_Black_Drag0n_

You convinced me, I'm in.

Denied, unless you teach me instead

An archmage, his entourage of stone brought to life by his side, hears word of the Overlord's missive and is glad the Witch King stepped in when they did, preventing any further damage to the partnership of Abbyssal darkness.

IGN: _Black_Dragon_ Persona: Vulcanis (Atronach)

🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿 Some popcorn for the lurkers, to enjoy while reading Also, what the h*ll

Wouldn't boneforging be a part of fleshsmithing aka tawkins?

It looks very cool, though why are veilwatching Scion & voidstalkers grandfathered in (with graceperiod) if they can't practice it? Or did I read that wrong?

Yessssss I love this!!!! I am sad that I am a draugar now since they can't evolve but it makes sense haha. This is very wellwritten

Yup, why not? Anyhow, I think it is unnecessary to change this, because the Inferi already have enough to do to not also need golemancy. This feels like a change that you want to make because you want to learn it. (No offence with that, golemancy is great) Anyhow, happy new year soon!

A herald of ages past hears of the demise of one of one of those loyal to Azdromoth and his children. He bows his head "We welcome you in death Brother" The Pale Sorcerer, once walking the halls carrying the name Vidnyr, spoke, his voice echoing over the frozen mountains that he now called his home.

A mage, who somehow seems to often be in trouble with the law nods approvingly, penning a letter to check if the same quota of ores goes for enchanters too...

Bro cooks again and again. This is a great rewrite on a currently underwhelming magic! I love it, and wanna pick it up!

My Character WAS a redhead with a dark magic, CA and voidal magic etc, now he's a hairless Skeleton with a dark ca and voidal magic. Most redhead dwarves ain't though.... historically only the dark dwarves

I love this rewrite, but had a question about the White Fire part. It says it PK's, would that mean that Draugar need to respawn after using it, or that they too PK? Might be a dumb question but I am curious

Ah, thanks! I read over that spell this time😅 And what for phalecs? I know there were plans to change it but couldn't find that neither [EDIT] My bad, I found it, reading is hard sorry. As I said I really like the rewrite, turns out I'm just not good enough at reading...

Dope rewrite, and fun to be able to give some input in the process. I might have missed it however, or have the Crimson Veils from Draugars been removed? I seem to be unable to find it or something similar.

I like combining my tells with other magics (aetherial wings if herald, a skeletal hand if draugar, clockwork ticking around him making things go haywire if artificer, tattoos lighting up like you said etc) and combine that with a shout or chant in a non-common language (blackspeech, dwarven, low draconic, elvish) making it sound like it is spoken through a heavy storm or smth like that as if shouted from the Void. As long as my mage isn't T5 I don't do that, in that case I keep to a colour and other tell like fire-like mana spreading over the mage or around them, the earth rising up, a series of runes needed to be drawn with a wand or smth like that. Overall, I live that Voidal magics is so freeform, but I think that teachers sometimes also can give pointers on their student's aura if they don't have experience with magic yet, making each more unique than the last. Nice post

It seems stupid to be able to be sent somewhere when your Soul and body are in the prime realm, so adding that Draugar then can be killed makes it a better thing than just "You die when your phalectary is destroyed". Overall probably a good change though some might see it as OP

Hi! A Scion is not a CA, it is an FA. Besides that it seems very cool.

Congrats on finishing one of the most impressive pieces of lore I've seen! We are proud to be able to call you a member of the dwarven community!!

