however, it was useless. The beast was too strong, not to mention the sheer endless amount of hands it seemed to have. You felt the pressure against your panties grow more forceful, the blunt, rounded shape of its tip confirming the fear of what lay in store for you. 

Without further warning or preparation, the Angel pulled you down, its thick rod smashing against your panties. With its strength and unyielding rigidity of its unseen cock, it managed to push its tip into your cunt, the fabric of your panties clinging to it as it stretched you slightly. The storm of panic raging within you intensified as it became clear this monstrosity was about to take you through your panties. 

You attempted to bite at the invisible hand over your mouth, though it was impossible, not only were you unable to even open your mouth, but as you felt your lips move against the palm, it seemed to shift itself in such a way that attempting to bite it would prove impossible. Twisting and pulling your legs, trying your best to close them was just as futile. The burning stinging sensation you felt when its anger flared subsided, changing into a strangle, warm tingle. The more you struggled, the more intense the sensation became, as if it was enjoying the futile effort you put forth. 

Once more it pulled you down onto its Angelic cock, pressing harder into your entrance. You could feel its arousal straining against the thin, wet material of your panties, slowly gaining entrance to your cunt. Then there was a sudden tear, you swear you could hear the fabric being shred as you felt the large appendage sink deep into your core. Another wail was smothered in your throat as your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming mix of searing pain and shameful pleasure. 

The Angel shuddered, its large, inhuman hands pulling and squeezing at your body. You swear you could feel claws dig into your soft skin, and what could only be described as more mouths biting and sucking where its palms pressed against you. The burning, thick cock stuffed into your human cunt throbbed to a strange rhythm as it withdrew from you just a few inches before being slammed back against your cervix. You could feel your shredded panties clinging to his shaft, scraping your insides as it stretched your inner walls. 

You had given up trying to scream at this point, your muscles giving out as that last thrust almost knocked the wind from you. Teeth brought searing pain to your nipples, and shamefully caused you to clench around the Angel’s massive dick. You felt a noise rumble in your throat, though not a scream, a moan. A vocal admission of desire and acceptance of what was happening. 

It began to move more, faster, its cock pistoning in and out of you with an eager, primal need. Each pass of it caused your cunt to stretch uncomfortably, yet with a strange satisfaction– the animalistic desire to be filled, to be bred. The twin mouths on your nipples began to suck, pulling the little buds of flesh into a matching warm, velvety embrace. Heat flushed through your body, and you were all too aware of the liquid arousal that dripped from between your thighs– a glistening reminder of your body’s own betrayal. The creature sensed it, the reluctant pleasure that slithered through your core and blossomed outwards. Digging your nails into your palms you tried to fight it, tried to hold the waves of carnal delight at bay. You didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this…yet, to your disdain and chagrin, your body came alive at its touch. 

Your skin began to heat where it touched you, searing warmth spiraling out and tangling with your own. It brought forth new sensations, unnamed feelings you had never before experienced, as if the Angel was sharing its own sensations with you. Your legs began to shudder in its iron grip, and you could feel your cunt clenching and twitching around large cock it continued to fuck you with. Through its touch you could sense how tight you were, could feel how soft your body felt in its hands and mouths. 

The sensation began to change, heat gave way to a fluttering feeling. Every part of your body felt as though you were in a storm of feathers; each nerve bursting with sudden and fleeting feelings of pleasure, but these feelings were not your own. Horror set in as you realized what was happening, the creature’s cock began to swell and throb harder in your core. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world, to retreat within and hide from the maelstrom of pleasure and pain and emotions, both your own and the sensations inexplicably shared by the monstrous Angel. Though try as you might, it didn’t stop from feeling every gloriously painful inch of its dick as it began to spasm and convulse inside you, the burning hot cum filling your insides with every throb and twitch. 

The Angel’s orgasm pushed your body into full blown betrayal as your own, reluctant orgasm blossomed within, heat spilling out to every part of your body as you contracted painfully around the massive rod still inside you. You wished desperately to cling to something, have anything to hold onto, but amidst the storm of pleasure and emotion you had nothing but the bite of your nails into your own palms. 

