Ravenloft: Prisoners of the Mist
Within the swirling Mist (IC) => Biographies => Topic started by: Clausawks on December 28, 2020, 07:42:16 PM
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For as long as the world has been, magic has been. It is intrinsic to our being, to our lives, and to the function of the planes. As long as there has been magic, there have been those with the power to harness it to their will.
In the beginning, there were no wizards. Sorcerers existed, in a primal form, harnessing the wild magic of the world without regard for nature. Clerics, in a sense, existed, their powers fueled by faith in the primordial elements, before we had the knowing of the gods. And, most importantly, bards existed, their dances and chants fueling the start of society itself, keeping the lore and predicting a vast and wild future, which would eventually come to be.
In this vast and untamed wilderness of magic, before we had the Disciplines of today, raw magic was used, nothing better present. In this time, the Power Words were found. The most skilled of mages can harness the flow of the world itself into their spells, and are drawn to it almost intuitively.
According to the best evidence we have, the first usage was by a great shaman, during a ritualistic “Ghost Dance” that prepared his tribe to fight another. The leader of their tribe, a terrible warlord, appeared to slaughter the dancers before they were prepared, and the shaman uttered a word that was even then unknown to those of the time. His foe fell dead in an instant, and the tribes scattered, fearing the Dances from then on.
"Over the millennia the wild magic of the world has decreased, used up and wasted by wizards and sorcerers and druids and so many others, all long dead. Even so, the Power Words remain, their function inhibited but never gone, always an instinct in the brains of the greatest among us.
It is a strange feeling. The world seems older, and I feel as though I am larger than myself. A flood of memories, memories of things that I have never seen nor heard of before. It seems as though the moment lasts for hours, but in truth the sensation ends the moment I finish the incantation. In more mundane terms, it will kill almost anyone not strong enough to resist the magic, and is stronger in areas of high magical residue."
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I have been reading about the Words of Power, a magic system that dates back to ancient times, and I find myself fascinated by the concept. It is said that these words can be used to manipulate the very fabric of reality, shaping the world to the will of the caster. The thought of such power is both exhilarating and terrifying.
I have always been drawn to the arcane, but the Words offer a level of control that I have never experienced before. I can feel the energy of the universe thrumming around me, waiting to be harnessed. The idea that I could shape that energy with a single word is awe-inspiring.
However, the dangers of using the magic cannot be ignored. It is a complex system, and one that requires great skill and knowledge to use safely. I have heard stories of sorcerers who have lost their minds or even their lives attempting to wield this magic. It is not something to be taken lightly.
Still, I cannot help but feel drawn. I have spent hours poring over ancient tomes and scrolls, trying to decipher the secrets of this magic. I have even attempted to cast a few spells using the words I have learned, with mixed success. It is a difficult and frustrating process, but one that I am determined to master.
I can only hope that my studies will lead me to a greater understanding of the magic, and that I will be able to use them to further my own knowledge and power, so I may finally leave this landscape and return home. For now, I will continue to study and practice, knowing that the road ahead will be long and difficult. But if I can master the Power Word I need, there will be nothing that I cannot achieve.
Journal Entry #1: Musings of a Sorcerer
As I sit here in my study, I find myself pondering the nature of magic and the power that it holds. As a sorcerer, I have always been drawn to the arcane, to the mystery and wonder of spells and incantations.
But lately, my thoughts have turned to something more fundamental, something that lies at the very heart of all magic: the Words of Power. These ancient words, whispered by the first sorcerers in the dawn of time, are said to hold the very essence of magic itself.
I have spent many long hours pouring over the ancient tomes in my library, seeking to uncover the secrets of these words. Some say that they are lost to time, that they were spoken only once and then forgotten. But I refuse to believe that. I am convinced that the Words of Power still exist, waiting to be discovered by those who are worthy.
And so I continue my search, my quest for knowledge and understanding. For I know that with the magic at my command, I will be able to tap into a wellspring of magic unlike anything the world has ever seen.
It is a daunting task, to be sure. But I am undaunted. For I am a sorcerer, and the power of magic flows through my veins. And with each passing day, I grow ever closer to unlocking the secrets of the Words of Power.
Journal Entry #2: Success!
After many months of searching, I have finally done it.
It was not an easy journey, to be sure. The ancient tomes and scrolls that I poured over were filled with cryptic riddles and mysterious symbols, and more than once I found myself lost in a maze of arcane knowledge.
But I persevered, driven by my unyielding thirst for knowledge. And at last, I found what I was looking for.
The Words of Power are like nothing I have ever seen before. They are not mere incantations or spells, but something far greater. They are the building blocks of magic itself, the raw energy that sorcerers like myself draw upon to cast our spells.
And now that I have found them, I know that my power is limitless. I will be able to cast spells beyond my wildest dreams, to bend reality itself to my will. It is a heady thought, to be sure. But I am confident in my abilities.
The Words of Power are mine now.
Journal Entry #3: A Warning
I have made a discovery that troubles me greatly. It seems that the Words of Power are not without their dangers.
As I delved deeper into the mysteries of these ancient words, I began to uncover a dark truth. The Words of Power are not merely a tool to be used, but a force to be reckoned with.
I have seen the effects of their misuse, the terrible consequences that can arise when a sorcerer wields this power without restraint.
And so I am forced to ask myself: Am I worthy of this power? Can I be trusted to use it wisely, to wield it in the service of good?
I do not know the answer. But I do know this: I will not let the magic consume me. I will use them wisely, and with caution. For the power of magic is not to be trifled with.
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Journal Entry #4 - Date Unknown
Nightmares haunt my nights, weaving their malevolent incantations into the tapestry of my dreams. Each slumber is a descent into a realm of terror, a relentless maelstrom of darkness and despair. These accursed utterances, once my source of mastery, have now become a curse upon my soul.
I see them, those eldritch glyphs etched in crimson fire, dancing before my eyes as I sleep. They twist and writhe, like serpents of ancient chaos, coiling around my mind and sinking their fangs deep into the recesses of my consciousness. The very air resonates with their infernal resonance, and the sound is a symphony of doom, reverberating through the deepest abyss of my being.
With each utterance, I am transported to a nightmarish domain, a desolate landscape shrouded in shadow and foreboding. The heavens weep in perpetual anguish, their tears a torrential rain of blood that soaks the ashen earth. My footsteps echo with dread as I wander through this cursed realm, my very presence a blight upon the land.
The inhabitants of this forsaken place are spectral echoes of what they once were, twisted and deformed by the malevolent power. They reach out to me with skeletal hands, their voices a cacophony of tormented wails, pleading for release from their eternal suffering. But I am powerless to help them, for the Words have bound me to this nightmare, a sorcerer condemned to witness the consequences of my reckless pursuit of forbidden knowledge.
I wake from these tormented visions in a cold sweat, my heart pounding with dread. Once a source of arcane might, have become a curse that taints my very soul. I fear that in my quest for mastery, I have become the victim of my own hubris. The nightmares persist, a relentless reminder of the darkness that now clings to me, a sorcerer tormented by the very magic he once sought to command.
There are several ink blots leftover.
"I was a fool."