Doomevil
Keep Moving Forward
An Age of Uncertainty, 7000
1st Jann, 1st Day 7000
And so it begins the new millennium, an age of uncertainty with the Adelram Empire fallen 120 years ago and new kingdoms forged out of the ashes. The wars between Humanity and the Elven Kingdoms have already played a huge part in Kazarok’s role. And although magic within the Human sphere has diminished greatly, all is not lost as scholars continue to teach inspired students within the College of Middburg. Those who wish to study magic travel to the Kingdom to learn in due time.
Now new societies have risen up, from humans striving to get by, dwarves celebrating in the mead halls, to vampires ruling their subjects. Spring is here, flora flourishing under the powerful Sunn, the Circle of Life. Trade is improving between the Arajyd and the City of Venita while the Heisen continues to consolidate power in the East.
To the northeast bring a migrant group of gnomes seeking enlightenment led by Elder Zeek Worm-Foot, some consider him a bit off but his experiences ensures they will thrive by his side.
Rainbow Grotto
Sunn rose, spring time was here. The hares chewed on a turnip, entering a large hole in the dirt. But before the hare knew it, a red pointy hat hoisted the animal up, hopping onto the ground running away before someone grunted. A small hand grasped the dirt, rising as a gnome shielded his eyes from Sunn.
“Hurry the heck up Oleever, those nuts aren’t going to grow themselves are they?!” A booming voice echoed underground, causing the gnome to get out of the home, wearing a blue shirt with brown pants to accommodate. An older but hardened gnome followed, contrasting with a brown shirt and blue pants. Oleever laughed a bit, seeing his father in a grumpy mood, adjusting his tool belt.
“Settle Pop Pop, Sunn’s going to stay for a long while.” Oleever assured, walking towards the woods with his father as they saw a few gnomes leave out of their dirt holes, bringing their tools such as hammers and scythes for their farms. Pop Pop waved towards one of the distant neighbors, “Good morning Snaps.” Pop Pop said, receiving a wave back from Snaps who wore a green hat.
“Hello Pop Pop, better make sure the nuts are tended to. Meanwhile our beans are coming along well. I heard old Zeek’s been a little obsessive about the mushrooms lately.”
“As always.”
The north of Kazarok are infested with Orc and Goblin kind, scavenging whatever’s considered useful to their people. Although Orcs are considered dangerous to Humans, not all Orcs have a tendency to pillage or harass the population as some desire to live contently with their families. Such is the story of Clan Gor’Mok, for now.
Gromm’s Tribe
On the grasslands of Kazarok are native animals such as the perry dog. The animal was immediately impaled by a spear, a lone humanoid marched, lifting the animal with his spear. The red orc growled in frustration, looking how much meat was on the mammal. He turned back to the camp, walking at least one mile until he saw the large number of tents and huts. At least a dozen orcs were carrying wood and hide to set up more housing for their people.
He saw a familiar face, a red orc draped in war clothing. The orc gestured outwards.
“Gurak, you finally decide to help us with the tents?” He acted coy, walking up to his friend, clashing into an arm shake.
“Karth, bothersome as always.” Gurak nodded, eyes switched to the fire pit started by the young orcs. “How are the others holding up? We’ve been working fast already.” Gurak said as him and Karth took a walk. Karth sighed a load of relief they didn’t have to settle in the extreme climate anymore.
“Gromm told us it was simple, we set up the huts until everyone is here. Any animals we find goes to the butchers. I heard they were planning a feast.” Gurak mentioned as he patted on a running orc boy’s head, chased by other kids.
There are those who have migrated a long time ago unlike others that are recent. One example is New Heldon, Angels who have went through a catastrophic war leading to many sacrifices. However the Heldonians constructed a fortress to establish a stronghold for centuries, leading to the current day…
New Heldon
The country of New Heldon are mostly rural areas with small towns on lower elevations while the Fortress-Monasteries were usually called the stone-keeps by the human peasants. A young girl sat on a large boulder, overlooking the distant Fortress built centuries ago, the architecture resembling the old ones her family told in stories. Alice sighed, attempting to concentrate on her meditation while her dog tried to jump on top but to no avail.
