Magic is a peculiar thing. The special few who have learnt to wield it do so in a manner that draws wonder and suspicion in equal measure.
A studious mage in Lerona Mere pouring over scroll after scroll seeking knowledge with fervour. A Bordevarian waving a wand and speaking riddles to draw forward sorcery. An Andashi drawing runes into the sand, a Valleyfolk carving runes into their skin. And a Wealdsage drawing power from the very forest that seeks to consume them.
But misconceptions about the arcane are as bothersome as they are plenty. So often it is folk too mundane for magic who think that the answer to all of their problems lies in spells and enchantments. But far too often there are mages who cannot think past their teachings to find the logical conclusion.
It is important to not get too lost in the peculiar, lest we forget how to find our way home.
Work that Benefits the Greater Us, Not the Individual Me
The whims of the world impacts everyone. Some are impacted more heavily than others, but all bend and buckle beneath the pressures of a living existence. There is solace to be found though, in the people we love or the work we pursue. Sometimes there is peace. Sometimes there is grace, quiet and forgiving.
Other times, it just blows up in your face and you have to deal with the consequences.
These were the ruminating thoughts of the now distinctly deaf Vasari, one of the many Artisans working to bring Headmaster Metzler’s idea to life. It turns out, perhaps unsurprisingly, that testing the higher limits of a magically amplified whistle that is designed to produce blood-curdling shrieks is unhealthy for unprotected eardrums in an enclosed space.
Luckily, it would be a lesson that Vasari only had to learn once. Or, more accurately, would now be unable to learn again.
-=-=-=-
Are there any particular nuances one must make when calling out to a Divine Entity? Surely, each one is different in some way, and has their own preferences. Their own little traits, likes, dislikes, that sort of thing. It would be a purely boring existence to-
CRACK
The whip-snap sound of wood on wood broke the wandering journey of Nazmi’s mind. With a startled yelp, they would not have to look far to find the source as it happened directly on the desk next to theirs. Someone had just dropped a ruler, and in trying to save its fall instead slammed it at full force into their workstation. They were sheepishly apologising to all around them, which caused some much needed chuckles in the dusty corner-room of The School of Gifts.
Nazmi shook their head and smiled. It was appropriate that such a thunderous noise breaking the dead silence would be what sparked a return to task. Headmaster Rais had called on those present to assist in creating a Ceremony under The Thunderbolt once before, and it was good to be back to it, nearly a year later.
If a little startled for the trouble.
-=-=-=-
With orders clearly written, each Headmaster of the two Schools of Magic would set their people to task. Craft and Ceremony would be forged over the season, carrying with each a small manner of risk. The most minor would be simple paper cuts and bone-splinters, but the worst carried permanent deafness and spiritual suffering.
Still, the researchers of each School would take to their work like cats to fleeing mice. They loved the challenge. They loved the creation of something new. The risk was secondary to the reward of a job well accomplished, and for those who receive it the danger pay is nice too.
As the Summit approaches, and the last touches are put on each piece of work, a new Ceremony and a new Artisan Craft would once more be born into the world. Now, it simply remained to see them used for the benefit of all.
Game Information
The De Re School of Embers has created a new Expert Artisan Craft, named ‘Daphne’s Deathwhistle’.
The Headmaster of the De Re School of Embers was Wealdsage Lukas Metzler. The position is not up for election at the coming Summit.
The Andashi School of Gifts has created a new Arcadian Ceremony, named ‘Tempest’s Calling’.
The Headmaster of the Andashi School of Gifts was Captain Azime Rais. The position is not up for election at the coming summit.
Gently Rise and Softly Call
“Find your voice again, my friend, and soothe those you have left behind.”
As the chant finishes, the quiet figure sat in the centre of the room opens its eyes with a shuddering breath. The gathered family rush forwards to embrace the father, all too eager to hear the last words of a loved one that would have otherwise been lost to an empty room.
The mage attending them flips an ornate sand timer inscribed with filigree depicting an open book, its pages showing a mouthless face set into the outline of a coffin. Without a sound, or perhaps drowned out by the call of love and loss, they leave the room, closing the door
behind them.
~=~=~=~
A handful of janissaries and other mercenaries, tithing their time to the safety of the city, stand guard at either end of one of the twisting staircases of The Rise. Inside, a Magistrate looks over a body tucked behind a pile of crates. Its eyes are gaping sockets, its tongue is a bloody stump, and its pockets turned out; what was taken from them in life seemingly equally important to what they could give in death.