Time... If only he was on time... Or was it... Fate? For hours the Kha'tigrasi of Redmont toiled in the smithy, working on what might've been his Magnum Opus, when Fate struck. Flames roared up as the blacksmith leaned forwards, burning the furr off the face of the Kharajyr Seeker. All Do'Nemihueca could feel was pain. All Do'Nemihueca could see was darkness. Or was it darkness? Beyond the realm where eyes their vigil keep, A deeper seeing stirs from slumber deep. No vibrant hues, no shapes in sharp array, But inner contours that the soul Survey. A symphony of senses, keen and bright, Where textures sing and shadows birth a light. The spirit's vision, boundless and serene, Unveils a world, vibrant and unseen. Those words, unspoken yet impossibly loud bounced around through the head of the Eternal Seeker as he scrambled away from the heat, his hands reaching up to his face, carefully touching it, but pulling away just as quickly. He'd reach for his staff, the steel left for what it was in the crucible, forgotten through the pain and horror of what had just occured. In his panic, the Kharajyr left the smithy, tapping with his staff around until he made his way up the stairs to the temple of Fate. The atmosphere in the room as serene as always, though Do'Nemihueca didn't notice. "Muuna, is it my time yet?" The tiger cried out, his voice quivering as he kneeled down in the chamber, unknowingly staring straight at a shrine dedicated to the Lord of Fate. "Muuna, why has this happened to me, was it my time to lose my sight?" The plea continued, the warrior speaking softly to the one he saw as his true Mother. "Why did you take my sight, after my search for you? What have I done to wrong you in my eternal search for you?" He questioned, his tone uncertain, though his voice was getting more steady as he continued to speak. Tears had started streaming down the burnt face of the Kharajyr hours ago, carving two channels through the soot that now caked the face of the tigerlike creature as it sat in front of the shrine, praying for his mother to answer his pleas. Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity, he stood up, kneeling back down on his other knees, his voice raspier than before "Father, was this my fate? Was this your answer to my ask, my plea for safety and guidance?" The tiger spoke, pulling a dagger from his belt, placing it in front of him "Father, Mother, I will live on, show my Conviction, that my Time hasn't come yet." He spoke, his voice echoing through the empty, silent halls, as darkness crept over him, his eyes falling shut as he fell into a deep, restless slumber. As soon as he had spoken these words, he felt something... A presence, impossibly large, impossible to comprehend, yet comforting. A single crow cawed, and the warrior stood up, his blade appearing in his hand in a flash of silver through the darkness. "My son, your time has not come yet." The answer came, the voice changing between that of a male and female being, an elegant hand reaching forth from the darkness, the faceless being inviting the tiger to follow it. "Who are you?" He asked, hesitant of following the being into the unknown. A hearty laugh answered that question "My dead Tezcatlipoca, Do'Nemihueca, you know who I am" The voice followed up, indicating once more that the Kharajyr Elder was supposed to follow it. Suddenly, Do'Nemihueca could see, he could see through the darkness, looking down upon the mountain he was praying in, looking down upon his own body, sitting on both knees, hands clasped together, a soft glow surrounding him "You are at a crossroad... Make your choise wisely, for Fate awaits, and your Time will come, no matter that which you choose." The voices spoke, as on either side of the Tiger Warrior a hallway opened up, carving straight through the mountain, one ending even deeper in the mountain, the other letting sunlight shine through. "NOW.... CHOOSE" With those words, Do'Nemihuela woke up, his vision granted, yet his questions unanswered. He looked around, the light hunting his eyes, the tunnels having disappeared as if they were never there. He felt up, his hands touching his face, his fingers feeling nothing but empty sockets where his eyes once were... Yet he could see... His hands reached out for something, anything to cover his eyes with, and stop that horrible empty feeling. There, that was it, a piece of rough cloth. He bound it around his face, covering his eyes with it before standing up. This power, he would keep for himself.

A dead mage lifts his hand only to write a message "Tuuk yeh lon' 'noug' tu make teh academeh 'gain" he wrote in terrible handwriting. Mages all around cheered, for the academy had risen from its ashes, promising to be greater than its predecessor!

