When it comes to magic, I'm thinking a lot of the various types of magic. Similar to how Dr. Strange uses all types and and I realize that by giving a full range on powerful magic will make characters broken I will put a limit. 1 to 2 magic affinities you can be an expert in and no forbidden magic

Forbidden magic:
blood magic
eldritch magic
chaos magic
dark arts
celestial magic

basically any magic that makes you broken is not available (no exceptions)

The company has faced and vanquished many cults in their time, but none were as formidable as the cult that started it all. Known as the Paragons of dawn, an order made to bring salvation for the betterment of everyone, they would come to be known as the Harbingers of the end, a cult that seeks salvation through the world's destruction. The order turned cult once sought to right the wrongs of their respective countries. The order turned cult in time turned to more nefarious means in order to get closer to their goal eventually stumbling upon forbidden magics. These dark arts twisted their physical forms leaving them hideously scarred and deformed corrupting their minds leaving them enthralled. Over time and prolonged use of these magics, they began to hear voices promising them power beyond their wildest imagination and through ritualistic summoning, the dragon was born

In the heart of the country of Nagahoro lies Gwangju. Once a city of thieves, murderers, assassins, and other less than reputable folk, This city was once a lawless place. Murders went unsolved, thievery was common, and the government was at the mercy of the various gangs that once controlled this town. Making an honest living in this town was next to impossible, as anyone who lived inside the city walls either worked for one of the gangs, or through less than moral means. Life outside the city was not much better as the farmers who sold their produce in the walls were not excluded from the corruption and tyranny of the gangs. The only places not touched, well save a few, were the temples and monasteries. With the intervention of the heroes, and several months of fighting, Gwangju is now a vibrant and beautiful place to be. It is now run by a more stable government and the city has never been more prosperous. The place is known throughout the world for their various exotic trinkets, delicious food, drinks, and other things.



To the west of Nagahoro lies Casperus home to the city of Bradena and birthplace of the company of heroes. Bredena was not without its shortage of problems, not as bad as Gwangju, but bad none the less. In addition to being the birthplace of the company, it was also the site of the mage rebellion and various vies for the throne included but not limited to, murder, coups, and many more. Before the heroes, Bradena had a massive class problem which saw that anyone not born to a royal family struggled to make ends meet. After the events of the heroes, the city has gotten better. With control taken from the despots that were the families and the bearer of the crown, it has become the central hub of commerce in Casperus and proper schools for mages have been built. They even have a famous coffee shop run by two women who sell the most delectable confections and a tavern named the gilded Gryphon where adventurers stop by for a meal and lodging



Not much is known about the country of Tjenbun except the most notable city of Setcarma. The history, its customs, even its people are a mystery. as mysterious as this country and its city is, it is most defined in some of the same ways Nagahoro is, through its exotic trinkets, foods, and other odds and ends.



Miles upon miles of mountainous grasslands and forests, This is home to many nomadic people who live off the land. In addition to the small population of people inhabiting these lands, There lies a small trading post where they gather to barter for various goods. It is also home to an adventurer guild for would be adventurers.



No country with more impactful history than Trai Spia. Home to the once great Pherora, This entire city and half the country would be lost in an instant to the dragon and spark the conflict between dragon kind and the people of the land. Were it not for the heroes that conflict would still be ongoing, now the relationship is back to more or less the same. The dragons inhabit the land far away from the people who still live there and the people tend to stay away from the dragons. While Trai Spia will never be what it once was, solace can be taken that the inhabitants of said country are making do.

The mages of the lands were not always treated well before the battle with the dragon. Many people with magical abilities were shunned and treated like outcasts. While magic was common, it was not the most widely accepted skill, mostly due to fear and ignorance. There were schools before the ones that existed now, but they acted more as prisons with less than great living conditions and and even less than great treatment by governments that ran them. The mages understandably fed up with the mistreatment and injustice rose up in revolt in the city of Bradena which led to even more harsh treatment after it failed. After their failure some of the mages would join the harbingers and turn to the dark arts for power. The heroes would change this after the battle with the cult and the dragon showing the world that magic is nothing to fear in the right hands. Now people with magical gifts are treated more fairly and while there are still people who are weary of it, there isn't much of a chance of a mage being thrown in jail for their abilities

Now then, What is your name?

