Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Iliana, May 14, 2012.


    That seems to be our most popular Forum now a days! People looove Fantasy! Whether it's old-timey, new, modernish, or something fan based like a Harry Potter or an Avatar! It seems that we all don't like the idea of doing a simple realistic role play, so why not chunk some fire balls into that thang? >:3 Point is, magic gets people riled up! The auras, the arts, the pretty colors! It is one of the most fast-paced and well thought out genres that we have today, not excluding the other genres!

    Role plays tend to have a magical element to them whether we know so or not. Getting a sudden burst of power when we are down for the count? A bright light suddenly flashing and we are brought to a different world? Or maybe a weapon spawns in front of you in an array of greenish aura! No matter what the case is, its things like magic that pull at our sense! You can even have a chant or two, a spell, or some weird hocus pocus in your rp and it still makes for a wonderful picture!

    We just like using our imaginations!

    Your Job is to: Write a post while using some form of magic!

    Really get those imaginations in gear, guys! We know your brains EXPLODE magic, so go for it!
    You may pick the scenery, location, and add any other people in it as you wish! And remember: Length does not matter! Detail does!

    Lastly, and most importantly, Have fun with this! :D
  2. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    In the distant fields of Glorinthor, an ideal place for practicing spells

    "I remember the younger days." Alvatras said while gently rubbing his chin, taking a few moments to live in the past. "Back when the times were simpler, back when you could easily open a book and get what you needed" Alvatras lifted his palm up and began to wiggle his fingers lightly, conjuring a small ball of energy. His other hand overbearing the ball of energy as he began to expand it. "Yes, things were a lot simpler..But the times change along with the people." Chuckling softly before looking back at his apprentice, Samuel, who was fascinated by the ball of energy. Alvatras turned himself towards Samuel offering the ball.

    "But..What if I break it? Or worse cause something to happen?" How worried Samuel sounded. Being very hesitant about reaching out and taking hold of the ball wasn't something he trained for. Samuel was only a minor when it came to this sort of sorcery. He could barely make a fire with his index finger and his teacher was trusting him to hold this ball of..Of whatever type of magic it was?! But it seemed that Alvatras was insisting on it..Guess he knew that if he could barely handle it, than he wouldn't have offered it to him. Samuel took a deep breath and carefully took the ball from Alvatras. "Whoa..This" Not being able to really describe how incredible it felt.

    "Now, now..You don't need to tell me..I was in your shoes once, Samuel...My mentor did the same with me. Crafted such a spectacle and I stood there baffling incoherent words, when really I couldn't describe how it felt." It was just another memory in his bank, even though Alvatras wasn't that old, he was just a more experienced in the years. No, he wasn't a mage, or a sorcerer..No, Alvatras taught himself how to perform magic just by reading and never had any help from anybody else. Eventually over time, his bending of magics became a treat and a defense. And now many students have come to him to learn the ways of how he trained and mentally prepared for the things he will show.

    "Pay close attention." Alvatras closing his eyes and holding his open hands out in front of him. The concentration and amount of focusing that he had was a true sight, his clothes began to ripple and wave, followed by his hair and necklace. Slowly moving his right arm back,his eyes still closed as all he could picture was this spell going off right. As slow as it started it had a faster ending, Alvatras stepped forward pushing his right arm in front of him, his left hand bracing the right arm. Out from his palm came an arcane sphere that floated into the air with grace...Only to explode with such force once it rose high enough..Luckily Alvatras aimed it up in the air, had it been pointed at an enemy it would've been an arcane disaster, creating a large crater in the ground. The attack left him exhausted and took a few moments to regain his composure.

    Samuel stood in awe...He was going to eventually learn that? That was just spectacular! Samuel almost dropped the ball he was so hyped about it! He walked over to his mentor and handed the ball back. "You're going to teach me that?.." Only to get a quick nod and smile from his mentor.

    "You're going to learn a bunch of things, my boy..Many things that will expand your mind as well as develop it to respond quickly in the course of action, memory, and mental endurance. To learn these things..You must be prepared..Get plenty of sleep and follow my words are if your life depended on it.." Alvatras took the ball and threw it in the air. Shortly, exploding into a hundred arcane bits that were harmless but equal to the common firework display. "Are you ready, Samuel?..Are you ready to let your mind free?"

    Samuel took a few moments to take all of that in...Was he ready? Could he do it?. "Yes..I'm ready."
  3. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    This was a very important day, that much was self evident. I stood in the center of the Senate Building, but instead of it simply being full only of the stuffy politicians, it held the Emperor of Agasaria, the King of Tarvanna, the Queen of Desera, the King of Jerusai, the High Priest Artemis, and numerous other foreign dignitaries. And yet, here I was, a lowly farmer, about to perform a spell that had not been seen is over three millennium. Most people, if the head Diplomat's words could be trusted, had even forgotten its existence entirely. That was good news, though, that meant no one knew what it was suppose to look like. I walked out to the very center, and looked Kilvan Ateri, the Agasarian Emperor, my emperor, directly in the eye. "My Lord and Protector, I come before you and the Senate assembled to offer myself up to your judgement. I know that if I am deemed worthy, I shall become an Imperial Mage of Agasaria, and should I fail, I shall get nothing. I place my fate into your kind hands." I said, and knelled, my right hand touching the ground in front of me. I then stood, found the center, and looked up at the foreign dignitaries who no other Imperial Mage had to have watch. I sighed, and took a horse-riding stance.

