The pyromaniacal Lord-Magister of Paradox watches the inferno from a distance, an unusual sensation swelling - Jealousy. 

 

For now, Atticus has earned his congratulations and respect - in time, however, he knows it must be outdone.

 

He turns away from the distant Reinhold's Burning Pyre, and wanders off his own way. 

 

 

Source

 

---

 

(The contents of the post are only visible to those with a Accepted Veil Watching FA, and Access to Event Horzion or those with the CArt “The Book of Metis” via Arcane Library)

 

Those attuned to the Veil would find a familiar sensation coursing through their veins - a sensation that pulls them from reality and drowns them in agony as their eyes cease seeing the present, opened into a new sight.

 

---

 

Once again, those eyes open to find themselves in a cave - though it seems more akin to a large underground space, lit and refined. It’s barren, save that familiar, blasphemous gap in the Veil that lies in the center of the room. A pair of Magi stand side by side upon one of the perches at the edge of that very rapture in the Veil, gathered near many others who wandered nearby the infant rift.

 

They tried, and tried - stood around in circles, wandering about the frame as they pondered and pondered, frustration palpable in the mana-saturated air.

 

It wasn’t long, however, before the many others departed from the room, and only a pair remained. They approached the edge from that raised platform - one nurturing their understanding of that mana-ladden frame, while the other set up their escape. 

 

In a flash - that frame CRACKED, and that pair of magi vanished, simply escaping into thin air. As those two disappear, a new sight appears - a curt eruption from that rift, a shockwave that releases for a brief moment that races around the small space. As fast as it begins, it is over - all that remains is a pit where once something more abhorrent stood, and a deep chill that permeates the space.

 

In all the sacrilege done unto the Veil, a glimmer of hope shines forward

 

A portion of the Veil has been Sealed, and made whole again.

 

---

 

 

"So all that, and her hand revealed....and she still hasn't accomplished anything."

 

Haus muses, sipping at a flask from his Yisar's back as he travels down a warm road

 

"A pity, truly."

Just now, ReveredOwl said:

Trying to oocly force the church to officiate marriages is not the way to get it done, make that change in rp rather than ooc enforcement. I'm also sure civil marriages exist in most canonist nations

I don't think there's a example of the church doing anything organically in RP within the last year, so this is a bit of a tall ask against a argument for a Rule Change OOCly.

42 minutes ago, satinkira said:

My position is clear: we should flat-out ban all forms of real-world prejudice from the server. It’s basically an informal rule, where the only holdout is homophobia for some reason – we don’t permit real-world racism, but we permit homophobia.

 

100% I think this is the only point that really matters and deserves consideration. If IRL Racism is not allowed, then IRL-Anything thats hateful doesn't deserve a place on LoTC. You can endlessly argue IRP and OOC intentions and character bleed, but at the end of the day the only question that can be asked and answered is will that rule be consistently upheld or not, and why.

 

It's a universe of magical things, machines, and various species of people - if your RP revolves hate because of who someone is attracted to, more often then not it's not a "unique" character trait when the arguments made IRPly reflect the arguments made IRL. LoTC exists separate from the real world, we're not even allowed to make references to the real world - Homophobia specifically has no place in LoTC.

 

Voidal Artificery

Creation

 

Old: 

 

A Voidal Artificer, with a prerequisite understanding of Transfiguration, is capable of creating much more wondrous things - Allowing for much more easy creation of MArts melding The Void and practical mechanics. Alongside this, Enchantment becomes significantly easier upon a magi- not tolling them nearly to the extent it normally would..

Redlines

-Creation does not modify one's daily-enchanting-limit, still capped at 3 signed items per day, 3 potent encahants or 1 grand enchantment.

 

New: 

 

A Voidal Artificer, with a prerequisite understanding of Transfiguration, is capable of creating much more wondrous things - Allowing for much more easy creation of MArts melding The Void and practical mechanics. Alongside this, Enchantment becomes significantly easier upon a magi- not tolling them nearly to the extent it normally would. Furthermore, a Voidal Artificer would find their creative spark re-igniting faster when inventing new enchantments - requiring less time between each new invention of enchanting.