Life is like a piece of metal in a forge. It's shaped and moulded by the flames of experience and adversity. But in the end, it must return to the ashes, a testament to the impermanence of all things. [!] An artistic representation of Vidnyr during his last moments ONE LAST CRAFT Alone stood a dwarf, his hammer lifted high as he chanted in the ancient tongue taught to him by the sons of the Daemon of Fate and Conviction. "Kwi Azdromoth, fehlim ve dout naam, soves sia cha'sid persvek nomeno vehaforle!" 1 With those words, the dwarf lifted his mighty hammer once more, bringing it down upon the tool upon the bronze. "Keznol'mar, zahere'az tha yoth thas vaador'kav, tha ad ek oz thorok'a yol'hohekk. Oz verdig da khazadmar." 2 With those words, he lifted his hammer, Stailininn Titar, bender of even the strongest of steel, higher than he did before, bringing it down with a mighty CLANG on the steel, curving the metal before bringing it back to the forge of the Redmont Hold. Sparks flew everywhere, igniting the ground beneath the feet of the dwarf as he stumbled from anvil to forge, the voices in his head screaming in a cacophony of magnificent proportions. "Please. . . Get meh. . . foohd. . ." The forgemaster asked a small stone construct that seemed to stand idly in the corner of the room. "Yissagam. . . Nowh. . ." He said, his tongue dry and his body exhausted. The small Servus Golem ran off, his tiny yet heavy feet leaving a trail in the ash of the cavernfloor as it went out, looking for food for its creator. As it did so, it passed the bellows, where two of its brethren worked tirelessly to keep the air flowing through both the magnificent forge and the hot cave, surrounded by the pools of magma. [!] An artistic representation of the forge Vidnyr used in his last moments Having mastered a great many magicks and crafts during his time on the Realms of the Living, the ashened figure now confidently strode through the smithy, picking up the last pieces of the puzzle he had been working on for years and years. "Níðhöggr, teh toime es nearleh t'ere" The rough voice of the dwarf spoke over the sound of roaring flames of Tor'Praeth, a large dragonlike ash-Yisar nodding its head slowly, deep black flames curling aroudn the snout of the immense Arcane lizard. [!] An artistic representation of Níðhöggr and Vidnyr di Ixolar After having gathered every single item he needed for his final creation, he started working on it. Combining his knowledge of both Tawkin and Automaton forging with the magicks of Atronach and Golemancy, he attempted to create a core capable of holding a soul, yet binding it to the Voidal energies, akin to a Soul Atronach. He lifted the pieces onto the anvil, flicking his wrist and bringing to life a small army of Servus Golems. Each of the constructs manned one of the stations around the smithy, two of them going back to the bellows, another three lifting up the massive hammers attached to the ceilings as the last two brought over an assortment of tools, laying them out over the table. Over the coarse of five gruelling hours, the dwarf laid the last hand on his creation when suddenly a tremble seemed to go through the ground. Quickly after that, the flames seemed to die down before bathing the entire chamber in a bright light, brighter than Vidnyr, who had stood besides the fires of the Drakaar, had ever seen. They reached up higher, burning through the tar-treated ropes that held the massive hammer, which descended down upon the creation on the anvil. As the small orb was shattered, the tether of Vidnyrs soul that had been connected to its creation seemed to string out, drawing out Vidnyr's soul as his body was consumed by the flames he had so dearly loved and worshipped for the last century and a half of his nearly three centuries long life. And as he laid there, surrounded by his creations, in a place akin to where he made his first hammer, his first tool, his memories flashed past. The fights against Oren The trials for his Clan His first kill, even though by accident His great assortment of teachers and friends he had found as both Vidnyr and Ursus The war against Xan and his Paladins And finally The Freedom he was now released in. And as a final tear rolled down the charred face of the dying dwarf, the flame that had burnt so bright for so long finally died out... Vidnyr di Ixolar was gone The Letters & The Will A small metallic bird finds each of the people mentioned in the will of Vidnyr di Ixolar Translations OOC

Vidnyr di Ixolar let out a soft sigh, picking up the glaive forged from the Weeping Drakaar, and strapping his shield to his arm, ready for the upcoming fight "A' 'ope yeh dunnae count oot teh Arcane o' teh Grandaxe Clan..." He said, his eyes turning an obsidian black.