“Hmm, well, I suppose I’ve been known by a few names over the years. I was called Gideon of the Glade in my youth and some would still call me that even now, though I’m miles away from that glade and haven’t returned in years. Some call me Sir Gideon, even though I was never properly knighted and never wanted to be; I suppose the armour makes people think otherwise. These days I’m mostly commonly called Guildmaster Gideon, because of my role.”

“But despite all the titles, real, deserved or otherwise, I’m just Gideon Fairbright. Or just Gideon, if you prefer.”

Splendid, and your age?

“Oh, 30…ish.”

Fantastic, and your gender good hero

“Male.”

Excellent and of I know what you look like but for the sake of our readers?

“I have to describe myself? But wouldn’t it make more sense for you…? Never mind.”

“Well… I’m a little over six feet tall. I have brown hair, shortish and swept to one side; err, the left side. A beard. Ah, when in combat I wear plate armour with dark blue… I guess a kind of shawl over my shoulders and a belted skirt around the waist. The belt itself is rather ostentatious; silver and gold with a very prominent shield-like design on the front; it was a gift and it does offer me protection.”

“What else… ah, forgive me, I’m not very good at this sort of thing. A picture? Yes, that would work better.”



Excellent. Excellent, and how do you act on most days, you know, your mannerisms, your quirks and such. What makes you, you?

“Oh, that’s an even tougher question than the last one. I’ve always thought you could never really get to know a person just by asking what they’re like. Very few people are able to be objective about themselves after all; we always think much too highly or way too little of ourselves for that.”

“But I’ll do my best.”

“…When I was a young man I suppose I was fairly… full of myself. I was a big fish in a very small pond and that gave me an inflated sense of important. And that, in turn, made me quite arrogant. Meeting Madame Ravenwood and being dragged into her adventures was quite an eye opening experience, let me tell you; once I saw what the rest of the world was like and just how many other big fish there were out there, I realised that I wasn’t nearly as important or special as I thought.”

“It was a… humbling experience. One that I am grateful for.”

“Since then I’d like to think I’ve matured a little. I am aware of my accomplishments and know that they were not meagre feats, but I was not alone when I did any of them and if I hadn’t been there, there are plenty of other adventurers who could have taken my place. I am considered a hero, because I was in the place I needed to be when I was needed; nothing more.”

“Nonetheless, I know that I am strong and that I have things I can teach to others. I know I still have duties to perform. I am not being self-deprecating when I say I am nothing special, I am merely maintaining a sense of perspective, to avoid falling into the same pitfalls I did as a youth. I became the guildmaster of one of the largest adventurer’s guilds on the continent in part because people admire me more than they should, but I accepted the position because I felt I was suitable for it and so that I could pass on my knowledge and experience to others. So that I could watch other the next generation and so that I can keep my finger on the pulse of this continent’s goings on.”

“So to answer your question, I suppose I would say that I am humble and grateful to those that put their trust and faith in me. I am diligent, both to my responsibilities to those under my protection and also to the looming threats of this world. And I am… always trying to make myself and those around me better and stronger, so that we can face whatever comes next.”

Mhm, and your abilities magical or otherwise? If you use magic, what is your discipline? do you use it for battle, defence, healing?

“Well, I can give a basic description, but I’m sure you’ll understand why I can’t divulge too much information about this.”

“To put it succinctly; I am blessed by the waters of my home. They grant me magic that allows me to cast protective spells around myself or others, to ward off harm and avoid danger. Curses and such don’t have much effect on me, even without spells, and any that do manage to stick I can usually deal with. I can also do a little healing and my combat magic isn’t too shabby either; though obviously I have a little trouble against opponents that can resist a little splash of water.”

“I’m also a fairly capable swordsman and fighter. That armour isn’t just for show and neither is that fancy sword I carry around. I’m much stronger than average, due to that same blessing and I don’t recall ever being sick since I was a child, or even being fatigued; I suppose I’m just all around healthier too.”

Yes, yes, and before everything that transpired, what was your life like? Who were you?

“It’s an old story and easily found, so I don’t mind telling you; there was a myth in my village about an ancient King of Fairies who used to rule the land on which we then lived. That part of the continent used to all be one vast forest, until people came along and cut it down to make way for farmland and roads and towns; the story went that as the forest was cut down, the fairies who drew their power from it gradually lost their magic and their kingdom mostly collapsed.”