“Alice! How’s it going?” A male voice shouted behind her, as she turned around to see her human friend below. He wore a brown sleeved tunic and black trousers, sporting messy short hair. Alice giggled, turning away to observe the view again.
“Hello there Ryden. What’s going on?” Alice asked. Ryden stared at the fortress, leaning to the side of the boulder. “Taking a break. For a little that is, til me and my father start sowing wheat. Growing season’s coming. I hope the Angels are merciful and just this year.” He prayed to himself as Alice gave a frown.
“Don’t worry Ryden, my father’s a kind man. He wouldn’t let your village suffer in peacetime. He’d understand, at least when I talk sense into him.”
“Oh I don’t doubt that Alice. Sometimes I say stupid things really. It’s weird to believe castles are that big. I heard they’re still building more.”
“Yeah…” Alice muttered, jumping off the boulder as her small wings helped her down. Her dog pressed his paws on her hands, panting. “Good boy. I’ll see you later Ryden.” Alice and her pet waved at Ryden, traveling to her home where her family lived. Her father was Jon Falwell, Head of the Manor. He was a Pure Angel just like the elite nobles in the fortresses while her mother was human, who died giving birth to her. Alice saw the household guard standing. She entered the large two-story manor as the guards recognized her, letting her in...
Of course, not all factions began through migration as we now see revolutionaries following the collapse of a mighty human empire long gone. This was an example where the people rose in mob rule and took over their own lives. Such was the Democracy of Everynia, a society situated in major human populations guided by not kings or nobles but free people. However the state itself forbids the use of all magic.
Everyn’s Road
“Keep walking, we’re getting close to the next stop.” A male raised his voice, waving his gloved hand over to his companion. Two men wore brown brigandine over their clothing, just ahead of a small merchant wagon. The merchant in question was a male in his forties, homely accompanied by a big beard
“Just a few more miles gentlemen, you won’t have to worry about wildlife out here.” The merchant assured as one of the sellswords sighed, holstering his short sword while the other shot a glare.
“Anders, relax. The only danger we actually came across were feral wolves and a few bandits. The old man said it himself. We head to this town and we can enjoy a cup of ale.” His sellsword friend cheered him up as Anders shook his head, clenching the grip of the sword. The merchant laughed, “Aye, I’ve been to this town before and it is well protected by the people here. Unfortunately, they frown upon hired swordsmen, but ignore it that’s not the worse thing.”
“People? No lords or a King ruling this land?” The young sellsword asked to the merchant, shaking his head, “Never seen them. But I can tell you, it’s very good for business: no merchant taxes, high demand of goods and they don’t hate you. Well if you’re magical they will.” He explained as they turned to the left direction, heading to the dirt road as the scenery slowly revealed a small sized town. Whatever arable land there was were already being tended to by farmers, sowing seeds and cutting weeds.
Anders narrowed his eyes, observing the farms as his friend snored. “In my experience, free doesn’t last long. But I suppose it’s better than Hildegard’s policy.” Anders said.
“Why do the people hate magic and gods here?” The young sellsword asked to Anders who focused on the dirt road ahead.
“From a commoner’s point of view, a person with magic is a dangerous person. A man’s religion forced on his fellows controls what they believe in. Someone like that in this land wouldn’t be welcomed.
Some migrants have settled in Kazarok for centuries, isolated in the mountain ranges and protected their people from invasion. The people of Mallen-Tol consider their mining and dutiful work a religious service in the name of Erath because they are a part of Erath. Mallen-Tol is an unusual kingdom where the Dwarves occupy a small part of the surface, leading an opportunity for trading.
