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Aaaaand that's a wrap for muh collabs. What else is left on your end, Est?

A couple things to note in your direction as well, @Crusader Lord.
itselff covered in arcane runes and so forth, but for all anyone knew it was simply a cool-looking sphere that did nothing.

If the core is literally covered in arcane runes, and a child can learn magic directly from it, why would anyone else be oblivious to the fact that it wasn't just a cool-looking sphere? As well, to note, Althius is specifically a portion of the ocean, not a portion of land. I'm guess you meant the orb to have been found on either the Grand Banks or Agrovia then? Might wanna figure out why an elf was so far away from home, when Arrowfell as a province was never at peace and Aethera is on the other side of the map.

Might be good to clarify as well just how old elves can even be. You've mentioned centuries, but on the other hand, elven advisors from Aethera are literally only 30 years old, with Safina being the oldest known elf at 146. Also should probs have a ready answer for why he didn't just kill himself after being free of his 'master'. It was only in the last 22 years that there was peace in Arrowfell, so prior to that, it's fairly likely that a potent caster like himself would be thrust into the battlefield or find himself in a position to train kiddos to be sent off into the battlefield.


And I guess since its a yapping day today, I'll toss up my own thoughts on teleportation:

Teleportation can only be utilized on willing targets in most cases. Exceptions are made for Mirie's Seed, Kronos (because lolPC), and the undead (they don't die from getting their MP bars drained to non-existence). This is mostly used because even teleportation near the ground is pretty fatal. Think about any situation where you just teleport an armored person into the ocean, or a swamp, or literally anything that you plan on teleporting people on top of to kill them.

Teleportation mana cost and spell complexity ramps up exponentially as you try to include more people into it. Set it to an upper limit of 10 people, for practical purposes, so no group of mages is out there teleporting armies into capitals and all that. Due to that same complexity, one can say that it's fairly easy to ward a place against teleportation, so you don't have people teleporting bombs into bedrooms for a quick laugh, unless you specifically use Mirie's Seed.

Portals are more costly to maintain than singular instances of teleportation spells, and in almost all cases, are simply not worth it. I'd say it'd make sense to have it be that portal magic only exists via using Dremora's Shade as a medium, meaning that unless you're Melisande (Kronos-assisted hijinks means the side effects are bypassed) or Evelyn (Seed bullshit do be like that), opening a portal is inviting in the demons. The advantage of portals, ofc, is that you can remotely send magic through it, and you can look through the portal before you step into it. Due to associations with Dremora's Shade, church magic can fairly easily break it to bits.

The nobility of Arrowfell have had access to teleportation magic for the last century or so, but its been fairly finicky and there's always the chance of teleporting to the other side in bits and goopy pieces. Only recently (within the last ten years) has it been useful enough to utilize for transportation by the nobility, but while you can teleport somewhere instantly, the mage doing so would be unable to teleport you back until a day later...and, ofc, that mage needs to be with you in order to do so. As such, when matters aren't pressing, it's more likely the case that nobles would travel to a location via carriage, while keeping a teleportation mage (call em a 'porter') on hand to teleport them back home, if there's any possibility of danger.

Guess in terms of rarity, you could say that the number of mages capable of actually performing feats of cross-province teleportation are more rare than Seeds at this rate, and it could be deduced that Ravenfell's deathlessness allowed them to work around the usual costs and difficulties of learning teleportation magic.

//Church of the All-Force, Hathforth
@Estylwen

A couple of things to note, Est.

I’m pretty sure Chunji transformed himself into a rat? Might want to confirm with Thousand there.

As well, all the cameras in the tower are currently expelling lights…except for on the third floor, as Otis doesn’t have access to those.
Speech to text program gogogo.
Surely imbuing the essence of Dremora into a weapon blessed by the All-Force will have no consequences whatsoever!
We're all playing chess, but he's the football player who calls us nerds.
Ey Psykers, we can do the interrogation and the rest of the planning segment of the heist in the pad. Will set up a separate pad for the actual enacting of the heist, probably alongside the whole Sev execution thing.