    I took in a deep breath several times, clearing my mind and seeing the white string, my connection to magic, the universe, and to God, and mentally took hold of it. I felt at peace, and ready to perform. I shot my hands into the air, straight up, and began uttering the chant that had come to me in a dream many months ago. "By the Father's hand and the hand of justice and order! I call upon the ancient powers of light and righteousness!" I began, to see the yellow ring whip itself into existence above my hands like a flame. So far so good, I said mentally, and then proceeded on with the spell. "Three sets of wings, one to fly, one to shield the eyes, one to shield the feet! Grant me this, oh Almighty One!" I called, and smiled inwardly as the circle shattered into, quite literally, millions of pieces, and then connected themselves on my back, three sets, as demanded, two five feet ones at the lower back, two twelve foot ones in the middle, and two three foot ones at the upper back between the shoulders. This was the hard part. I mentally pictured a bird in flight, the gentle flapping of the wings, and slowly, ever so slowly, I drifted up with slowly flapping wings, and opened my eyes. I called out the final words of the spell, and extended my arm, palm open, to a spot on the ground. "Go forth, powers of Light! Smite that which is evil! Cleanse that which is wicked! And help those who need it most desperately!" I called, and the upper and lower wings shimmered a bright silver, and shot off in four spiral tornadoes, and launched outwards, causing lords and kings to duck, and then all congregated on the spot I had indicated, striking with a flash of silver light and a sheeking sound, that had some sort of magical chime sound to it. As it finished, I drifted back to the ground, the wings remaining, and stood, faceing the Emperor. He stood, and clapped lightly. "Welcome to the Imperials." was all he said, but with a beaming smile. I bowed, matching his smile, but no one could see it.
  4. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    ​Rykozai charged up a fireball in his right hand and shot it at a tree to his left. His master stood arms folded and watched his pupil with a smile. Rykozai had been slowly improving and Master Suai could see it. Soon, his pupil would master the magic arts of the ancients. The secret knowledge was passed down from pupil to disciple for over one-hundred years. Now, in the present, modern day world of today, there was another rising prospect. The prophecy stated that a boy who bears the Mark of Zolia, would be the chosen magician to save the land Yuriai.

    Master Suai caught hint of lingering magicians hiding just off the North of the castle, hidden within some bushes. Suai saw it as a perfect opportunity to test out young Ryko's power. He ordered him to continue training and Rykozai did as he was told. The enemy magician smirked as they watched the master leave, unknowing that their position had been compromised. Suai only smiled, as he headed back inside the castle and closed the doors tightly. Meanwhile, on the training grounds, Ryokazai was hard at work. He held both palms upward, curled fingers. Ice manifested in his left, while lightning formed in the other.

    "I will get stronger! Just you wait Master Suai! I'll make you proud!" Seeing as the master was no where in sight now, the magicians reveled themselves. They surrounded Rykozai and chuckled menacingly at him. He looked around, and found himself surrounded by six magicians in blue robes and hoods. That was just his luck. He was only in training and he was already being attacked by enemies, ones in which he had no idea who they were. He went into thought about what they were after, lowering his hands and letting his guard down. That was a fatal mistake on his part. The moment that he had let his guard down, the enemy magicians attacked. There was an array of fire, ice, rocks, hail, twisters and daggers flying towards them. He gasped, caught off by the sudden attacks. He had to act and fast.

    Rykozai closed his eyes and began to chant. "By the heavens that guide us, emitting it gentle light to protect us. I call forth the protect that of the ancients and mystics! BARRIER!" A barrier of silver appeared around Rykozai and The attacks hit the barrier and bounced off of it. The barrier defended off the attacks, but it broke in the process, under the power of the attacks. He looked around him once more and tried to catch his breath a bit. Casting a spell like that without proper training was stressful on the body for him. That was way too close for comfort. Just what the hell do these guys want with me. Its not like I did anything to them.

    He stood firmly, as he caught his second wind. The magicians prepared for their second attack and he once again went into thought.There is one skill that can help me out and take these guys out, but it will take some time to cast. I just hope that it doesn't kill me in the process. Lend me your strength, Master Suai.
    Rykozai raised his left hand and pointed his index finger up to the sky. A beam of light shot upward and then spread in a flash of bright light. The magicians shielded their eyes and he raised his hands in the air and took a deep breath. "Here we go!"

    His master stood in the shadows and watched as Rykozai began to use his skill. He was interested to see if he could handle it or not. By casting that skill, it would prove the prophecy of generations pass true. He folded his arms and waited to see what his pupil would do. Ryokozai could feel the power flowing through him. Something that he had never experienced before. It was a truly unique feeling to him. It was as if the power spoke to him and he could channel it perfectly. He began to chant the spell, hoping that it would work.