Surface of Mallen-Tol
Within the mead hall on the surface, a pair of brothers clash their pints as a few bards played music in the background. The brother Lars had a large red beard, groomed neatly while the other Luron wore his black beard unkempt. They simply talked about their lives as each day to night was working.
“Hurry it up will ya? Do I have to buy you a drink just so you can end your turn already?” Lars asked as they sat facing each other playing a board game while Luron smirked.
“Well I thought you wanted me to go faster, not go slower. Quit rushin’, you got another 300 years anyways.” Luron insisted, finally making a move by pressing the knight forward, receiving a sigh from his brother.
“I heard the traders have been mentioning Elf activity. Something about heading into Kazarok. It could be a big problem later on.” Luron stated towards Lars. Lars slowly raised an eyebrow, planting his next piece elsewhere. “Okay, what’s the problem?” Lars said.
“I’m just saying. We’re heading into interesting times. Adelram Empire ain’t there to protect the men and women from those elfs. Beasts are coming in from the north. Sooner or later Duergor’s gonna have to act.”
“Not our problem anymore. I’ve seen too many brothers and sisters meet Erath just because some ambitious empire decided to go hunting and for what?” Lars shot a look of frustration, switching his energy towards his brother. They both sat silently until Lars spoke up, “Whatever it is, until the day they come in here and march on our home I’ll be waiting to put an axe up their arses.”
The legacy of the Adelram Empire as several races acknowledge was not all lost. The Kingdom of Courgeaux would a reminder and the closest target should they get invaded by the Elven Kingdoms. The Kingdom has enforced its peace and encourages its citizens to engage their energy on the enemies beyond Numerya.
House Castevès holds its title of a county from the capital Serene Navire, running rural lands as the Noble House rules over a castle. Lord Edward observed his children playing in the yard, a hand pressed over his wife’s shoulders. He saw his younger son Jean fight his sister with a wooden sword. His older daughter shifted to the side, the end of the sword close to Jean’s forehead.
“You’re supposed to parry Jeane. Try again.” Kathyrn said irritated, tapping on the sword twice on reflex while her brother rolled his eyes. Edward and his wife Alysanne chuckled before he turned seeing his eldest son Karl march towards him. Karl made a bow in respect, sporting a brown cloak, brigandine underneath.
“Father, Mother.” Karl greeted.
Edward embraced his son, then looking over his children in the yard. He saw how agile Kathryn was every time Jean made an attack. “Your sister’s getting better with the sword. You taught her well.” He said as Karl shot a smile, folding his arms. “She’s got a lot to learn. If Jean wasn’t so stubborn all the time, he’d put up a fight.”
“Let’s just pray to the Mother you and him won’t have to fight out there. You know I worry sometimes.” Alysanne sighed, hands together as she observed the field. Edward shook his head, turning to Alysanne.
“Peace won’t last forever Alysanne. When we have to defend our homes from the Elves, our King will remember our services.”
Elves were a controversial topic to the Human civilizations. Although not all relations are strained such as Cythia and Altheim, the race is treated with disdain by peasants. There is however a minority within Kazarok, considered of mix blood are half elves, sharing their appearance of human and elven. The Kazirian Legion served no one but the highest bidder.
Stronghold of the Legion
Within the stronghold of the Legion were three members sent for caravan duty, a merchant wagon containing supplies for New Heldon which was good enough for them. So far they had history working with the Monasteries. The others practiced shooting arrows in hay dummies while some played cards. The veteran Theovin Rodove strapped his water pouch to his belt, putting on his gambeson and the scabbard.
His two companions wore similar armor, the female sporting mail armor. She wore her hair short like a boy’s, done by the local barber while the other was male, adorned with a coat of plates.
“Looks like we’re about ready. Once the merchant tells us it’s time, we’re leaving. Yvlahne stick with the merchant, watch the trees. Stephon, you’ll be our back boy. And don’t fall for the bait again.” Theo shot a warning glare at the young merc, shrugging it off as horse playing.