“Though they possessed of strange and powerful magic, the fairies were not warriors and had no way to defend the forest through force of arms. So instead, the King ordered that his subjects create wards to avoid detection and to subtly warn people away from the areas of the forest they most wanted to protect. But, as their powers shrank, the wards began to fail and even those areas were soon cleared away; all except for one, anyway. Supposedly there were still some areas that remained hidden and protected and anyone who could find them would be able to find some kind of secret fairy treasure.”

“Stories of hidden treasures aren’t that uncommon; half the adventurers in my guild are chasing after some old myth or another trying to find one. But this is the one I grew up with and it certainly inspired a lot of the kids in my village to spend their days running off into the woods looking for fairy rings and hidden spots. I was no different. I wasted many afternoons in those woods looking for… something. I was bound to get into trouble eventually and sure enough, one day I was out wandering through a part of the woods that the other children all avoided because they thought it was too dangerous; wolves were common there, supposedly. I found no wolves, but I did find a nice long drop down the side of a cliff that I couldn’t see through all of the underbrush. I stepped through a bush and found nothing but air under my feet.”

“I landed in what seemed like another world at first. Everything was so bright, the sun was shining down on this little spring that was just sparkling; crystal clear and surrounded by flat grass littered with wild flowers. It was just this perfect little glade, hidden away deep in the woods. And right there, sticking up out of the water, was an old, rusted sword.”

Gideon smiles and points to a gleaming sword hanging on the wall to his side.

“That sword.”

“I walked out into the water. I remember it being cool and soothing to the injuries I had gotten from the fall; not that I as even paying attention to the pain at the time. All I could think about was the sword. When I grabbed it, it just felt right in my hand, despite being far too large for a boy my size and covered with rust and grime. When I pulled it free, it was no longer old and filthy, but shining and glorious; like it is now.”

“That was when I heard the voices. From all around me. The voices of the fairies. The ones who lived in the glade and who had been watching me since I fell. To see what I would do. See, that glade was one of those protected places I mentioned; one of the places warded and hidden away so it would never be found. Which explained why the other children were so afraid to go there, but didn’t explain why I wasn’t. The ward didn’t work on me; I wasn’t scared away, instead I walked straight to it and I could see the spring after I’d fallen down there.”

“And the sword? That was supposed to be hidden too, but I just walked right up to it and picked it up no problem. Apparently, that sword was crafted by the King of the Fairies centuries ago to be used by a chosen protector; someone who could fight and defend their forest where they could not. But though the sword was forged, they never found someone to wield it. Until then.”

“By picking up the sword, I had made myself their new protector.”

I would have never guessed, and what were your relationships with your comrades, are you still friends? Maybe lovers? Bitter rivals? How do you see them in your eyes

(I’ll leave this empty for now. Hit me up if you have any ideas for past relationships.)

So that's how you worked with each other, and how was your relationship with Madame Ravenwood? Nothing but good I hope?

“Ah, well, Octavia was… I said before that I was rather full of myself as a young man. After finding the sword I had spent the next few years dealing with various minor threats around the region; monster sightings, bandit tribes, wild magical occurrences. The magic of the fairies allowed me to deal with those things fairly easily and I thought that meant I was something special; a chosen hero out of legend. Then one day Octavia showed up in my small village, chasing after some monster which she had been tracking down, and I… hmm, I guess I wanted to show off a little”

“Mind you this was a few years before she formed her group of sellswords; before the group of heroes that everyone now thinks of when they hear her name was a thing. I hadn’t ventured far from my village at that point and she was the first real adventurer I’d ever met. I offered to track down and defeat the monster for her, thinking myself more capable than her and she refused; very politely I must stress, but a refusal nonetheless. She said she had no need for my help and that… didn’t go over well with my younger self. I was angered, my pride wounded and I… well… I challenged her to a duel.”

“I lost, of course. Absolutely and completely… I never stood a chance.”

“It came as a shock, as you can imagine. But… I think it did me a world of good. My ego needed deflating, before I got myself or someone else hurt. Octavia left the village soon after, once she’d dealt with whatever she was looking for, and I left too not long after that. A bit of travel would help me to grow, I thought, and I suddenly had a desire to see what else was out there, over the hills beyond my village.”

