Scribe of Thoth

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Glynwood Academy Grounds

_{Sunday, the 21st of the Third Pyric Moon, RY 3418}

Dreary summer rains dominated the skies of the Realm's northwestern coast, foreshadowing the end of summer and the encroaching chill of fall, yet above the caldera that housed the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies, the afternoon sun shone as brightly as ever. Such inauspicious weather simply wouldn't do to usher in the new academic year, and it was promptly corrected before the first drop of water fell from the sky. Between the parted clouds, great whirls of Ouranic mana descended before coming to rest in glittering magelights that danced just above the surface of the lake, illuminating the path for the incoming class as they rode the ferry to the campus proper. The nearest town and static teleportation point outside the campus, a quaint little village of humble magi called Pebblebrook, had thankfully enjoyed the protection of Glynwood's sphere of influence against the rain, and it was from here that the young spellcasters of Glynwood's freshman class departed by cart earlier that morning on their ceremonial trek to the Great Gate.

Despite the weariness of travel hanging over the students' heads, exclamations of awe and excitement filled the air as the ferry drew near to the island at last, and all were ushered off the boat and into single-file lines before three makeshift kiosks, each manned with a chipper mage and an enchanted tome to admit the new arrivals and assign them their cohorts. Beyond, a waiting crowd of human staff and golems alike sprung into action as they began the process of transporting student luggage to their new dormitories.

Across the courtyard, upperclassmen spared only a curious glance or two toward the gathering as they trickled in from an enchanted archway to the wide double doors of the feasting hall, mixed in with flashes of sympathy or haughty condescension at the new arrivals that had to walk like commoners. Once past the entryway, the freshman class was led not toward the hall with their more senior peers, but instead into a smaller audience room, decorated finely enough to match any Pontaion nobleman's ballroom. Motes of flame traced lazy circles through the air above, lighting what the magnificent stained glass windows could not. A string quartet's gentle tune carried across the room above the chatter of students and staff alike, originating from a set of rune-etched instruments that levitated in place as they played of their own accord. Tables of refreshments lined the walls, leading to a grand stage at the far end of the room, where several magi stood in idle boredom before commencement of the opening address. Dedicated followers of obscure academia or Glynwood personnel might recognize a few, but only the most isolated could possibly miss the man standing center stage. Second Battlemage Renault Auristel had graced the assembly with his presence, distracted though he might've been in a quiet conversation with a quaintly amused looking blonde woman some might recognize as Vice-Chancellor Victoria Charbeneau.

This fact did not go unnoticed; between the assemblies of Cohorts Seven and Eight, a spirited discussion raged between two chatty students.

"D'you hear that rumor about Professor Charbeneau and Auristel?" The boy from Cohort Eight asked in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, "I didn't believe it, but look at that."

"I dunno," the other student, Blake, answered skeptically before he whirled around to tactlessly accost a nearby young mage with cerulean hair and oversized glasses, "Hey, Theo, are Charbeneau and Auristel fucking?"

The bespectacled mage seemed to wither at the question. "Please don't ask me about his sex life, he's like an older brother to me."

"So yes."

"That is not what I said," Theo bristled in response, but Blake had already turned back to his theorizing.

"Oh, let the boys gossip," a nearby girl chimed in, "It's not true, anyway. Riiiight?"

Unfortunately for her, Theo offered only a weary glare in lieu of a response. Dionysia shrugged innocently and turned her attention back to the stage, where a lanky man with a spring in his step made his way across at last. A sudden silence fell across the room - the music stopped, and the conversation died down to muted whispers almost immediately. Not on the part of the student body, however; anyone still talking would find their voice greatly muffled, even if they were to scream as loud as they could.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think everyone's arrived, and I'd hate to keep you any longer than I have to," the recent arrival to the stage chirped exuberantly, his voice carrying across the room despite - or perhaps because of - the enchantment acting upon the student body. "I am Chancellor Albrecht Nortwin, and I would like to be among the first to formally welcome you to the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies! For the first in many years, we once again have the honor of hosting students from every corner of our great nation and, as ever, I see before me a sea of potential. I'm sure you've all heard of some changes to our curriculum this year, but make no mistake; our commitment to the education of the Realm's finest minds remains as firm as ever. And, on that note, I'd like to take a moment to thank Second Battlemage Renault Auristel for his generous acceptance to teach at our fine institution."

The rest of the staff members politely clapped as Auristel bowed for the crowd, which provoked swooning looks and thinly-veiled glares from the incoming class in equal measure. This fact didn't seem to go unnoticed by Chancellor Nortwin, whose face slipped into a pensive frown for but a moment before it sprung back to its prior enthusiasm.

"In these tumultuous times, I believe it's more important than ever that we remember the ideals of our founder, Theodoric Glynwood, who urged us to put aside our differences and petty politicking and stand together as magi, that we may build a brighter future for the Republic through education," Nortwin continued, a bit more solemnly than before, "So, when you look upon your classmates and those in your cohorts, I urge you to dwell not upon the conflicts of our past, but on the future that you wish to create instead. Thank you." Once again, the staff politely clapped, along with the majority of the assembled students. It was plain to see from a couple of the faces in the crowd that not everyone found the sentiment of the speech particularly inspiring, and more than a few grumbles of 'necromancer' and 'traitor' could be heard floating around underneath the cacophony of clapping hands.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to come up with another speech for your upperclassmen," the chancellor followed up tactlessly, "Vice-Chancellor Charbeneau, if you would?"

The woman in question merely sighed as Nortwin departed at a hurried pace. Her lips moved as though she had mumbled something, and Auristel barely caught himself from letting out an amused snort as Charbeneau made her way to the front of the stage.

"Thank you, Chancellor. It certainly is hard to follow a speech like that. Students, make sure to see your cohort overseers before you leave for information about your dormitories." As Victoria spoke, several professors descended from the stage, one for each of the assembled cohorts. A bored-looking man with wavy black hair took his place before Cohort Seven, passing a critical glance over the students under his charge before his attention drifted back to Charbeneau.

"Members of the staff will also be standing by to help acquaint you with the campus and answer any questions you may have. You'll find your student handbooks and class schedules already delivered to your rooms. Classes start first thing tomorrow morning, but until then, please feel free to mingle and enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day. Once again, on behalf of all of us here at Glynwood, I'd like to congratulate you all on your acceptance and welcome you to our academy. Thank you."

Upon their dismissal, the crowd dispersed; some eager to be the first to greet their new cohort leaders, others more concerned with the tantalizing spread of food that they'd been so rudely denied upon entry. Whatever magically induced silence had taken hold of the hall before was gone, and the air was once again abuzz with chatter and music.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Alright, since everybody’s more or less in, I’m gonna call it a couple days early.

@Obscene Symphony @Light @Hero @Achronum @Crowvette
You guys are all good to go.

@Crusader Lord
There’s a handful of minor inconsistencies in your backstory like some of the years not lining up (which I’m assuming are from the edits) but she’s accepted after those are fixed.

@Dead Cruiser
Raisin Bran is fine with the caveat that, while I don’t have a problem with the magic section as written, I’m interpreting it as her having a grasp of the fundamentals of all those fields and isn’t particularly proficient in more than a couple.

Either way, y’all can throw them in the character tab. I’ll have the IC up in a couple days.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Alright now that I actually did more than skim the sheets, a couple nitpicks.

@Lewascan2 For starters, inducing early noesis is a quick way to make manaburn barbeque out of your kid, assuming one understood the process enough to even try, and soul alteration in general rarely leads to anything positive for the one being altered. Seems like a massive risk to take for a mere ~3-4 years of extra magical training that's probably wasted on a 7 year old that won't understand any of it anyway.