“Only a few miles from here, we’d be better off finding abandoned villages for plunder for fuck’s sake.” Stephon exclaimed, hand on the grip waiting for the greenlight while Theo walked to the merchant. Stephon turned to Yvlahne, “I’m starting to think that was a glamor or something. Looked pretty old after we killed her.” Once she realized he was talking about the aforementioned bait, Yvlahne blinked, little to come up with a response.
“Magic most likely. Users whenever they like to set a trap place an illusion, I don’t blame you though. But I do think you should have listened to Rodove more. He’s only there to protect us.” She folded her arms, seeing Stephon flare up out of annoyance.
“I don’t need counseling. We’ve survived a ton a shit before, I know what I’m doing. That last contract could have been better but we lived didn’t we?” Stephon said but recognized he raised his voice. Yvlahne gave a look of pity til Stephon sighed.
“Doesn’t matter anymore. At least we’re doing alright.”
But not all people inhabited Kazarok but dwelled in an unknown continent far away from society as we know it. The islands in the southeastern were occupied by fairies called the Faere and other groups. Far away from main civilization, these fairies have dwelled in Nasroth for millenia. With the election of Ren Rimitiriua Rehanga, this has allowed the society to change into a new direction of philosophy and myth.
Two Paeres sat down, a young one and an old one who are gazing upon the stars. Their heads laid down as they pondered. The old Paere pointed upwards, at a star. "You see that? I believe these are vast gods outside of our origin. Prestigious people." He chuckled receiving a look of skepticism from the younger paere.
"I believe you're making that up. How about a better story Father? Save me the kid stuff." He exclaimed, leaving the old man to backpedal on his claim. "You're right, these aren't gods but rather massive gasses of something. I don't know." He shook his head.
"You're really bad at this you know that?" The fairy turned his head to his father, shooting a weak smile while the old man shrugged in compliance. "I know I know." He admitted. The old man looked outwards, making a frown his son wouldn't really understand since he hasn't reached that age yet. But eventually he will.
"The truth is that I'm not really like the others. I can't, what do they call it? Philosophize? When I was young they used to put me to work on building houses for the neighbors. I was a real socializer back then, but time went on and so did my friends. And now, all I have is you. I don't know what you plan to be, I don't know what you wish to do out there. But if you mind I give you some advice, well for starters: start thinking about working out. And secondly, there's no better friends than your people." The old man explained. He's witnessed a lot of stuff during his time and it was very important his son should at least know what he was going to do out there. The old man won't be around forever but his final years into this world was to teach his son all he knew.
"I understand Father. I'll be sure to learn all there is on magic. And maybe workout." The son pointed out.
"That a boy." He responded, as both of them gazed into the stars.
The Orc and Goblins put a major impact regarding the north of Kazarok, causing many native humans to migrate elsewhere or stick in their area. During the Adelram Empire’s reign the descendants of Everyn The Hero attempted to attack the Northern Goblins, nearly succeeding until the decline delayed their advances. Once the Empire fell, goblins were relieved. The society Northlin opted to make their culture different by setting trade and industry unlike those who pillaged and razed settlements.
Northlin
Five goblins huddled together, an impromptu bonfire acting as a meat cooker. On the fire was a charred limb presumed human. The head honcho of the pack Krig stuck a thumb on his lower lip thinking. Meanwhile a smaller and hunched goblin wobbled.
“Why I reckon Kard is planning something big, something that’s bigger and better than we’ve ever had before. They said if we ever gonna survive, we have to start acting smarter.” The goblin tapped his middle finger against his temple.
“That’s why he wanted us to make those trading deals with our cousins. Start a thing called, what do you call it? Ec-nom-a-ney?” A young one said as Krig nodded. “Yeah I geat what he’s saying but who are we foolin’ the world by doing this.” Krig asked.