You felt a lurch, like your stomach dropping when you miss a stair going down steps, and the sudden rush of cold wind dancing over your sweat drenched body. There was something soft beneath you, lumpy and awkward, yet still soft. Eyes still shut, you focused on your breathing, fighting through the storm to find a moment of calm. Realizing how tired you truly were, how ragged and exhausted your body was from the carnal abuse it had just endured, you found yourself slipping and drifting into sleep….

“No!” You woke with a scream, clutching one of the many blankets to your naked skin. Panic slowly started to fade as you realized you were in your own house with the door still barricaded: alone. You fell back into the covers and ran your hands over your face…what the actual fuck was that? You didn’t know, it felt like a nightmare, quickly fading from memory. Though with how badly your insides ached, the strange, full feeling you carried in your lower stomach, and the 8 little red scars in your palms from your nails…you knew that there was no difference between nightmares and the waking world. Not anymore. 

[izar-tarazed]

01. The magician and 10. Wheel of Fortune; for Izar, 18. The moon; for Ensha :)

(major arcana inspired headcanon questions | prompt list is here)

🧙‍♀️ the magician : how does your muse feel about fate ? do they believe they can change their own destiny ?

That’s actually something that troubles Izar a lot. She finds herself in a world where the notion of an assigned fate is a certainty, not a belief; as an astrologer, her whole profession—and identity—evolves around the idea of reading fate from the stars; and as a Tarnished, she has her path seemingly laid out for her.

She struggles with all of that, and feels increasingly guilty that she doesn’t really desire to claim the Elden Throne. Also, her understanding of astrology is that the stars—when in movement—hold warnings and promises; inscribed in them are possibilities rather than destinies set in stone. When she gets to know Ranni who is all about forging her own fate, I think Izar is particularly impressed by how unapologetic Ranni is about that. In a way, Izar has always been sure that she can change her destiny, but felt as if she’s not allowed to and should feel guilty about it. So part of her journey is to become more confident about what she desires.

[Edit: I wrote this before the latest update in our RP thread, and Nepenthe’s words there are exactly what Izar needs to hear to become more confident about her own wishes, fitting so well that I almost thought I had already posted this!]

🎡 the wheel of fortune : how well / badly does your muse take setbacks on their goals ?

For the most part, Izar is surprisingly chill about that. She’ll take a deep breath, consider her options, get a clear idea of the damage done or taken, then figure out the next step. She’s persistent and will just try again. That mindset might partially be related to her condition as a Tarnished who knows that, in a worst case scenario, she’ll just be brought back by the grace: Izar has the certainty that in most cases, she’ll always get another shot.

Sometimes, she will need time to deal with whatever happened. (If, for instance, one of her star maps would get destroyed briefly before finishing, she’d basically be grieving before she can move on and start anew.) But it’s also true that sometimes she’ll choose to walk away and come back later not because she really needs to, but simply because it’s the easier path instead of getting back at it right away. (This is where she differs from Ensha, who’s all about putting in the damn work, and starting right now.)

🌘 the moon : what does your muse long for ? is it a realistic desire ?

So Ensha has been stubbornly silent about this, but I keep coming back to the idea that he’s basically longing for freedom while still having purpose (and a place to belong). To an extent, this is what he has when he’s travelling with Izar, but he’s also still in Gideon’s service. And while I’m still not completely sure how I imagine that relationship, it’s sure to be complicated, and not one Ensha could walk away from so easily. After all, serving has given him purpose for a long time; so much so that he’s somehow convinced that they are, in a way, inseparable, and he can’t forfeit one without the other. To him, there is no purpose without commitment, and freedom comes at the expense of both. Every choice that he makes for himself first and foremost does, at the same time, feel like it threatens to sever his commitment, and therefore his purpose. Ensha doesn’t have the guidance of grace, but—not unlike Izar—, he fears what he might lose if he strays off his path.

What he longs for is to have both, a path of his own choosing and purpose, or at least, a sense of belonging—but to him, that doesn’t seem possible, not in the long run.

[atlas-the-sage]

My Self Made Rune Rules For DnD 5e. Part 1.

Pls note I am dyslexic and not great at formatting so sorry for any unclear parts I will try to do my best to clear up any in comments or in secondary versions of this. As well I'm not a big user of Tumbler or like posting to social media at all, so Idk any etiquette or such so sorry.