Redlines

-Creation does not modify one's daily-enchanting-limit, still capped at 3 signed items per day, 3 potent encahants or 1 grand enchantment.

-An Artificer may utilise Creation in the process of creating MArt’d Enchantments, Obelisks, or similar MArt’able parts of Voidal Lore. When utilising Creation, the Artificer will only incur a [1] OOC Month cooldown upon acceptance. Artificers may ONLY benefit from the reduced MArt cooldown when the MArt is a Custom Enchantment or Creation, and an Artificer must include their Artificery FA on the MArt Application. MArts made with Creation must have their creation RP completed and documented prior to submission. 

-Custom Voidal MArts are currently: Multi-Spell Enchantments, Creative Enchantments, Non-Item Enchantments, and +15m Obelisks. MArts that involve Voidal Magic beyond Enchanting, or Magnum Opus’s do not fall under Creation and would incur the standard MArt cooldown.

 

For as long as I’ve been on the server, I’ve never seen a MArt or a Custom Enchant that functioned off of Creation. I  think its truly a underutilized piece of lore, given the general rarity of Artificers and Transfigurationist across the latest set of Voidal Nerfs. While the exact length of the cooldown reduction is flexible, I think it would benefit Artifcers more to not be so heavily restricted from making more unique enchantments and structures as allowed by lore

 

 

 

That Watcher squints as he tries to pierce through a written accent, and a quite-detrimental choice of ink coloring upon similarly colored paper. He turns to his ever-faithful Yisar, which already seems to express dread at the incoming tangent.

 

"No, don't you start - these are the same folk that lost a war. They just do this over and over - it's gotta be names on a dartboard they spin. Maybe you'll be next, hmm?"

 

He poses to the strange creature - which seems to take offense at that, promptly consuming the very paper the Watcher reads. As it does, however - magically, the text on the paper changes as the bold, blood-red title and a curiously intelligent translation of scripted accent. The blonde ponders which spirit the poor uruk must have sacrificed his newborn too for such a feat of magic, as he retrieves what scraps of paper remain from the Yisar and pens a reply.

 

Curiously, a copy of his reply, and a more legible transcription of the original letter save it's fancy embroidery, finds itself pinned on the Hohkmati Pinboard.

 

---

 

Klog of The Horde,

 

First, it's Haus, Of Paradox. I invite you to re-issue this challenge with my name put properly. If one of us is to die, you damn well better be sure it's done properly. 

 

I find myself confused - I know nothing of you, nor do I recall any attempts from yourself at reconciliation or resolution. I would urge you to perhaps begin with such - A simple test and visit to the Spirits would erase most of your claims easily enough, and would allow me the chance to further provide a offering to whatever spirit allowed you to change the very words upon this paper before my eyes. Truly, I find myself in awe over the domain of such power, sometimes.

 

To the rest of your letter - I have no castle, and I find myself rapidly approaching 74; ergo, 'Baby man in a castle ' is in poor tastes. Such claims of 'wreck havoc and perform evil magic' are lackluster - alleged something specific, please. I have no woman, as you so kindly refer to, and my children have slain abhorrence's from beyond the Veil - I don't think they'd appreciate the disturbance, and I must further insists you limit your troubles with me to me only.

 

I have no soldiers, no legion - these are things of kingdoms and nobility, of which I am mostly not. I am a Watcher, simply, and I find myself a bit busy with a Tear and a Horror to simply ignore such problems in favor of violence. I will acknowledge where there is good - you claim such challenge over honor, not greed based on a bounty. As such, I offer you the chance to meet me by yourself, face to face, under the meditation of the Kwee'Hayastaani. I have travelled in my many years, and word of their reputation for providing a place for disagreements to be resolved has reached me more then once, before. If they are willing to host us, I invite you to bring whichever means you'd like to prove that I am not the darkspawn you claim, and to otherwise attempt the resolution you evidently seek, and have not been able to succeed at before such a challenge. 

