The world lived in a magocracy for as long as anyone can remember, the upper classes being those who have mastered the arcane arts and the rest of society being the peons who would do their dirty work. Every settlement had a powerful wizard who was the lord protector over the people there, with life and death authority. Many of those wizards used their prerogatives to do horrifying experimentations with the people.One day, some kind of disruption in the flow of mana cut off the wizards from their powers. The people rebelled and started to murder their wizard masters.What every wizard learns from basic arcane theory is that the energy that power magic has to come from somewhere. Most wizards drain the metaphysical plane of demons, just "below" our own world. This causes destruction in large scale and chaos to unfold there, but the wizards don't care - it is just a bunch of demons. But this simply ceased to work on that fatidic day, and most wizards were unable to adapt quick enough.Many have heard some rumors that some wizards managed to retain part of their powers by using alternative sources of mana.You're one such wizard, and your powers come from the forbidden art of:> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.> Blood magic. Blood contains a little bit of magic. By spilling copious amounts of blood - yours or someone else's - you manage to cast the simplest of spells. More complex or powerful spells require large amounts of sacrifices, preferably in rituals, so that you can muster all the power.> Mana powder. By turning anything with magical powers into a fine powder and snorting it, you can use magic for a very short time. Grinded dry brains, dry blood, broken magical items, mana crystals, demon horn - anything with magic can be snorted and turned into magical power.> Write in
>>6178237> Blood magic. Blood contains a little bit of magic. By spilling copious amounts of blood - yours or someone else's - you manage to cast the simplest of spells. More complex or powerful spells require large amounts of sacrifices, preferably in rituals, so that you can muster all the power.
>>6178237> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.Shrunken heads seems fun
> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.
>>6178237> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.
>>6178237> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.Voodo soul mancer with shurken heads>>Vampire Wannabe blood mage.
>>6178237> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.Soul Drain is much more occult and menacing, which matters to a renegade wizard very muchly!
>>6178237>Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.
>>6178237>> Soul drain. The soul of a being is located in their head, so if you capture and shrink heads you can use people's heads as material component for spells. Works with monsters and animals, but they tend to have far less mana than humans. The head of a wizard and some magical creatures causes far more powerful effects to occur.we are voodoo now
You awaken in suffocating darkness, the sickly stench of death pressing in from all sides. Struggling to breathe, you realize you're buried beneath a mound of corpses. Panic fuels your strength as you claw your way to the surface, gasping for air as you emerge from a shallow grave. Around you lie the lifeless bodies of your fellow apprentices, their faces frozen in terror, and your master's corpse among them.The pain in your chest is sharp but bearable—a spear wound that miraculously missed anything vital. Blood stains your tattered robes, but you're alive.In the distance, a column of thick black smoke rises, marking the location of your master's tower. The memory of flames and screams flashes through your mind.You stand amidst the carnage, trembling yet resolute.What do you do?> Investigate the Smoke: Make your way toward the burning tower. Perhaps you can salvage something or uncover who did this.> Search the Bodies: Examine the remains of your fellow apprentices and your master. There may be clues, tools, or even answers among them.> Tend to Your Wounds: The spear wound might not be fatal, but ignoring it could weaken you further. Focus on patching yourself up before taking action.> Hide and Observe: Seek shelter and wait to see if anyone returns. The attackers might still be nearby.> Flee the Area: Leave immediately, putting as much distance as possible between yourself and the destruction. Survival is the priority.> Write in
>Tend to Your Wounds: The spear wound might not be fatal, but ignoring it could weaken you further. Focus on patching yourself up before taking action.Before anything else we should probably take care of that spear wound
>>6179307>Tend to Your Wounds: The spear wound might not be fatal, but ignoring it could weaken you further. Focus on patching yourself up before taking action.
>>6179307> Search the Bodies: Examine the remains of your fellow apprentices and your master. There may be clues, tools, or even answers among them.We can heal later. Maybe one of them has a healing head.
>>6179324>>6179356>>6179476>>6179546Figuring you may still bleed out if you don't patch yourself up, you rip part of your robes and make a makeshift bandage around your wound.All this action seems to have draw some attention however."S-stay back, wizard! I'm gonna skewer you like we did the others!", says a boy carrying a spear, barely strong enough for it. They must have left him with the sour duty of grave guard - in case a wizard survived somehow.He was probably told to run away and warn the others, but in his frightened state he might have forgotten his instructions.Magic is out of the picture right now, unless... well, unless you chop off someone's head with your dagger that is.> Bamboozle the buy, tell him you just found these clothes but you're not a wizard> Pretend to surrender and slice his throat when he gets nearer> Charge against him dagger in hand like a mad goblin> Try throwing your dagger in his face, you only get one chance> Write inIn any case, roll 1d20 for success.