The magic section is also well beyond what an 18 year old mage would be capable of; even expert necromancers have a hard time finely commanding scores of undead beyond giving vague directions to the entire shambling horde at once. Same with unraveling other mages' spells and reshaping biology, which are other schools of magic entirely and usually have a High Magic component. As for the whole ghost part, trying to pull a spirit or some semblance of a lingering essence from a dead body only works if it has freshly died, otherwise the soul would have vacated its earthly fetters by then and be unretrievable. Spirits rarely linger unless acted upon by magic designed to do so. Likewise, the rest of her skillset is way too broad and developed for a teenager, let alone one that was a child soldier. Only so many hours in a day and whatnot.

As for the items, the whole crypt is pretty much out the window in terms of enchantment complexity. It'd take a team of archmages to run something like that long-term and it definitely wouldn't be portable. The staff's fine, but the part about self-maintenance doesn't work. Luckily staves are pretty hardy and only substantially degrade after prolonged use or in absolutely massive spells that are probably worth melting a staff or two in the long run.

@Hero Not sure which one you're using yet but depending on the size/complexity and autonomy of Diana's magic constructs, that's a totally different field than generic elemental magic and likewise gets more complex the more elements you throw in. It works for Phoebus since he's only working with a single element (or whatever you consider plants) but most golemancers (placeholder term, don't quote me on that) stick with one or two elements, typically of the same state of matter, to start with. For example, the act of puppeting an ice construct and a stone construct are fairly similar, one made of fire and one made of stone aren't.

@Crimson Flame Minor gripe, and I get that's your gimmick and all, but I'd prefer an actual picture. Also, where'd you pull a goddess from? Even humanizing the world soul as a sort of earth mother figure wouldn't give you a tangible entity to commune with.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Fair enough! Does this place still have some room, or are you full?

@Crusader Lord

Not accepting anybody until the deadline because I'm a procrastinator, go ahead and throw a sheet in if you want.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

@Scribe of Thoth Thoth AND another mage-related RP?! :O

...As an aside, how often do you expect people who join here to post? Just to ask the question in general as a passing curious traveler on the Guild.

@Crusader Lord

Once a week-ish. I say "ish" because everyone knows "strict weekly posting schedule" devolves into "eh, when you feel like it" about two months into RPs here anyway.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Faculty

...	Academy Staff
.............................................................	Albrecht Nortwin Chancellor Ouranian Eccentric and carefree, Chancellor Nortwin is paradoxically the last person you'd expect to be in charge of an esteemed academic institution yet also fits the bill perfectly. Such is the strength of the mana in his veins that even nearly halfway through his third century, Nortwin's youthful exuberance has yet to fade, and he seems to be making the most of it while it lasts. Despite his fits of whimsy, he keeps the magelights on and the academy running smoothly (though it's debatable how much of that is due to Nortwin's influence and how much can be attributed to the rest of the administrative faculty) and is always willing to hear a student out. It was his decision to begin the instruction of dark magic within Glynwood's halls and his approval that allowed the Magisterium's battlemage preparatory program to be tested at the institute, for better or for worse. There's a local rumor that any time someone mentions that they think he should step down as head of the university, Nortwin will miraculously know and do something controversial soon after. Aura: A brilliant sunburst of white light that separates into a kaleidoscopic array of colors at the fringes, accompanied by the faint sounds of a phantom violin. ............................................................................
.............................................................	Renault Auristel Overseer of War Magic Curriculum Second Battlemage Ouranian The current darling of the Magisterium political scene, Second Battlemage Auristel first came into the public eye after his first defeat of rebel leader Solomon Anedor and has only grown in popularity since. Though only a hundred and four years of age, he used his unique style of pyromancy to great effect against the undead hordes of the secessionists and the necromancers that controlled them alike, and his exemplary service record quickly earned him renown amongst other magi. After the final defeat of Anedor, many were under the belief that his meteoric rise to power would culminate in Auristel claiming the vacant seat on the Heptarchy, and it came as a surprise to all when he resigned himself to education of all things. Some believe that he was assigned to oversee the Realm's new battlemage preparatory program strategically in order to curtail his growing influence, while others believe he chose the post of his own volition. Whatever the truth, he has been known to take an interest in pre-Republic historical sites, like those found in the ruins upon which Glynwood sits. Aura: A bonfire of golden flames that fan out at their apex like the wings of a phoenix.
.............................................................	Nicodemos Selendor Third Battlemage Tellurian Renault Auristel's second-in-command and accomplished battlemage in his own right, Nicodemos accompanies Renault as surely as his own shadow does. An apt comparison in many respects, as the taciturn umbramancer lacks the force of personality that Auristel does, and much prefers lurking in the background while Renault leads from the front in all his shining glory. Word is that they've been joined at the hip ever since their own academy years, and Renault's tenure at Glynwood is no exception, even if Selendor does consider it a waste of their talents. Aura: Shadows that flow like ink in sluggish undulations around him. Gazing within gives one the distinct feeling that they are being watched.
.............................................................	Victoria Charbeneau Vice-Chancellor Artifice & Pyromancy Instructor Ouranian The heiress to one of the Realm's largest suppliers of crystallized magicite, a key ingredient in runic engravings on many enchantments, Vice-Chancellor Charbeneau is well established in nearly every corner of Cresvald. She remains professional and polite in even the most unpleasant interactions, rarely letting anything disrupt her poker face, but make no mistake; her reputation for utterly ruthless business acumen is well-founded, and to draw her ire is to invite swift and decisive retribution. Her foray into education has been described by herself as a whim that every magistrix gets eventually, to pass on her knowledge to an apprentice or two. Or several hundred. While it's no secret that her administrative position was earned by merit of being one of the academy's largest donors, her extensive knowledge of all things in her field gifts Glynwood with a very comprehensive artifice program, and her Advanced Pyromancy seminar is considered among the best elemental courses at the academy by upperclassmen. Aura: Dancing motes of light that dart about like a swarm of fireflies in a strangely hypnotic pattern.
.............................................................	Varen Galenos Transmutation Instructor Cohort VII Overseer Tellurian The only battlemage on staff whose time at Glynwood preceded Auristel's arrival, Varen formerly worked security for a reclusive Prefect in the east, only to shift career focus upon her death. The complexity of most transmutation courses usually reserves them for upperclassman, so he's hardly thrilled about having to oversee a new cohort of freshmen this year. While aloof, he's not outright dismissive, and he takes his job as an educator as seriously as his old vocation. His advice on magic might seem a bit more tailored to dueling than more scholarly pursuits, but he's seen enough magi over his career to offer at least passingly relevant commentary on nearly any field. Aura: A turbulent whirlpool of deep ocean water, whose waves seem to form into blades at their crest.
.............................................................	Beatrix Dorne High Magic Instructor Tellurian A friendly and cheerful woman, Beatrix tries her best to make the lofty heights of High Magic accessible to novice magi, and encourage them to delve deeper into the field rather than wallow in the slums of low magic forever like some people. Like most High Mages of renown, she has a bit of an ego when it comes to her field, and derides aural magic as quaint at best, believing a mage's true potential lies in advanced rituals that throttle the heavens themselves. Beatrix personally oversees most modifications to the local weather around the academy, and can often be talked into revealing the forecast before the schedule has been officially posted. Her voice can often be heard through the halls, bickering with her husband about the merits of High Magic and its practicality in everyday situations. She swears they aren't even married. Aura: A geyser of mana that shifts between shades of pinks and lavenders. Complex runic patterns trace themselves into the air around her, only to be washed away by the upwelling as they near completion.
.............................................................	Caleb Dorne General Elementalism Instructor Ouranian A mischevious man who seems to enjoy getting a rise out of people, the other Professor Dorne couldn't be further from his wife. Most of the academy's elemental magic curriculum falls under his purview, and its ubiquity among the magical population (unfortunately) makes Caleb one of the most present influences on Glynwood students over the course of their education. Nevertheless, he's quite popular, much to his wife's consternation, and he's often seen arguing with her about the pragmatic superiority of "low magic" to stuffy rituals that take all day to cast. He will call you a nerd if he catches you reading from a spellbook. Be warned. Aura: A chaotic tempest of all four classical elements, all clashing against each other explosively as they fight for dominance of the field.
.............................................................	James Finnigan Abjuration & Binding Instructor Tellurian Formerly a witchhunter for the Magisterium, Finnigan retired from a long career of hunting down lawbreaking mages in favor of scaring the next generation into compliance. Or trying to, at least. His teaching is blunt and no-nonsense; if a student does something stupid, he'll tell them in no uncertain terms that such a mistake could wind up getting them killed in a real altercation. Despite his gruff exterior, however, James Finnigan is ever the advocate of public safety, and ensures no student leaves Glynwood's hallowed halls without the confidence and ability to protect themselves in the event they run into trouble, even if he has to hound them for their entire tenure. Aura: A field of rattling, ethereal chains within a swirl of fog, each engraved with runes of binding.
.............................................................	Darius Melcroft Dark Magic Instructor Ouranian As a common born mage hailing from a small archipelago off the western coast of Cresvald, Darius has little public history from which to draw from, even for a dark mage. His extensive knowledge of necromancy allegedly comes from an apprenticeship in his home prefecture, though he will not name his teacher if pressed, and he presumably fought in the war in some capacity on the rebel side. Beyond that, the man is an enigma; stoic and flat in his interactions and rarely offering more information than necessary. Naturally, his arrival at Glynwood has been fraught with controversy over his potential political allegiances and preferred style of magic, not at all aided by his ever-present mask similar to those worn by the upstart Sons of Anedor. Aura: A roiling cloud of ash. From within, flashes of eerie light can be seen blinking in and out of existence like lightning in a far off storm cloud.
.............................................................	Rudolf Burglund Adjunct Professor of Arcane Theory Tellurian With a mere thirty-seven years under his belt and an uncanny tendency to accidentally sneak up on people, Rudolf seems to have little business in an instructional position among magi many decades his senior. Or he would, were he not a magical prodigy for all intents and purposes, even if he doesn't believe so himself. He hails from a line of prestigious battlemagi, though you'd never guess from interacting with one so soft-spoken and nonconfrontational, and it's presumed to be no coincidence that he was hired by the academy concurrently with the introduction of their battlemage preparatory curriculum. Accusations of nepotism certainly aren't helped by the fact that Rudolf is a terrible educator that's far too meek to command a classroom. Nevertheless, he's an extremely talented caster for his age - the knowledge is clearly there, he just doesn't stutter it out right. Aura: Tongues of deep purple mana that enfold around him like the petals of a rose.
.............................................................	Hieronymous Symbelion Divination & Astromancy Instructor Ouranian Ancient. Wise. Powerful. Hieronymous is everything a mage could be - should be. Nearing an extraordinary five hundred years of age, the elderly man knows he does not have much time left, and thus he aims to spread his immense knowledge with a fervor unmatched by his younger years. Rumor is he foresaw his own death, but it's far more likely that he simply realizes that few reach his age and fewer still surpass it. Ever the scholar, Hieronymous served a brief tenure as Prefect in a heartland province about two centuries ago before stepping down after a mere eight months, claiming governance distracted him from his studies. Apparently it was not in jest, as one could fill a book with a list of all his publications nearly as long as the publications themselves. Aura: A cloud of multicolored astral mist, like a luminous nebula localized around him. Gazing within, one can see the semblance of ghostly figures in the gaseous swirls, their eyes twinkling like stars, though no two people report seeing exactly the same thing inside the fog, even if viewing it from the same angle.
.............................................................	Portia Meliae Botanical Magic & Alchemy Instructor Tellurian Perhaps famous as the author of From Seed To Paradise, a staple in modern botanomantic terraforming concepts, Portia served as a senior consultant for the Bureau of Terraforming and Climate Manipulation for much of her life. Academy staff note that the Belworth case has recently sent her into a bit of a melancholy - not the trial per se, but the events leading up to it. While otherwise reserved and studious, she has some strong opinions about the Bureau's management of the situation and maintains the entire scenario could've been avoided. Fortunately, she avoids being roped into any political discussion on the matter despite this perceived sympathy for Belworth by taking a strongly anti-necromantic stance. Nobody likes arguing politics with a centrist. Aura: A gentle viridian glow, breached by rays of light like sunbeams from above. The smell of fresh soil emerges when the aura is first manifested, only to be overtaken by fresh floral scents over time. ............................................................................