    "By the power of the the divine goddess, I call upon your blessings! Give me the strength to vanquish my enemies and rid this land of the darkness! This ends now!" An array of fire began to form and the sky blackened above his head as he finished the spell off with, "Indignation!" He opened his eyes as he spoke and the fire rained down from the sky onto the magicians and began to burn them to a crisp. Master Suai's eyes opened in surprise. "He is truly the one, that will save us all from darkness once more. Rykozai put his arms down and slouched over, breathing heavily, as his arms hung in front of him. He looked around to see if the magicians were still there.

    All that was left were ashes. "I-I did it, Master Suai..." He said tiredly. The skill had taken all his strength and he closed his eyes as he fell forward. Before he hit the ground, he was caught by someone. He looked up to see Master Suai holding him. He smiled at him and Suai smiled back. "I am very proud of you Rykozai." Master Suai said with a smile. Rykozai could do nothing more than smile, as he passed out into sleep. Suai picked him up in his arms and carried him back inside the castle. It was time to teach his pupil the true magic arts of the ancients.
  5. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    The orange, sulfur smelling glob of liquid fire splashed onto the wall - where my head was a second ago. I would be a charred skeleton by now, had I not ducked at the very last moment. Liquid fire was troublesome; it couldn't be put out by water, since the original idea of water burning fire came from this realm (don't believe what science tells you about the water evaporating immediately and the steam displacing the oxygen in the air!) and liquid fire having not come from this realm, was not bound to the rules of its reality. Liquid fire stuck to your skin and it never diminished, only grew. It was said that a single drop of it could burn right down to the bone.

    I wasn't about to try that out.

    The ifrit, a fire golem lumbered towards me, unrelentless in its onslaught. Normally, I could take anyone of these but the sorcerer who summoned it made a contract with the wrong demon and that demon eventually possessed him through some loophole in the contract. For all the man's shortcomings in the field of proofreading, he was a talented summoner. So .. Guess what happens when you put a powerful demon, albeit acting through a mortal vessel in a room full of other dangerous creatures, bound in summoning circles?

    The demon kind of had some fun with them and gave each of them a demonic taint .. Then set them loose.

    Now I had to stop them, or the city was doomed.

    I was forced to duck once again as another stream of liquid fire flew at me, and a few droplets of it caught on to the end of my leather longcoat. The spells bound within it immediately took effect, a blue aura soon covering the material of the coat and it streamed to coalesce over the fire, seemingly eating it up.

    Interesting ..

    If life was a comic book, a huge, 1000000000 megasuperdupergazilion watt light bulb would be shining over my head right now.

    I held my hand out before me, the blue-white blade of Excalibur (yes, yes, that Excalibur) glowing with a fiery incandescence as I growled a phrase of arcane words. The effect was immediate. Four orbs of white light winked into existence around my body and they marked out a boundary, a transparent bubble forming over my body that protected me from any damage. It wasn't something I could hold for very long, not against something as powerful as Hellion magic infused liquid fire but it would do for what I had in mind.

    Instead of running away from the ifrit-on-steroids, I sprinted at it instead. I hurled Excalibur at it, the sword passing through its chest. It looked like it did no damage, but I knew otherwise; Excalibur was one of the only weapons in this world that could damage such dark creatures. It cut away not only at the mortal shell, but also at their essence as well. The monster let out an otherworldly scream at me, and I could hear glass shattering everywhere, throwing deadly shrapnel at me. My shield rippled as it took the brunt of this scream, and just as I reached the ifrit I pulled off my coat and ..

    Smothered it.

    Upon touching the liquid fire, the coat came alive. The blue aura that had formed when the first drops of liquid fire touched it returned, only at a greater level than before. If the spells I've bound within this stupid piece of leather doesn't hold out, I'm not about to see the next sunrise. The blue aura swarmed out of the cloak like water rushing through a broken dam, surrounding the fire even as it fought back, coiling and snapping like a cobra.

    The next few seconds felt like an eternity.

    The defensive spells of the coat were as unrelenting in its attack of the fire, just as how the fire was unrelenting in its attack of the magic, but ultimately both of them ran their course and went out. Together.

    I breathed a sigh of relief, tossing aside the charred remains of my coat. Dear Coat, you shall be missed, but thanks for saving my hide (get it?).

    Picking up Excalibur, who had fallen a few metres after passing through the ifrit, my eyes widened in surprise as I felt a sudden ominous feeling pass over me, making me choke on my own saliva.

    I whirled around, to see the possessed summoner sneering at me from about twenty feet away - I did not even notice him .. Until now. Was it toying with me? I couldn't run, not with how tired I am from the engagement with the ifrit. No amount of exercise could help you keep up with the strains of combat.

    "Not bad, wizard. So many of my .. Pets, you've managed to defeat. But no matter, no matter. Once I'm done with you, I will show this town true terror .. Not even the angels will b-"

    The man's voice was cut off by a loud gunshot, as a hole suddenly appeared in the center of his forehead. The only sign of him registering it was the look of surprise in his eyes, before he toppled backwards. It's funny how so many magic users get so arrogant in their own power, they forget to guard against attacks of a non-magical nature. I was sure that if I had tried to utter a curse, or a spell, it would have been countered and followed by swift retaliation but I knew that he didn't expect a gunshot. Not many did.

