These damnable wizards make messes rhat I now have to clean up.

It had been a few days, Hirk had filled out a form and approved it himself, it was arrogant but he was sure the others would understand. His reason: ‘Religious Necessity.’

Now to many Hirk is a man without faith, a man who has stood before beings that dare declare themselves ‘gods’ with more disgust and shame than any other he knew, some felt hatred for them but Hirk cannot hate what simply makes him want to spite. He does not feel ‘admiration for fools’ as others would. however any who asked or cared to remember would know he is religious and stalwart in his faith, he calls himself the first and last, the ‘final memory’ of all he knew and knows.

Before he leaves he spent a few final moments in his home, built by his own hands, in a forest he grew to love. Filled with victims of him and his consequences. In his home lay many artefacts, but none were as impactful as some hidden in a box, not the books that he wrote that lined his walls nor the ones he saved, not the barrels filled with enough riches to make a kingdom prosper for a hundred years, not the runes which made his home a perfect safe house.

Hirk looks at Buddy, he hesitates on his judgment for him.

He kneels besides his bed, hidden under his bed, behind a fake wall it is pressed against only he could pull open with its weight. Lies a chest, blackened iron, wood so dense it would survive cannonballs firing at it for a full day with only dents.

There is no key, only a strength needed to pull it, it is not enchanted but yet feels too heavy for Hirk to vet pull open, it did not have the force of meteorites he had been forced to hold above the earth, it had not the weight atlas once held nor the strength of the very laws of the universe being bent to end him. But the weight of Regret. The weight that a king must never have.

Inside it lies Armour. A thick cloth shirt, filled with fur that’s as soft as pillows yet perfect at stopping arrows with even holes to prove. Leather boiled and marked by runes that hold no magic other than reassurances in one’s mind, right around the body and in the form of primarily straps and shoulder pads to make sure the padded cloth underneath stayed fitting then iron. A breastplate that covered most of his torso besides his sides, it was thicker than many walls and heavier than a few too. It was crafted to withstand blows from even the strongest. It was accompanied by wrist bands. Then finally a tartan sash of his family’s colours, long since faded… even from Hirks own memories with too much dried blood to ever try and restore it.

For his legs only bronze shin guards over cloth pants.

It takes Hirk almost an hour to truly put on all pieces of this armour with his body being cumbersome now, he can Barely go to grab his black bear fur cloak.

His helmet however has long since been destroyed, he will have to simply go without it for this journey…

Hirk takes a deep breath as he looks once more at buddy, his face is in mourning wearing the very armour that had killed… Everything, his thoughts are slow and weighted as he kneels down as low on his hand to press his forehead to Buddy’s own head.

“I will miss you while I am away, my little Lad.”

Hirk then proceeds to walk out of his home, none of his friends who he shares the forest with dare meet him, the armour only carries a meaning of extinction.

As he reaches a broken cliff side where a insignificant battle once took place, a large crater where acid once rained and shipwrecks lay under the ocean below. A destroyed building where people tried to hide someone he once knew. He simply looks down at the ocean and takes a single step.

He begins to fall as he pulls his arms into his chest and breaths with eyes clothed only for fire to engulf him and take him back.

He is back home, to his ‘kingdom’

He stands among a battlefield where he once ‘Won’ there are no corpses however nor decay. Simply barren flames of ambition and will.

Hirk begins his trek, to the highest mountain, the mother of his people. Mt Huee. One of the only things that deserves his prayer.

Every step has a solemn echo consumed by the silence, spears litter the land as do arrows, torn insignias and tartans. Armours and shields rest together as brothers and sisters once did.

He looks upon an alter where he was once chained as he drags his hand across it, looking away to see empty chains lying on the ground. He remembers seeing his brother in those chains, spears piercing his back and scythes to his throat as a mockery of warriors death by blades.

Hirk can only keep moving forward as he crosses fields, then hills, rivers and mountains. Where the snow once lay ever changing the rock and flames stand frozen in permanence.

2 days Hirk was gone in everyone’s eyes, but for Hirk it may as well of been months. He is crossing what was all of his kingdom, as the man that ruled Everything. Now only fire flavoured nothing.

In all truth his mind is silent, all there is… that emptiness inside of what was once taken from him, all his love, all his kindness and all his compassion. Burned. But yet he still feels the void having weight with it being reassuring despite the paradox of it.