~=~=~=~
In the Plaza De Amigos, an aspiring mage grips a flyer in tears as they hold the body of a dog. Channelling grief and want and hope with every fibre of their being, they call upon all their strength. After a short pause, joyous barks fill the tent though they swiftly become worried, frantic whines as the beast realises it is wholly unable to move.
It is minutes later when an adult finally hears the wailing youth and the fearful dog and comes to investigate. Too inexperienced to control their magic, and too unfamiliar with a spell cast on instinct, the mage is unable to release hold of the spell intentionally. They can only cry and beg their best friend to move their legs again, not understanding why this has happened the way it did.
The adult is no mage, but there are many problems that can be solved with the swift application of steel.
~=~=~=~
In a sequestered laboratory in the School of Gifts, the body of a child rests upon a set of great brass scales. A mage channels their talents before the onlooking assistants, armed with quill and parchment.
The child scarcely has time to ask for some water before the unmoving scale is noted, the mage releases their hold on the spell, and they return to a lifeless corpse. Placed unceremoniously onto a heap in the corner, the scales are swiftly filled again from a second dwindling pile.
Game Information
Inspired by the decision by the Church that the Deadspeaker spell does not affect the soul, and the techniques and talents of the Headmaster Captain Azime, a group of students at the School of Gifts have come out in support of the spell and its usage, calling themselves The Weeping Remnant.
Across Obregon, flyers have been found depicting the symbol of The Weeping Remnant, offering people the chance to speak to those they have lost one last time.
The Andashi School of Gifts has introduced the Thanaturgy major, for those students who wish to study the applications and effects of the Deadspeaker spell. This has been added to the Learned Arcanist page.
Research into the spell requires corpses, and the citizens of Obregon are not wholly inclined to waste limited moments allowing experimentation. This has led to some researchers getting what they need in less than open ways.
While the number of deaths in Obregon has not notably increased, corpses that would have been attributed to natural causes or random muggings have increasingly been found mutilated.
There will be decisions for the Headmaster of the Andashi School of Gifts and the Senator of the Tribelands regarding the Thanaturgy major and The Weeping Remnant.
Game Design Note
The primary use of the Deadspeaker spell is to allow characters who missed the death of another player character the chance to have a moment of roleplay with that player before they move on.
Similar to the intent behind Terminal, Deadspeaker should be used for final moments of emotive roleplay rather than an extended last day. As such, the spell can only be cast once on any given deceased character. Notably, the character can see and speak but is unable to move their body unassisted in any way.
Due to the logistical difficulties involved in briefing the number of people required, Deadspeaker will never function when cast on a Rank & File NPC. Deadspeaker may be used on notable NPCs where a Storyteller has given consent to do so, and is available to assist during the scene.
The Glorious Wonders Arcane
In the bowels of the School of Gifts, a professor in brightly coloured robes claps their hands together, a hush spreading across the dozen or so students surrounding them.
“Alright everyone! We’re going to begin the warding process. Pay close attention now, especially to how the runes interact with the stonework. This may very well be on our exam.”
The mage turns, raising their hands and launching into a well-practiced chant. As the students watch, long threads of intricate light seem to crawl out of the mortar of the walls around them, snaking through the air before being pulled taut by some invisible force.
“Can anyone tell me what purpose this rune is serving?” The professor calls out, gesturing to a complex net of the glowing threads. Their eyes scan the group, before landing on a student near the back. “Marcela?”
“Uh…” A young mage in glasses stares at the tangle. “It’s a… mental warding rune? Preventing… domination and mind control?”
“Close!” says the professor, pulling the rune network closer with a flick of their wrist. “It is a ward against scrying. See the four points in the centre? Good deductive reasoning, though.”
With a final push outwards, the network of wards and runes surrounding the great vault door ripple, and fade from view. The professor turns to face their students once again. “Right! Now that you’ve all seen the warding magics in practice, I need a secured box from each of you by the end of the week. The one that takes me the longest to crack gets to miss the next test!”
~=~=~=~
In the Shardcircle, that strange immutable space-beyond-space, two archivists stand hunched over the Arcline. They scribble cramped calculations on densely covered sheets of parchment, adjusting the artefact’s various arms and gears as they work.
“Are we done, Rosalia?” The shorter of the pair whispers. “Nothing’s happened yet.”
