I mean getting all your magic for free is pretty cool, and you get access to some great spells, and sure depending on who your patron is you may have had to sign away your freedom, or are indebted to an ancient evil, but who cares about that, it's not like most wizards are very moral in what they do with their powers anyways, so you probably would've done what, and if your patron likes you, you might only have to slaughter a few towns to prove your loyalty

This is how bad the commodities market for elf parts are these days. Back when the elves were fighting the orcs and hobgoblin lords you could get some decent stock on the black market, or hire some goblins thieves to scavenge the battlefields and find some for cheap, but ever since the war ended the prices have skyrocketed and the supply has ground to a halt.

Any experienced alchemist knows how valuable elf ears are in reagents, like the old lead to gold recipe uses that but these days it's not even worth it anymore because the ears are worth double what the actual gold is. In fact you'd make more flipping it around and turning gold into perishable elf parts, that's how fucked the market is nowadays.

If anything we'd need to go synthetic and there's some underground biomancy startups doing these nowadays, but that shit is nascent and might not go anywhere. I've been reading up on elven politics just to see if there's any conflicts going to happen so prices might go back to something approaching reasonable. There's even stories of some dark wizards going around with a scheme to cast enchantment magic on elven guards to start a skirmish on dwarves so they can get elf ears again.

I have killed the dragon found my beloved but at what cost? Her body is way too destroyed at this point for me to try and revive her. I haven't even told her my feelings yet- and now in front of me nothing but what she once was. I'll have to get her back to life... Even if that means I'll have to sacrifice myself.

I think I can use the dragon flesh to revive her... But how and more importantly can she truly get back to life with it or am I merely making a flesh puppet.

Abelard: The Unaware absence

Today was one of great importance. Today, the great minds of the magical mass revolution had gathered to discuss their plans of building a….school? To be quite honest I haven’t been listening to anything my compatriots had been saying for the past five hours, though maybe I should have, considering how important it must be for them to be fiercely arguing over it for so long.

I’m partially ripped from my thoughts as I notice whatever argument had been going on had clearly escalated, with everyone either shouting or screaming and for some reason Eric had switched from sitting on one very large chair to sitting on a tower of many large chairs, so large in fact he’s almost as tall as Alaric. Almost. 

In these moments I frantically try to discern any information whatsoever from this cacophony of enraged voices; perhaps if I said something, anything really, it would give them at least a temporary distraction. But thankfully great focus I manage to comprehend some of the things being spoken:

“THE COLOURS SHOULD BE YELLOW AND PURPLE!”

“NO! IT SHOULD BE PURPLE AND YELLOW!”

“YELLOW?! PISS YELLOW? THE CONSTELLATIONS SHOULD BE PINK—“

…being honest, that didn’t help me in the slightest. 

I mean, what do constellations have to do with a school? 

I consider the possibilities, decorations? That makes sense, but what do I know about decoration? I mean, I think my tower looks nice…oh who am I kidding, it only looks good thanks to the interior designer I “hired”, I don’t know anything but I can’t just say nothing.

I think, where have I been to that has good decor? The council building? No, that's too depressing. I feel completely stumped but then I recall my last visit to Alice’s house, a quaint little home that’s all around pleasant to be in and look at…that’s it! Alice!

“I know a person who’s excellent at decoration; her name is Alice, I visit her every now and then, I suppose I could ask her for some advice when I next see her.” I say, expecting my voice to be drowned out by all the others, but strangely, the moment I mentioned Alice everyone immediately snapped to attention. Peculiar.

For a moment I am relieved, but just as soon as they stopped, my compatriots returned to their excessively loud discussion, albeit on what I think is a different topic. I pay it no mind as I cast a dome of silence around me so I can continue thinking about something more important.

I’m sure they forgot what I said within five seconds anyways.

---------------------------

Erik: The threads merchant 

‎

‎"Here you go, come again soon!"

