@Eckhart_Von_Musel @Armorend @CyclicalCycal @emeraldknight @DragonSong @Magyar @SilverDragonsBlood

I'm going to be a little tied up the next week or two with apartment hunting, and won't be able to reply to threads so quickly. Just a heads up.

Wanderers

Ewan ap Rhys
Ewan is a dashing wizard who quested for eternal youth, but got transformed into a small boy. He now travels in search of mischief and magic. Up for quirky adventures, being a sassy sidekick, and doing chores.

Connlaoth

Wylie Wyndham
Wylie is a daemon summoner, and young lord of a creepy swamp-village. His family harbors mages and worships ancient forest gods. Open for political intrigue, blood magic, and Jane Austen estate stuff.

Serendipity

Duke Blackthorn
Ruler of the fair-folk, harvest god, and mischief maker. Available for villainy and eldritch bargains.

Colby mac Arryn
An imaginative boy stuck on a farm in Serendipity. He is meant to be a protagonist in the Midnight Harvest. Colby is kind of a brat, but may work in other stories.

Kai Wilding
Pretty boy swashbuckler who turns into a donkey sometimes. Up for high adventure, and should probably go to a ball or something at some point.

"Kaliam"
A scrappy elemental mage fused with a snotty highborn mage. They're mostly confined to Wyrdwood Academy, but could go on some adventures in the area. Interacting with Kana's tribe, or Liam's old friends, might prove interesting.

Maergath
A cruel and demanding wizard. He is Magister of soulshaping at Wyrdwood Academy, known for his animatronic servitors. Up for intrigue, villainy, and academic stuff.

Saoirse Nettlefield
The headmistress of Wyrdwood. Up for politics, parties, and exchanging barbed insults.

Zantaric

Narlis Thordane
Narlis is a foul-mouthed dwarven mercenary and bandit. A true hero and romantic.

(@Eckhart_Von_Musel @emeraldknight @SilverDragonsBlood. I don't think we need a formal posting order as of yet. I suppose I passed the ball to Taig to respond first? Though characters can interject as they see fit for now I suppose.)

It was mid-autumn and not a day for drills or sparring. The wind was brisk so you had to wear a coat, and the sun hot and orange enough to make you sweat. Still, Wyrdwood's courtyard was packed with underclassmen. The young apprentice stood in pairs, some erecting magical barriers and others aiming to break them down. One boy stood triumphant behind a shimmering barrier of antimagic, only to yelp in pain as his partner conjured an ordinary rock atop his head. Meanwhile Meanwhile a tiny girl sat smugly within a sphere of darkness. The wall of shadow had, so far, eaten everything three baffled students could throw at it. Maergath paced up and down the rows of students, barking insults.

"Listen before I banish your ears you sniveling, mouth-breathing, afterbirths! A proper ward gusts outward, banishing bad air and anything on your skin. If you're too stupid to fear death and humiliation, you should be trying to get a moment's rest from the shitstink wafting off you!"

"Killed myself ten Mordecai before they shattered my knee. I drowned a White Lily in quicksand after. And none of you can't find your way past a little girl's shadow trick?!"

"Mephiportala," the old warmage growled. And suddenly, the girl wreathed in shadow began to shriek and sputter. Her shield collapsed, leaving a wretching apprentice and panicked skunk...

***

The two-headed boy lurched across the courtyard, unable to bend their knees because of a petrification spell that had yet to expire. "We're supposed to figure out how to use magic on people unaffected by it normally. You know, be creative?" Liam, on the left, grumbled.

"Whose gonna expect a punch in a wizard duel? If you'd help put your- our weight into that punch we could have broken it down I bet!" Kana grinned, flexing an arm.

"That's your solution to everything."

Beneath an archway on the far side of the courtyard sat three students, slumped against the wall, and nursing various bruises. "...hey," they chirped in unison, slumping down besides Susie.

Kana was not deterred by the somber mood. "Hey Taig! You wanna have a bout? Think I figured out how to do that thing you do where your hand turns all stony!"

Liam rolled his eyes. "All of us have gotten kicked around the whole afternoon. And we're going to get marked off for not doing wards if you two just wrestle around."

I'm usually shy from group threads because they tend to get derailed, or fizzle if someone takes a break. Still, I think a D&D styled exploration of the vaults beneath Wyrdwood Academy might be fun. I believe @Eckhart_Von_Musel @emeraldknight @SilverDragonsBlood were all interested? Otherwise I don't want to go above four players. This thread is mainly to coordinate what's going on in the thread. I think if we stick to a tight script and lay out the details of the Vaults here it will run more smoothly.

Right now everything is kind of preliminary. If you guys have other ideas about how our characters might know each-other, or why they're going, I'm all ears.

QuotePremise
Principles of Arcane Warfare is a course mandated for underclassmen at Wyrdwood. This semester Maergath was asked to teach it, and the old wizard is furious to have such trivialities interrupt his work. A great proponent of learning through pain and adversity Maergath had instituted a brutal regimen of drills and mock combat. Students with gentler dispositions, or talents ill-suited to creatively overcoming magical shields, find themselves thrashed on a daily basis. Four of such students sit in a courtyard nursing their bruises and waiting for some hexes to dissipate.