“That’s what the boss is trying to figure out. Come on now, maybe we a lot better than we think we are. How do we know?” One of the goblins put up their arms in the air.
“We gonna have to see later. With those stupid humans empire gone this is our time now! Green kind is already in this land, now we start prepping!” Krig exclaimed, raising his fist into the air. The goblins cheered, rallied behind their brother...
As the Goblins and Orcs planned their course of attacks now that the Adelram Empire has long fallen. The legacy is still preserved for centuries like Hildegard and Courgeaux. Riflheim was once a shining jewel in all of the Adelram Empire. However after it fell, years of decadence and corruption caused the state to collapse under its weight. But one mysterious figure such as The Burned Prophet recites all is not lost. Wilhelm the Black follow his advisory, allowing the duo to reclaim Riflheim’s glory.
The ceremony was about to start, at least a thousand people showing up to witness a messenger of the Phoenix. A young man wore a red robe, adorned with red glowing jewelry as the crowd stood silent. The Messenger grabbed a torch, turning to the people.
“For centuries Riflheim was one of the greatest in all of Kazarok, flourishing in trade and culture. One of the powerhouses the Adelram Empire relied on for its wars. The monsters are closing in and the Elven are expected to rally their banners. We stand on the ashes but the Phoenix knows no death. We rise, stronger and wiser.” The messenger raised his voice as he lit the bonfire, causing it to enlarge significantly, allowing everyone to gaze into their future.
One of the soldiers looked outwards, folding his arms covered in full plate armor including his head. An grizzled fisherman laced his hands together, staring. From the distance the messenger raised his voice enough for everyone to hear. The fisherman turned to the soldier.
“I can’t imagine it was only 120 years. And now it seems like we’re heading into a dark direction.” The man admitted despite listening to the speech.
“You’re wrong Christian.” The soldier exclaimed, slowly turning his head towards the aged man.
“The Gods give us mercy because we will all play a role in these chain of events. They have driven us here because we share a destiny. They have cursed the Stormstrum Dynasty and the Melgaerons because they fell to corruption and greed. Humanity will prevail so long as we pray to the Phoenix and stay on the one true path.” The soldier explained through a raspy voice underneath the great helm. Christian sighed harshly, staring at the fire.
“I suppose. The Gods are good.” Christian renounced.
“The Gods are good...” The soldier repeated as they prayed.
Because of the increase in monster territory within the north. This caused native humans in that area to defend themselves through fortifications and create a militia. This has led to varying results from outright failure to successful that have lasted. One of these is the Korkari, who worship the First Chieftain who united the tribes in the north. The Korkari are pragmatic people, everyday there is work to be done.
Korkari Foothill Mines
“You know bread doesn’t taste bad with coal. Smells like shit but doesn’t feel too bad.” A group of miners was taking a twenty-minute break. They ate from grain and corn, gulping down on their fresh water pouches. One of the leaders named Bruze nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He then turned around, seeing a few men wearing armor walking to their outpost. They were closing in pretty fast, urging Bruze to look confused.
“Hey, get a load of this.” Bruze yanked his head. Several of the miners noticed the strangers by now, dropping their lunches and slowly come closer. There was about ten men, the middle guy shouting, “Morning.” Earning some suspicion.
“Who are you?” Bruze questioned, asking a question at one of the mercenaries. The mercenary stood silent until he walked forward, the Korkari workers dubious. These mercs were wearing full plate armor, pretty expensive gear for a sellsword.
“The Blitz Company. Protecting the people from danger. But protecting is an expensive profession that can only b-”
“Protecting who? From what?” Bruze asked as several of his men stared silently. These sellswords were also silent, until the middle merc spoke up for them again, albeit annoyed.
“Orcs and monsters tend to be a hassle on villages. If we would to protect people like you. Compensation should be due.” The sellsword put it out there while the miners still had an idea what he was talking about. Bruze sneered, scratching his pudgy stomach.