Also, if Callum joined the Sparrows, he can have all the fun he wants rooting out the Clandestine.

Also, I've no problems with the opening post for Sev's moment.


“You shouldn’t be too disappointed, Lamont.”

Crimson reflected off Duke Rhinecliff’s spectacles as he looked up towards the throne.

“I hope you understand though, that with this rejection, it’ll be up to you to handle Evelyn’s pet leviathan.”

And with that, space rent and twisted, clockwise sigils translocating them to a place of sky and sea.



“Magic Shield, Barricade.”

Before he could even get his bearings, Laurent had cast his spell, his feet landing upon the arcane barrier he had transfixed around him. The paralysis that the Ghost King’s mages had placed upon them all had made it easy to gauge the necessary distances to create platforms for the others, but as he squinted away the light-blindness and looked around, it appeared that Melisande and Duchess Agustria were already gone, leaving only the Court Mage and Duchess Bastille, as well as their respective entourages, suspended over the waters off Hathforth’s coast.

He had half-expected to have been transported over a ravine or a volcano, really, but perhaps Lamont preferred to draw things out. A greater shame, too, that he had lost the ghost-blade in trying to make a point, and didn’t even get to witness whether it truly lived up to its name as a Leviathan-Bane.

This is why you’re ill-suited for heroic gestures, Laurent.

But a ruler couldn’t be in the shadows forever, no? And regardless, though he had lost, he had also gained.

“Advisor Blackthorne, would this suffice in proving my loyalty to the current order? Though I suppose, as any fast-climbing official would, loyalty matters less compared to self-interest.” The Duke smiled, a flash of youthful mischief over his features, like sharing a secret between two friends. “We should have tea some time, while I’m in Hathforth for Willowsteel’s punishment.”

More arcane shields lined up, a spiraling staircase to bring both himself and Duchess Bastille as they met above the cresting waves of the ocean. In the distance, it no doubt made for a most curious scene for Hathforth’s coast guard to come across.

“Your new friends, I do believe, will be apt for ridding our Province of Lamont’s hands, but more work, undoubtedly, will have to be done. So, Duchess Bastille, while the Queen is out on vacation, what are your thoughts on some…poaching?”

It was about time they started looking into exactly what monsters dwelt within the Glasic Fields, that had only sprung into existence two years prior.



To be the head butler of a ducal household, one needed to, at a bare minimum, know how to fulfill every one of their master’s orders to an extent beyond that master’s expectations.

As such, it had been a long time since Auguste Koscielny truly felt like he was a head butler.

Tall and always well-groomed, he had been promoted into the position after the previous head-butler was forcibly retired by Duke Rhinecliff, and though he possessed some sense of the man the Duke was while working as a regular servant of the household, it was still a terrible thing to experience once the responsibilities truly fell upon him. About the only thing that distinguished Auguste from the other servants was the fact that he handled the payroll and did some minor rescheduling when there was a particular function or one of the household staff took leave. The feasts were, by Duke Rhinecliff’s own request, meant to be simple and elegant. The celebrations were muted affairs, for livelier occasions could be enjoyed within Odonfield itself.

Really, was he a head butler, or was he just an accountant? All the prestige of being the head butler of House Rhinecliff, and yet if he were to suddenly lose his job, what would he even be able to say? That he organized the kinds of events and social functions that even a Baron could afford?

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but the point remained, that Auguste Koscielny never had a chance to really prove that he was as capable a head butler as the legendary Jasper Whistlelock, who had seen House Rhinecliff through the last throes of the Duchal Wars, the Reign of King Ludwig, and the Wizard-Queen’s Coup!

He did want that chance, truly.



Though he sure as fuck didn’t want to prove his capability by being kidnapped!
I should lock in and get muh work in soon huh...
Aaand a quick one out.
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