An older student, perhaps a family connection, takes pity on the four and hands them a crumpled map. It points the way to a library of forbidden books deep in the Vaults. The Blue Ribbon Basilisks have apparently been passing around the map for years, and all their best battle mages have the trip! Surely they'll prove to everyone what great wizards they are when all is said and done...

QuoteThe Wyrdwood Vaults
The vaults are a euphemism for the basements beneath Wyrdwood Academy. In truth its more a twisting network of caves. Maddening puzzles, crippling curses, and thick adamantine gates keep most intruders out. The chambers house everything from forbidden spell-books, to cursed daemon-mirrors, to quarantined fungal colonies. Only the headmistress and senior Magisters know its full contents.

Homunculi, imps created from fae-blood, serve as stewards and guardians. They are efficient, dutiful, and able to devour unwanted magic.

QuoteCast

• Kaliam
• Maergath (brief cameo)

So a few things:

1) I'm thinking we should try and keep the thread small in scope and stick to some kind of structure like? Figure it might be something like: (1) exposition in the courtyard;(2) following the map with a surprise or two; (3) breaking into the Library; (4) Investigating their treasure.

2) I don't want to make it follow such tight rules there's no room for creativity. If anyone really wants a certain encounter or conflict to take place we can discuss it here, and find a place to insert it.

3) Nothing's set in stone so feel free to include anything that might make a better story.

Names Kana Blackbraid and Liam Hargrove ("Kaliam" for short)
Age 14 and 14
Sex Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Duhjari and Serenian
Height 5'0"
Occupation Second-year Apprentices at Wyrdwood Academy
Residence Western Serendipity

Physical Description
"Kaliam" is a two-headed boy, fused by magic.

Kana, on the right, has a wide Duhjari face and dark hair drawn into pony-tail. Liam, on the left, has delicate Serenian features and shaggy black bangs. Both have the same hazel eyes. Their shared body is short and stocky with copper skin and swarthy black hair. Wyrdwood has relaxed its dress code for their sake, and they wear a loose-fitting blue robe with sufficient room for two heads. Separate wands jut from their left and right pockets.

Kana was tall and broad-shouldered. His skin was dark and his eyes brown. Liam was small, skinny, and fair. His hair used to be blonde, his eyes violet, and skin freckled. Their features seem to have bled into one another's since the fusion. Kana teases his new "brother" about their height; Liam complains loudly about having a hairy chest.


Personality
Kana is impetuous and hot-headed. He's boisterous, quick to make friends, and loves competition of all sorts from arm-wrestling to magical-duels. Being an orphan, and slave, Kana is very clingy and easily hurt. He appreciates Liam as a friend who won't leave him.

Liam is is bookish, somewhat snobby, and highly critical of himself and others. His assets include a sharp tongue and endless well of tenacity. He resents Kana for his talent and likability, and complains loudly about having no privacy. Of course, without Kana Liam would be a friendless social pariah.

It's been a year since the fusion, and seats have surely opened up, but neither has broached the topic a reversal...

Magic/Abilities
Each has control over their shared body, though as an unspoken rule Kana works their right limbs and Liam their left. "Kaliam" is capable of casting two spells at once.

Kana is incredibly talented with elemental magic. He favors earth and stone, though can conjure any of the four. The boy is always testing his limits: What can his stone fists break? How fast can he fly? How big an elemental can he summon? Despite this raw power Kana lacks any kind of finesse. He's got a hammer and every problem is a nail.

Liam favors illusion and prestidigitation. He can conjure small, useful objects which persist so long as he concentrates. While not very powerful Liam is careful and studious.

Relationships
Are they students subject to an unfair spell by lazy faculty? Best friends? Brothers? Kana and Liam are trying to work that all out.

History
Kana grew up in a tribe on the Serha plains. He was orphaned at a young age, though the tribe cared for children as a community effort, thus no love was lost. Having sorcerous blood, the boy was to be trained as a shaman. The tribe had a run of bad luck when the Grimgut Company poisoned their watering hole, and slaughtered their warriors. Slaves were demanded as tribute and parentless children were sadly the first to go. He spent a week in the Adelan slave markets when a lady in blue came by clutching a mirror. She showed it to each slave-child, who saw the key to their shackles in the reflection. Kana was able to reach in and grab it.

Liam was the third child of the Hargrove Family of Fallial. After two daughters they wanted a big strong knight, but Liam's gentle nature was ill-suited for such a life. The Hargroves were never really a mage-family and it took a lot of strings and gold to find Liam a place at Wyrdwood. An ambitious fellow had a rather creative solution to the matter of finding him a seat...

No one is quite sure if Wyrdwood simply wanted the Hargrove's patronage very badly, or if "Kaliam" was simply an experiment they wanted to try. The son of a minor family and a foreign-born slave could hardly object, after all. The boys are considered one student for administrative purposes, though Liam does most of the work. Liam's education has sometimes taken a back seat to the cultivation of Kana's talent.


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Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Wyrdwood Academy is one of the oldest wizard colleges in Serendipity. It is known for magical research that is groundbreaking, dangerous, and unethical. Because the school has graduated generations of highborn mages, from well-connected families, most are content to overlook such unseemly allegations. Its ultimate goal is to produce peerless mage-knights, and vaunt Serenian culture to its rightful place of dominance. The old guard cherish it, though Wyrdwood has clashed with the Order of the Moon and more progressive nobles. The school is fiercely competitive and patriotic. It loves draconian rules, slavish adherence to tradition, and cruel hazing.