“The next few years I spent as an adventurer myself. I travelled, saw new places, met a lot of people… I gained perspective and experience, both of which I had been lacking, sealed away in my village. Eventually I made my way to Bradena, where I met Octavia again and signed myself up to become a member of her sellswords.”

“The rest of the story, I’ll assume you and your readers already know.”

“So, what was my relationship like with Octavia? She was my friend. My mentor. My inspiration. I miss her dearly.”

I see, and.....did you know?

“Hmm?”

Did you even guess, did you even have the slightest idea?

“…”

Do you even realize the amount of shit you heroes are in?

Gideon stands up from behind his desk, hand reaching out to grasp the sword that is always in reach and currently hanging on the wall of his office.

What made you think you could defeat him so easily? WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT US SO EASILY?

Rather than answer, Gideon casts a spell. A subtle blue glow overtakes his empty hand as a thin layer of water surrounds his body and the air around his swells with moisture.

We almost did it, almost, but then you heroes and that bitch! Well no matter, you and your comrades will get yours soon enough!

“You failed before. You’ll fail now.”

YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT HIM, DEFEAT US! NEVER! (cue explosion with lots of blood and a little guts)

When the explosion of blood and guts hit Gideon it was simply… swept away. The water around his body moved to swipe away the viscera and the grime before it even had a chance to touch him and the now sullied water threw itself away from his body and was replaced with fresh water, clean as the spring he had found his sword in all those years ago.

“Dammit.”

Excuse me madam, might you be one of the heroes from legend?

Seated alone at her table in the quiet tavern, Shiri looks up from aimlessly watching the rice wine sloshing inside its half-empty bottle. “Perhaps.”

Please great hero, might you lend me your ear? I have traveled far and wide to hear your tale, my only wish is to tell your story. True, I suppose if I wanted to know of various deeds I could just visit my local tavern or library, but to get it from the horse's mouth, now that would be a treat, far better than any old watered down story you hear on the streets, wouldn't you agree?

She sits up and tries to look a little more presentable. At least he caught her at a time when she isn’t sloshed yet. “I guess we can talk. I don’t have much better to do.”

Oh you will? Joyous occasion! You shant regret this my friend, I promise you. Now then, what is your name?

“Yuyakori Shiri. Or Shiri Yuyakori is how they would know it in Casperus. Yuyakori is the family name.”

Splendid, and your age?

“Twenty-eight. No, wait, twenty-nine. Twenty-nine? Twenty-nine. Time flies.”

Fantastic, and your gender good hero?

“Did you forget your glasses? Female.”

Excellent and of course I know what you look like but for the sake of our readers?

“Well, I’m a human woman from Nagahoro. I’m of average height, slender, with short black hair and brown eyes. At the moment I’m wearing a simple black dress in the Gwangju style, but when I’m in the action I prefer something more practical. I don’t wear armor though, that weighs me down too much. Just a loose cloth jacket and trousers with soft leather boots is my go-to. Really, it’s the go-to of many martial artists who practice the agile styles.”



Excellent, excellent, and how do you act on most days, you know, your mannerisms, your quirks and such. What makes you, you?

“Err, I guess I’m pretty different now from how I used to be. During our adventure, I was quite reserved, composed, determined. Kind too, I think, but with a stern edge to it. Maybe a bit too much of a stern edge, in hindsight. As for nowadays, well, I’ve been through some tough times. But that’s no fun to talk about and frankly I think it’s none of your readers’ business. So let’s move on.”

Mhm, and your abilities magical or otherwise? If you use magic, what is your discipline? Do you use it for battle, defense, healing?

She perks up a little at the opportunity to talk about this. “I was trained in ascetic martial arts, with a focus on agile techniques and bladed weapons. My preferred weapon is a slender curved blade called a silksword. I have one of masterwork quality that was passed down to me from my mentor. It’s called Kare Sachi, which translates to something like “Wind Song” in your language. I’d show you, but… well, I don’t like to carry it around nowadays. Anyways, I’m skilled at unarmed combat as well. We warrior monks believe that while weapons are more practical in battle, unarmed techniques are essential to gaining true mastery of your own body. That’s why I’ve continued to maintain my unarmed skills, while I’ve admittedly neglected my swordsmanship after the war ended.”