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

Students

...	Cohort VII
.............................................................	Blake Karcyl Ouranian Hailing from one of the rebel prefectures in the southwest, Blake is understandably tight-lipped about his origins and family. One might think he wasn't from a mage family at all, if not for his frequent usage of his family's distinct brand of severing magic that he wields as surely as any blade. In fact, that's just about the only magic he seems to wield, and he's got the cuts all over his arms from spells gone wrong to prove it. Nevertheless, he's quite competitive, whether from a perceived need to prove himself or something else, though he usually keeps it good-natured and sporting. Aura: Ripples that slice through the air like blades in wild rotations around him. Subtle ribbons of red mana trail behind, as if the air itself were bleeding in their path. ............................................................................
.............................................................	Dionysia Abernick Tellurian The daughter of a well-off mundane merchant, Dionysia understands little of the concepts of magic beyond those which enter the mercantile sector. She has no aspirations of ruling prefectures from atop her lofty tower or discovering a workaround to bypass the limitations of the Third Law of Arcanodynamics, and knows she will likely end up as a mere cog in the magical machine, albeit a gilded one. And there's nothing wrong with that. A bit of a scatterbrain, Dionysia nevertheless has quite a talent for alchemy, at least with the fundamental reagents she can get her hands on. Quite convenient, given how popular of a commodity potions were back home. Aura: Gnarled, thorny tendrils surrounded by a swirl of autumn leaves caught on the wind and accompanied by pungent herbal scents.
.............................................................	Theophilos Selendor Tellurian As the younger brother of a Third Battlemage, Theo is no stranger to magical academia, even at his young age. Though seemingly not following in his brother's footsteps, he had no qualms about exploiting his connections; Theo graduated from a prestigious boarding school in the heartland as a promising young diviner and astromancer, well ahead of his less privileged peers in magical development. Despite this, he lacks the arrogance and typical upper class personality flaws common to many in his position, and is generally very polite and agreeable, if a bit weary of being hounded for celebrity gossip. Aura: A veil of darkening blue twilight drawn about him, dotted with motes of silver light like stars in the night sky.

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies - For all your anime magic academy RP needs

Too many people to tag but the OOC is up

The Glynwood Institute For Thaumaturgical Studies

“Aged slabs of ancient stone paved the road to Glynwood, a long march that ended atop the hill at a massive archway of solid gold. The Great Gate, they called it. Though we had since left the forest behind, the path was still overgrown in places with moss and shrubbery as a testament to its disuse. No surprise; no one in their right mind would take this route, but, as first year students, we were required to make the trek at least once. In all the time we’d traveled, I had yet to catch even a glimpse of the school; as we summited the hill, it became clear as to why. The ground fell away into a vast basin, a monumental crater that descended sharply into a lake fed by the biggest waterfall I’d ever seen on the far ridge. What initially appeared as stone reliefs chiseled into the cliffs revealed themselves as structures as we grew closer; there stood a veritable city carved into the face of the rock, relics of a civilization long gone. Swells of mana danced faintly on the wind, drawn ever downward toward the island at the center of it all: the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies.”