The goal is a wizard school filled with reckless experiments and oddball traditions. But I want to make it very easy to get involved, and open to collaboration. It can sponsor adventurers, be the alma mater of a mage-character, or a player in political intrigue. You can find our discord here:

https://discord.gg/CYumdYV

Membership

Serenian mages make up the bulk of the school. Still, non-magical adventurers and visiting scholars have worked their way into the Academy. Foreigners are given a cool welcome. They face suspicion,  and their spellwork is treated more as a primitive curiosity. The cats and gargoyles of Wyrdwood keep a close eye on outsiders to dissuade snooping into secrets and forbidden lore.

Apprentices: Wyrdwood students, ages 13 to 21, are mostly drawn from old mage-families. Still, talented slaves and peasants are often admitted for the sake of new blood. Noble or common, they are stuffed into the same overcrowded dormitories, made to wear the same starchy blue robes, and given the same out-of-style haircuts. Apprentices are left to express their individuality and worth through raw talent.

Underclassmen

Aahva Chatterjee
Ailith Leighlin
Andrew Maxon, and his molecular magic!
Arthur Clearwater
Beatrix Evans
"Brandon"
Derek Ryder, at Wyrdwood to harass girls and go to parties! (In order to harass more girls)
Grent Killoran, "Prince of Dirt"
"Kaliam", conjoined apprentices Kana Blackbraid and Liam Hargrove
Laeni
Lulu Von Grimmelshausen
Plutonius Kingshield, Too Cool For School
Susie Rainfeather
Taig Harnas

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Upperclassmen

Aurelia "Rory" Marigold
Awendela "Sunny", a Duhjari shaman-in-training with many powers relating to animals!
Brahgo Ironjaw
Brendan Chase
Hana Splint
Kaylee
Morgan Strouse, who has gold magic!
Percival Clearwater
Rianharr Thalance, Self-Proclaimed Fashion Police
"Sprinkles", a Fae student with a creative side which she expresses through glamour magic
Thatcher Paulson, he has an "evil eye"

[close]

Fellows: Graduates, junior teachers, and wealthy donors are Fellows. They can walk the grounds, visit the libraries, and conduct research under supervision of a Magister. Most underclassmen are taught by Fellows.

Fellows

Alabaster Zinc, professor of disenchantment
Dorothy Summers, professor of prestidigitation
Ewan ap Rhys, awarded honors in the study of life magic, and duelist of the Blue Ribbons
Glinda Fare, Wyrdwood Librarian
Idara, professor of elemental ice
Ricardo Swantra, professor of magical weaponry and how to use it
Yarden Hale, professor of thaumateurgy

[close]

Magisters: Wizards recognized as masters of their craft are Magisters. They oversee teaching and experimentation. The Magisterium, their collective body, votes on matters of school policy and leadership. Most are old, crafty, and mired in petty intrigues. The position is political as much as academic, and most magisters come from old Serenian lines. I ask that you PM me before creating a magister, so we can discuss the character and how they fit into the school.

Magisters

Maergath, magister of soulshaping, First of the Broken Seal
Llewellyn, Magister of Familiars and Magical Beasts
Maggie Fen-Breath, magistrix of black magic
Saoirse Nettlefield, Magistrix of Elemental Alchemy and Headmistress of Wyrdwood

[close]

The Headmistress

Saoirse Nettlefield, Magistrix of Elemental Alchemy and Headmistress of Wyrdwood

[close]

Campus

Wyrdwood is a small, early-age castle built into the scrubby hills of northwestern serendipity. Its courtyard houses the the Wyrdwood, a gnarly old apple tree covered in eldritch carvings. According to legend it was grown from the cuttings of a since-incinerated world tree. Its towers are a maze of vast libraries, cramped bunks (smaller students sometimes sleep in drawers), and hidden menageries. Magic is incorporated into its very architecture, and corridors are rearranged each semester. The Lyceum houses libraries and lecture halls on the lower floors. The Attics, a euphemism for Wyrdwood's three towers, are for dormitories and offices. The Vaults are a network of caverns beneath the school used for experimentation and spellwork.

The Academy loves to showcase its magical excess. Flocks of overdue library books soar through its constantly rearranging corridors, though tardy students are made to sweep and mop.

Student Life

Most students are sent to Wyrdwood by virtue of family connections. Its not uncommon for junior instructors who are either unlucky, or passionate about education, to wander the countryside and slave markets in search for promising talent. Most begin their 8 year stints in early adolescence. Life at Wyrdwood is strictly regimented and the smallest details down to lunch and attire are micromanaged by persistent enchantments. Truly clever pupils will find ways around them, after all, and those inclined to follow rules are best suited to taking orders.

Course of Study: All students are schooled in the fundamentals of elemental magic, life magic, and metamagical principles. Upperclassmen are officially apprenticed to a Magister, or Fellow Magician, to develop their unique talents.

