Arcane magic defines and binds The Concord together. The will of mages is felt in all realms and beyond, to ignore it would be folly. Be it the power to craft new enchanted items, to discover the mysteries of the Spheres, or to rain arcane cataclysm down upon those that offend them, all are available to the mages of The Concord.
Now is a time of change and growth within The Shardcircle, with new powers, and potentialities available to them. Although perhaps all threats are returning to make good on past deals.
Mind Made Manifest
Muttering filled the room nearly as much as the smell of scorched wood and the sight of flame-washed stone. Mountebanks and Magi alike gathered together over their task, their project turned from research to object, reaching the final stages of completion but failing at the most important step. Deep within the experiment halls of The De Re School of Embers, a spark was slowly coming to life, yet stopping just short.
Quiet murmurs seemed deafened by the turning of pages and the scratching of ink, every table as full of people as the library’s shelves were full of books. Learned Arcanists and Priests together discussing how a combination of their paths could be made in The Spheres’ light, and brought to the benefit of their people. In the spires of The Andashi School of Gifts, a holy power was forming, yet remained ever so slightly out of reach.
Two tasks, two forms, two Schools. Yet as winter grasped Southern Esterra in its cold embrace, no results.
In The School of Embers, storage rooms would begin to fill with the broken and the failed, those objects that would not perform as required. In The School of Gifts, papers upon papers scribbled and scratched out would speak testament to difficulty and disagreement. The Season moved on, and time continued to pass, but it would not leave behind some of the best minds of The Concord. No, they would ensure it would not.
Each failure would not become a set back, but a stepping stone. Each step backward would be met with a burning passion to see one taken forward, but even then one would not be enough. Why take one step forward when you could take two, or five? In the name of progress, in the name of the Headmasters who trust in their people, and in the name of The Concord, there could be no giving up. It simply would not happen.
For months each School and its people would continue their work, as they always do, no matter how adversarial their task appears. They have succeeded in the past at near every request, and they would not stop now. Such perseverance, eventually, would pay off.
In that flame-scorched room, Headmaster Maximilien would hold the result of painstaking months of research and effort. A lantern, embers burning within, its cage hot to the touch but its shutters sealed close. With a short chant and a flair of magic, the shutters opened, and at first nothing appeared to happen, but in his heart he could see it. He could see the magical imprint of fire it would cause, knowing that no flame would ever actually be produced but that those within its arc would believe themselves set aflame and burning. They had succeeded.
Headmaster Azime Rais would read the simple page of results over and over, ensuring that there was no mistake. In simple terms, they had succeeded. Calling on The Thunderbolt, drawing on the divine power of The Sphere of Steel, they had made it possible. A Ceremony that would grant the decisiveness of action that The Thunderbolt calls for to a grand number of soldiers fighting for the same definitive cause. They would be chased by lightning, spurred by Thunderous Wings, exactly as Azime had asked.
The Schools of Magic, once again, found success in their path.
Game Information
The De Re School of Embers has created a new Masterwork Artisan craft, the ‘Lantern of Unseen Ember’.
The Headmaster of the De Re School of Embers was Maximilien Villeneuve. The position is not up for election at this summit.
The Andashi School of Gifts has created a new Arcadian Ceremony, ‘Thunderous Wings of Griffin’s Victory’
The Headmaster of the Andashi School of Gifts was Captain Azime Rais. The position is up for election at this summit.
Powers of the Past
The flower bloomed despite the hail around it.
A small thing, pale blue to match the ocean beside the cliff it grew against, sprouting from conditions set entirely against its existence. Here, in the midst of a winter storm, salt-sprayed and with no sun to allow its growth, the small thing bloomed. If one were to know it was there, they would see a frail stem, holding against the rockface with a tenacity born of something not its own, and they would see formed petals of pointed grace shaped by a power formed in ages past.
Such a small detail would grow, and live, and thrive, with not a soul to see it. But it would not grow alone. Others would appear along the rockface, rare and wild and entirely secret from the gaze of people. It would be a hidden beauty, one that would last that Season and no more. A pretty thing, a beautiful blue.