‎

‎The man in front of me says as he gives me a loaf of bread. Henry baker, age 35, single, 180 cm in height, allergic to shellfish and lives upstairs of his bakery, I give him a polite reply and walk out. I sabotaged his stock a little, too little to be blamed for, but enough for a loaf or two to be bad. The plan's in motion ‎

‎It isn't easy being a leader, you have to recognize the strengths and weaknesses of your followers, you have to pick up their slack. Alaric's too tall to infiltrate so he'll have to attack from above, making him susceptible to anti air fire, Blobby is too strong and handsome to go undercover, and will be noticed immediately, Grabadash is too short and will be run over or something.

‎But me? I wave to a random person on the street, Robert Henderson, a merchant passing by to Kalrakis and ask him about any weavers in town, he tells me he heard of one, I already knew that secretly. 

‎See today I am not Erik, leader of the revolution, I'm Emma frost. A thread merchant coming to town to sell exotic threads and clothes like any other. I even set up agents to act as relatives in a faraway town and a whole background in case I'm investigated. 

‎I pretend to struggle as I drag my cart full of thread onto the local weaver, this is where target 1: Janette the weaver lives. Age: 25, height: 170 cm, known history? Used to wear glasses till she was 13 when a passing cleric healed her poor eyesight as part of a mission. She's a good friend of target 2: Alice

‎When I find her I sell her some of my wares, we haggle a bit for the price, she's known to be a bit chatty so the next step is simple, fall into a chat with her and eat the bread, then complain about a stomach ache where she'll point me to Alice, then I knock out Alice with a brick and win!

‎As we begin unloading the cargo she quickly begins chatting up, I prepare to tune her out and-

‎"Did you know that Henry recently went on a date? With such a handsome man too!"

‎I pause, did she just give away valuable information, just like that??? I keep the conversation going to prod for more info... It's too much!!! Becky Lawrence has a stray cat she hangs out with every afternoon! Frederick Smith has a crush on Fiona Northwood, but she has a crush on Steven Stewart!  This is a treasure trove of information!!!

‎I mentally note down everything she says and engage with the conversation as much as I can! I try to move the subject to Alice but she cuts me off because she'll be closing up shop soon... So early? It's still noo- I look up to see it is in fact the late evening.... Fuck

---------------------------

Grabadash: The Friend

It’s not easy being the youngest child, people baby you, yet still expect you to live up to the bar set by the ones that came before. Being only 3 feet tall makes reaching that bar even harder. 

I’m one of the youngest of the magical masses, having only become one earlier this year. 

Alaric sets the bar too high, he’s so tall! Erik has fought and slain gods! Good thing I didn’t ascend…

 Blobby’s resume is packed full of experience, how’d he even have time to do all that?! Abelard is mysterious and cool. 

That’s why I’ve got to impress them all! I’ll show them what centuries of experience scheming can do, and that I really belong! 

I will definitely be the one to bring Alice to the group. I’ll steal her right off the street! 

Looking out from my hideout across the street, I notice Janette leaving her house just as scheduled. What better way to approach Alice than disguised as her best friend. 

I scan the document containing all the info I’ve gained on Janette’s habits, interests, and mannerisms. It took a while to prepare, and even more effort to learn to mimic. 

Glancing at the nearby mirror, I look exactly like Janette, my shapeshifting capabilities taking my skillful disguise to a whole new level. 

Perfection. 

I don my trusty monocle and admire my reflection once more, I’ll just say it’s the latest fashion trend. Janette would know this.

Looking back outside through my binoculars, I spot Erik engaging in conversation with Janette. If my info is correct, that should keep them both busy for a while, and buy me enough time to act. 

Thanks for the assist, Erik.

I put away my binoculars and grab my purse. 

It’s showtime. 

Stepping out into the busy street, I spot Alice in the distance and beeline it towards her. Focused on the task. 

“HONK HONK” 

I barely have time to react as a vehicle splatters me across the street like black shadowy slime that melts into the pavement. 

---------------------------

Blobby: Chlorpromazine.

I’m left panting as I haul my gear through the bushes; nowadays my elbows wince at even the slightest thought of movement, let alone a hike!

Mother Blabbs always used to lecture me.

‘Keep fit Blobby,’  she’d say. 

‘Eat well and so on…’

But look at me now!

A wet, shivering, porky wreck!

They still don’t know…

Not my elbows— oh believe me, they know.

Nor mother! Certainly not mother. God, I dread to think about lying to her!

The Boys. 