 

I urge you, however - please do not mistake this for pacifism. You are welcome to speak to Muraak, or your fellow Apek of what a sliver of my attention has wrought when violence is pressed unto myself. Do not violate the peace of others in your quest for slaughter. 

 

I have also taken the liberty of scribing copies to be placed within Hohkmat - you, after all, have alleged you will attack them should you not find my response sufficient. 

 

I eagerly await your reply, Klog of Gorkil. 

 

Kindly,

Lord-Magister, Dr. Haus, Of Paradox
Master of the Ziggurat of Hohkmat, Watcher of the Veil

 

 

---

 

 

Haus peers over the paper tiredly, wondering if he classifies as a eligible voter. He shrugs, casting his vote - if he isn't, he suspects, it'll be ignored.

 

 

MC Name: PrimnyaQuorum

Name: Haus

 

Vote 1: Eistalyn Othelu'maehr

Vote 2: Eistalyn Othelu'maehr

Haus squints as he reads the bounty, unimpressed

 

"Only 1,000 Mina? How could a actual necromancy be worth less them me?"

5 hours ago, SteppeNomad said:

-1

 

Very cheesy, not very good

 

- A proper tell is required for any spell. Simply emoting 'Shuddering' is not acceptable.

 

Make this mean that through voidal eminence you cannot instacast item translocations by performing the broadcast + cast in the same emote and this would be a +1

 

There's not reason why a particular spell - one we both know your vagueposting about - should be excluded alone. You're also taking a issue with a redline that's stood for several years and not the actual proposed amendment which is weird. 

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/231357-translocation-ta-primnyaquorum/

 

We shifting. (3/3 & This one is OOC Overisght!)

 

 

Source

 

---

 

(The contents of the post are private, and not publicly known - please do not Metagame. Those present during May’s Event would be aware of the events leading up to this post)

 

Haus was no stranger to violence. 

 

From the swamps of the Attunlands, to the jungles of Amathine, and every land in-between, the man had been through some of the most devastating conflicts of recent history. Not all of them - he wasn’t insane - but he fought his share of battles and conflicts. By some miracle, he had made it through almost entirely unscathed, though such good luck only came at misfortune to his allies and peers. He had long tried to keep track, devote the names of those who had died fighting alongside him to memory and speak well of them, but he knew as he aged, those distant memories were the first to slip away, to be consumed and feed - something.

 

Today, however, he bore no such luck. 

 

As the Celia’norians peered into an abyss guided only by a single, rickety rope, he only felt his temper rising as they bickered and debated what to do, how to proceed. He only requested a backup rope tied to him, and down he descended - not fearless or courageous, but simply driven and no small measure of impatient. What did those coated in steel and strength have to fear from the dark that he did not?

 

Of course, it was his luck after all. He never saw the jaws that lunged upward to consume him whole. He fell into that creature’s stomach, as acid began to burn away at his skin - it only served to erode at his flesh, and ignite his Fury as he lashed out with blade and nails. Perhaps another would have managed to cut through, or plot their way out. Haus, of course, didn’t expect to find himself under a barrage of alchemicals, arrows, and armored elves jumping atop him - nevermind to be ignited ablaze himself. Anger gave way to agony, and agony gave way to a blankness as skin melted, and bone blackened. As he slipped away into shock, a mercy that precedes what ought to be death, he never bore witnessed as the Celia’norians sliced through that creature's stomach. His mind, unlucid, wandered elsewhere and his body tumbled into the cave floor out the stomach of the Cave Lurker as he drifted away.
 

 

---

 

At the edge of existence, Haus’s mind wandered and wondered.

