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The Grand Mage Tournament

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Acalmaehr ponders to the High Elves and the Silver Council, @Ferd0207@MrSyth@stickyhon@Venomous_Pup@Zindran

 

"Should we attend this dear lliran? I do feel that we'd find much enjoyment, and ti, it'd be good for the practice of the apprentices."  - "I do notice however- they have not blacklisted the arts of genus or that of the mystics?  Are we to expect those whom battle with ghosts, or to watch a truer bloodbath?"

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Rhae'lin glanced at the missive as it slid across her desk at the Imperial College. 

 

"Magi made out to be carnival attractions." She took a slow drag from her cigarette. Smoke curled upward in a perfect spiral. "How novel."

 

She stood, the missive held between two fingers like something distasteful that required disposal. Her heels clicked against the stone floor with measured rhythm as she crossed to the staff notice board mounted near the door. The pin went through the parchment with more force than strictly necessary. The proclamation hung there now, visible to any colleague who passed: The Grand Mage Battle in bold script, five hundred minas and a meaningless title offered as bait.


Rhae'lin stepped back and regarded it for a long moment.


"If any of you attend this circus," she said to the office, her voice carrying the dry precision of someone who knew exactly how this would unfold, "do try to remember you are practitioners, not performing bears."


@Frisket @Animael

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A witch-doktor stumbles upon the letter & rubs his hand "Time to begin cookin."

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Weston the VVizard's eyes bobble at the idea of being named the best VVizard of Azurass, he thought he was, so this would be perfect.

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The worst Combatant looked at the missive. He thought to himself how this would be a great event to train in.

 

He thought knowing full well that he would lose round 1.

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A wayward wizard would ponder this missive in his cave, but he has no cave in which to ponder.

 

A travesty.

 

He ponders in a home that isn't his, instead.

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a depressed Vivien would be laying on the couch across Rhaelin

 

”Maybe…..only if Archi goes”

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THE ANCIENT HOUSEWIZARD GAZED UPON THE PARCHMENT.

 

RECKONING, HIS COMBATANTS SHALL HAVE.

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The King of all Sorcerers, dead beyond the grave, even his spirit was tempted to return from eternal Kaggath to partake in magical struggles of power- for Fatebinder knew that in the arena, displays of power are tools of coercion and diplomacy.

 

His tribal people, the Hakad, yearned for a leader once more....great sorcerer lords who could command respect. Or would these magi show themselves as simple buffoons? 

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The missive's title had instantly caught the attention of Aelros on his journey around the continent. As he laid those lavender eyes onto its contents his face lit with an unmistakable glee.

 

Oh how it had been so long since he fought other magi.

 

"FINALLY. . ."

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An ancient voidal mage, one Vassago Verilius Vesryn Vladius Vandi'ir smiles.

Spoiler

ST get ready for hundreds of CRP sreqs!

 

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Balas contemplates how he's going to use fire to knock his opponents off their feet without injuring them, reminiscing on his last combative encounter.

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