“I also make use of wind magic, but not in the way a sorcerer does. I can’t make whirlwinds or shoot lightning bolts. It’s more of an advanced fighting technique, which we call white phoenix style, where I bend it around my own body to create powerful short-range bursts. So, for example, I could enhance a kick to strike with the force of a battering ram. I can also use it to launch myself into the sky, like a powerful jump, and then use it again to stay aloft or quickly change direction. The result seems like flying, but I can’t stay off the ground for long without tiring myself out. Lastly, by channelling the magic through a swing of my sword, I can emit a wave of air that cuts from a distance. It’s a very deadly technique, but it can only be performed with great focus and no hesitation. I’m not sure if I could still do it at this point.”

Yes, yes, and before everything that transpired, what was your life like? Who were you?

“I was born in a rural village in Nagahoro. While much of the country was in turmoil at the time, we were lucky to live under the protection of a nearby temple. The formidable warrior monks protected the surrounding land against bandits and other incursions. They were not numerous enough to stand against the major clans, but those generally left us alone for having little of value to offer. Still, life was not without its troubles. In a year of bad harvests, my parents struggled to provide for my two siblings and I. Thus, the monks offered to take one of their children off their hands, which they reluctantly accepted.”

“From then, I grew up among the warrior monks, maintaining only limited contact with my family. They taught me how to pray to the four spirits of the land, how to meditate, and how to fight. It was hard work, but I took to it well and made progress quickly. Based on my personality and build, they assigned me the tiger style, an agile martial arts form that incorporates bladed weapons. I later supplemented that with the white phoenix style, for which our temple had no mentor, but which I painstakingly learned from old scrolls. By the time I was an adult, I was the most formidable among my peers. The elders especially commended my ability to clear my mind and fight without hesitation, a key skill that most take much longer to master.”

“Despite this, they were reluctant to send me into the field. They claimed I wasn’t ready for the responsibility, something I didn’t understand back then. But fate ended up leaving them no choice. One day, a bandit attack happened while I was in town visiting my family. A small group had wisely avoided detection and figured they could plunder the town before the monks would know they were there. I walked in on one of the brutes dragging away my sister while my father lay bleeding on the floor. Needless to say, that became the first time I killed someone. And the thing is, it was easy. My training kicked right in, and with a clear mind I skewered him right through the neck, where his armor didn’t reach. As thoughtless as striking a training dummy. After that, the whole thing ended as suddenly as it started, with the remaining bandits taking off as soon as they knew I was there.”

“My perspective changed a lot that day. My father survived but was crippled by his injuries, and I shudder to think what my poor sister would have endured if she was abducted. Before, I was content living in the temple, studying and practicing for its own sake. But after that, I couldn’t help but imagine the plight of all the people out there who have no temple to protect them. If this could happen here, how badly did they suffer out there? Besides, I had demonstrated to my own satisfaction that I could handle myself in a real battle. So, some time later, I decided to leave the temple and my hometown to do something about the injustices happening in the wider world. The other monks questioned my confidence in this decision, but they didn’t try to stop me.”

“Surely, you can guess how it goes after this. I fought some bandits and some corrupt clans. Travelling wherever I was needed brought me across the border into Casperus, where I met Octavia and her guild. The rest is history. Now, you didn’t ask, but here’s the thing the stories don’t tell you. That part about violence being easy, I was so wrong about that. As it turns out, being undaunted and unfeeling in the moment doesn’t stop me from being haunted by the memories of all the blood I’ve shed. In fact, the more I fought, the more that state of mind started to scare me. If I can kill my enemies without hesitation or remorse, how do I know that I won’t kill an innocent on a whim one day?”

“Over time, as I became more hesitant to use it, the stakes became more dire, so I had little choice but to keep doing it. By the end, I had to stay in that detached state all the time, because I feared that I would break if I let myself feel anything. I don’t think my comrades even knew what I was going through, since I was covering it up so hard. When it was all over and the world was saved, well, I did break for a while. I’ve picked myself up a few times at this point, tried to get back into healthy habits, but I always break down again. That’s why I’m done being a hero. That part I’ve accepted. I’m just not sure what else to do with my life yet.”