Across the coasts, rivers, forests and land of Bolsterlee, all kinds of wild growth would sprout despite the cold weather and time of year. A pulse of arcane energy would be the cause, its source well and known by the magi of The Concord. While none would be so candidly pretty as the flowers along that unnamed cliff wall along a single random stretch of coast, all would grow strong and true. This was the will of The Shardcircle, and this was the power granted to them by a powerful mind now dead and gone.
It would be a Farseer, drawn to the Weave that they could see, that would be the first to feel like something was coming. The first to feel that something was changing. The first to know that this empowered growth had change... something. They would not know what exactly, but they would know for sure that it was not a change in the lands of Bolsterlee. No, the change must be at the source.
-=-=-=-
Here, in this place, death was common.
The last living thing to cross the unseeable border of its territory was a scrawny hare. Starved, running from some other predator that instinctively knew better than to cross that one root, or that other shrub. The hare did not last long, as the influence it exuded brought it closer and closer to death with each step. Its rotting corpse, days later, would not be the first thing to sustain this Harbringer Stand. It would also, as fate would have it, not be the last.
The Winter wind that blew through Resinderholz, and particularly The Harbringer’s Nightmare would be biting cold, and powerful enough to tear root from earth. The number of pine and ash trees felled by the force of weather would not be uncommon for The Weald, but would be worrying for its denizens in its own right. Still, The Nightmare would not fall.
On one unknowable day, it simply stopped. It would have stopped eventually, as time passes and weather with it, but for all the guessing of the people of Resinderholz it should have taken at least another week or two. The gale, in all its primal force, would become a light gust. Then barely a breeze. The rain that was expected to follow it never did. The clouds threatened, but they did not release in a torrent their carried burden.
The weather had calmed. And that thing in The Nightmare, that abhorrent creation of wood and hatred, that thing that would take yet another life should it fall within its territory, knew the cause. It knew, inherently, that this was the work of an item of great power.
It knew, in its corrupted core, that The Arcline was now to change forever.
Game Information
The Arcline, under the hard work of Archmage Zarja Tal'Darev Del'Stalia and the rest of the magi of The Shardcircle, would be activated once more. Its powers were dormant for a time, unused for a short while, but at the last Summit it was once more infused with Crystal Mana and its powers directed. Yet, something in its magic felt different, changed. It would be revealed to all, very soon, how these changes manifest.
In particular, Bolsterlee was graced by The Arcline’s Empowerment of Wild Growth, while Resinderholz was graced by Becalmed Weather. Thanks to this, Leylines and Wildernesses in Bolsterlee will produce additional resources this Season, while Farms and Herbs in Resinderholz will also produce additional resources.
The Whispers in the Leyline, the Promises in the Dark
Raymond didn’t want to move. He felt he couldn’t move. It wouldn’t be proper, like his mother might slap the backs of his palms for committing a faux pas before the Coteria.
But there was no Coteria here. Just himself, Frederica, and the beast.
“Are you well, Herr Raymond?” Frederica asked absently. She hummed a Wealdish ditty as she swept gray dust into the pail at her feet. The beast stood over her, its long right claw poised above her neck, its left clutching a sword of whispers. Two hollow chasms bored into Raymond where eyes should have been. Its crepuscular maw opened and closed, savoring the pleasure of killing and the pain of being.
Raymond swallowed, trying to find words. Look out, Frederica, a beast has crawled from the vault to kill us both. Clear, useful, to the point. Or perhaps: IN THE LIGHT OF THE SPHERES WHAT IS THAT!? Certainly appropriate, though far less helpful.
He couldn’t manage even a gurgle. The beast twisted its claw, and Frederica’s head snapped sideways with a crackle like a hungry fire. A red seam opened along her neck, so far it had twisted. She slumped to the floor as the beast stepped over her.
“Aaaaaeeeemoooooonn,” it moaned, the sword sliding over Frederica’s corpse, stealing her whispers as it passed. “Aaaaarchmaaaage.”