To give a little context, I am currently running my own very homebrew and self made dnd world and game. It has a lot of rules for crafting and doing small stuff like this, this is why Ryokos Guide To The Yokai Relms by DnD Shorts is mentioned below since its a part of what we are using. My players liked how I described how runes worked in my world and wanted to play with them, and I couldn't find any system that did what I wanted to do so I made this to try and add a fun way to mess with stuff for them. My game is set in a industrial revelation during the renaissance time period, though its a completely homemade world so their more themes then anything. It is very high magic and has magi-tech. Thank you to anyone that reads this and any feedback would be nice. If anyone wishes to use my rules pls do use them, just pls do give credit.

Rune Rules V1

Anything and everything can be endowed with a magic rune, from a steel sword to a playing card. To put a rune on an object, you must first know the material's strength. To find this out, roll the relevant tool proficiency with intelligence. Common items usually have a low amount of strength to hold a rune, i.e., a playing card has 1 runic slot, meaning it can hold a rune of 1 slot value. The same is true of common swords, since they have no special effects. Runes come in many shapes and sizes, for that matter, so depending on the complexity and strength of the rune, it has a slot value. To escribe a rune onto an object, you must first get a magical substance of some kind, like crashed dragon scales mixed with crystal dust, that creates the base, then you must pass a skill check that is by relevant tool proficiency, i.e., trying to put a rune on a playing card you need to paint it on, you would need painters or calligraphers tools and an ink-based starter, then do a check of that tool and its relevant modifier, like dex for painting, plus your arcana modifier to pass a dc that is determined by how many runes and how powerful the effect is. Though if you have no experience with runes, you can still try, but it is a higher dc, and you can’t add your Arcana mod. As well, it takes time to combine materials needed to make the runes, so that is applied by Ryoko's rules on crafting and time, but runes are crafted instantly after they are burned on. An example would be to put on a basic ignis rune; this rune makes it so whatever is put on sets on fire, though it does not make a consistent output. It would be a dc of 13, so you would have Roll Painters Tools (Dex mod) + Arcana mod =? If above, it burns onto the card, and you can activate it with a push of magic. Mechanically, you just use a bonus action or an action if it's on a movement of the item, like throwing the card while activating it, and it sets the card on fire. You may try to inscribe a random rune onto something for whatever reason; this will significantly increase the DC, and if you fail it, you have to roll on the wild magic table for a catastrophic effect, it will also destroy whatever you put the rune on. Now onto the complexity you can handle. This rune system is based on the basics of coding. How this is done is that if you want runes that work together, you need to make a magic circle around them and tie the runes in order of activation to get your intended effect. The circle is made out of the same substance used to put the rune on. If there is no circle connecting them, the runes will still activate but will not work together; i.e., if you put both a frost and a fire rune on the same sword to get steam, they would just cancel out instead of working, but if you put a sharpness rune and a fire rune on together, you can activate both, and they work just fine. Normal magic and magical items are used by different rules of the weave, so this does not apply to them. Now if a circle was used on the frost and a fire rune made them active together, it would then make a steam-based weapon.

[brinefathomcaves]

Brinefathom Caves Level 1, Part 5

1.43: The Staring Statues 1.44: The Oil Trap 1.45: The Pilloried Pirate 1.46: The Pool and Ledge: Ledge about 2' wide surrounds large pool. Water about 10' deep, reaches 5' below ledge. Empty. 1.47: The Natural Bridge: Stone bridge across river, slick with spray. Railing made of logs and rope. Empty. 1.48: The Useless Wards: Floor inscribed with intricate wards that spark harmlessly when creatures pass over them. Arcana to determine that (a) the wards are meant to protect against undead, and (b) they were misdrawn and do not work. Empty. 1.49: The Scriptorium: Stone tables. Stone shelves carved right out of the uneven walls. Ledgers of burials, mostly in common.With 4 dungeon turns of research, a creature can find where any specific person in the catacombs is buried. Empty. 1.50: The Pilfered Temple 1.51: The Hanging Garden 1.52: Hjuldar’s Crypt: Door long removed. Stone sarcophagus’ lid carved with likeness of occupant; “Hjuldar Dimdelver” inscribed in dwarven. Body wearing rusty chainmail and holding a greataxe. Empty. 1.53: The Burial Hall