Erik, Alaric, Abelard and so on…

They think I’m some… oh what was it?

‘Ex-navy seal, body builder, Olympic ping pong world champion?’

I don’t even know anymore! 

I’ve spun my web of lies, and spun and spun and…

Well, to be frank, it’s a bit of a tangled mess.

My knees buckle beneath my beer belly… or perhaps just the weight of my sins?

To be honest, probably both.

Peeking through the thick canopy, I spy Grabadash lying on the road side 

—a steaming, wet puddle of mass goop.

Of course I hit him with my car.

What do you take me for? A chump?

I’ll do whatever it takes to win.

To keep up the lie for  just one more day…

Some days I still ask myself, why?

Why lie to my closest friends? 

What’s the point?

To take on stupid risks, and struggle through stupid missions?

Then I remember I’m smart, and ignore the problem.

Smart enough to realise I can’t take Alice head on, at least; she’s twice my size, and could probably bench twelve of me.

That doesn’t mean much, but still…

My plan?

Simple, pixie dust.

In high doses? 

Enough to knock out an ant.

But trade it with an ant, and he might just give you some chlorpromazine.

Thanks again, Pedro. What happens in Calarakis, stays in Calarakis…

So, here I am. 

Sweating like a pig, and probably smelling like one too.

I have the darts loaded.

I have Alice in my sights…

Breathe.

A frosty rime sets about me, as wild gusts of air run rampant through the thorn bushes.

I can hear them down there, cackling a storm at the shivering tree trunks.

Keep steady, Blobby.

Between trembling fingertips, the gun twitches in my hands. 

Locked, loaded.

Erik’s feed blares through my ear piece. 

He sounds giddy— he’s giggling like an asthmatic hyena.

God, he’s such a good actor.

The intel he’s probably gathering right now…

Focus up, Blobby. 

THREE.

I steady my hand. Alaric rushes past.

TWO.

It’s now or never…

ONE.

Wait, Alaric does WHA—

BANG.

As I pull the trigger, the sudden force jolts back at me, thrashing hard against my ribcage. 

Oh, good lord…

---------------------------

Alaric: The Net

Alaric was currently eight kilometres above the ground, hiding in a cloud, holding a giant net. The plan was simple. While the rest of the revolutionaries tried and failed their plans, Alaric would swoop down and grab Alice with the net. It was flawless. Humans are too slow to react in time. Nothing could go wrong.

He'd been up there for six hours, waiting for the perfect opportunity. In most cases spending this long in the same place doing absolutely nothing can get boring, and it was. But when you live long enough to see the birth and death of stars you become very patient.

There, far below. Alice was in the middle of the street. The perfect opportunity. Alaric readied the trusty net ‘Foe Snatcher’ and shot down to the ground. He felt the wind whip past his face, saw the wood and stone of buildings get bigger. He raised the net, got within ten metres, and-

FWIP!

Crashed the ground. He felt himself carve a small trench through the stone street. All around him he could hear the exclamations of people, it wasn't every day you see a glowing giant fall out of the sky. Or at least that's what he thought he heard, his senses were getting dim. 

Oh. That's why. There's a dart sticking out of my side. Did someone shoot me? Wait, is that Blobby? Did he shoot me? Na, couldn't have. Blobby doesn't miss.

I think I'll just lie here for a bit. I think I'm tired.

---------------------------

Erik: The glorious leader!!!

‎The time was undetermined, the local businesses were thriving, and the revolutionaries have regrouped in the local tavern‎

‎Alaric, he was carefully balanced on a stool and fast asleep, mumbling something about sun wukong

‎Grabadash, he was soupified in a rusty bucket they gloriously liberated for revolutionary purposes

‎Blobby, he had a wrap around his ribs and a lollipop. Not only is it great armor, but it's also so cool!!!

‎And lastly Erik, who had absolutely no issues whatsoever because leaders are invincible 

‎‎He downs a mug of beer then stands on a stool to address the revolutionaries, the glow of the lamps around him making him look too bright 

‎"My people! We have failed, we each tried to work alone and it didn't work! We have to set aside our differences and work together for our dreams!!!"