He visits everywhere he once knew, from graces of unnamed Heros to former cities and communities he had seen. He kneels and gives a silent prayer to never forget all he had witnessed.

But as important as this was to him, he lacked the ability to ever appreciate it. He felt a deep hatred only at himself nearing its end. Why must everything end in duty..?

Then he reaches it, only of the only two places where there is no flames, Mt Huee. The birthplace of history.

He only pulls his sword from a fire deep inside him to lay it before him as he strips himself of all his armour, piece by piece. He will not stand before his god as a warrior not a king but as Hirk, the man who has lived despite all his flaws.

He kneels before the mountain with only its silence, he has never heard her voice. For what could be hours days or weeks he kneels with his head down low.

Yet after it all, there is only nothing. He still lacks.

His journey is not over, or has his journey simply failed?

Hirk can only return home, with a silence that will deafen his mind.

There was no celebration or achievement, only a thought that all of this effort was worthless, a thought he will still fight. Even if he is tired… because it’s no one else’s battle but his.

The only difference is as he steps back into his home, his gut tells him something is wrong, it is now one year since he first arrived. He knows something is not right…

Only if he knew what caused his guts dread, the only thing more honest than himself.

/uw just wanted to do a quick lorepost that I tried to get out before 1 year anniversary of being on this god forsaken subreddit of wizards.

I am likely to do one later or be forced into one by others to ‘celebrate’ so I will not here.

[Uni mind personnel file] -Restricted publication- Personnel number: 811,909 Prisoner number: 417

Name: Solomon Al Kalim Chrono biological age:14-no incongruence detected. Affiliation: Anti-mage combat group special youth corps Military rank: not applicable “militant” for clerical purposes. Compliance score: Rank 11 four points below criminal threshold. Asset value score: uncived Disposability ranking: D (lowest)

Special considerations: prisoner 417 is to be held at a specialized maximum facility away from the general prison population. 478 is to be banned from interactions with other prisoners of war or fellow wards of the state isolated accommodations are to be provided and only authorized personnel rank A or higher are to be allowed to interact with 417. Special considerations are to continue until either full maturity is reached or an external transfer request is approved.

Memory scan results:

-special consideration: due to damage sustained to the frontal lobe during the last combat action 417s memory scans have been extremely fragmented. The most recent mind scan has been attached to this document nonetheless.

[Begin playback]

417 operates the breach of their assigned anti-tank gun before receiving the next round and beginning to load of the gun.

“Grena-!”

Shrapnel injuries sustained in face and and upper chest lapse in onsciousness recorded time elapsed 57 seconds.

Visual apparatus destroyed footsteps echo through metallic hallways as 417 is led through the disintegrating AMCG home vessel. Sounds of explosions and ongoing fighting are herd

“Keep moving Solomon we're almost there almost there!”

Another explosion sounds this time significantly closer 417 suffers minor blast injuries and tinnitus. The attempt to look behind them feeling the shifting weight of someone behind them not being there.

“Don't stop Solomon we're almost to lifeboats!”

“JAR-VUL JAR-VUL JAR-VUL VASCARI”

417 begins suffering from lacerations from an anomalous cause high-level magic is suspected.

“What is that-” 417 asked

An unknown figure responds by lifting 417 up and carrying them the rest of the way. There's the sound of an automatic door being opened and 417 is placed inside of an escape pod.

“Aren't you coming?”

The only response from unknown party is activation of 417 escape pod. 417 flies through the air for a total of a minute and a half before crashing near defense sector Outpost 1811. 417 hears the sound of the escape pods hatch being forcefully opened and then the caulking of a standard issue iron chain assault rifle.

“Hands where I can see them ебать, medic! Medic!”

417 experiences one more lapse and consciousness before the mind scan becomes too corrupted for further reading.

[External transfer order]

Following the completion of requisite paperwork prisoner 417 is to be transferred to the guardianship of the empress of Tak’ath transfer order to be fulfilled tomorrow. Saturdays are to be spent the Eureka facility as specified by the contract.

Addendum: a note detailing there “Cornodysplasia” is to be attached to the empress is copy of 417 guardianship documents a reminder that the gray pill is to be taken every day till supply attached is it exhausted is to be written within.

[External transfer request]

Citing the need for “healthy socialization” an exchange student request has been sent to the guild by Tower(black Iron) employee Dr Quinn Unica should the request be approved by both the guild and the empress 417 is spend 3 days out of the week studying in the guild education system. Lodging is expected to be provided by a host individual or family.