Raymond’s words broke loose then, a stuttering spill of vowels. The beast rested its blade on his shoulder, its other hand curling lightly at his throat, almost like an old friend’s touch. One claw traced the augury brooch on his shoulder cape, the symbol that gave him leave to work in this arcane place.
“Aeeemon. Archmage.” Shorter this time, more final. Like a story ending. Behind the beast, the basalt vault collapsed, tumbling into rubble as its magic failed. Stones fell across Frederica’s corpse. Raymond felt bad for her, anything to not face the thing before him.
“N-not Aemon. Ra-Raymond.” His voice broke as his eyes fixed on Frederica’s still form.
The beast seized his jaw, dragging his gaze up into its voids.
“AAAAEEEMONN. AAARCHMAGE,” it thundered, as if he had brought the wrong ale. It shook the augury symbol at him like a receipt of purchase.
“N-no. Raymond. Augury’s assistant. Not AemonN. Not Archmage.” He forced the words out, thin defiance soured by the warmth running down his leg.
The smokey horror drooped, staring at the floor, dejected. Already it was fading, becoming more suggestion than flesh. Still, Raymond felt the vast claw pierce his mouth, ball into a fist too large for his gullet, and twist.
Then he felt nothing at all ever again.
“Aeeemonn. Archmaaaage,” the darkness moaned, stealing whispers from the smoke.
-
The Shardcircle, both as an organisation and as a place-between-places, predates The Concord. Such is the magical power of Esterra that there have always been cabals of magi, witches, and worse that have sought to grow their understandings of the arcane here. It is through the gifts and allegiance of The Concordian Shardcircle that The Concord has some of its greatest powers: the Waystone network that allows its heroes to strike across the land, the Precipice that draws the gaze of the Spheres, even the spell of fire is a creation of The Shardcircle.
In this history the Shardcircle has gone through many schisms and reformations. It appears that another such one of these reformations is upon us, although it appears far more bureaucratic than homicidal. More functional than political.
Over the Winter Season the Civil Service workers employed to facilitate the many functions of the Shardcircle have completed an overhaul and reexamination to The Shardcircles many systems. Perhaps least interesting (in comparison to the violent powers of The Arcline and miracles of the Precipice), the council has had its meetings, terms, and some of its entitled powers brought into better alignment with others in The Concord. A dream that it will better function as a cog in the clockwork machine of The Concord.
Perhaps more dramatically is the revelation that the Arcline and Precipice were both functioning incorrectly, producing sparse and dangerous effects. Thankfully the Civil Service is nothing if not quiet professionals and these overhauls have seen both the Precipice (that arcane gateway that not only joins Passage to The Shardcircle, but also draws the attention of The Divine Spheres) and the Arcline (the human-forged artifact that allows the Shardcircle to affect the mortal sphere with great magicks), brought into greater alignment.
Unfortunately, a series of arcane failures within the Vault system have robbed the Shardcircle of its ability to instantaneously transport items and phenomena too and from these vaults. With much chagrin, the Civil Service has organised transport oxen and enchanted storage to see whatever phenomena moved from Passage to the Schools in Obregon and Legend City.
What follows will hopefully be less of a ‘new dawn’ for the Shardcircle, and more so a refinement. As exciting as such things are.
Game Information
The Shardcircle has seen a large overhaul to its systems, titles, and meetings during this downtime. Many of these are bureaucratic changes and can be read in greater detail on the Shardcircle, Archmage, and Headmaster pages.
The Precipice, Arcline, and Vaults have all had their powers and costs overhauled.
The Archmage and Headmasters have had some powers trimmed and added, all are now two year titles.Current titleholders will serve out their current terms, with new elections being for the full two terms.
The civil servants working on the Arcline report that it will have 5 Shards available at the beginning of this Summit.
There will be decisions relating to disappearances and damages during this process for the Archmage.
All Vaults have been emptied and their contents given to their Headmasters.