Culture: Wyrdwoodians are fiercely competitive and accustomed to fighting for accolades and attention. With each year and trial come new perks and privileges; older students perpetuate the pranks and hazing they endured the previous year (as gestures of affection, of course). Just the same, Wyrdwoodians form close friendships as a consequence of the shared ordeal. And upperclassmen do take little ones under their wing. Traditions at the Academy include:

• Midsummer Masters: A chess tournament where underclassmen, not off for the summer term, are miniaturized and made to fight as the pieces.
• Vaulting: Thrill-seeking students sneak into the Vaults, pilfering magical oddities for bragging rights. There's talk of a race of blind fish people (transformed students? dimensional interlopers?), a wish-granting mirror, and an undead wyrm.
• Lord Spencer O'Toole: Lord Spencer attended Wyrdwood Academy long ago, but he fell ill one day and returned home. The illness which could've been cured at Wyrdwood took his life at his home. His brother, an amateur necromancer, couldn't deal with the loss. When Lord Spencer died, his brother brought him back. Only... it wasn't done correctly.
• The Wishing Well: In the north courtyard, near the stable, is a wishing well. Its terribly rude and sarcastic. Curious first-years often throw junk into it for a laugh.

Room and Board: Wyrdwoodians are quartered based on age, sex, and standing. A bright girl in Year Eight might get a tower-top; ten boys in Year One will simply be crammed into a bunk. All pupils are given a set of starchy, azure robes. Stoles, gilded sleeves, and personal staves are awarded for advancement. Upperclassmen seated near the high table dine on roast game from Wyrdwood's preserve; underclassmen near the kitchens enjoy blanched greens and porridge.

Departments, Clubs, & Committees

Within Wyrdwood are numerous departments, committees, and fraternities. For every school of magic Wyrdwood has a practitioner. Elementalism is the favored craft, though it has pioneered the art of Soulshaping. Divination is banned for being the stuff of charlatans and primitives; a wizard determines his own fate, and the gyrations of elemental particles are inherently unpredictable. Key factions are listed below, but many others exist:

Blue Ribboned Basilisks: The Blue Ribbons are devoted to the art of wizardly dueling. Mostly it's a social club for rowdy young mages with a penchant for destructive pranks. Still, it's responsible for many lifelong friendships, petty rivalries, and society weddings.

The Broken Seal: Officially, the Broken Seal is devoted to developing weapons for the Serenian army. In particular it is known to dabble in soulbinding and the animation of golems. No one has officially asked if infusing soulstuff to steel is so different from necromancy. No one wants to know.

The Broken Seal hand-picks upperclassmen largrly from the Serenian aristocracy, and students willing to bend their morals for the good of country. Those chosen by Maergath can spend days in Wyrdwood's Vault conducting experiments, or vanish for months in order to conduct "field research." There are rumors abound of kidnapped test subjects and dragonbone smuggling. Many of it's members go on to hold high military office, or head more conservative households.

The Reliquary: The Reliquary is responsible for archaeology expeditions, and the catalog of magical anomalies, and fantastic beasts. It is very open to outsiders and new ideas. It openly consorts with unsavory adventurers and mercenaries.

Name Narlis Thordane
Age 94 (middle-aged)
Sex Male
Species Dwarf
Ethnicity: Zantaran
Height 4'8"
Occupation Hero for Hire, Commander of the Grimgut Company
Residence Zantaric

Physical Description
Narlis is the very picture of a noble hero. The dwarf's beady dark eyes and tobacco-stained teeth never fail to give passersby a friendly leer. His ashen skin is a crisscross of old scars. He keeps his head shaved and salt-and-pepper beard closely cropped, a matter of utility more than a fashion statement.

His preferred attire is a breastplate made of greasy black iron. It gives mages, Serenians especially, a sense of unease to be near him. Most notable is his cloak, a rainbow of feathers and scales, crafted from the wing of a luck dragon who terrorized Zantaric with healing rain and good fortune. Narlis, being a great hero, slew the beast.

Personality
Narlis is fierce, cunning and shrewd. The dwarf fights to win and savors the taste of victory more than material comfort; he'd sacrifice a fortune to see a worthy rival brought low. Though not entirely incapable of affection or joy, Narlis entirely lost without battles to plan, slaves to steal, or foes to crush. He settles for bragging and storytelling as a consolation prize.

Magic/Abilities
Narlis is cunning, paranoid, and ruthless. He is always ready for an ambush, be it physical or political, and loves the thrill of intrigue.

The dwarf is an experienced soldier, favoring a broadsword of greasy black iron. He is also dangerous with the pollaxe, dagger, and fist.

Decades of heroism and plunder have won Narlis an arsenal of alchemical and arcane wonders. Some of these include: Aetheril insense, smoked to see the unseen; and a unicorn horn, which mends flesh it pierces. Most notable is the Luck Dragon's Wing, a cloak of iridescent feathers. When the dragon's name is uttered it transforms into feathery wings, and a nimbus of rainbow and faerie dust purges harmful magic.

Relationships
Narlis has roughly one thousand mercenaries of the grimgut company under his command. Recruits are criminals, exiled mages, and slaves kept in check through cruel discipline and paranoia. The desperate fodder who survive are lavished with plunder. Heavy infantry and sorcerous artillary are their greatest strengths. Notable henchmen include:
*Athra, dwarf shieldmaiden and his right-hand woman; Narlis hates admitting he cares for her.
*Kolsc, dwarf marksman; mute and bibliophile.
*Toad, elemental mage, and slave-boy; bound to serve Narlis and bitterly sarcastic.

History
Narlis was born in Bleakwarren, a dwarven hold nestled in the Thunderblacks. It was not a happy place, known to trade in ore and slaves with neighboring Adela. He was a rowdy youth prone to brawls and wanderlust. As the second son of a second son he had little standing in his family's affairs, and left to found the Grimgut Company.