She picks up the bottle from the table and takes a big gulp of the rice wine inside, then sighs as the alcohol burns her throat. “Look at me, sharing things I didn’t mean to share. Do with that what you will. Just don’t make me look too bad, okay?”

I would have never guessed. And what were your relationships with your comrades, are you still friends? Maybe lovers? Bitter rivals? How do you see them in your eyes?

(TBD)

So that's how you worked with each other, and how was your relationship with Madame Ravenwood? Nothing but good I hope.

(TBD, need Octavia lore)

I see, and.....did you know?

“Excuse me?”

Did you even guess, did you even have the slightest idea?

“Um…”

Do you even realize the amount of shit you heroes are in?

What made you think you could defeat him so easily? WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT US SO EASILY?

We almost did it, almost, but then you heroes and that bitch! Well no matter, you and your comrades will get yours soon enough!

YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT HIM, DEFEAT US! NEVER! (que explosion with lots of blood and a little guts)

Even with her senses dulled by alcohol, Shiri instinctively leaps back from the sudden threat, avoiding the brunt of the splatter. Her landing is less graceful, as she insistently guards her bottle from spilling at the cost of her own balance. She stumbles over her own fallen chair and bangs into another nearby table, bowling over the surrounding chairs while she slides down and plants her butt hard on the wooden floor. She then blinks as she wipes a drop of blood off her cheek. “Really? After I bare my heart to you like that? Bastard,” she mumbles before taking another gulp from her bottle.

Excuse me sir, might you be one of the heroes from legend? Good turn to you, I have travelled-"

With a crackle of arcane energy, the dark figure looked up from the mess of scrolls and tomes they had been hunched over. Behind the lank strands of his black hair, his eyes were narrowed in suspicion and hostility, a fell and malicious invocation held ready cast in his right hand.

"Who are you and how the hell did you get into my sanctum?"

WAIT WAIT WAIT! Please great hero might you lend me your ear? I have travelled far and wide to hear your tale, my only wish is to tell your story. True, I suppose if I wanted to know of various deeds I could just visit my local tavern or library, but to get it from the horse's mouth, now that would be a treat, far better than any old watered down story you hear on the streets, wouldn't you agree?

"I don't agree. Get out of here. Leave me alone."

But surely you would appreciate the chance to set the record straight? Clear up any misconceptions and falsehoods that have sprung up in the wake of your glorious deeds?"

"Glorious deeds?" He laughed, it was not a pleasant sound. "I don't remember many of those. Though there are plenty of misconceptions and falsehoods, and a few outright lies."

He paused for a moment, staring at the reporter, thought not really looking at him, rather beyond him, before closing his hand and releasing whatever spell had been held there. With it, a strange sense darkness fled from the chamber, the many candle stubs that lined its cluttered surfaces returning to their usual brightness. He stood up from the work desk, stretching stiffly as he did so.

"Fine, ask your questions. You have until I get bored of this."

Oh you will? Joyous occasion! You shan't regret this my friend, I promise you!

The figure fixed the reporter with a look that suggested that he was already regretting this.

Now then, What is your name?

"You came all this way to ask me my name? Fine, fine, I guess I did just agree to this." He sighed. "Eskel Rindarium, the sage of Ilmare, although I hear some fools have taken to calling the Mad Mage as of late."

Splendid, and your age?

"Wait... what year is it again?" He quickly did some math on his fingers. "Twenty-Nine, if I have the date right."

He looked older. There were streaks of premature grey in his hair, lines on his brow and around his mouth, dark circles beneath his eyes. None of those were there a few years ago, and made Eskel easily pass for almost a decade older than he actually was.

Fantastic, and your gender good hero?

"...Really?" He rolled his eyes. "Male."

Excellent and of course I know what you look like, but for the sake of our readers?

"Why, tall, dark and handsome of course." He answered with a snort. "Look, you can describe me yourself, or do you really want to keep wasting your time with these banalities?"

Eskel was certainly dark, and he might have once been considered quite handsome. He was pale, fine featured, with shoulder length black hair shot through with a scattering of grey. An old scar ran through his left brow and into the eye below, blinding it into milky white, the other eye was a brown so dark it almost looked black.