“And what compensation would that be?” Bruze asked.
“You know what it is. If you keep on jerking us off I imagine this isn’t going to end well.” The situation grew dark, the sellsword grabbing the hilts of their weapons as the miners were still in their same spots, not making any moves or people running away. Bruze narrowed his eyes, more irritated than ever.
“No I suppose not. So go on, get on with it. The people who are still alive will take off all that shiny armor and kick the shit out of you with it.” Bruze dared towards the ring leader, alerting a merc.
“We’re sellswords, do you really thi-
“Shut the fuck up!” Bruze shouted to one of the sellswords, still standing in place. “If you’re gonna make threats to us, you better hope you got a lot of backup for what’s gonna happen next.”
Both sides realized the big mess that they were going to endure. But for the sellswords who were trying to fool a few civilians, these people weren’t budging. In fact, some of them were clenching their pick axes, eager to participate in their deaths if they had to. The ring leader stared at them, the miners outnumbering them a great deal. The sellsword sighed, shaking his head as he turned away to the opposite direction, his men following him.
Bruze gave a dirty smirk, causing several of the miners to laugh in return...
After the Elven Wars, the entire Elven population was devastated from the series of Adelram invasions. This caused the continent of Numerya to fracture, leaving independent Elven Kingdoms to isolate themselves. One notable individual was Boreon The Betrayed who led his army in the isles of the Alorn Sea. The Betrayer founded his own kingdom, allowing his people to survive unlike those in Numerya. Despite this however, the Kingdom is considered unworthy and deserters by Altheim.
Gaenar’s Tower, Brotinnstao
The Elven signed off a document using a ballpoint pen as his wife stepped into his chambers. Valaena marched til they faced each other, gaining his attention. His eyes turned to her, dressed in black plate armor detailed with silver trims.
“Yes?”
Valaena gave a stern look, “The crew is waiting Vaeron, they expect their Captain on duty. Put away the pen and let’s go.” She placed her hands behind her back like a soldier which he got used to quickly. Nevertheless, Vaeron set the pen to a holder, rising from the chair. Vaeron adjusted his captain’s uniform, blue and black. Through the hallway they passed by a large portrait of themselves, Vaeron sitting down while Valaena stood closer behind his chair, hands over his shoulders.
One of the servants bowed as they went downstairs. Their household guard escorted them out of the tower, where they traveled to the seaport without trouble.
As they observed their surroundings they saw many markets open in this morning, allowing civilians to purchase exotic such as the soft furs from Mesados or expensive silk from the Heisen. One of the Elven merchants was even waving paper around in an attempt to attract tourists.
Heading to the docks was their sailing vessel, a three masted patrol ship designed for the sea. In front of them were the crew of the Young Lion, dressed in standard uniforms reflected from Brotinnstao’s colors. Each seafarer had stern faces, hands to their sides. Vaeron turned to his wife, nodding. Valaena marched towards the female column, taking her position.
“Let it be known that the Brotinnstao Navy prides itself as the first and last line of defense our Kingdom has from our enemies. You are here to patrol and fight for our people, the most important jobs a seafarer has. You will address me as Captain Gaenar and treat me with the same respect as anyone else here. As we set sail, our services will be rewarded with valor and remembrance. You are the Kingdom’s shield. We are the first and only, Maegon’s children. Understood?” Vaeron demanded,
“Yes Captain Gaenar!” Everyone shouted.
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Unknown Place
A hooded individual walked up to a mysterious jester, who was singing a rather bad tune. The jester turned to the guest, lighting up the candies in the entire room with a snap. The fireplace lit up, flames fueled intensely
“Ah. Hello there. Chances are if you came to see me, perhaps you’re more invested into this world than I thought. They call me Laughing Jack. Jack for short.” He gestured.