Rolled 14 (1d20)>>6179645> Bamboozle the buy, tell him you just found these clothes but you're not a wizardWe’re thrifting.
Rolled 6 (1d20)>>6179645>Bamboozle the buy, tell him you just found these clothes but you're not a wizardKid, we're not a wizard, we're just poor.
Rolled 16 (1d20)>>6179645>Bamboozle the buy, tell him you just found these clothes but you're not a wizard
>>6179645OP?
Rolled 3 (1d3)>>6179688>>6179829>>6179866>>6182243You wince as the makeshift bandage digs into your wound, but you force a calm smile on your face. Keeping your voice steady, you raise your hands slightly in a non-threatening gesture."Hey, hey, hold on there, kid!" you say, trying to sound reassuring despite the pain. "I'm not a wizard! I swear, I just found these robes. Was left behind after the last skirmish... those magic users are the real threat, not me!"The boy hesitates, his grip on the spear wavering slightly. You can see the conflict in his eyes — his instincts telling him to attack, but his doubt creeping in. This might be your only chance to get through to him before things get messy.1 - he hesitates but continues suspicious2 - he drops his guard3 - he strikes
>>6182489The boy, still frightened and unsure, suddenly jolts forward, thrusting the spear toward you with trembling hands. "Lies! I won't let you deceive me, wizard!" His fear has pushed him into action, and now the fight is unavoidable unless you can react fast enough.> Run into the woods> Jump into the corpse ditch> Attack the boy with your dagger> Write in
>>6182490> Run into the woods
>>6182509The adrenaline fuels your legs as you dart into the woods, branches whipping against your face and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Behind you, the boy hesitates at the tree line, clutching his spear tightly. He peers into the dark forest, his fear clearly battling with his orders. Perhaps he remembers old tales—whispered warnings about what lurks in these shadows. Whatever the case, his courage falters. Instead of pursuing, he turns tail, sprinting in the opposite direction, his voice carrying faintly through the trees. "Wizard! Wizard!" he yells, his shrill cry echoing behind you. You keep running, the uneven forest floor threatening to trip you at every step. Your breath grows ragged, your muscles burning as exhaustion creeps in. Finally, your legs give out, and you collapse heavily against the base of a tree. Gasping for air, you try to steady yourself, but before you can catch your breath, movement catches your eye. A coyote stands just a few paces away, its golden eyes glinting with hunger. Its teeth are bared, and you can almost feel its intent to lunge. "This is it," you think, clutching your dagger weakly. "This is how it ends." Before the creature can make its move, the whistle of an arrow cuts through the silence. It grazes the coyote’s flank, drawing a yelp from the beast. Panicked, it bolts into the underbrush, disappearing as quickly as it came. “Damn,” a gruff voice mutters. “Missed it by a hair.” A man emerges from the shadows, bow in hand, his face weathered and lined. His piercing eyes scan the area before settling on you. He freezes, clearly not expecting to find anyone else here. “Well, I’ll be,” he says, lowering the bow slightly. “Who the hell are you?” Your strength gives out before you can respond. “Help me,” you whisper, desperation thick in your voice. “I’m hurt... they’re hunting me...” That’s the last thing you manage to say before the darkness swallows you whole.
>>6182555When you wake, you’re lying on a simple wooden cot, a faint smell of herbs and smoke in the air. A soft light filters through the cabin’s single window. As your vision clears, you see a young woman’s face hovering over you. Her features are delicate, framed by loose curls, her expression one of cautious curiosity. "Am I... in heaven?" you croak, your voice dry and raspy. Her lips quirk into a small smile. “Not quite,” she says gently. “But you’ll live.” You shift slightly, wincing at the pain in your side. “Where am I?” “In my father’s cabin,” she replies. “He found you in the woods and brought you back here. You’re lucky—much worse and that wound would’ve killed you.” She pauses, studying you carefully. “Are you really a wizard? They’re killing wizards out there.” Her question hangs in the air, loaded with suspicion and fear. What do you say? > Tell her the truth: "Yes, I’m a wizard." > Deflect with a warning: "You don’t want to know the answer to that." > Lie convincingly: "I’m not a wizard—I looted these robes off a dead one. Everyone thinks I’m him and has been chasing me ever since." > Write in
>>6182556> Deflect with a warning: "You don’t want to know the answer to that."