He was of average height and a light build. Previously he could have been described as lithe, but now he gave of the impression of being gaunt. In the past his features were perpetually twisted into some kind of smirk, but these days he rarely smiled. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept properly in weeks, and was so pale it was clear he hadn't left the darkness of his rooms for even longer.

Even those who hadn't know him before would think that he looked unwell. Something only be confirmed the bandages that covered his left arm that were peaking out from the end of his sleeve.

Excellent Excellent, and how do you act on most days, you know, your mannerisms, your quirks and such. What makes you, you?

"Well, I've been told I have something of an abrasive manner, if you hadn't already guessed that. I don't suffer fools or idiots lightly. People and their petty concerns do not interest me, that's why I make my home out here away from the ignorant masses. I can focus on my work here, my research, without any meddling interference or distractions. I guess you could say I'm solitary in my nature."

Mhm, and your abilities magical or otherwise? If you use magic, what is your discipline? do you use it for battle, defense, healing?

"Frankly I probably know more about most types of magic than you could possibly comprehend. But my specialty has always been in summoning, the act of controlling the passage of people and powers from one plane of existence to another. Whether that is to draw something from across the gulf between worlds to our own, or seal and banish it back to its own realm. It's very complicated, I doubt you'd understand."

"My current research is just an extension of the same principles, and a unification of some other arts. What is death other than another plane of existence? The body but a construct for the soul to inhabit? Where does the physician end and the necromancer begin? It's just another reordering of spirit and matter between between worlds, these foolish labels and taboos just get in the way of a holistic understanding of life and death."

"Most of your kind think simple teleportation is the height of what we can do, and that only requires transportation of mind and matter across one plane, let alone... Oh never mind, the theoretical background I would have to spell out for you to even participate in this conversation is not a good use of my time."

Yes Yes, and before everything that transpired, what was your life like? Who were you?

"Oh, I was a product of the mage schools of Bradena. The old kind, that we had after the rebellion. Plenty of corporal punishment and indoctrinated self loathing. Never did me any harm, I turned out just fine." He laughed again at that, it was even less pleasant than before. "My gifts manifested young, I was scarce out of cradle when my parents dumped me on the threshold and abandoned me there. Part of the reason I'm one of the most gifted mages of his generation, the alignment of natural talent and a rigorous education."

"Of course I left as soon as I was able, and supported my continued research through the odd mercenary contract. Monster slayers are always on the lookout for someone who can cast a six hells trigram planar binding. That's how I met her... Octavia..."

I would have never guessed, and what were your relationships with your comrades, are you still friends? Maybe lovers? Bitter rivals? How do you see them in your eyes?

"I don't see much of them these days. It might have something to do with the fact I called them all traitorous cowards who lacked the resolve to do what needed to be done. They failed Octavia, we all did. I'm the only one trying to make things right."

So that's how you worked with each other, and how was your relationship with Madame Ravenwood? Nothing but good I hope.

"She was the best of us. I... I miss her deeply."

He looked like he had something more to say but could not bring himself to form the words. A terrible and desperate longing rose up from the inky depths of his one good eye. An unspoken need for something that had been forever pushed beyond his grasp.

I see, and.....did you know?

The question seemed to pull him out of his absent reverie.

Did you even guess, did you even have the slightest idea?

"Guess, guess what?"

Do you even realize the amount of shit you heroes are in?

A cold and horrible understanding began to dawn upon Eskel's face. There had been wards set around his tower, strong ones, how had a mere journalist managed to navigate his way through them?

What made you think you could defeat him so easily? WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT US SO EASILY?

"Impossible." He whispered. "I designed that seal myself. It was meant to hold for a thousand years."

We almost did it, almost, but then you heroes and that bitch! well no matter, you and your comrades will get yours soon enough!

Anger flared inside of him. He began to speak an twisted invocation that he would have never even dared to utter a few years previously.

YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT HIM, DEFEAT US! NEVER!

He released the spell. All the lights in the room went out, the thing before him dropped to floor as a smoking desiccated husk. He could feel blood trickling on his hand, the wounds on his arm had opened up again. As he relit the candles with a wave of his hand he stared once more at the corpse at his feet.

"You will not speak of her in that manner."