Diary of an Unnamed Glynwood Student

The Realm breathes a collective sigh of relief.

After six grueling years of civil war, the Magisters’ Republic of Cresvald is again unified. Yet as her citizens exchange their swords for plowshares and the reconstruction begins in earnest, unrest still looms in the shadows. The Provision For Ethical Necromancy, the crux of the treaty between the insurrectionists and the Magisterium, has left many on both sides of the war uneasy, and though the fighting may have ceased, animosity still simmers, waiting for the spark to ignite it once again.

None await this more than the Sons of Anedor, an insidious cult of disenfranchised necromancers and ambitious magi alike who will settle for nothing less than total independence from Magisterium sovereignty. From behind identity-veiling enchantments that obscure even their very auras, these cultists claim to infest every corner of the Realm, engaging in overt violence and subtle politicking alike to actualize their ideals.

Still, life goes on; commoners return to the fields, mages devote their powers once again to more peaceful pursuits, and a certain group of young spellcasters take their first steps into the world of magic in earnest. To them, I offer this:

Welcome to the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies.

---

Premise

As you can probably guess from the name, this RP centers on the freshman class of the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies (GIFTS, if you will), an academy of spellcraft in a nation freshly released from the throes of civil war. Of course, universities are rarely free of politics even in the best of times, and Glynwood is no different. The politics just become a bit more dangerous when everyone involved can shoot lightning from their hands and political violence by necromancers is becoming increasingly common.

I won’t patronize you with a list of rules, just don’t be difficult. For the sake of pacing, I’d like to keep to more or less a weekly posting schedule, though I’m obviously not going to stop anyone from posting more often. I'll make a final decision on sheets May 10th, though if you want little nitpicks in the meantime I'm happy to oblige.

There’s a decent bit of lore, most of which is at least passingly relevant, but the magic system and worldbuilding are kinda loose by design, so feel free to run a concept by me or hit me up with any other questions you may have.

Discord Link

Interest Check

---

Deepest Lore

Magic - The Soul of the World

The substance of magic is known as mana, the vital force that suffuses all the world. A mage differs from a normal human in one key aspect; a mage can draw mana from the environment into themselves and shape it in the form of magic. However, the ramifications of this difference are even more far-reaching than they appear. The circulation of the planet’s very lifeblood through a mage’s body grants them incredible longevity; where a mundane human would be lucky to survive a whole century, a mage could easily make it well into their third before succumbing to old age. With this longevity comes youthful vigor, and most stop aging somewhere in their mid-twenties, only to resume somewhere in the middle of their two-hundreds - to see a mage that looks visibly old is to gaze upon an entity as powerful as they are ancient.

Mages are not born with the ability to cultivate mana or cast spells; in fact, a baby that will grow up to become a mage is indistinguishable from one who would never respire the breath of the world or feel the pulse of the land. Sometime in a mage’s adolescence, they will undergo noesis; the moment where the arcane pathways within their body first fill with mana and they are forever changed. Noesis is usually precluded by a few days of malaise or general sense of unease, and signified by a sudden, visible upwelling of magic around the newly-crowned mage as mana floods their body for the first time. The process typically occurs concurrently with puberty, rarely earlier than eleven and never later than sixteen. An earlier noesis often signifies stronger magical ancestry, though this is more trend than rule. Though a child born to two mage parents is all but certain to manifest arcane abilities, it’s not unheard of for a child with an impressive pedigree to never develop even a spark of magic, nor is it uncommon for magic to spring up from the humblest of origins.

The Aura:
Though mana is nigh-ubiquitous in the environment, ambient mana cannot be controlled directly by a caster. Raw mana must first be taken into the body and processed into a usable form unique to that mage before it can be shaped into spell. This is why one cannot simply seize control of another mage’s spell or siphon from another caster’s reserves as one would the environment.

Despite this, the human body is not an ideal vessel for storing mana. Much of its metaphysical storage capacity is occupied by the soul, leaving comparatively little room for usable energy. While this may suffice for basic cantrips, a caster will quickly find that their internal reserves are unable to muster enough power for anything beyond the simplest of spells. Luckily, a mage’s reserve of power does not end where their body does, and they are capable of stockpiling magic in a field around themselves known as the Aura. Once drawn in and processed inside the body, mana is exhumed into the aura, which generates a visible torrent of energy around the mage.

Just like the mana that composes it, its appearance is unique to each mage and often reflects their favored types of magic, even changing form over time as a mage grows and expands their abilities. For example, an aeromancer might manifest their aura as a raging windstorm around themselves, where a healer might generate a comforting radiance or elaborate mandalas that spiral about their form. Even magi of similar abilities might manifest wildly different auras; where one pyromancer might cloak themselves in an inferno, another might only emanate ripples of searing heat.

It’s worth noting auras are not physically tangible no matter how they may appear. For instance, while a hydromancer’s aura may superficially appear to be composed of water and feel cool and wet to the touch, it wouldn’t impede the breathing of anyone who stuck their head inside it, nor would a bucket draw any liquid from it.

Under normal circumstances, the aura is so small as to be invisible, however the act of casting necessitates the projection of a mage’s aura to fuel the spell. Bigger auras naturally house more energy and therefore telegraph large intakes of mana, and thus more potent spells, on a mage’s part. For this reason, it’s considered quite rude, if not an outright threat, for a mage to project his or her aura when not engaged in active spellcasting.

The Barrier:
While the aura exists primarily as a means of storing excess mana, it also exhibits the convenient side effect of serving as a defensive measure. Mana outside the body naturally coalesces in a protective veil over a mage’s skin called an aural barrier (or, more casually, just a barrier), which is visible as a soft sheen against their flesh whenever stricken with something that might’ve otherwise harmed them. Even a mage moments after his noesis will unconsciously manifest a barrier, though without training it provides little in the way of protection. While an untrained novitiate’s barrier might absorb the blunt force of a punch without incident, it would shatter against something like an incoming club without preventing injury. Meanwhile, a master abjurer might shrug off mundane sword blows with his barrier alone before he’d casted even a single defensive spell.

When a barrier is struck by something with more force than it can absorb, it will dampen the blow with its remaining energy and then shatter. This often leaves a mage defenseless, as the barrier itself is considered the last line of defense in a mage’s repertoire after traditional wards fail. As a barrier requires time to reform, a mage with a shattered barrier will be vulnerable to attacks that would otherwise not faze them, and it is a popular dueling practice to invest a large amount of energy into an attack on a mage’s barrier and then follow up with a flurry of weaker spells.

Aural Dissipation & Manaburn:
Though much larger than a mage’s bodily reserves, the aura is not infinite; if a mage tries to funnel more mana into their aura than they have the ability to retain, the excess energy will leak back into the environment to rejoin the ambient mana of the world. While limiting, this phenomenon is harmless. The same cannot be said of attempting to store more energy in one’s body than it can feasibly hold. When a mage has reached their aural capacity but does not allow any mana to dissipate, further mana drawn from the environment will instead begin to stockpile inside their body and induce a state known as manaburn. As the body’s arcane pathways become oversaturated, the mana within ignites, causing severe internal damage. Survivors liken the feeling to being burned alive from the inside out, with no actual flames to singe the nerves and dull the excruciating pain. Should a caster foolishly continue to intake mana even after this, it will then begin to erode the soul to make room for more arcane energy. This is fatal. Agonizingly fatal. Anyone attempting this better hope their last, suicidal spell was worth it, if they can even manage to cast it before their very essence unravels.