    I guess that kept me alive, these days. I learnt magic at a later age, and I learnt it in the hard school of run-and-fight-for-your-life. I wasn't the strongest wizard around by far but I knew my own mortal limitations. Chivalry is dead. There is no more use for honor. I learnt that a long time ago. History was written by the victor.

    The loser? The dead don't speak.

    Well .. Sometimes they do, but it wasn't meant to be taken literally!

    A translucent mist emerged from the body of the summoner. The demon's essence, trying to escape so that it could find another vessel and live to fight another day.

    None of that.

    Excalibur shone in the moonlight as it cut swiftly through the gas, and the gas suddenly stopped in midair. Spots of it cleared to form a face screaming silently, frozen in agony before it vanished. Forever.

    Coldly, I looked down at the body of the summoner and I snarled a single word, before fires consumed it and left no trace of it behind.

    I walked away, sword in my right hand and gun in the other.

    Name's XC, freelance wizard for hire. Willing to perform at weddings, parties and all that. Exorcisms, tracking, geomancy - anything else, just ask. Rates change from time to time.


    And protector of this town. This is my town.

    You don't fuck with my town.
  6. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    Bricana Wynn .:. Necromancer

    Bricana carefully unlaced the satchel’s tie from around her waste, rubbing the light pink indentation marks on her hips made from the repetitive stride of her horse. She watched tiredly as the others began to prepare the camp. She had more pressing things to attend to. She sank to her knees inconspicuously, rummaging thoughtfully through her pack, procuring a small woven pouch with silver drawstrings.

    After retreating several paces into the damp darkness, leaving the dim hum of her group barely audible, she pulled the dainty pouch open with her slender fingers. The first instrument she procured was an odd-shaped rock, filed to a rough point at one end. Dragging the stone through the moist soil she created a large circle, nearly as wide as she was tall. She set the tool down and reached for her sack once more, this time taking out two small bottles and a sprig of dried leaves.

    Starting at the top curve, she drew a marking inter-crossing with the large circle and let three tears of snake venom drop from the small bottle to the rune with a hiss. She moved a few feet down, drawing another rune, and sprinkled it with salt. Carefully drawing a straight line between the two, she continued the lines upwards until they came to a point, creating a triangle. Another rune was placed on this cross-section and the hairs on her neck began to elevate. So… she had captured some attention from the other side. Taking the dry sprig into her hand she crumbled the dried amaranth buds, letting them dust over the third rune.

    A surge of electricity coursed through her body. It had been quite some time since she’d felt these powers awaken. Carefully placing the bottles back inside the pouch she pulled out an ornately carved dagger. Its silver blade, only a few inches long, glimmered in the moonlight. She wrapped her lithe fingers carefully around it, pulling it gracefully across the palm of her hand. She concentrated on her breathing as the tension and release of skin dared to quicken her pulse. Squeezing the newly opened flesh, she drained thick drops of blood into the outline of the triangle, the liquid warming the soil. As the triangle was complete, she began to whisper:

    Goddess of phantoms, of shadows play
    Whose body divides the sun lit days,
    Let thy prisoners rise from the grave
    Give unto me a lidless slave,
    And into my control a soul be bound
    Let thine dark wisdom soon be found.

    A rumbling growl swept from the inner sanctum of the forest, gusting across her face. She said the incantation louder, her body pressing against an unseen wind carrying the blood, still dripping from her hand, in a horizontal fashion.

    As she finished the incantation a second time, a bright light flashed with a blue aura, silencing the wind immediately, sending the very atomic structure of the atmosphere around her into an unstable condition. Pebbles coasted through the air, defying all laws of physics. Her hair floated away from her face, being swirled by unheard waves. She was here. Crossing through the veil of the spirits, neither of this world nor of the next to come.

    Sorrowful moans and lost cries permeated wistfully through the odd protection of her circle. Washed out faces of the dead smeared around her. Clenching her teeth together tightly, she repeated,
    “Let thy prisoners rise from the grave. Give unto me a lidless slave.” The harmonics of her strained voice commanding even more attention in this realm. The torment of cries and streaked faces stopped.

    All was silent for a moment.

    A white shape began to flicker before her, a deep wail emanating from its core. As the spirit zig-zagged closer, shoulders heaving with distress, the form of a young girl was quite discernible.
  7. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    And there Aria sat, trapped in a cage. She was definitely not the only one, for the angered howls and growls of other creatures intensified her agitation. She had quite a good idea where these huntsmen were taking her as well. Off to the queen they were, most likely to be fed to her beasts or even worse, have their life forces sucked off to keep her forever young. Unicorns, lions and even elves shook the bars surrounding them in vain. But no, this was not her end.

    A few deep breaths and she faded away. As insignificant as a speck of dust, she silently wafted through the holding cell of the air ship, her body now merely a free-form gale of wind. A chill filled up the room before she gathered herself near a window, green-tinted tendrils of magic converging at a single point. Their saturated color faded, transforming into a ragged dress on her narrow figure.

    She again became the air, light green tendrils of wind spiraling out from her hands as the windows shattered open. But she was not home free, yet. The guards charged forth, wildly swinging their spears and swords in her direction and trying to control the astonished and empowered prisoners. Not a moment too soon she leaped up, the gale from outside catching her light frame and dragging her out of the air ship. But no, she had not thought of this.