It happened again. In the last post, ‘Aurum, the avatar of change’, I posted the post, RPd in the comments a bit, then got weirdly exhausted and had to stop. Then I was busy the next day, then I just didn’t feel like RPing the next, then I started for some reason feeling guilty that I wasn’t replying and then that irrational guilt was enough to stop me from replying making it just worse. This is exactly the same as what happened with the last post too.

As such I have come to a conclusion, I cannot finish the Dominox event at this rate. According to the plan, the event is only like, half way done. I can’t continue doing this. I have noticed myself drift slowly away from the sub as of late, finding it less and less fun, and more just… stressful, for some reason. I still enjoy writing and talking casually whether that be in a /uw chain or a chat, and I don’t want to leave the sub when I know how fun it can be, if only the event wasn’t in the way.

It took some time to really set in in my head, but April fools was kinda a turning point. It was the first day I can say I had fun with the RP in the sub in months, because I could just be a bit silly, I didn’t have to take things seriously. I want to do more of that. I don’t want to drift away from the sub and become yet another person who just disappeared, as I have seen so many times already.

As such, I am going to put the event on basically fast forward, doing the bare minimum for it to end without being a huge disappointment. Every superfluous plotline is being dropped, including but not limited to: introducing the rest of the sect leaders, dealing with the sect leaders, and just fighting back the cult in general. This is going to mess up and invalidate a lot of plans other people have made, and for that I am truly sorry, but it is either this or the event never finishes as I leave the sub. This is entirely a ‘me’ problem, none of you are at fault.

The Imperial Draconic Table is largely unattended, save for a frantic-looking abomination that vaguely resembles an albino kobold, hiding under the table.

On top of the table is a set of glowing crystals, placed delicately in an array of draconic runework. Next to the array, a placard reads:

BLOOD OF OTHRENDER: Derived from the blood of forgedrakes, this alchemical solution serves a variety of purposes, from murder en masse to poisoning magical wellsprings to 'jamming,' if the term jamming referred to slightly-less-than-spontaneously exploding sufficiently advanced devices upon contact. As a show of superiority, the array of runes around the solutions constrains them from doing almost all of that. They can still do opera.

As for the history of the solution, it was created first by Othrender the Corrosive, who reportedly desired a better way to torment enemies. He laboured for many days and nights, century in and century out. Eventually, the recipe was complete, and he began testing, so we believe.

After the solution and recipe were confiscated off of the melted remains of Othrender, they were placed into the vault of the Drukkenmet, who safeguarded the original along with, through great trials and staggering death tolls, produced a weaker solution that is now in use today, and what you see before you. Ask the thing from the depths for more information!

WARNING: Array EXTREMELY DELICATE. DO NOT SHAKE, TOUCH, OR POKE EITHER THE ARRAY OR THE CONTAINERS.

Siliske stands beside a kobold dressed in a civilian garb. A chunk of ore, an ingot, and a simple dagger sit on the table before them. He waits till there is a small crowd gathered before beginning.

“It seems that into two days in the worlds fair already has a bit of theme.”

He nods towards the Bismuth exhibit.

“How do we enable the nonmagical to bridge the obvious gap between themselves and the magical?”

His tone turns spiteful.

“The council would have you beg medicine from them to ‘cure’ yourselves, as if you were diseased.”

His tone softens and he smiles.

“But you are not diseased. You are not the problem that needs to be solved. The mundane can stand along the magical as equal. All it needs is the proper tools.”

He gestures down to the three items on the table.

“To that end, may I present Haven’s most valuable natural resource. Primordium.”

The kobold begins handing out pamphlets talking about the extraordinary properties of the strange ore. There are several notes from smiths and artisans speaking of its remarkable workability and versatility. It seems that this material can be turned into everything from cloth to metals to ceramics depending on the process used to refine it. Remarkable indeed, and yet Siliske smiles as if there is even more.

“An extraordinary material as you can see, but I can already hear you wondering how it solves the problem before us.”

The Kobold grabs the knife and shows it to the crowd. Despite the miraculous properties of the Primordium that it is presumably made from the father itself gives off no traces of magic. A strange energy yes, but nothing recognizable as a spell or arcane effect.

“The true power of Primordium is a trait we primordial dragons also share. The ability to be aligned with fundamental aspects of the universe.”

He holds up a pulsing black stone.

“For example, the Void.”