Attunement:
Magi are often classified according to their preferred types of magic, such as a mage that specializes in fire magic colloquially being referred to as a pyromancer, however these titles fail to accurately portray a mage’s relationship with magic. A spellcaster is truly defined by the manner in which they draw in mana from the environment, a property referred to as a mage’s Attunement. Unlike other aspects of a spellcaster’s magic, Attunement is an innate and immutable quality defined at the moment of noesis; only complicated arrays of High Magic spellwork can cleverly circumvent this restriction and allow a mage to harness mana that they are not attuned to. While this quality alters spellcasting greatly on a theoretical level, it does not overly impact the types of spells a mage is capable of casting in practice, only altering the method in which the same magical effect is achieved and where a mage can harness energy most efficiently.

Magi of the Tellurian attunement draw their power from the ley lines embedded in the ground beneath their feet. Great feats of magical exertion by these mages are often accompanied by geysers of energy welling up from the earth around them, and their most potent rituals can only be achieved in places of highly auspicious geomancy; locations where many powerful ley lines intersect in a massive nexus of magic. Tellurian magic tends to be the more consistent attunement, as stoic and unyielding as the earth that begat it. Mana drawn from the land is aspected to the passive principle of magic and, while it lacks the raw power of its brother attunement, also lacks its volatility and affords Tellurian mages a great deal of control that lends itself well to complex spellwork. This makes for a reliable companion that acts in a formulaic, easily wielded manner. Indeed, Tellurian mages who have recently awoken to their power tend to initially progress faster than their Ouranian peers, as they have little issue coercing their mana to cooperate.

Ouranian magi conversely draw their power from the raw mana in the air around them, which flows across the land in invisible gusts of arcane power. Attuned to the active principle of magic, skyborne mana often manifests in explosive, flashy displays, though its users have a tendency to burn out quickly. In contrast to Tellurian magic, Ouranian magic is temperamental and harder to precisely shape, with spells often reflecting the emotional state of their wielder. This inconsistency can be a source of consternation for a novice spellcaster of this attunement, but once mastered, most come to find it quite intuitive. Ouranian sites of power are likewise fleeting, much like weather, as their great rituals require one to chase down a storm of arcane energy in order to harness it. This inconsistency, coupled with an already tenuous level of control, leads many snobbish detractors to claim this attunement does not lend itself well to the most complex of High Magic rituals. This argument often falls flat in the face of an Ouranian mage in the midst of a great arcane confluence, as they tear ribbons of mana from the sky and whip them into a cyclone to fuel their greatest displays of spellcraft.

High Magic:
In contrast to “low magic”, the act of casting solely from one’s own aura with haste and intuitive ease, High Magic spells are complex acts of ritual and nuance, grand displays of spellcraft that do not abide by limiting concepts such as aural capacity or even attunement. They use a series of ritual implements and advanced thaumaturgical principles to create a sort of magical feedback loop; High Magic harnesses aural mana to shape environmental mana externally and skip the need for it to pass through the body altogether, thus circumventing manaburn. These are the spells that move mountains and decide the fate of nations. They are also extremely complicated and require obscene amounts of theoretical knowledge and preparation to even attempt to cast, let alone succeed.

For this reason, most High Magic commonly performed by the unseasoned magus is of the less-complex variety, requiring little more than a staff and a traced ritual circle with a casting time of only a few minutes. These are mostly used for convenience, such as long-ranged teleportation or minor weather manipulation.

Dark Magic:
A contentious topic as of late, Dark Magic, like High Magic, was originally conceived as a casting method that can harness mana in quantities beyond aural capacity without the risk of manaburn. The term does not refer to a single discipline, but rather a host of different fields - such as necromancy or blood magic - that induce a particular alteration of mana in order to function. Dark Magic polarizes mana into a state antithetical to ambient mana, thus preventing it from readily dissipating into the environment outside the confines of an aura and thus keeping it available for casting. As an unintended side effect, this “anti-mana” exhibited a host of behaviors that allowed for the invention of new magical effects.

The controversy arose when it was discovered that, among the curious properties of this new type of mana, it also had the unique ability to interact with and alter human souls. As atrocities mounted, restrictions were put into place, until the practice of all derivatives of Dark Magic were eventually outlawed. The Provision For Ethical Necromancy recently changed this, legalizing many techniques that do not broach upon the soul and opening up disciplines previously considered taboo, for better or for worse.

As one grows more proficient in Dark Magic, it alters their aura as proficiency in any other field would. The body starts to naturally cultivate mana in its altered state, which causes the aura to darken and appear more sinister.

The Magisters’ Republic of Cresvald

Society:
As the name implies, the Magisters’ Republic of Cresvald is a magocracy first and foremost. If one does not undergo noesis, they are forever consigned to the underclass of society. They cannot vote, they cannot hold public office, and they are beholden to the mandates of their spellcasting betters. This isn’t to say non-mages are totally disenfranchised, however; the Magisterium has passed several provisions on humane treatment of the smallfolk. They are still citizens and thus retain the right to petition the Magisterium, though most find it prudent to have a mage do so on their behalf, and they can own land, amass wealth, and reap the benefits and comforts of magical infrastructure.

The magically gifted only make up approximately 15% of Cresvald’s total population, though they invariably dominate society. While much of the merchant class is composed of normal humans, the nobility is the sole domain of magi. Even common-born mages are a significant step above the wealthiest of those without arcane talent on the social ladder.

Noble mages are those who come from wealthy and influential magical lineages, who nigh-invariably produce mage children in each generation. They are often deeply entrenched in magical society, through a web of connections established over the course of a centuries-long life and honed through multiple generations. A mage is considered ‘lowborn’ if one or more of their parents was not a mage, or were both magi of middling status. They typically lack the connections and resources of their noble peers, however magical society is, at its heart, a meritocracy; for one who can bend the world with willpower alone, no pitiful hurdle such as lack of a head-start will keep them from greatness if they dare to reach for it.

A mage’s blood status rarely overshadows ability, and a talented young mage will find no shortage of allies and mentors over the course of their education. After noesis, an adolescent mage is legally required to be sent to some form of preliminary magical education. For nobles, this is often accomplished by private tutors or prestigious boarding schools. For magi whose family lacks the means to pay for these extravagant options, public institutions are found in every prefecture that can provide at least the barest fundamentals of spellcraft. In heavily-populated areas, these institutions might boast an impressive curriculum, however education in the most isolated of areas often consist of a lackluster apprenticeship under an eccentric magus in the middle of nowhere.

After that, most mages either seek a formal apprenticeship under a senior mage, or choose to attend further education at a university, as their preliminary education rarely cultivates a comprehensive understanding of the arcane. Formal study at a university typically lasts a minimum of three years, though it’s not unheard of for a mage to dedicate decades to academia while honing their craft.

Mages without generational wealth to fall back on often find themselves employed in research or the construction and upkeep of the Realm’s magical infrastructure, which cannot be delegated to mundane laborers. Law enforcement and most judiciary positions are reserved for magi as well, and many Prefects require their appointed subordinates to have undergone noesis. Others take up ordinary careers, though naturally enhanced by their arcane gifts.

The Magisterium & The Heptarchy:
The ruling body of Cresvald, referred to as the Magisterium, is officially composed of every citizen of at least 25 years of age who has undergone noesis. Naturally, it is impractical to expect every mage in the country to vote on every single issue, so most of the actual legislation is performed by a council of seven elected mages called the Heptarchy. Heptarchs may bring an issue to a vote before the entire assembly, however most only do so when petitioned or on particularly controversial edicts.