    Oh no! Her descent came quickly, falling through the sky in a mad hurtle toward the blazing sand of the Queen’s Desert below. The poor sylph had never learned how to fly before the huntsmen captured her. Ahhhh! She felt like she was already dead, a poor bird that had fallen from the nest, waiting for the ground’s vile beasts to tear it apart. Crap, what did Mom say about flying . . . oh, how did it go?

    Soon the ground appeared much closer, the air ship now a distant dot. Volari ê . . . Five thousand feet left ‘til she crashed. Volari ê . . . her distance from her earthly death was plummeting. Volari ê . . . libertà! Emerald she flashed, arms outstretched. Libertà’na teneu! She swooped up from a near crash-landing into a sea of sand, shooting upward as her dress and arms gave way to verdant ribbons of magic.

    Sailing through the sky, the ribbons making up her body twirled and curled back into a humanoid form, her arms now immense wings the size of a griffin’s.
    Now to just get back to the others so they know I’m safe.

    Notes: Volari ê libertà. (Made-up language for "Flying is freedom")
    Libertà'na teneu (I'm free!)
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  8. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    OOC: Uh... sorry. I think I got a little carried away. >.> This is a re-written second draft excerpt from my novel. Sorry about the length.

    ear was an excellent motivator, he thought to himself as Berin scuttled about like a cockroach in sudden light. The thought of his master's wrath nipped at the submissive man's heels like the lashes of an invisible whip. As soon as Berin finished with the preparations, he would be rid of this vile, pathetic excuse for a body; a frail, delicate frame unsuited to hold his power. Already it was falling apart, withering into dust. His face sagged, appeared sallow; he, who had once been so mighty that the all the nations, even the Gods themselves trembled before him. He held up his hand to the moonlight; soon, he would crush this world and their pathetic gods into dust -- once the moon hit its epoch and his slave had finished preparing the ritual. A loud clatter brought him out of his reverie and onto his feet. Berin had dropped his athame into the empty clay pot he had just set down. "Fool!" he hissed, crossing over to the whimpering man in three steps and striking him across the face. With a yelp, Berin crashed into the metal candle stand, clutching a red cheek as tears poured from his eyes. Pitiful. The master looked at him with utter contempt before turning his back on the maggot of a man and resuming his watch upon the stone seat.

    Berin moved around the forest clearing more cautiously, his beady, watery grey eyes darting back and forth between his task and his master. Despite his terror and uncertainty, the necromancer moved with a nervous excitement in anticipation of what was to come. Of course he did. The Taidran race had always been easy to manipulate, and Berin was no exception. It had been simple; when Berin was whimpering on the ground, pissing himself in fright, all he had to do was whisper soothing words, promises of power and glory, and Berin surrendered to his will. The decrepit man laughed, a high, reedy sound that caused his servant to flinch, nearly dropping the herbs he carried. You could still trust a Taidran to think of only themselves and their success, even in this unfamiliar day and age.

    It had been eons since he had been imprisoned, a punishment the Gods deemed "fitting" for his crimes. He snorted with derision. The Gods. They were hypocrites, the lot of them. Always had been. No matter what they told their worshipers, no matter what they told themselves, they were just as bad -- if not worse -- than he. For millennia, they had sealed him away, his prison far beyond the sight of all, both mortal and immortal. It was the Void: a black, endless expanse of nothing, where no light of any kind ever shone. Demons and other such pitiless embodiments of the blackness in peoples' hearts dwelt here, banished into a fathomless domain of wretchedness. There were accidents, of course. Hapless mages seeking to tap into some hidden power they read about in forgotten texts and legends almost as old as the world itself, wearing away at the barrier between the Void and the mortal realm with each misguided attempt.

    He felt the barrier weakening, the erosion of the spells that kept him locked away. When Berin summoned him, the barrier had been weakening for at least a century. He had been ripped from the Void, in part, a ghostly visage with little substance. The summoning itself was a curious sensation; no one had dared before -- whether through lack of knowledge or through fear. Berin, the fool he was, not only misspoke the spell to conjure a minor demon to him, but had used too much of a spell component that allowed for a more powerful gateway between realms. It was still too weak pull his whole self from the Void, but it was strong enough to separate him from his body. It was a tug, soft at first, then stronger; there was a noise like the ripping of cloth and he found himself before a cowering mage, simultaneously 'seeing' the Void and the mortal realm. Not that the Void had much to offer aesthetically.

    But Berin had become problematic as of late. Not only was he a poor student of the arcane arts, but he had a weak mind and an even weaker stomach. The first virgin sacrifice -- the one that granted him this pathetic body -- was enough to cause Berin to attempt to banish his master back into the Void, only to realise with horror that it was impossible. He remembered smiling at Berin, feeling almost sorry for the man.


    The contract is binding, he had reminded the mage. Until your death or mine. But Berin made no attempts on his life, perhaps the wisest decision he had ever made.