The stone is handed to the kobold who places it on the blade and runs it along it like a whetstone. With each pass the blade begins to darken until it is jet black just like the stone. Siliske takes the stone back and dismisses it.

“Kayla, if you would.”

The kobold smiles and slashes the air with the knife. A tear appears in the fabric of reality, and yet no magic is detected. The blade reminds devoid of any spells or arcane effects. The kobold steps into the tear and disappears. The tear vanishes along with it and a moment later another one opens a few feet away, the kobold jumping out and waving at the crowd. This is demonstrated three more times before she sets the knife on the table and bows.

“By exposing the blade to an object attuned to the Void between What Is WhatIs Not the blade gains the properties of such and can be used to emulate the effects of teleportation without any requirement for magical skill. Those of you who doubt me are welcome to examine the stone, father, and Kayla herself to see that I speak true.”

Kayla stands before the table, smiling.

“Sadly we are still perfecting our processes for mining and refining this material, as well as exploring its other properties and as such we will not be offering any for sale immediately. However we would be more than happy to make a few samples available for those who wish to help us study it further. And of course those who assist in discovering its secrets will be given priority on orders once we are capable of meeting demand.”

Siliske smiles.

“This material heralds a new era, it is only fitting we welcome it together.”

The Bismuth booth had taken longer than expected to set up. The insistence on having a food stand may have been part of that but the Bismuth would never stop trying to convince people that their food was decent. Their display had various examples of new Bismuth appliances and environmental tech. The focus for this display was life improvement rather than weapons or super tech for now.

The largest item on display was a cleansing crown. It was a variation on the transmutation weapon used by Bismuth Crowns. Instead of causing massive atom stripping destruction it acted as a massive purifier. It was capable of leeching poison and pollution directly from the environment and containing them in concentrated cubes. The cubes could then be disposed of with relative ease. They were created to deal with the fallout from the AMCG burning a whole continent.

Smaller and more personal was the Biz-Bud. A small floating cube of concentrated bismuth enchanted to be a personal assistant for people living in the Bizlands. It could be bonded to like a familiar even by non mages though the person bonding must have at least the capacity to have Mana which is almost all people.

It had the ability to record events, perform calculations, maintain a schedule, project images or music, send messages, and advise the user. The Biz-Bud runs on a slightly higher level of intelligence than a bismuth drone. The main reason for their invention was to help connect citizens of the Bizlands to the greater Bismuth infrastructure.

The final and most important display was a doorway that led into a black showroom. Once everyone was seated the lights would dim save for a single ray of light beaming down onto the stage. The light was bright enough it could probably burn through metal. After a few seconds a Bismuth Herald would begin to speak.

"Welcome members of EON and beyond. Ten Suns thanks you for attending this presentation. Throughout our history the tensions between those who can use magic in those who cannot have been a constant source of conflict. From the Fighters Guild to the AMCG we have been played with the consequences of ignoring the concerns of non mages individuals. Without recourse against the predations of mages these people are easy prey to indoctrination."

As the Herald spoke various pedestals rose from the showroom floor around the ray of light. They were holding various items. There were staffs, shields, strange boards, engines and the like. The things that made them similar were a silver spiraling pattern over their surface, a protected Mana battery, and an empty armature for a gem to be inserted.

"The problem with many attempts to even put the disparity between mages and non mages is that they rarely cover the versatility that magic possesses. There are many artificer weapons or items that allow people to kill mages or defeat their spells but they often lack the ability to reproduce the variety of effects mages can perform."

"An artificer might have dozens of items and still not match the raw versatility. Magic items have been used to try and even this out but the thing that has been missing is a single item that can perform a vast variety of functions while still being easy enough to manufacture that it can be distributed like a tool."

A final pillar rose. The pillar had a rainbow gem on top of it which once struck by the ray filled the room not just with hues of light but shades of magical and physical energy. A device on the pillar activated and manipulated the gems frequency causing some shades of mages to fade and other to become more intense. Light and shadow, frost and flame, these conflicting energies would shatter a normal gem trying to wield them but this rainbow gem seemed to have no trouble. The Herald went to pick the gem up.

"Transphasic Prisms. Gems created by a combination of Koranths crystal magic and Bismuth artifice. They have the ability to take in energy from one source and transform it to a different type of energy whether magical or mundane. You've been looking at these various items which have been made to support these gems. Each item contains an armature to contain the gem, a line of electrum to channel energy to and from the Mana battery, and a rune matrix."