Below them are the Prefects, who govern the individual territories that make up the nation. They are elected by majority vote of all mages who reside in a given prefecture, and may only be removed from office by the Heptarchy or Magisterium as a whole. Prefects may govern their territories as they see fit, so long as any legislation they pass does not conflict with the laws of the greater Magisterium. However, a Prefect is only considered primus inter pares among the mage population of a given prefecture, and thus cannot enforce their local laws upon any mages, whether in residence in a prefecture or simply visiting. While it may behoove a mage to follow the laws set by a Prefect, lest he invoke the ire of a powerful magus, he is under no legal obligation to do so.

Mundane citizens have no such protections, however most Prefects govern their subjects with a fair degree of respect for fear of retaliation. While an armed militia is no match for a mage of even modest power, it only takes a single disenfranchised urchin to awaken their magic by chance and seek revenge on a tyrannical governor a few decades later.

Geography:
Much of the nation hosts a temperate climate, with mild summers and cold winters. The heartland consists of rolling plains and forested expanses, and hosts the majority of Cresvald’s population. This region boasts a strong urbanite merchant class among the non-magical population, as the central prefectures are understandably a hub for traffic from across Cresvald. Likewise, many of the Republic’s largest cities dot the land where roads from the outer prefectures converge, the most prominent of which being the nation’s capital of Pontaion, built strategically in the geographic center of the nation.

Though recovering from a siege near the tail-end of the war, Pontaion is nevertheless still the sprawling marvel it always was. Rare is the politically active magister that doesn’t own a townhouse in the city, and the surrounding countryside is likewise littered with the estates or hunting lodges of the rich and powerful. As such, a good deal of the city’s non-magical denizens are under the employ of magi, whether in service positions or maintaining a mage’s business ventures in the capital. The centerpiece of the city is the seat of the Magisterium, a grand basilica where the Heptarchy assembles and hosts petitioners. Though the grand forum that once housed the original gatherings of the Magisterium still stands, it is no longer in use; should a grand conclave of the magical populace be called, the sheer scale of such an event necessitates spatial-warping magic to create a space large enough to hold everyone that should choose to attend.

The north is mountainous and chilly, and likewise the least populated region of Cresvald. The coastal northwest hosts the majority of its population, with southerlies from the ocean keeping the area more temperate. Much of the northwest consists of craggy coastline and windswept moorland, with most large cities located on the water and smaller settlements further inland. The Glynwood Academy for Thaumaturgical Studies is located here, hidden in an isolated volcanic crater amongst the northern mountain range.

Away from the sea, the northeast is the most frigid area of the country, and thus more reliant on magic for the essentials of their infrastructure such as food production and winter heating. Communities tend to be smaller and centered around the demesnes of prominent magi, especially in the highlands, where most settlements are the result of arcane terraforming. Magi here enjoy a great deal of respect from those reliant upon them and Prefects in this region rarely face backlash from the non-magical population, no matter their actions. It comes at no surprise, then, that the northeastern prefectures were the spearhead of the secessionist movement.

They made their capital in Tythrae, the City of Spires, one of the only cities in the north that can rival the size of the great magopoleis of the central prefectures. The city is composed of concentric rings, each planned meticulously to optimally harness magic across the entire city. Tythrae boasts some of the most impressive arcane infrastructure in the country, as turbulent storms of mana from the surrounding mountains are drawn into the many grand spires erected at geomantic foci around the city. This serves the dual purpose of protecting Tythrae’s citizens from the storms as well as supplying all of the city’s mana needs. Arcanoconductive materials line the streets, providing warmth and light to every home in even the coldest winter nights.

Conversely, the southern prefectures are warm in the summer and suffer only mild winters, leading to many magi constructing their estates there. Magi from the north wait out the winter in comfort, while those from milder climes enjoy their summers in coastal retreats along the southwestern shore. Much of the land is agricultural, whether for the production of staple crops to export across the Republic or for some mage or another’s fancy vineyard.

The War:
Eight years ago, a landmark case came before the Heptarchy; Jameson Belworth, a minor Prefect of a middling northern territory, was convicted of practicing necromancy on human remains. Necromantic labor in the north was not unheard of, as animated corpses were far more resilient to the cold than mortal laborers and oversight was often less present in the distal prefectures, and previously existed as something of an open secret. Belworth argued that he was forced to turn to undead labor as a last resort, as the mage population of his lands had diminished this generation and inclement weather was taking its toll on the human workers among his populace. He had petitioned the Bureau of Terraforming and Climate Manipulation a decade prior to allow for milder winters, however his proposal was deemed unreasonable and his petition denied. The Magisterium subsequently levied sanctions against him for alleged inhumane treatment of his subjects, as he lacked the magical resources to preserve their health against the elements. Therefore, Belworth claims he had no choice but to turn to Dark Magic for the good of his people.

Belworth quickly garnered support among his fellow mages, who decried the Magisterium for denying Belworth his requested aid and then punishing him for the issue that warranted aid in the first place. His critics responded that Dark Magic is inexcusable, even if done with altruistic intentions, as it would encourage the type of “the ends justify the means” mindset that had Dark Magic outlawed in the first place. The issue cascaded into a variety of grievances about Magisterium overreach and what a mage should and should not be allowed to do within his own territory. The final nail in the coffin came in the manner in which the case was resolved; normally such a contentious issue would be put to a vote of the greater Magisterium, however the Heptarchy kept the vote under their own auspices, for fear of creating even more unfavorable ripples across magical society.

The final verdict came down to a 4-3 split vote in favor of the prosecution. Outraged, Heptarch Solomon Anedor immediately stepped down from the council and declared the secession of his holdings from Magisterium sovereignty. Several northern prefectures followed, citing the alleged tyranny of the Heptarchy as justification for their decision. Most of these initial secessionists were clandestine dark magi looking to practice their art more openly, though some were simply magisters that chafed under an authority higher than their own. Heptarch Balthazar Valdim, another who had voted in Belworth’s favor, proposed a tributary system that would allow magi more control over their territory in exchange for a lessened capacity to participate in Magisterium politics and an increased tax rate, as an attempt to mediate between the secessionists and the Heptarchy, however this only galvanized his opposition against him and was immediately voted down.

With the diplomatic solution dismissed immediately, several prefectures rose in open revolt, with both Valdim and his fellow remaining Belworth-aligned Heptarch joining them. Valdim promptly turned his political acumen against the Magisterium and rallied the rebel prefectures as best he could, establishing a solid base of territory in the north and working to support the remaining rebel prefectures in other areas of Cresvald that were not directly connected to the secessionist heartland. Many ambitious magi, high and lowborn alike, flocked to Tythrae in search of power they could not attain from within the existing hierarchy, and Magisterium sympathizers were likewise driven from the rebel holdings - or worse. What began as isolated duels between magi over matters of authority soon became pitched battles, especially once undead legions were raised and mortals were levied to hold them back.

Anedor took an aggressive stance early on, contrasting with his supposed desire to simply be left alone, and pushed into the central provinces from the northeastern hinterlands with the goal of taking the capital and dismantling the Republic. Crippled by numerous internal skirmishes near individual rebel prefectures within the greater Republic, the Magisterium could not mount a sufficient defense against Anedor’s onslaught, and gradually lost territory on the main front. By the time the smaller isolated pockets of resistance had been subdued, Anedor’s hordes had cut a swath through the heartlands and approached Pontaion.