[infjtarot]

Ace of Cups. Weiser Waite Smith Tarot

A hand appears in the sky holding a golden chalice. Five streams of water spill out into the water below, where lily pads float. Leaves from the Tree of Life waft in the air. A white dove is placing a sacramental wafer into the cup, upon which the letter “M” is inscribed in reverse. Could the golden chalice be emblematic of the Holy Grail? The Ace of Cups signals the beginning of prosperity, of overflowing love, joy, beauty, or health. There will be a breakthrough. There is fortune in love and marriage. Much happiness and peace are found in a new relationship. If the Seeker is asking about romance, this card indicates that a prosperous, joyous, healthy love is coming. The dove represents peace and harmony. In the Golden Dawn interpretive approach, the dove represents Venus as the Great Mother, while the wafer with the cross symbolizes the earth She has created.83 The theme of the card is spiritual fulfillment. There may also be support, presence, or help from the divine. Streams of water spout from the source of divinity (or higher being, the spiritual life force), indicating a spiritual revelation. It could also represent a fountainhead, the chief source of success or prosperity; the concept of an original source. The Ace of Cups can be seen as the “indigo child” card, denoting the birth of a child who will be remarkably empathic, and intuitive, and seem to operate with a strong, maturely developed sense of self. Practitioners disagree on the alphabetical letter depicted on the chalice. Is it a “W” for A. E. Waite, the creator of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck? Or is it an “M” in reverse, and if so what does the “M” stand for? Mary Magdalene? Magic? Magi? Magus? And what would be the significance of the reversal? How an individual practitioner interprets the letter affects the specific meaning of the card to that practitioner. The approach adopted by this book is to interpret the letter as an “M” in reverse, representing the capitalized Greek letter “Mu,” which relates to the Phoenician letter “mem,” meaning water. Like tarot cards, upright indicates activated, present energy; a reversal indicates untapped potential or evolving energy, where the true outcome may still be uncertain. The reversed “M” is thus a symbol of potential energy spewing forth, becoming kinetic. Generally, the aces of the Minor Arcana suggest opportunities presented and the corresponding elemental association will indicate the nature of the opportunity. Here, the Ace of Cups indicates a recessive yin or even feminine force surrounding the matter at hand. The Seeker will be receiving rather than doing. Benebel Wen

[dndwithaerin]

Interlude - Conversations with Orbeck

Earlier in the day at the lighthouse, prior to Orlaith's revelation and the group's brush with cosmic horror, Laura and Orbeck shared a quiet moment. Knowing his knowledge of the arcane far exceeded her own, Laura surmised Orbeck may be the best person to ask for information on the mysterious Gate spell that her father had allegedly offered to Lord Taylor as a condition of her marriage.

Attempting to broach the subject nonchalantly, asking merely if he had heard of the spell. His expression, normally fairly blank and unreadable, immediately dropped as he seemed almost taken aback at the mere mention of it. He stammered through his words, asking how Laura had even heard of that particular piece of arcana.

Unable to speak wholly truthfully on that matter as condition of her deal with Will Mercier, Laura could say only that she had heard of the spell in passing; a rumor that her family had once possessed a scroll containing Gate. Orbeck's tone dropped further, muttering to himself before offering an answer to Laura's original question.

The spell Gate, as he would go on to explain, was one of immense power, able to forge connections across space and time, to realities completely separate from their own. A Dimension Door or Teleportation Circle would pale in comparison. The value of such a spell nearly incalculable, with an infinite number of applications running the gamut from truly benevolent, to unfathomably evil.

This was all the information Orbeck would offer, asking only that Laura let him know if she heard any more rumblings surrounding the scroll. It seemed immensely important to him, as though a matter of life or death. Laura agreed, though she would not reveal her full knowledge at that time.