The Grimguts earn their pay exterminating Duhjari raiders in the Serha plains, namely to keep them from Zantaric and Essryni caravans. The Company's greatest feat was slaying the feathered dragon Hierocoatlyx whose life-giving rains, and judgmental nature, proved bothersome to the good people of Zantaric. It also had an enormous hoard of gemstone.



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@0bserver

Cathghar's Fall was a sad pile of stones in the Wester Highlands. From what Kai could piece together it was the castle of an old witch king. Then its crumbly walls housed a quaint hamlet, later reduced to a collection of rotting shacks. In the early morning, at least, it offered a scenic view of the rolling green hillsides and scrubby forest. Kai had signed onto an expedition with the Manticore Company to explore the old ruin. The Mage-Knight spent most of his time hauling supplies and breaking up rubble with a hammer... its hard to be taken seriously when you're a donkey-man. Kai wasn't in it for the money. He'd bought a map from a river pirate, who stole it from a hedge-witch, detailing the catacombs beneath the castle. It kept the donkey-man going as he toiled. Once the Manticores' wizard removed the spells sealing the tunnels (he scoffed at Kai's offer to help), there'd be a clear path to a hidden library. Within it, supposedly, was the Ouroboros of Hoarheim. It was supposed to grant wishes.

"I'll be taking a break. Lunch." Kai grunted to the wizard.

"Bet you're used to tea and fancy talk, ain't ya mule-boy? Before ya go that mead over there might be worth something. Its old. Best haul it up."

The mage-knight grumbled. He'd drop it off, double back, and find the the library...

***

Kai thanked the gods the catacombs had a floor of earth, rather than stone, so his hooves didn't echo. Otherwise the catacombs proved nightmarish. Tree-roots wormed their way down from the ceiling, indistinguishable in the torchlight from the legs of some giant cave spider. The rough-hewn walls were painted with daemonic hieroglyphs. One room housed a bone-filled pit. Another housed a white, bare tree with numerous cages and gibbets suspended from the branches. The donkey-man wished he had a free hand, between torch and map, to grip his sledgehammer.

It took almost an hour to reach the library, hidden behind the statue of a goat. It was a massive, circular chamber nearly two-stories tall and lined with musty old books. At the very center was a stone snake eating its tail, wrapped about a pedestal. The donkey-boy's heart was pounding as he approached. Finally.

@Eckhart_Von_Musel
@Wrathwyrm

(This thread is part of the Midnight Harvest event. Please post in the thread if you wish to join in late.)

Hylop was orange and purple. The sun hung low in the inky sky, and the hills were dotted with trees changing for autumn. The village was brimming with excitement. Lanterns were strung from roof to roof, and the paths were lined with squash-carvings of grinning beasts. If one looked close enough they might see bits of jewelry, glass figurines, and pouches of money stashed away in rain-barrels and beneath hay-bales. Tonight was the Midnight Harvest, and the children were herded toward the village green. Bigger children and veterans of this affair scampered ahead gleefully Smaller children, who'd never been changed before, clung to their brothers and sisters. Gaggles of self-conscious adolescents clung to the margins, feeling a bit old to join in the fun.

The nearest thing Hylop had to a temple was the Old Mother. It was a gnarled old oak with patchy leaves, encircled by three standing stones. No one could read what they said, but every year Duke Blackthorn would appear beneath its boughs. The wily old faun would sing his song, and every boy and girl in the village would twist into a hideous monster. To turn back they'd need to bring tribute...

***

Colby and his three sisters crossed the green together. His heart was aflutter with excitement but he tried not to show it, being a veteran of these events. He got to be a giant wolf last year. It was mostly fun...

"Do you think we'll be goblins this year? It was so much fun to ride on Colby!" said Marella.

"Except that he smelled like dog for a week." giggled Maeve.

"You shouldn't lie, Maeve. He always smells," Maddy smirked and poked him in the shoulder, prompting a sigh of exasperation.

This year he was going to ditch the girls and run with some old boys and get up to some real trouble. Surely Michelo would let him come along? Colby usually dallied to chat with the blacksmith's apprentice when made to buy horse-shoes. Michelo could use swords. And maybe, just maybe, he'd teach him some day! It wasn't magic but it was still cool. When the girls turned to giggle at some inside joke, Colby darted into the crowd. Michelo was off by himself on the edge of the green. The farm-boy sidled up beside the blacksmith's-boy, prodding him in the back. "Hiya Michelo! Um, were you going, uh, Harvesting with anyone tonight? Because I think I'm getting a bit old to be going with my sisters and all..." His eyes were wide and filled with hope.

QuoteThe southern reaches of Serendipity are blessed with fertile soil and bountiful harvests. But this, of course, comes at a price. When night falls during the height of autumn the fey of the Winter Court, lead by Duke Blackthorn, ride from village to village and transform children into horrible beasts. The now-monstrous boys and girls must gather sweet and pretty things to pay back the faeries. Those who succeed are restored come morning; those who fail will remain beasts forever. The Village of Hylop has grown used to the Midnight Harvest over the years. It's now a festival and right of passage. Townsfolk leave token offerings so every child may return safely. Of course, older and more adventurous children use their monstrous forms to make mischief, and raid neighboring farms...