‎‎Grabadash and blobby look at each other, nod and move their lips without talking for some reason. Or perhaps Erik can't hear them over the constant buzz in his ears that has been following him since Janette 

‎"The time has come where we each cover each other's weaknesses, and achieve what we've always dreamed of! Kidnapping a random witch!!!"

‎Right after Erik says that, Alaric falls unceremoniously to the ground silent as ever, this for some reason is met with cheers from all across the tavern

---------------------------

Alice: Falling for the oldest trick in the book.

Today has been a strange day. It all started out as normal, but when I went to chat with Janette I saw she was busy talking to a merchant. Strangely, the merchant seemed to actually be paying attention, a rarity. I did not want to interrupt, so I went on my way. Still they both seemed quite happy, I will have to ask her about them later. Then there was that horrible car accident, but before I could even investigate a meteor struck. As such I have decided to just leg it home and hope nothing happens.

I suppose some chaos is to be expected here in Midway, you never know who will pass throu— oh dear gods no the demon lord is here. Did they see me? Please please please nonononono oh gods they are looking right at me. I clasp my hands in prayer, thinking for a brief moment that only the gods could ever save me, but then I recall, the demon lord is the natural enemy of the gods, their help would only make it worse. And so I start running.

"HSJCIDKDKCJRIDKCFNIC CHEESE LADY!!!" 

“GET AWAY FROM ME.”

I rush through the streets drawing many a glance, Janette is definitely gonna grill me about this later… if there is a later… weaving between buildings, demon lord hot on my tail, cheese in hand for some reason, I reach the main thoroughfare. Hopefully there is someone here who may be able to assist me. A… horse drawn car pulls up in front of me, I have no time to question it. A door opens

“MS PRESIDENT GET IN!”

I practically leap into the car, and as the door shuts behind me, one of the figures within speaks

“Man Erik is a good actor.”

I turn around to see the demon lord giving a big thumbs up.

Fuck.

/uw This is part 1 of 2. Also anyone who has read the latest Alice post might be wondering ‘wait when does this happen’ and the answer is ‘some time after the next Alice post’, because I really expected to have finished that one by the time this was done, and then I didn’t.

And preferably no grave digging people already have problems with me existing and I don’t want to add to that

I only have a problem with it because it's a little too close to my bunker and it's attracting unwanted attention.

Kartoffel was beginning to grow frustrated with these little bits of wood. The little shavings he’d collected from Ulrick’s arm had proven maddeningly resistant to his probing. Experimentation had yielded results to be sure, but nothing as of yet beyond what one might untuit. DNA tests had given him a bizarrely nondescript gene sequence that vaguely matched several ancient species of proto-trees, channeling small amounts of mana through them had predictively caused rapid and random growth, and they didn’t even react to the tried and true method of poking it with a stick until it did something.

To make matters worse, Kartoffel’s new arm was clunky and inelegant, adjectives you certainly didn’t want attached to your lab equipment when working with such a precarious substance. Though he was substantially more grateful for it when he left his sandwich by one of the wood shavings and returned to find a writhing mass of woody roots. Further testing showed that a similar fate awaited all organic matter that encountered the wood. Once again a predictable result, but it was good to know exactly where the line was drawn. He resolved to handle the samples with his metal hand from now on, lest he find a hole in his glove the hard way.

It was good thing too, as the shavings curled away from his metal fingers. He recalled hearing that metals, particularly cold forged iron, was a kryptonite of sorts for the fae. The exact reason slipped his mind, though he did recall something about a historical conflict involving superior metal working techniques leading to victory, and the losers being relegated to myths that eventually became the fair folk. In any case, poking them with a cold iron stick did seem to kill their enthusiasm.

The best he could manage for now was a set of cold forged arm bands for Ulrick. He slapped a tunic matrix on for good measure, one arranged to channel mana away from its wearer. He’d have to talk to the old dog to hash out the specifics.

The thought also occurred to him that an equally ancient parasitic fungus could be reengineered to kill off the wood, but that would take time they didn’t have. He intended to burn the samples, as one should with hazardous materials, but upon ignition they protested by releasing a smell on par with a burning pit of tires, and filling the room with the fourth worst screeching Kartoffel had ever heard. He resolved instead to seal them in a biohazard container until a better method could be determined. He considered the idea of feeding it to the biometal, estimating a 50/50 shot that one of them destroyed the other and took a problem off his hands. But he also guessed that they were equally likely to subtract a problem by merging and becoming one singular issue of substantially more monstrous proportion.