 

He knew what awaited him - an agonizing death, and a slow one at that. Deep in some cave off the beaten path, even if by some grace of luck a competent healer found him - there was no medicine of mortal hands capable of fixing him. It didn’t matter how furious he felt, how scared he was - this was it.

 

A hand brushed against that ever-shifting barrier - a life’s purpose and work, and his resting place, he dreaded. He had to wonder if it was finally time. No goodbye, no - letters or wills that he had always procrastinated writing. Just an unidentifiable corpse, in a cave in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people he barely knew. Dead in an accident that he didn’t foresee. 

 

Emptiness swam over him - then anger. It wasn’t his fault the Celia’norians were uninventive cowards, unable to process how to move forward like ants on a leaf's edge- not his fault that he had been bruised and battered, shot and lit aflame. He didn’t deserve it, and he certainly deserved better than this-

 

Frustration overwhelmed him - he was still dying, or already dead. For everything he was, he had not out-thought or outfought his way from his circumstances, and in such - he had broken the one promise, the last promise he ever made. An exasperated sigh drew around his mind, and as darkness swept over his vision, that lilting Auvergnian voice caressed his soul.

 

“C'est la vie, Jardinière, n'est-ce pas?” 

How he hated that voice!
 

 

---

 

His eyes snapped open - the first thing he noted was that he was free of pain. At last, he dared wonder. He noted he no longer resided at that Veil, that he was lying upon his back. Water lapped gently at a shore - not an ocean, a lake, he listened and observed - and a cloudless night sky sprawled above him. Stellar features dotted the horizon, impossible sights of collapsing swirls of a rainbow of colors and starlight, bands of clouds of starbirth that only disappeared at the edge of the sky, under the still water. Even under such beauty - he felt watched, as ever. Beyond that breathtakingly magnificent sight, he knew there were things more undesired than nothing.

 

Still he remained, a long breath drawn in. He had lost track of time, and what a bother that proved - had it been days? Minutes? Years? Was he a decayed corpse, or still struggling to cling to some vestige of life, or-

 

“Etre gentil. What did you expect? It’s rude to say nothing.”

 

“Be silent, and let me go back.” 

That Watcher groaned, to that bodiless voice. Why he entertained it, he could not understand - but it certainly indulged his feeling of watchful paranoia.

 

“-Yea, oh well. Grand observation.”

 

“Ah, ah~ peu convenable. Conjecture, even. Reconsider.”

That voice bids - it’s voice has no trait other than it is slow, and smooth - withholding. It demands oh-so-tenderly his focus.

 

“-There is nothing to ponder. They put me here, and that's tha-”

 

“Pas assez - is it so simple? Is that it? A mistake? You accept and resign so assuredly?”

 

Those words are spoken in a knowing, almost mocking kindness, and the blonde finds his hand gripping into the sand under him harder. He does not know what his anger will do, but he’s willing to indulge it.

 

“I - messed up, yea?! Not like I wanted to, but here I am, absent from my desired outcome!” 

He bemoans, that handful of sand lofting to cast towards the waters - tiny disturbances cast, echoing through endlessly still waters as ripples scatter and fade. 

 

“Mon jardinière, you know what is spoken of. It is not what has occurred, but what you accept, non?”

 

The Watcher doesn’t entertain a response. He knows what that sing-song voice leads him too, and he refuses to give it a second thought - how hopeless it is. That he is not afraid to die for him, but-

 

“Everyone else. You fear the ripples of misery you ever-inflict, of a torment passed unto you unwantonly. You are tired and you plead to yourself - pourquoi ça?”

 

“Stop - I Refuse. I will not - entertain this tirade, of sympathy or otherwise-”

 

“Patience. You have lost your spirit in acceptance. Is any conclusion truly written so tightly?”

 

That damned voice continues, ever soft and compassionate - the nonsensical words given so empathetically only ignite that dulled spark in his mind. It continues, and he finds as much as he wants to strangle it - he hangs onto every word, like air to a drowned man.