With Halloween approaching I thought I'd be festive and run a small event. Its going to be set in a rustic village on the edge of Serendipity. It will revolve around a pack of children who have fallen prey to the curse, and decided to rampage through the countryside. Children ages six to sixteen will change part-way into monsters and gain strange powers, but will otherwise retain their personalities and former features. It would be clear to any onlooker they are not truly malicious. Conflict will arise as the kids raid rival villages, and more dutiful monster-children defend their homes. I'm debating whether or not to randomize who becomes what, or allow people choose what fits?

Adults typically refrain from the festivities and hide in-doors once night falls. An iron horse-shoe will prevent the cursed children from approaching a structure. Warding your entire property, however, is considered bad form as a child without tribute would be lost. That, and most adults in the village had their turn to sew destruction and horror. Ignorant travelers invariably get caught up in the mess. If you want to play a wizard whose apprentice has been turned, or a parent hunting after their kid, go right ahead. I ask that no demons, dragons, or gods be involved. This is a story about ordinary people in a fantastical situation.

Character Ideas

• Nobles from Arca are passing through Hylop. Much to their horror, their first born becomes a hideous troll. Worse yet, he needs to run around with country children to be put right.
• The sweet, dutiful daughter of the innkeeper becomes a fire-breathing dragon. She doesn't want to cause trouble... but... burning crops is a lot of fun!
• An outcast bully finds her conscience, and gets into some monster battles protecting a poor old man's orchard.
• An adolescent adventurer, far too old for all of this, becomes a pathetic goblin. He tries to reign in the little hellions, but he'll need them if he's to be changed back.
• If you have a character with reason to be traveling in Serendipity, feel free to jump in.

Enlisted Characters
Beryl Feyal
Colby mac Arryn
Michelo Malloy
"Little Gary"

I'm looking for 2-4 players to join in the event. You can sign up below. If you like the idea, and want to create off-shoot threads, you're more than welcome! Feel free to create a kid to join, or if you have any appropriate characters I'm sure they can be traveling the region. There will be no posting order and I intend for the event to move quickly.

Name Colby mac Arryn
Age 11
Sex Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 4'10"
Occupation Farm boy
Residence Hylop, a village in Ravensway

Physical Description
Colby is a skinny boy with freckled skin, a gap-toothed grin, and wavy red hair that needs cutting. His garb consists of patchy overalls, with a slingshot jutting from the pocket. He does not believe in shoes.

Personality
Colby is a dreamer, with a head full of big ideas that seldom pan out. He's friendly, chatty with strangers, and curious about the outside world.

Too many little sisters, too many goats to feed, and too many switchings from boorish grown-ups have made Colby just a little bit selfish. He's lazy and willing to cut corners when he can.

Magic/Abilities
Colby is extremely clever, though his only creative outlet is as a prankster. The boy has done great things with rope and buckets of manure. No one is better with a slingshot. At least no one in Hylop.

He wields an encyclopedic knowledge of local legends, and adventure serials.

Relationships
Braith mac Arryn, father, a stern farmer
Idris Eldergleam, mother, a midwife
Maddy nic Arryn, sister, 10
Maeve nic Arryn, sister, 8
Marella nic Arryn, sister, 7

History
Since he was young Colby has feasted on stories of adventure, swordplay, and magic. All of that sounds much better than feeding goats and watching his three little sisters. The farm boy has decided to become a wizard when he gets older. The only problem is he hasn't a lick of magic. He's just got to have some hidden magical power, that's going to awaken in a time of crisis. And it better awaken soon... his father wants him to start work as a stableboy.


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Name Blackthorn, Duke of Dawn and Dusk, Warden of Weal and Woe
Age Ancient
Sex Male
Species Faun
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'11"
Occupation Harvest god
Residence Southern Serendipity

Physical Description
Blackthorn is a satyr. From the waist up he appears a lithe, beautiful youth with a winning smile and rack of curved antlers. From the waist down he sports the legs of a reindeer, with mangy black fur and cloven hooves. Rust colored tattoos crisscross over his skin like thorny vines.

The faun's fingers appear to be gnarled branches.

Personality
The Duke of Blackthorn is playful, roguish, and charming. Strength, creativity, and ambition are cherished. The weak, the stubborn, and the unimaginative are fuel for the fire. Above all else the Duke is merciful, and more than willing to brighten dreary lives...

The Duke sees himself as an agent of both balance and change. Old things die, new things are born, and everything stays the same but is also different. He gleefully grants men their desires, so long as they pay the price. Gifts beget gifts, favors beget favors, and debts will always be repaid.

Magic/Abilities
Duke Blackthorn holds power over rot, corruption, and transformation. He can conjure fungoid spores to infest nearby organisms. The faun can reshape the infested to suit his whimsy, or digest them to regenerate. Sleeping with an iron horse-shoe can reverse a recent infection, at least until the next full moon. His minions are especially vulnerable to iron.

He is a good deal-maker. The best. Nobody makes a deal like him.

Relationships
Ewan ap Rhys once summoned Blackthorn...

History
Duke Blackthorn is a member of the Winter Court. He holds power over the night, the soil, and the dirty work necessary to make flowers bloom and children grow. His existence is to sew rot, corruption, and transformation. He has roamed the Draconi Forest for generations, and is well-known to farmers of Serendipity and Adela. Wise villages will give the Duke his due. Unwise villages are beset by plagues and monsters, and the survivors with riches and magic to reward their tenacity.