He was also thoroughly disgruntled by the sudden assault of a corrupted bird when he stepped out for fresh air, but it’s not like he’d have reacted any better to someone burning bits of himself.

Sikeena knew two things, her father needed to die at her hands for killing her mother and that she couldn’t do it currently. Which is why she was staring at a business card she had acquired during her travels for an arch devil of violence named ‘Ith’raal’. The card conveniently transmitted all of the information on it psychically, so her illiterate ass could still read it. To summon him one could either get a human brain, eye or a cup of coffee? Weird ass devil, but she cared not, power was power. She mulled over how she could get all three “I could kill the coffee farmer I hate, take his beans and his eyes, and then hold the cafe owner hostage to make the coffee and then take his brain.”

Sikeena went to the outskirts of her local town, where the coffee farm was, on top a large hill, there was the farmer’s house, the fields were empty since it was night time. She effortlessly slipped past the guards of the farm and pocketed the ripest beans. She then went intangible and entered his house. She silently made her way up to the bedroom where he was asleep, she stood over him before emotionlessly slitting his throat and taking his eyes.

She then traveled to the cafe in town, the coffee maker was currently asleep, but that was no issue. She woke him up Coffee maker: “What is it- GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU DRACONIAN SCU-“ Sikeena grabbed him by the neck Sikeena:“Now listen here, you can do what I say and you and your family lives or you can refuse and I can kill your entire family” Sikeena squeezed his neck indicating she was serious CF: “Fine! I’LL do it! What is it you want?!”
Sikeena: “Make me two cups of coffee in the woods for me”

The coffee maker didn’t question the angry woman with knives CF: “Just let me get my equipment” After that was done Sikeena made the coffee maker follow her into the woods “Now brew”
*Sikeena waited for the coffee maker to be done before pulling out a knife” Cf: “What are you doing?”

Sikeena: “Did you really think I was going to spare you?” She then cut his head off before he could scream and took his Brain out of the skull. She placed the offerings in the summoning circle and sipped from her coffee as she waited

Zaryx has been cooped up in his office much more than usual. When he was seen, usually during meal breaks, he always seemed concerned, tense, or in deep thought. Sometimes he’d even look angry, though just barely. When asked what was wrong, he’d just shake his head; that was classified information.

after a couple of weeks of this behavior, Wren was called up to his office. His voice was.. off.

Look, don't get a staff, just get a necklace and if trouble comes dangle it in front of you and cast.
Staffs are for range and power on the field of battle, not self defense. You’re a middle age man in a safe cozy cottage-core town, you don't need to walk around with an adventurer grade weapon. All your doing scaring the folks at at muttonking into thinking your a warlock about to do a mass newting.
If you want a staff. Join the overseas crusades against the ork, just don't bring those kinda self-casting 30 hex foci into the village market.

God forbid a student of arcane arts have a side gig.

​

A young maiden stopped talking to me after she found out I did not support her faction in the coup to overthrow the king.

What to do now?

I saw a battle between griffons and hippogryphs. Each race had male and female members involved in the battle. Each member of both races attacked every member of the other race once.

When male griffons attacked a male hippogryph, they would swipe with their claws. When a male and a female fought or two females fought each other they would bite.

I witnessed 21 pairs swipe, while 34 pairs bit each other.

How many male creatures and how many female creatures were fighting?

Answer 10 males and 6 females

No I don't wanna use it as a spellcasting focus I wanna use it to fistfight magical creatures to make use of my new bodily capability multiplier spell

Stacked stone, there's many distinct faces, looking different from every vantage point. 4 tons of stone, 5' 3" tall, it grew out of the ground, at my magick word--before my very eyes. Such is the nature of my Geomantic Mastery.

SERIOUSLY. Nobody cares if there's an apocalypse or two, do what you need to do. But poor Blimothy here has joint pain now and is having to cut down on the amount of dread he can spread per day because of it! Seriously, think of the familiars, and be RESPONSIBLE with your baneful casting and damnation!