>>6182556>Deflect with a warning: "You don’t want to know the answer to that."
>>6182567>>6182757You meet her gaze, your face solemn. “You don’t want to know the answer to that,” you murmur, the weight of your words hanging in the room like a storm cloud. She blinks, her expression flickering between curiosity and unease. The silence stretches, thick and awkward, until finally, she clears her throat. “Well... uh...” she hesitates, then her eyes light up as though struck by a sudden idea. “Do you know anything about embroidery?” The unexpected question catches you off guard. “Very little,” you admit, still trying to regain your composure. Her face brightens. “Oh, well, it’s actually really interesting! See, there’s this technique where you... oh, wait, let me show you!” What follows is an exhaustive, borderline overwhelming two-hour explanation of every detail about embroidery. She talks about stitches—backstitch, satin stitch, cross-stitch—as if her life depends on it. She pulls out scraps of fabric to demonstrate, pointing out patterns she’s working on and detailing how different threads affect the texture. You nod politely, pretending to follow along, though the finer points go straight over your head. The girl is clearly passionate, but her energy feels endless, and you can’t help but wonder how she hasn’t tired herself out. Eventually, the door creaks open, and the grizzled man who saved you steps inside. He glances between the two of you, his gaze lingering on the pile of thread and fabric now scattered across the table. With a sigh, he shakes his head. “Hope she hasn’t driven you insane yet,” he says gruffly. “She’s got a bad habit of rambling about embroidery to anyone with ears.” You smile faintly, exhausted but amused. “I think I know your daughter well already,” you say, earning a soft laugh from her and a bemused grunt from him. The man steps closer, his tone turning serious. “Listen, about you...” He scratches his beard, his eyes narrowing. “The village folk are after you, right? Now, they don’t come up here much, but if they figure out you’re here...” He lets the words hang, heavy with implication. “As soon as you can walk, I want you out of here,” he continues firmly. “I don’t want trouble coming to my doorstep.” His words sting, but you can’t blame him. He’s already risked more than most by helping you.
>>6183172You spend the next few days resting in the woodsman’s cabin, slowly regaining your strength. The girl—whose name you learn is Meryn—continues her relentless embroidery lessons, and despite yourself, you pick up a thing or two. She even helps you mend your robes, her practiced hands making quick work of the frayed fabric. The robes look... better, though their distinctive style still marks you as someone dangerous in these parts. The woodsman, true to his word, keeps his distance, only grumbling the occasional warning to “keep out of trouble” whenever you cross paths. You sense his relief when the day comes that you can stand and move without pain. When the morning finally arrives, and you are fit enough to leave, the woodsman looks at you with a stony expression, crossing his arms. “Well, time to head out, stranger. Make sure you don’t lead trouble back here.” You nod, understanding his position, though you’re not entirely sure where you’ll go next. As you stand at the edge of the cabin’s clearing, the path before you branches in multiple directions. It’s time to decide what to do. > Return to the Grave Site: The scene of the ambush is still fresh in your mind. There might be something there that could help you—clues about who attacked you, supplies left behind, or something useful the attackers didn’t take. > Head for the Tower: The looming structure should be unmissable. There may be yet some piece of knowledge or secrets that escaped the ravaging from the raging peasant mob.> Pick a Cardinal Direction and Start Walking: With no clear destination in mind, you could simply choose a direction—north, south, east, or west—and see where fate takes you. > Barter for Supplies: Approach the woodsman and offer your dagger in exchange for plain clothes and a sack of provisions. With less conspicuous attire and some basic supplies, you might stand a better chance of blending in and surviving whatever lies ahead.> Write in
>>6183174> Barter for Supplies: Approach the woodsman and offer your dagger in exchange for plain clothes and a sack of provisions. With less conspicuous attire and some basic supplies, you might stand a better chance of blending in and surviving whatever lies ahead.
>>6183174>Barter for Supplies: Approach the woodsman and offer your dagger in exchange for plain clothes and a sack of provisions. With less conspicuous attire and some basic supplies, you might stand a better chance of blending in and surviving whatever lies ahead.