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@ZRYork

Cadghar's Point wasn't a town so much as it was an ever-changing collection of caravans nestled in the Wester Highlands. It offered a spot to camp, and safety from the odd troll or pack of bandits. And in the early morningit offered a scenic view of the rolling green hillsides and scrubby forests. Kai took a long drink from the water trough. Without a waterskin, or hands to hold one, you really had to drink when you could. He just hoped they'd reach Darken Vei by nightfall. It was embarrassing to return home as a donkey, and pulling the cart of a greedy peddler to boot. The actual work of pulling a cart wasn't that bad at least.

***

Some yards away a portly old man named Rugen, who adorned himself with multi-colored scarves and a pointy hat, was chatting with a bipedal spider of all things. Rugen was in something of a mess. He drunkenly wagered most of his stock (mostly dried herbs, bits of a brick-a-brack, and the occasional bit of jewelry) in a game of Fates the prior evening. The fat peddler lost, badly, to a nasty little magician. Rugen was beside himself when he met an odd traveller - a spider of all things - on its way to Darken Vei. Wasn't the talking donkey from up there? And so an idea began to form. "Kai's a strong enough beast. Don't rightly know his age but he's born firewood and crates of books just fine. Wouldn't be selling if I didn't need to. Bought him three months ago and I'm a might attached to my other donkeys. Fifty glints for him?" that was mostly a lie. Kai wasn't really his to sell, but spider just needed some packages carted a few days up the road. The boy would surely be clever enough to elude the thing once back home...

The Fae's Place was a tiny bar situated near the western gate. Judging by the thatched roof and sawdust on the floor it wasn't anything fancy, but the owner put love into it all the same. The misspelled names of house specials ("Shepard's Pie" "Arocks Soup", "Ora Crawfish") were scrawled on a chalkboard. Judging by the crowds of burly men and raucous laughter most of tonight's clientele were farmers and dockworkers after Sylmag's particularly hoppy lager.

Good thing it was crowded. Ewan was in a sour mood, fuming really, but had to stay calm and keep quiet. He ducked his way through a forest of towering farmers, and beneath the tray of a blue-haired waitress "Kia's c-- watch it runt!"

The ragged boy's eyes widened when he caught sight of a crooked door near the bar. That must be the wine cellar. Looking to his left, then his right, Ewan nudged the door open and ducked into narrow, rough-hewn staircase. What drink and vintage was it again? "The best brandy" - like they knew anything about alcohol - come to think of it he could've just snatched any bottle from upstairs and lied...

But this was actually kind of exciting. His heart was pounding! And what would really happen if he was caught?

Name Maergath
Age Old
Sex Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'10"
Occupation Magister of Soulshaping at Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science
Residence Wyrdwood Academy, Serendipity

Physical Description
Maergath is of average height with a solid frame, suggesting some athleticism for his age. The man's square jaw and gray eyes might have made him handsome in youth. Sadly, his skin is ashen and creased with scars and burns. He is bald. Judging from his limp, and perpetual grimace, more than a few aches and pains plague the wizard. Maergath garbs himself in a tattered, gray robe. Were it not for a blue and silver stole, signifying his position as magister, he would appear to be a vagabond.

Most notably, jagged shapes are inked into his forearms and chest in dark, ferrous pigments. Serenians and other fey beings near the wizard may feel discomfort.

An astute observer may notice Maergath's eyes are sometimes blue and sometimes gold.

Personality
Maergath is cruel, contrarian, and sardonic. He finds fault with everyone and everything in pursuit of impossible perfection. He expects nothing less from his pupils. Beneath his hatred and disappointment lies an endless well of tenacity and cunning.

Maergath is a fierce patriot, but despises the Serenian people for their whimsy and excess. Connlaoth will invade again, Adela will turn on them, and Arca's paunchy, limp-wristed nobles will beg for his golems.

If the wizard has a soft spot it is tall tales and fiction. He prefers the ramblings of sailors, drunks, and urchins to bards.

Magic/Abilities

Necromancy - Maergath is an expert on the soul, or more correctly, the spiritual animus which sustains life. He can bind soulstuff to living and non-living matter. This can create golems and undead monstrosities. He can also shape an existing soul, altering its personality and magic.

War Wizard - The wizard was a renown battle mage. He knows numerous wards and counterspells. At the very least he can twist hostile magic into a less dangerous form.

Ferrous Tattoos - Drip by drip Maergath has had ferrous pigments inked into his skin. These cause him immense pain. He is capable of using magic even in the presence of iron, but this comes at the cost of being joyless and insufferable.

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History
Maergath's history is murky. He is old and rumored to have extended his life through some necromancy. What is known is the wizard fought in the Three-Fold War as a mage-knight, where he was badly injured and scarred. It is said he threw himself into magical research after, and resorted to flesh-sculpting and other unseemly schools of magic. The wizard claims to have been the architect of madness inducing plagues, monstrous chimaeras, and other atrocities levied at the Connlaothian invaders. His name bares no titles, awards, or commendations for whatever part in the war (if any) he had. Most of his recorded life has been spent at the Wyrdword Academy of Arcane Science. His rise to magister was quick and quiet. Given his reputation for being unpleasant and disagreeable most are content to leave him to research.

At Wyrdword Maergath leads a secretive cabal known as the Broken Seal. Officially, they engineer magical arms and armor. Unofficially they create golems to guard against Connlaothian invasion; their methods bordering on necromancy.