    A scratching sound brought his attention back to the present. Berin had almost finished with the preparations; about time, the master thought in annoyance, glancing at the moon. Any longer, and they would have had to wait another cycle. A critical eye examined the mage's work. The candle stand had been righted, the large black candle lit. In a circle on the ground, as wide as a man stretched out, were smaller, red candles, all lit from the flame of the first. Berin was drawing an insignia in the dirt, muttering a complex 'spell' in an ancient tongue as he did so. He had given the words to Berin, of course; it was laughable to think that Berin understood his actions. It was a focusing tool, meant to concentrate all one's power into an expenditure of magic. The world had twisted it, made the words necessary. Because of this, they would never become true masters of the art.

    "M-my lord?" Berin's stuttering grated on his nerves. "I don't understand; what is this ritual? I have never heard of it." He stood once more from his seat, crossing the clearing and stopping at the edge of the circle drawn in the dirt. Berin flinched at his approach. The decrepit-bodied 'man' laughed at his slave's discomfort.

    "This ritual will bring my complete self back into this realm." He gestured to his body. "This ... thing cannot hold my power. You do want that power, don't you?" The Taidran nodded eagerly, any pretence of humility gone. Despicable. Utterly predictable. Easy.

    "The spell is an ancient one," he lied. The lines were powerless, cobbled together from an ancient form of the Drith tongue; the rough translation was, come forth from the shadows, your servant calls you. "Eradicated from all texts and legends of the world when the Gods wrongfully imprisoned me. But no matter!" He pointed a shrivelled finger to the moon. "The time has come. Begin the ritual!"

    Berin nodded mutely, stumbling to the centre of the circle, taking care to lift his robes so as not to rub out the drawn lines. "B-born of hellfire, ash, and p-pain," the servant stuttered, sprinkling the ashes of the virgin sacrifices on the ground. Necromancy at its finest, the master thought, feeling a tug on the part of himself still imprisoned. The words were useless, but the sacrifice of innocent lives never were. "Cloaked in shadow, your time is now. B-blood has been spilt in your name." Berin grabbed ahold of his athame, slicing open the palm of his left hand. Blood dripped into the dirt, darkening the soil to black.

    A low rumbling could be heard in the distance. Perfect, he thought, watching Berin's eyes go wide. A coincidence that worked in his favour. "Continue!" he urged him. Berin obliged.

    "Sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim; sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim; sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim; sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim!" The wind howled, nearly drowning out the words. Berin summoned fire to his fingertips, lighting the circle ablaze. "Sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim!" He could feel Berin's power, the part of himself in the Void, as it ripped apart an already frayed barrier. The false spell clearly allowed even a mediocre mage enough focus for a feat so tremendous. Inside the Void, he began to feed Berin his power, allowing it to ebb through the tear in the planes and through to his slave.

    Rain began to fall into the heavens in a furious torrent. He couldn't see five paces in front of him, but Berin's voice carried in the wind. "Sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim; sayan seville, karun fatahl koradas sün sevrim." Lightning cracked, washing everything out in a blaze of light. "SAYAN SEVILLE, KARUN FATAHL KORADAS SÜN SEVRIM!" With Berin's final shout, the master smiled as his body died.

    So mote it be.

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  9. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    My fingers shook as I brushed through the crowd, not looking at particular faces or people. Everything shifted around me, constantly, never stopping for more than a few seconds. A giant platform loomed ahead of me, a pile of wood heaped up in a mess, with everyone staring towards it. Some sort of staircase leaned against one side, and guards in over-sized uniforms had to hold it in place, tilting at a slight 10 degree angle as I neared the top.
    "Mia. A pleasure, as always." My old mentor greeted her, his voice as warm as I remembered. What use is warmth in a world as cold as this? A man was to the left of me, sitting on a makeshift throne and gazing over his people.
    "Bring me the girl." He instructed, his voice monotone and harsh.
    My old mentor bowed at once. "Yes, my lord."
    I was taken by the wrists and brought to my knees beside the man.
    "I hear you are the local witch." He paused to laugh, a lifeless laugh, full of death and suffering. "If so, then select out the one I wish for." No more was said.
    "My lord, I-"
    "You will find her hiding something. A terrible secret. Go, look." He dismissed me, leaving me to work my magic.

    I magnified my voice, building up the magic to throw it to the very back.
    "Where secrets are kept,
    so they will be found,
    never laid to rest."
    Every person in the crowd was illuminated with an aura, different colours reflecting their moods.
    "Bring me the one,
    one person only,
    only to seek justice,
    justice to be done."
    She felt a tugging towards the girl, a short female with dark hair and fair skin.
    "Bring me that girl." I instructed the guards. "EAAB, 1523."

    They caught her, bound her and brought her forwards. I began to prepare, blocking her mental blows. She was quiet, but intelligent and reckless. Perhaps, had she hidden herself properly, she would never have been found. Her scream pierced my ears but did not stop me. I would be done with her soon.
    "I strip you of your powers," I began, my voice ringing. "This power goes to His Lordship, the Almighty. I leave you with a body containing only Mortalism." Pink, purple, red, blue. The sparks flashed in too many colours to list. A fog engulfed her, and I sent the power to my chains. They broke, snapping in half and freeing my hands. At the same moment she collapsed, the guards holding her in place.
    "Release her!" The power had absorbed into me, filling my blood with the magic that had been taken from me in such a way so many years ago. The guards obeyed me, too afraid to do anything but watch as I commited the crime.