“Patience, Firenze.” She whispers back. “Just a moment…”
The archivist leans in again, and adjusts one of the arms by a fraction of a hair. In an instant, the softly thrumming artefact comes to life, its core pulsing with a brilliant and ferocious light. The two archivists scurry backwards, shielding their eyes as the glare grows brighter still.
Braving a glance, the two archivists stare in awe as throughout the space, a thousand tiny beads of light as bright each as the midday sun begin to shine, illuminating every corner of the strange demiplane. Then, in a single instant, the lights push up and through the magical canopy above their heads, and the Shardcircle is plunged into its usual moody darkness once more.
Firenze turns to his fellow Archivist, their cheeks both tinged pink as if they had been standing in the Andashi sun for too long.
“Do you think that is what is meant to happen?”
~=~=~=~
On the outskirts of a small Haven, a pair of researchers stand on a doorstep, the sound of the heavy wooden door slamming still ringing in their ears. The Valleyer sighs, turning to lean heavily against the building. “Spheres damn it!”
“Language, Aedmund!” chides the Bordevarian. “I know it’s upsetting-like, but we can’t let this bring us down. It’s just a small setback.”
“While I admire your optimism, Baker, it’s been three weeks and we’ve found shit all about these ‘Sovereigns’ that they want us to find.” Aedmund pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m starting to think this whole thing has been a waste of time.”
“Pardon me…” an unknown voice calls out. Turning, the researchers see a young woman with a small covered basket standing by the treeline, staring at them intently.
“Pardon me,” the figure repeats. “But I couldn’t help overhearing…”
“Did you want to know about the Sovereigns?”
Game Information
As voted upon by all Heroic Magus of The Concord, the Passel Research to be undertaken is as follows:
Passel Research: The Passel topic, proposed by Leuthar Maus and signed by Bevalex al Bevan, Erken, Olivah Towenaar, Zenzi von Heimstad, Elke Sommerlind, Daffyd Gardener, Hildegard, and Connor Hedge, would be focused around “The History of The Sovereigns’ Influence on the Greenweald Baronies.”
During the Autumn Summit of 226, the following actions were taken by The Shardcircle:
Precipice Alignment: As voted upon by all Heroic Magus of The Concord, The Precipice would have its powers aligned to Panoply for the Season and coming Summit of Spring 226.
The Arcline (Enliviations): The Enliviated functions as chosen by The Archmage were the Precipice Alignment, and the Vault of The School of Gifts (1st Tier Secured).
The Arcline (Obliterations): The Archmage chose the Obliteration known as Starfall (1st Incantation), focused on Castle Artourious in the Crownlands.
There will be 7 Shards made available at the beginning of the coming Summit, an increased number once again thanks to the State of Emergency. The Arcline mana rates for exchange between Shards and Crystal Mana remains the same.
They Won’t See Me, But You Will
Twilight casts orange and violet hues across the skies of Andash as the sun begins to set. South of the True Wilds, untamed land becomes a stretch of desert known as The Crescent. Perhaps named because its view of the stars is unhindered for those who love to gaze, or perhaps because the leaves of its thorn scrub forests that spread throughout grow sickle-shaped leaves found nowhere else. Depending on the Clan you speak to, the stories shift like sand.
The further one dares to travel from the cultivated farmlands and protected civilisation centred around the wells dug alongside the Golden Road, the more the Crescent resembles its arcane and ancient past. Magus who journey far enough can expect to find a Leyline to claim as their own, so long as it is tended to regularly, takes only what they need, and concealed well enough that only they can retrace their steps to its hiding place.
But sometimes, well enough is not enough.
Deep in the desert lands of the Crescent, a seemingly normal cave mouth opens up into an unnaturally shaped cavern. Its formations inside were not of sand or stone, but deep blue crystal that shifted green in torchlight. This remarkable leyline would summon envy from even the most benevolent of mages.
Tonight, if there had been anyone there to bear witness, they would have seen nothing.
But they would have felt something.
A sudden lurch and lingering chill, like walking over a grave not yet dug.
But they would have smelt something.
An acrid stench somewhere between burning wildfire and fermented fruit.
But they would have heard something. A whisper, a screech, a call.
“…mage… Stallia…”
Game Information
The following Investment has been destroyed:
- Zarja Tal'Darev Del'Stallia
There will be further information for the Headmaster of the De Re School of Embers and the Headmaster of the Andashi School of Gifts.