His first major defeat came at the hands of the battlemagus Renault Auristel, who, along with several other battlemagi under his charge, bested Solomon Anedor in combat to make way for Magisterium soldiers to force a retreat of his army. The rallied Magisterium forces then pushed the front back into secessionist territory, however the terrain halted their advance enough to allow the numerically inferior rebel armies to hold the line.

Now unable to gain ground in the traditional manner, the rebels spent the subsequent years of the war launching guerrilla attacks from territories outside the north or isolated pockets of resistance within loyalist prefectures in order to disrupt the Magisterium’s counter-offensive as the front crept further and further northward.

The war culminated in the Siege of Pontaion, considered the last decisive battle of the conflict. Believing the rebels cornered, the Magisterium committed their forces to an all-out assault on the secessionist heartland. In response, the secessionists weaponized the extensive geomantic infrastructure of Tythrae to rip open a portal between the separatist northeast and a pacified rebel territory in central Cresvald. Completely unprepared, the Magisterium could only offer a token resistance against the encroaching armies of Solomon Anedor and the powerful dark magi that accompanied him, and the former Heptarch eventually succeeded in his original goal of laying siege to Pontaion. Though the capital’s powerful arcane defenses were a challenge to breach even for the assembled magical might of the rebels’ most powerful wizards, they still had the city encircled and the bulk of the Magisterium forces were committed elsewhere.

The city laid besieged for three weeks before reinforcements arrived from the northern front, which clashed with the besieging army in the bloodiest engagement of the war. High Magic from inside the city raged across the battlefield as the rebels in turn cut down hundreds to fuel fell rituals strong enough to counteract them. Both armies decimated each other, and the Magisterium narrowly managed to lift the siege.

However, Anedor’s necromancy allowed him to replenish his losses far faster than the loyalists could, and was poised to march on Pontaion again when he was intercepted by the army of the newly-promoted Second Battlemage Renault Auristel. Auristel gambled on Anedor’s pride and desire for revenge after their last encounter, and famously challenged the former Heptarch to a duel before their armies clashed. To most onlookers, this was suicide; it had taken no less than three mages to best Anedor previously. Nevertheless, Auristel miraculously won their duel, and Anedor was killed before his men. Rebel sympathizers maintain that he cheated, while sensationalism abounds among Magisterium soldiers that Auristel rose from the dead mid-fight or that Anedor threatened his wife and that gave him the strength to overcome the elder wizard. That fact that true resurrection is impossible and Auristel is unmarried seems to do little to deter these increasingly ludicrous rumors.

The subsequent clash ended in the loyalists’ favor, as Auristel and his cohort hunted down the remaining master necromancers in the wake of Anedor’s death and the rest of the rebel mages were routed or killed. Victorious, but exhausted and unwilling to face a renewed offensive from the north, the Magisterium sent an envoy to Tythrae in an attempt to bring rebellion leaders to the negotiating table. The subsequent peace talks culminated in a highly contentious piece of legislation known as the Provision For Ethical Necromancy. Sometimes called Belworth’s Law, after the mage who brought the conflict to light, the Provision legalized necromancy on corpses of criminals or those who consent before death, as well as most forms of blood magic, so long as the blood used is derived from oneself or a consenting individual with certain limitations.

The majority of mages on both sides saw this as a reasonable compromise, while others simply tired of fighting and hadn’t the strength to do anything but grumble. Others argued that the Provision was a slippery slope to greater atrocities, as legal Dark Magic of any capacity would obsolesce the ability to distinguish between an illegal necromancer and a legal one by aura alone.

The true death of the rebellion came when Valdim reclaimed his seat on the Heptarchy and was granted Prefectship of Tythrae, as it was his influence that brought the rest of the rebels in line, at least superficially. Likewise, the other rebels were granted full amnesty and the Realm was once again unified, in body if not in spirit.

The Sons of Anedor:
Not all were content with this resolution. Though the majority of the rebels were happy to take their concessions and bargain for their aims in the petitioner’s chamber rather than fight for them on the battlefield, some believed the separatists had given up too soon. Still, the Provision had deprived them of their popular support base in the northeast, whose only interest in Dark Magic lies in undead labor. Open warfare was no longer an option to these magi who sought to rule as sorcerer-kings rather than subsist as sovereign citizens of the Republic.

Regretfully, they returned to the fold and hid their ambitions away from the prying eyes of their peers. But Solomon Anedor never surrendered, and neither would they. The Sons of Anedor, as they would come to call themselves, began as a network of secessionist magi who felt disenfranchised by the Provision, who have gradually planted and nurtured the seeds of their ideology since the war’s conclusion. They whisper in the ears of the young, the ambitious, the lowborn; anyone who might be receptive to the idea that they could be more if only they cast off the yoke of the Magisterium.

To realize this goal, the Sons have taken to public demonstrations; attacks on Magisterium buildings, incited riots, even attempted assassination of prominent loyalist figures. Their message is simple - the rebellion is not dead.

This is facilitated by their distinctive masks; wonders of magical artifice that wholly veil one’s identity. Each member is given a unique enchanted mask upon full induction into the cult, which obscures them from divination magic and alters the composition of their aura while worn. Though only a few mages in the entirety of the realm would be capable of creating such items, let alone in numbers sufficient to furnish the entire cult, the Magisterium has yet to discover the source of these artifacts, much to the consternation of law enforcement.

The Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies at Atrya-Nhur

The Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies was founded a little over a millennium ago by famed archmagister Theodoric Glynwood atop the remains of the destroyed city of Atrya-Nhur. While much of the city rested underwater even in Theodoric’s time, the massive ley nexus the city had been built upon surged as brightly as ever, and he found that the crater that surrounds the city funneled mana currents from the sky into a dense cloud above the palatial ruins. With the question of what to do with such a powerful site placed before the Magisterium, Theodoric moved to dedicate it to education, thereby removing the nexus from any one mage’s hands.

The school attracted a number of brilliant minds with an interest in the arcane nexus and the ruins that rested above it, and it soon established itself as one of the preeminent academic institutions in Cresvald. Today, it remains as one of the oldest and most prestigious academies in the Realm, noted for producing magi with a great deal of practical experience upon graduation.

It was for this reason that the institute was recently selected as the first to implement a new battlemage preparatory program by the Magisterium, overseen personally by none other than Second Battlemage Renault Auristel. The stated purpose of the initiative is to replenish the amount of battle-capable magi in Cresvald to pre-war numbers as soon as possible, lest enemies foreign or domestic exploit the Realm’s vulnerability in such a troubled time. To that end, the Magisterium seeks to pass legislation mandating all mages to be trained in the fundamentals of war magic to assist in the defense of the nation in an emergency.

Of course, war is not the only industry that has found itself with a shortage of magical talent, and Glynwood’s standards of education stand as firm as ever. Standards for admission have lessened for this reason, however the institute still requires all applicants to submit a letter of recommendation from a practicing mage in order to be considered. For those from magical families, this is as trivial as requesting one from a family member, though some choose to deliberately send a recommendation from someone outside their bloodline to avoid accusations of nepotism. Students without mage relatives have to work a bit harder, though most can find an easy reference in their preliminary magic teachers.

The Cohort System:
At Glynwood, the development of magic is seen less as a series of concepts one can be taught, and more as a system that must be cultivated for oneself under the guidance of more experienced practitioners. Given the individual nature of magic, educators often take a role more akin to a coach than a professor; any mage can be taught to make fire, but all of them will develop a different method to shape it into a fireball. To offer more personalized instruction, students are organized into small groups called cohorts under the supervision of a single staff member. This professor serves as an advisor to the students in his or her cohort, overseeing the development of their arcane abilities and facilitating access to appropriate resources should their own skill in a field of magic be lacking.