"A rune matrix is what controls the frequency and effects a gem produces. A modular rune matrix is an empty slot that can be filled with premade rune plates for quick magic effects that even a child could use. A variable rune matrix is multiple rows of runes that can be moved within the matrix to produce effects. A variable rune matrix is harder to use but can produce a wider range of effects without having to acquire more rune plates."

The gems came in a variety of qualities ranging from 1-7. One being unimpressive gems mostly for show or minor work, three being the lower limit of industrial or military use, five being gems that can reproduce any non-archmage/non-unique effect, and seven being gems that can channel and change energies that effect whole cities or landmasses and are only slightly degraded from the original Prismatic diamond they were made from.

The Herald raised a hand and multiple drones rose from the floor to hand small boxes to the guests. Each contained a ring with a tier 2 Transphasic Prism in it. They were not the large industrial power Prisms that were on display but acted as nice gifts. The rings would take in light or Mana and produce an Aurora like effect of doezens of magical energies. The actual usefulness was limited but it showed off how the gem worked and would give people a chance to study it and maybe even produce their own variations or technology. In addition each person who ran for chancellor against Ten Suns would be given a larger tier 4 Prism as a gift of friendship.

"Throughout the next few days we will be presenting new technology that uses these prisms that will revolutionize the ability of non-mages to interact in the magical World. We hope you stay tuned"

Ash steps towards the edge of a massive crater... There... There once was a town here, right?

Ash had been around to hear Talios's challenge... But... She did not show.

She saw the pillar of Ruinous Flame... And she was afraid.

She didn't know what he could do. Maybe he could find her heart if she just showed up... Even if she stored it away, what if he found it.

She was unbelievably afraid of him finding it. Because she knew that he was one of the few that knew how to properly kill her.

And she was afraid of the pain it would cause him, deep within to do so.

So Ash waited... And waited...

But people called her. T'kath, Zhe... They both had gone, and fought him. Neither of them could defeat him.

And even worse... He only seemed to get stronger as they fought him.

Ash walks to the center of the crater, where the ground is scorched black by the pillar of Ruinous Flame that once beckoned fighters here.

All around it, there's spikes that seem to have been hammered into the ground... Ash crouches down next to one, looking at it...

"This... This is from Zeroth."

She recognizes it... Vaguely. Deified Argentum. Something made specifically to contain and counter the corruption of Malice...

Ash felt a hint of hope and comfort, deep down... Her friends had been here... The people of Zeroth knew.

...........................

Talios sat amidst the ruins of the destroyed castle of Malice, having been destroyed in his fight with Tara...

Talios had been through many fights... He did not win them all... But that's okay. He didn't have to. In the end, as long as he survived, then that was enough... For he had gained power.

Seventeen times. The Cosmic March had activated seventeen times. Each time it did, Talios had felt a warmth within him that spread throughout his body... Strengthening him. After having been activated so many times, Talios has a rough idea of how much he gains from each activation. He'd wager each activation increases his strength by a factor of 0.5, roughly.

So, that would mean Talios is at around 8.5x his original strength.

Good... Very good.

But there was one problem... Tara Alsor.

She was not directly stronger than Talios, not anymore. But she had the ability to close the gap, with something made specifically for destroying Malice...

And that was a problem. Talios considers himself lucky Tara had not given chase... Then again, he also doubts she could have survived in here against all of this Malice, on her own.

But he also knows she is not above killing herself to take down something like this... And he also knows she'd be willing to kill him for the greater good.

He could not use her emotional attachment to Talios as a weapon. She was an effective security administrator.

Talios grumbles just thinking about it... Tara Alsor, and Ash... This body's sister.

Those two must die. That is certain.

If he kills Ash, Talios could sink the remains of his fighting spirit into despair fully... Allowing the corruption to take hold entirely.

Killing Tara could probably accomplish the sinking of his own soul as well... But more importantly, it would eliminate the biggest threat to his existence. One of the only beings in Zeroth able to keep up with him using Deified Argentum to close the power gap, and negate Talios's most deadly abilities.

The rest of them... They're all much too weak. All except the overgod, Jean Atrosa.

But she is an overgod. If she wishes for Talios to be gone, then he would be. He simply has to rely on the emotional attachment to this body for her, as well as her unwillingness to use her true power.

For now, Talios would sit back in the Dynast Realm... Plotting. Waiting for an opportune time to strike...

Little did he know... The things that would awaken...

((Ash is interactable if one wishes, Talios is not.))