    I leapt from the platform and dived towards her, wings opening close to the last second.
    "Come after me, if you will. It will provide entertainment for those watching. For the Watcher!" I snatched her from the ground, beggining my ascent. Guns thundered below me, swords clashed.
    "The Watcher always Watches!" I screamed, swooping away into the night.
  10. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    Overcast and grey, the sky looked bleak filled with terror at the events unfolding below. War. The world was on the brink of tearing itself apart. the front lines mounted crashing into each other, the maelstrom of fighting whirled onwards. Soldiers died left and right, the chaos was deafening, cracked shields broken swords splintered armour, corpses of the fallen lay everywhere; horses, men, beasts, orcs, goblins, griffins, saurians. Death, destruction. The earth stained read with the crimson life of all the fallen warriors, high above the clamorous din, another battle was being waged. The citadel. The house of the men considered gods.

    One man 's eyes snapped open, the piercing violet and green swirl of his irises shone with power, pulsing with life. His hood cast a dark shadow over his face. He rose, his robes fluttering in the open breeze. With every passing moment the sky grew darker. The hooded figure strode towards the antechamber. Slamming open the doors he barged into the room. the hustle of noise within silencing immediately, all attention focused on the figure. He strode to the centre of the hall, His knuckles tightened over the belt of his robes as he entered the hall.

    "What in the blazes arte you doing, were trying to decide the fate of the worls in this crisis. We need to discuss this so Lorenec. Stand down! If you do anythign further it will be seen as an acto fo treason by the nine, and we will be forced to kill you."

    loosing his robes and standing before the congregation of the nine in his battle attire. He'd seen and heard enough.

    "I am tired of waiting on your debating. Below the world slaughters itself and you all sit her discussing it's fate. What good is chooseing a pat for the future if there is no one to make the future possible? So i invoke Kanitar law. I challenge any one of you who thinks they can best me to a duel. The winner makes the decision on the fate of this world. The looser? Well the looser dies. Those without the strength to make decisions quickly, end up costing more lives than those who make a decision no matter how hard."

    Lornec awaited the challenge. Only one of the nine rose to the challenge. Oriphen, the master of the nine. A she stepped down to face lornec the air around him seemed to distort, fracture. Almost as if reality it'self was denying this man's power.

    "You challenge us, openly. With the kanitar law. This is not the time for us to fight but if your so insistent. I will fight you."
    Lornecs own power flowed forth the very air snapping and cracking under his power much like oriphen, Lornec felt his power pulling back into him, the flows of energy puling to his fingertips. He moulded it with his mind, the malleable energy pulling forth from his finger tips hardening into a ball of solid power, His mind sharpened it folded , gave it purpose and within moments he'd made it. from his mind he'd called it forth. In his hand now sat a defiance of reality, a sword crafted of nothing more than his will and his own power. In oriphen hands sat a spear, made of similar materials. The only thing that separated them, was their will.

    Lornec lunged calling out another blade from his second hand, the blades of pure power and will collided, the resulting shockwave over the clash of wills caused the heavens to burst, and the sky to weep. The only sound close enough to rival the sound ov wills grinding against each other was the echoing roar of thunder. This would be a battle that raged above the worlds of men but hadn't quite ascended into the realm of the gods. Lor and ori flew back from the clashing point. This fight would not end easily and the one who wlot would be the person with the weaker resolve.

    Lornec lifted his had uttering an incantation.
    "The one who englufs the world in fire, burning everything in it's path smashing both will and steel alike. Balmung!"
    With a shining flash of red light Lornec now held in his hands a longsword made of pure fire, the cross guard bend over his hands almost like angel wings, the blade burning with a fury unlike anything else. He would not hold back from this dispute, and oriphen knew it. So he retaliated with an incantation of his own.
    "The brightness that cuts through the ever lasting night, decimating the damned and punishing the wicked. Gunjir!"
    Now in Oriphen's hands lay a spear of solid lighting, it's head broad and crackling with power. The rear of the spear held an orb from which lighting, leapt around to lash out at the surroundings.

    They lept at each other again the fighting, so fast no mortals eyes could keep up. But gain the distance between them resumed with both sliding back, neither one was going to relinquish ground, this was a battle to save or condemn the entire world. Below the battle raged on as the pluses of lighting and roars of thunder punctuated th long pauses between these two men.
    "The sky cries, the oceans rage and the winds howl. No matter who wins, a decision must be made. for if there isn't one, this world is doomed." Lornec lunged forth again re entering the frey fo the fight. within moments they'd been snapped back, both of theri weapons thoroughly destroyed with their fighting.

    "A decision must be made but no without the proper planning, what is the point of the council if there is no discussion?" Oriphen had a point, but Lornec had one as well.
    "Your right there but what is the point of discussion when all it dose is prevent a definite outcome? Right now the world below is in the middle of a war we could have stopped had we acted swifter, every time the council convenes millions of lives are lost whilst we await a decision! So i'm ending this right now. If i win i'm disbanding the council and instead running all the decisions to save more lives."