>>6183175>>6183492You approach the woodsman, your steps careful, holding the dagger loosely in your hand. His eyes narrow at the sight of it, his hard expression unreadable. “What do you want now?” he grumbles, clearly eager to see you gone. “I’d like to trade,” you say, gesturing to your tattered robes and empty hands. “This dagger for some plain clothes and provisions. I can’t get far without them.” For a long moment, he simply stares at you, his brow furrowed, weighing your request. Then, with a sharp nod, he disappears into the cabin. You hear the sound of rummaging before he emerges, holding a bundle of worn but sturdy clothes and a modest sack. He takes the dagger from your outstretched hand, turning it over to inspect the blade. Satisfied, he tucks it into his belt. “Now, go,” he says flatly, motioning toward the forest. You nod, adjusting the sack on your shoulder, and start walking. The woods close in around you, the cabin disappearing behind the dense trees. After some time, the faint babble of water reaches your ears, leading you to a small, clear river cutting through the forest. Kneeling by the water’s edge, you splash your face and change into the plain clothes. They’re coarse and a little loose, but they’ll do. You stuff your patched-up robes into the sack, their distinctive fabric a reminder of the past you can’t quite escape. Following the river downstream, you walk for what feels like hours. The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. Then, up ahead, you spot a small boat bobbing gently on the water. A man sits perched on the edge, his fishing line dipped into the river. The boat is nearly overflowing with freshly caught fish, their scales glinting in the sunlight. He looks up as you approach, his hand shifting slightly toward a knife at his belt. His face is weathered, his eyes sharp and appraising. “Hardly a soul ventures this deep into the woods,” he says, his tone cautious. “Who the hell are you?” > Claim to be a lost traveler looking for the nearest village, hoping to avoid suspicion. > Stand tall, meet his gaze, and warn him not to ask questions if he doesn’t want trouble. > Say nothing for now and simply watch him, waiting to see if he’s hostile or if he lowers his guard. > Write in
>>6184078> Claim to be a lost traveler looking for the nearest village, hoping to avoid suspicion.
>>6184078>Claim to be a lost traveler looking for the nearest village, hoping to avoid suspicion.It’s been days since the slaughter, surely they’ve stopped looking for survivors
>>6184124>>6184259>>6185107You force a weary smile, keeping your posture relaxed as you meet the fisherman’s gaze. “I’m just a traveler, trying to find my way to the nearest village,” you say, feigning a casual tone. “I must have strayed too far into the woods.” The fisherman narrows his eyes slightly, studying you for a long moment. Then, with a small shrug, he gestures with his chin toward the distance. “Oh, you’re in luck then,” he says, adjusting his fishing line. “There’s a village that way, just a day or two on foot.” He then nods toward the river behind him. “Or if you follow the water downstream, you’ll reach another. That’s where I came from.” You keep your expression neutral, but inside, your mind churns. You know exactly which villages he’s referring to. Rodrom—the village you barely escaped with your life—and its neighbor, Zapia. Zapia had once been protected by a wizard, much like your own master. A minor apprentice of some long-dead archmage, his power was enough to keep the village safe from the dangers of the wild—monsters, bandits, and worse. Alone, he could have laid waste to entire hordes of attackers, his magic the only thing standing between civilization and ruin. But that era was over. The system had collapsed. The wizards, once untouchable, were being hunted down and slaughtered. Their protection was gone, and the villagers would have to fend for themselves now. How long before chaos set in? Would they organize? Would they turn against one another? You wonder how long Zapia can last without a guiding hand. And more importantly—was it safe for you to go there? The fisherman’s gaze lingers on you, expectant, and you realize you’ve hesitated too long. He’s waiting for an answer. You need to say something before he starts questioning you further. > "Thank you, I’ll follow down the river." You keep your cover and move on. The river might provide a safer route, and Zapia could have useful supplies—if it still stands. > "Could you give me a ride to your village in your boat?" A faster way to get to Zapia, but it puts you in close quarters with this stranger. Can he be trusted? > "I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll rest here for a while and continue on later." A way to stall for time and gather more information. Maybe the fisherman will talk about what’s happening in the villages. > "I will warn my companions that we finally found a village. I’m taking my leave now." You pretend not to be alone, hoping it will make him less inclined to be suspicious—or hostile. > Write in.
>>6185699> "I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll rest here for a while and continue on later." A way to stall for time and gather more information. Maybe the fisherman will talk about what’s happening in the villages.
>>6185699>"I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll rest here for a while and continue on later." A way to stall for time and gather more information. Maybe the fisherman will talk about what’s happening in the villages.
>>6185699> "Thank you, I’ll follow down the river." You keep your cover and move on. The river might provide a safer route, and Zapia could have useful supplies—if it still stands.