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@Spicyspice @Magyar @CyclicalCycal @SilverLuna @Catalina

I need to get some important stuff done over the course of the next month. I usually try to get out responses within 2-3 days but I don't think I'll be able to keep up. Very sorry, things should get better in July.

@SilverLuna

Ewan's nose was buried in his map but the boy paused every few yards to watch his back, looking something like a frightened squirrel. Astoraea was supposed to be five days from Arca. The boy didn't account for it being in the middle of the old growth of the Draconi Forest. The trees here were so tall only a glimmer of sunlight filtered through. He was dirty and sweaty and the bugs were enormous. A giant serpent also made an appearance, forcing him to become a wolf. The last time he worked that spell he spent spent a week fighting the urge to piss on trees and chase squirrels.

The road to Astorea was a narrow, winding path marked by runes carved inconspicuously into root and trunk. There were also decoys, but that was to be expected, as elves did enjoy their seclusion. The boy found his way to a rope bridge connecting two petrified trees. There was a dark gorge below with no visible bottom. Surely some enormous dragon or lindwyrm or serpent lived there. With a gulp his shuffled across counting the steps, probing the mossy planks with his toes.

One...

Two...

Three...

And fifty two steps later Ewan reached the other side of the rope bridge. Beyond he caught sight of a white marble spire. It must be Astorea. Beyond the forest gave way to a clearing dotted with fields and orchards, with a grand palace at the river's edge. It was gorgeous, and strangely unguarded. Really though, were a bunch of elven rangers going to jump out and shoot a ragged little kid? Not likely. Ewan took a deep breath and walked forward with purpose.

Not many people ever got inside Astorea's library. But he was gonna. They had the only copy of Taelnir's Transfusion.

@blaccbeans

Kai had never been so glad to see Gawain's Fork. It was a cute little village nestled between two hills. It had a tavern and miles of wheat and barley. Really it was just a collection of tiny delapidated cottages, but the road was a lonely place, and Kai never had to travel alone before. Not that the young knight had much choice, of course, no one from home could know about the tail.

The boy sauntered lazily down the dirt road, stopping to return a shy smile with a peasant girl he thought was staring. Hopefully at his pretty face and lithe form, which his embroidered blue duster fit so well. He did love to preen. Soon enough the tavern came into view. "The Plowman's Paddock" - it summed up the town alright. Kai nudged the door open and approached the weatherbeaten barman. "Hi there!" he gave a cheery smile and climbed atop a stool. "I suppose I'll have..."

Well there was mead. One sort. It wasn't bad so Kai dropped a few golden coins on the counter, not really paying attention. Gods the stupid tail was itching now. "Hm. Don't suppose you've got an apothecary or hedge with or anything out here? Feeling a bit off.

"Not that its your mead anything! Just been walking a while in the sun is all."

So I've been thinking about combat in freeform roleplay this for a while.

It's a tricky thing because there are no mechanics to decide on victory. And while writing isn't competitive, people do have predetermined ideas about whether their character deserves to win or lose. This can lead to arguments or bad feelings: that a character's abilities are unfair, or that a bronze mace shouldn't penetrate steel plate, etc. And this really isn't where you want to go in a fun narrative game.

A good way to approach combat and crisis is not to think about victory and defeat or how your powers might trump someone else's. Look at how it can transform a character. Think about what whey will sacrifice to win. Health, wealth, friends, social standing, or even morality and ideals are all options here. Here's a crude example:

Quote1) Wendy the Warrior Princess is fighting Pete the Paladin. They trade blows to a stalemate. Wendy goes into a headlong charge to try and sunder his magic axe. She does. But she was injured and will have some NASTY SCARS and maybe a limp.

2) Pete is very vain. He doesn't want to risk injury and holds his ground with a dagger, hoping she will give up.

3) Wendy really wants Pete dead. But Pete has really heavy armor. Wendy decides to use her family sword to try and cut through. Pete is now injured, but the blade is ruined.

4) Pete is now scared. He remembers a questionable potion he bought from an Adelan alchemist. He drinks it and turns into a mutant-dragon-thing.

5) Wendy runs away, injured and without a magic sword. Pete lost his armor and weapon, and is now a mutant-dragon. He "won" because Wendy wasn't willing to risk anything else.

6) Pete's "victory" comes with, perhaps, heavier consequences than Wendy's retreat.

Anyway, this is just a different way to approach conflict. Hopefully it was a useful read!

@RooibosWithCake

The Jovial Sparrow.

Ewan squinted up at the freshly painted sign. What sort of adventuring group calls themselves sparrows? But beggars can't be choosers; two adventuring companies had already turned him and his stolen map away. The boy's stint as Lady Selwin's servant hadn't been pleasant, and he wanted to make the most of the treasure map he'd swiped. He walked inside.

The Jovial Sparrow had a sparse crowd, or at least it seemed that way, the entire building was enormous. Nothing high-class, which was good, as Ewan looked rather scruffy. Exotic weapons and the skulls of unusual monsters adorned the walls. The little sorcerer tip-toed up the bar and peered over it.

He cleared his throat, trying to sound formal, "Uh, hello? Who do I talk to about hiring some adventurers? Got a treasure map - I mean a position - for your sparrows.

"Also do you got a bed for the night?"