“Today we will be getting to know this world’s magic. Should you wish to understand if you want to conquer your enemies or become a legend, I’d listen.” His eyes widened, adjusting his posture as he readied his lute. “Now then, let’s sing a song to it…”
As people know across the world, magic is divided into eight circles. We will start off with some peasants calling the first four the positive sides, though a mischievous person would utilize what he has with him. Though there are a few things I should note: magic is taught from books, birth, or by a teacher.
Elemental Magic is the act of manipulating the elements to your will. Why, the elements are all around us. The novice users use fire, water, earth and air to give an advantage. There’s also other elements involved such as metal, lightning. Only the foolest fools would know it’s hard to master one element, let alone all of them at once. I know you think we can all create something out of nothing, but the truth is all magic comes with a price. You think fire is made without warmth, your breath, or Sunn? Water’s a similar concept: lakes, sweat, rain, ice. All the same. But don’t kid yourself, controlling the sea is a good way to exert yourself.
Transmutation is the art of altering an object or a being into something else. Lead turning into gold is one good example. But if you do it too much, the Gold Magisters are going to come around to your house and beat your legs in with the financial textbooks. You are also expected to know the laws regarding the object which means you’d need to have a good idea what the object is, what you wish to do with it. The circle is a science in of itself that requires patience and practice.
White Magic is the arts used for helping other people out of selfless act. These include but not exclusive to: healing, casting light, purifying water, exorcism. From my experience, every good Kingdom needs an experienced mage who practices in White Magic. Though there’s no hard evidence for this, it is said White Magic is more effective based on the purity and selfless of the user. Oh yes, did you know Vampires tend to stay away from these users? Fun thought.
The last of the positive circles is Nature Magic, a skill dedicated to the natural world. Nature users rely upon the trees and flora to accelerate growth time, drain their life, protecting crops from wildlife. I’ve seen experienced users change the weather in minutes because of their skill and stamina.
The last four to the peasants are negative circles, more destructive and generally seen as corruptive. I have heard in return they bring interesting side effects such as long life, healing wounds and great power. Despite this, I’ve witnessed kinder mages utilize these circles without restriction. But the temptation to use them could be very strong.
Necromancy deals with bringing the dead back to a reanimated state, obedient and persistent. This magic works well in hand with Blood Magic as Vampires are real naturals at this stuff. Some sorcerers use this skill to drain life forces around them, getting younger and handsome. Practitioners also communicate with spirits to Bringing the dead back to life as always has a price, meaning you’d need life to exchange for life, but it varies: A healthy horse for a group of skeletons? Easy. Bringing a human for another? Works well. But, be warned: What is dead will always be dead.
Conjuration allows users to summon beings from the other side, bringing things not of this world such as demons, headless riders and creatures we deem unnatural. I have seen summoners conjure the common wolf or even ghosts.
Black Magic is the opposite of White Magic, darkness, self serving and meant to harm others. Witches tend to use this for rituals and religious worship. One of the common spells is possession that mind controls the target. Clever ones use it to inflict terrible curses on villages. Some people cast nightmares making people panic in seconds. This power is dark energy at its full potential, casting powerful beams and causing destruction. But I must remind you, this magic is uncontrolled and volatile for the common individual.
Finally, we come forth and introduce Blood Magic, an art mages and sorcerers use to enhance themselves or others at the cost of blood. Blood users can also bind targets to their will. Fortune tellers use this magic to foresee visions of the past and future, how reliable I cannot say. Dark healers use blood to heal fatal wounds and diseases stronger than White Magic. Some scholars argue the health of the volunteer affects how strong the magic is compared to a diseased rat vs a healthy human being. I should note Blood Magic works well with Necromancy and Black Magic…
“And so we end our little lesson for today, child. It would be wise if your siblings took the time to come here for lessons, it could be very useful one day.”
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WORLD EVENTS
TURN END
SEND IN AS TURN 1, The due date is June, 14 2019. Grace Period is 15-16th
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