In the days following the trip to the lighthouse, Orbeck had taken Laura by surprise by approaching her after class. Often this would be the other way around. He asked if she would aid him in re-inscribing the spell runes he had expended from his body during the fight. Laura did not even think twice before agreeing, owing him for both the duel, and now the battle in the lighthouse as well, knowing he would not have been in either situation if not for her and Orlaith's prodding. Sating her own curiosity surrounding his magical method would simply be a bonus on top of repaying her friend.

Though, for the rest of the week, Orbeck seemed evasive, unwilling to decide on a time and place for their meeting, his introverted tendencies getting the better of him. Eventually, tired of waiting, Laura took the initiative and made her way to the room he and Sean shared in the school's dormitories.

Sean had been distant since the lighthouse, and had even taken some time away from school, going to visit his family back in the slums. In that time, it seemed Orbeck had completely regressed. It took many attempts at the door for Laura to even get a response from the recluse.

Once she had finally been granted entry beyond the doorway and its myriad locks and security features, what she saw was, to her eyes, chaos. Books and scrolls covering every flat surface, with nary a place to sit let alone sleep.

Orbeck requested absolute secrecy from Laura before they could begin, as he was to reveal his most esoteric magics. "What's one more secret?" she thought as she agreed, going as far as to cast her own Arcane Lock on the door, further ensuring their privacy.

He began with the origin of the spells and the techniques used to inscribe them. His spell, a surge of electricity somewhat similar to a Shocking Grasp, though carrying much greater force, to which he had not given a name, was adapted from the knights of a land called Mithlan. Great wielders of both sword and sorcery.

The means by which he had etched these spells into his skin, allowing him to invoke many of them at once for yet more devastating attacks, however, were much more sinister. Originally employed by wardens using the magic to track prisoners, the tattoos were as chains, ensnaring him and ensuring his servitude. A pawn in a higher power's game, to which Laura could relate.

Laura would return his honesty with her own. The truth of the Gate spell scroll, and to whom it had been offered. His mental state seemed to spiral. It seemed, to his mind, the head of the imperial military coming to own such a powerful spell would spell certain doom for whatever personal mission Orbeck was on.

Attempting to sate his worst fears, Laura assured him she would do everything within her power to not see the wedding go through, and to not hand Gate over to Odric Taylor.

Assuaged somewhat, Orbeck, now removing his shirt, began to explain the process. Producing what appeared to be a rounded dagger, with a channel for ink running down the center, a truly sinister implement, placing it in Laura's hand, guiding her through the process. Though first allowing her to inspect the inscriptions that remained along his left arm.

Beyond just the magical energy they exuded, it was clear to Laura that there was an emotional component as well, and these were suffused with powerful feelings of negativity. Loneliness, self loathing, hopelessness. Her attempts would be different.

For her first attempt, Orbeck encouraged her to draw on her own knowledge to etch the spell with which she was most familiar. At first, the ink within the dark, ritualistic implement seemed to sputter and clot. The emotions with which she was attempting to infuse; hope, trust, friendship, seemed anathema to the tool, itself refusing them as if it possessed a will of its own. Though a little sloppy in execution, Laura was able to enforce her own will over that of the knife, inscribing the spell she knew well above all others, Tenser's Floating Disk.

Finding the results acceptable, Orbeck now opened his own spellbook, instructing Laura in the particulars of his own, unnamed spell, with which she would be etching in to the rest of his right arm.

Having a better understanding now, she decided to use her own tool for the remainder, flicking her wrist to produce a fine quill with a large, fluffy white feather. At first Orbeck protested, though he would quickly yield to Laura's newfound confidence.

As she pressed her quill to his skin, the ink flowed much more smoothly, almost effortlessly. The hours seemed to pass in an instant as she etched rune after rune. Although identical to those he had done himself, the aura surrounding them was unquestionably different. Lighter, as if caressed by a bolt of silk rather than the feeling of chains to which he was accustomed. The tears that began to roll down his face not escaping Laura's perception, though she chose not to call attention to them.

The full scope of the deed not yet done, but her magical power fully expended, the two decided to call it a day. Before making to leave, she scribbled a note on a piece of paper, leaving it conspicuously atop one of the innumerable piles of books. A name for his spell, "Orbeck's Shocking Smite". While standing in the doorway, she turned back with some final words for Orbeck.

"We may both just be pawns, but maybe we can help each other reach the other side of the board."

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