    Lornec was now impatient and began a stronger incantation.
    "A soul cries out with no trace of light, it's permanent brightness forever darkened by the blackened spirit of it's curruptor. it's only haven shadowed darkenss, crying out from beyond the void. Muramasa!"
    In his hands formed a katana of pure darkness drinking all the light from the room into it's jet black blade. It's emission of power emanated out as a dull purple glow. Oriphen shook his head, he saw what this was truly over and now this was a battle over not just personal hatred but one about the fate of everything, this was albeit a much faster way of resolving an issue.
    "The sun blazes, and the moon shines, light is cast upon the darkend sky through all dark a light must pierce, carving it's path throughout out the everlasting night, the shining blade of illumination. Tonbogiri!"
    With a blinding flash a trident appeared in oriphen's hands the light powering outfrom it making the room brighter. The sheer sheine of the spear refracted with the water casting a rainbow across the room. This was not a fight that would be ending any time soon and until it did, the worlds fate hung in the balance.
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  11. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    The blazing fires of hell burned all that lived there. Molten rock covered the dark surface, making the already bright place even more eerie, if that was possible. The only light came from the tongues of flame residing everywhere yet no where. Howls of pain and suffering resounded in the vast, infinite space they call hell.

    Currently, hell was in chaos. The hard, gritty ground soaked up the black blood pouring from the immense masses of demons and such, all fighting to the death. The clanging of metal and claws could be heard in this messy massacre. Satan had issued an order that all demons, except him of course, must fight to the death. Only one shall be left alive to be set free, onto the human world. Only one shall carry on the “Fear”…

    Teur parried and dodged most of the various attacks coming at her. A dagger whizzed beside her head, cutting off a few strands of her short, pure white hair. Spells of various kinds were thrown, hitting any demon unfortunate enough to be in its way. Some were subtle, and killed without pain. Others were more violent and caused the victim to vomit yellow foam. Others were simple illusions.

    Luckily, her stature was small and short enough to be unnoticed by some. Even so, a stray sword cut a deep gash along her side, leaving trails of crimson blood wherever she walked.

    The usually black sky was now bursting with swirling fireworks. All supplied by destroyed demon remains. Her pale skin was decorated with bruises and cuts as she held off the stream of her own kind with her bare hands. She flicked a bloodied wrist, and fireballs flew towards random places, blocking their vision. She used this chance to flee and hide in a safe place.

    Seeing no pursuers in the meanwhile, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was only one month old, damnit! She huddled in a corner, quivering. Tears formed in her grayish blue eyes as she held her head and gritted her teeth. She had never fought before, and the fact that even her family was trying to kill her had scared her. This was no good, she thought. She could taste the acidic and bitter taste of vomit in her mouth. She couldn’t be weak like this forever…

    Shivering, even though hell could never be cold, she fell into an uneasy sleep of the future.

    Countless days and nights passed as she hid there, unnoticed by all, before a booming voice resounded throughout the vast realm. ‘ The massacre is now over. The survivor: Teur! A portal shall be opened and you will be free to wreak havoc in the human realm. Congratulations!’

    A portal opened up about 1 foot in front of her. As if in a trance, she walked to it, letting almost unbearable brightness surround her…
  12. Re: Writing Exercise: MAGIC!

    Alice listened to Alecander carefully as he told her how to do it. She were a witch, but she had only known it for a couple of days and now she had to learn how to control her magic before it started to control her. Alecander were her familiar, he were supposed to teach her the art of magic before she lost control over it. But as she learned more it would slowly devour Alecander, a familiar couldn't exist any longer when his or he witch or wizard had learned control. A fact that Alice yet not knew and Alecander wouldn't tell her because of the fear of her not practicing. He were there to teach her and protect her, it didn't matter that he one day would disappear because of it.

    Alice watched the lighter Alecander had put in front of her, he lit it and told her to use her magic to take a grip on the fire and move it as she wished. If she felt more comfortable with it she could close her eyes and imagine the fire in front of her, then try feeling it and then moving it. She didn't want to do it, she hated fire. She had been afraid of fire her whole life. Why was fire her element?

    She closed her eyes as Alecander had instructed her to do and she watched in her mind a small fire just as the one the lighter just had created. She tried to feel the fire, she wasn't totally certain if that was what she felt or if she just imagined that she felt it, but she felt something. As if it were breathing. Then she started to move around the fire still with her eyes closed, she didn't know if she also moved the fire in reality but it was moving in her mind. Without her knowing it the fire had grown in reality just as in her mind and were moving just as she imagined it to do and Alecander sat there and watched her development with wonder. A phoenix started to grow from the fire but in the middle Alice started to feel uncomfortable and lost control.

    The fire got thrown around everywhere and Alecander jumped towards Alice to protect her from the flames. When Alice felt Alecander's body over herself she opened her eyes and saw how some of the grass were burning. Alecander fast released Alice when all the fire were on the ground instead of flying around in the air, he took some water from the river just beside them and thrown it around on all the parts of the grass that were on fire.

    "Lucky we choose a place near the river to practice, or else that could have gone bad." Alecander joked and hid his hand in his pocket. He didn't want Alice to know that he had been burnt.
    "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Alice asked Alecander, she could have hurt someone. That's why she hated fire. The only thing it could do were kill.
    "I'm fine, let's get you home. We'll continue the training tomorrow" He told her and motioned towards her house.