A cohort is composed of a group of students from the same academic year, though rarely in the same field of study, and will usually remain constant for the students’ entire tenure at Glynwood. They share dorms, attend mandatory general education classes together, and participate in any school-sponsored ventures off-campus as a team. The cohort also forms the basis of the new battlemage preparatory curriculum. Try to get along, you’re all stuck together.

Uniforms:

Uniform

The uniform for men and women consists of a military-style doublet and matching trousers, covered with a hooded cloak or cowl that only drapes the shoulders in the warmer months. The garments are accented with thin metallic trim, whose color denotes the year of the wearer. First year students wear bronze, second years wear silver, and third years and above wear gold. Such precious metals also serve the practical purpose of aiding mana conductivity in addition to their use in identification.

The School Grounds:
The academy’s main campus rests atop the ruins of an ancient palace on an island in the middle of a massive crater lake, surrounded on nearly all sides by daunting cliffs and fed by a majestic waterfall. The entire caldera was once home to the city of Atrya-Nhur, a sprawling marvel of magical construction, though little of it still remains. The majority of the buildings sunk beneath the waters during the calamitous ritual that flooded the once-proud city, and the palatial complex that crowned the central hill has been gradually built over and replaced during the academy’s millennia-long existence. The only accessible ruins - without a water-breathing spell, anyway - are the subterranean compounds carved into the cliffs that surround the city. The most readily accessible structures have been restored and repurposed by the institute, but the ruins run deep, and there is still much to be found by a mischievous student who ignores the warnings of their professors.

As the school is far from easily traversed by conventional means, the academy makes use of the existing infrastructure of Atrya-Nhur to bypass the need for things like boats or readily-accessible magical flight. The Atryans navigated their city by means of magical doorways that linked two distant locations together, recognizable as gilded archways adorned with runes whose interior shimmers with a view that doesn’t line up with what truly stands beyond the arch. Many of these doorways are inert, usually because their corresponding destination is underwater, but some have simply not been maintained for lack of use. Despite this, there’s hardly a spot on campus that can’t be reached within one or two arches, and older students often pick up shortcuts that cut down on travel time in the most unintuitive directions.

The main campus dominates the entirety of the central island and houses most of the school’s important structures, with the eastern side of the island holding the primary academic facilities such as administrative buildings, classrooms, and the grand library that serves as the centerpiece of the campus. The western side of the island conversely features extensive common areas for students to linger and practice in, the infirmary, and the ever-important feasting hall.

The stone edifices that line the cliffs around the lake are divided into three “wings” for ease of reference, though in truth the stone corridors that wind through the mountains eventually connect them all if one follows them far enough.

The south wing is composed mostly of dormitories, refurbished from the remains of the Atryan nobility’s cliffside manors, from which they would look upon the city from on high. First year dorms are located on the lowest occupied tiers, only a few stories above the waterline. Above that are the residential commons, which includes a still-functional Atryan bathhouse, then the second year dorms a few levels beyond that, and the loftiest heights near the apex of the cliff are reserved for third year students and above. The faculty residences are also rumored to be located somewhere in the sprawling labyrinth of the south wing ruins, though none among the student body are quite sure where.

The east wing lies under the grand waterfall, and is constantly filled with the thunderous roar of rushing water in those rooms not protected by sound-dampening magic. It houses laboratories, practice rooms, and any other sites of magical experimentation that could potentially result in collateral damage.

The north wing is almost exclusively used by the school as classrooms outside of the main island campus, and most advanced subjects are taught here. Rumor is that several dormitories are due to be constructed in the lower levels, though the current population of the school hasn’t necessitated that yet.

Dorms consist of an individual room for each student, large enough to house a bed, dresser, and desk. These rooms connect to a spacious common area shared by the rest of a student’s cohort, as well as communal latrines. As they are embedded into the cliffside, none of the rooms or corridors that make up the dormitories have windows, and are lit exclusively with magical lighting. However, all common rooms have access to a balcony that overlooks the lake if a student finds themselves in need of some sunlight.

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CS

Picture Here (keep it weeb-y)
_Quote

Name:

Should be obvious.

Age:

Keep it around 18-ish.

Gender:

What’s in your pants? Or what’s not, if that’s your thing.

Appearance:

Short physical description, uniform alterations, that sort of thing.

Personality:

You know the drill.

Background:

A brief synopsis of your character’s life before attending the academy. Remember that all students require a letter of recommendation from a practicing mage to apply at Glynwood, so you'll need at least one person that'll vouch for you.

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Attunement:

Tellurian or Ouranian.

Aura:

What does your aura look/feel/sound like?

Magic:

Describe your character’s magical abilities, nascent as they are at this point in time. What types of magic have they already learned? What do they favor or have an affinity toward? What are they looking to specialize in? Feel free to keep this broad or list out specific spells in their arsenal. Keep in mind, magic isn’t just about fighting; magi use it to enhance nearly every facet of their everyday life when they can get away with it.

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Arcane Items:

List staves, enchanted trinkets, or anything else your character might own of the magical variety. Take this part out if your character lacks any possessions that fit this description.

Other:

Dumb trivia you couldn’t worm in anywhere else but really want us to know about your character.

The Shattering of Aegis

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Ceolfric couldn't bring himself to care about the rain. If their demon showed up now, they'd have no choice but to run; they could barely fend off a few undead wolves at their best, and now the rest of his travelling party was disarmed, battered, and probably on the verge of collapsing from an adrenaline dump. With such terrible odds, he doubted his Lord would be merciful enough to even spare him, let alone the others. Instead, he trudged along dutifully beside the wagon, constantly alert for any disparities between his eyes and his aetheric senses.

Their stop couldn't come soon enough.

Ceolfric offered only token aid in setting up the camp for the night; anyone who wanted to argue could try their luck with the wolves again. Quite frankly, he'd need his strength more than them if they were attacked again. Of course, the unspoken power disparity couldn't have peacefully remained so - Cerric decided to drudge it out into the open. The lecture about the consequences of undead exposure was fine, but the bandit couldn't draw anything out of his teamwork spiel except that they were all failing horribly at their assessment. It wouldn't have been so demeaning if he hadn't implied Eila was the thing holding them together and not Ceolfric's willingness to kill the thing that almost ate her.

Eila seemed convinced that she wasn't infected, and as far as Ceolfric could tell, she didn't seem to be lying, but he'd have to keep an eye on her anyway. If her aether started feeling faint, he'd have to tie her up or something. Or just kill her to be safe like Cerric had suggested, but there was no reason to throw an entire person away when she might still have use.

"I assume you all know where you fucked up," Ceolfric gruffly commented as plopped down at the base of a tree near the fire, leaning against the trunk casually. "But exposure is the first step to composure, so I hope you'll all react a bit faster next time." A little tenacity would do them some good; being aetherborn was no good if they froze up and cried every time someone wanted to hurt them. Freckles should've been able to handle the entire pack singlehandedly. Even the teenager lost his composure at the end, and he was Ceolfric's running favorite.

"Now, why don't we go over everyone's skillset and what that can provide in a typical caravan ambush scenario, so we don't have a repeat of that embarrassing display." Better to keep them on track before anyone started pointing fingers. The bandit figured he was safe, but even Eila was supposedly an educated woman and she surely didn't need to be told that she was a waste of a flank guard in four different ways to understand. One of them would break rather than reliably sticking to the plan, he was sure, but it beat floundering about without any sense of coherence.

Indifferently, Ceolfric drew his sword and poured the remainder of his waterskin over it, careful not to spill any potentially Rot-tainted water on himself. Last thing he needed was to chop a highwayman in half and have it rise up against him a few moments later due to carelessness.

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