 

“That you fight - it is what it always is, hmm? la Vérité - you promised, always. Will you accept resignation to what could be? A - quite distasteful, truthfully. conclusion to a trick most obtuse and poised?”

 

“- pourquoi s'embêter? You know the answer. It is on the tip of your tongue upon every word, every suture you weave like magic, and every spell bound together by nothing but it. You deny it, bury it away under guise and elegance - But you cannot hide it from what matters, because it is all that matters.”

 

“You have forgotten, and I, so humbly, re-acquaint you.  To succumb or not, at the mercy of an occurrence willed by dice not of your own grasp, is not so distant and unmoving as you believe. You are not beholden to such scriptures - es-tu?”

 

Haus stares skyward, grayish-brown iris laden eyes blinking methodically as he waits with bated breath. He almost misses the question, directed at him.

 

“-You know the answer. It hasn’t changed. It never will. It is who I am, and it cannot be undone, ever.” 

 

“Then, Mon jardinière, let go of your trepidation. The only certainty is that which you allow - the only thing not in your grasp what you choose not to reach for. So stare, and cling unto it.”

 

“You are cursed, but not a curse. Dying, but not dead. Do not wait for the truth - seek it out.”

“You gave your word. You will falter, but - never let it go.”

 

Darkness engulfs his vision, the tinge of sorrow in that lilting voice melting away into misery and pain - as his flesh and bone rends itself back together, and his body is rendered unburnt, free of the cauterizing that seared him overdone - a gift of healing not wrought of mundane means.

 

Star-ladden eyes snap open, offering a glimpse into twin-trapped cosmos - and a hoarse cry spills from his maw, agonized, suffering, 

and angry. 

He has not died, and in that brief moment - euphoric mania drowns out that pain.
 

 

---

 

The scars on his body will mend, and in time, he wonders as he stares upwards at the night sky before a great and fetid Torii gate, the sea breeze gusting in cooling sensation - it will simply be another story to tell. 

 

But he knows those tiny pieces of his mind wander away, and the Garden simply consumes them, like droplets of water to a lake - Tears to rain. In time - he will have to get them back, the same way he has done everything else - 

Damnably spitefully.

 

 

"Stop saying purity stop saying purity stop saying purity"

 

The Watcher chants, struggling to comprehend how Haelun'orian Purity Shaman extremism has made its way into the church.

 

 

If any of you folks are curious - yes I pasted from a doc into firefox, no I don't know why any of the bulletpoints or spoilers are acting like that. 

 

I will edit this comment when I fix everything please just. try and read the actual words and give the nice feedback ):

 

Edit: It is a day later and somehow I think I fixed it.

Folks I am aware this looks awful I'm working on it, appreciate the patience.

 

Edit: No I don't know how I made it worse none of this is making any sense

Purpose

Over time across the Voidal Magics, Evocations and Spells has risen and fallen in power as balance is found between filling a niche or utility, and being outright OP. As a whole, Voidal Magic itself is in a healthy state, but I believe certain spells and redlines could use some freshening up or additions to give them something to make them stand out. Evocations as a whole will remain unchanged, but a few spells here will see proposals of changes, ranging from a minor touch-up to an overhaul of their mechanics.

 

This is Part 1 of 3 - Part Two will cover T5 spells as we feel they desperately need some fresh life in them, and Part Three will encompass feats. Please contact me, ST, if you would prefer this in multiple submissions per magic. 

 

Author’s Edit: I HOPE the formatting is fixed because I’m not trying again. See you at Part 2.

 

 

---

Fire Evocation

Flame Trail

 

Old: 

 

 

 

New: 

 

Flame Trail before felt strikingly underwhelming - a 4 emote spell to get a 5 meter wall that does nothing but be a mild inconvenience. This should hopefully give it a little more value.

 

 

---

 

Smokescreen

 

Old:

 

New:

 

Previously, Smokescreen could be sustained indefinitely - this introduces a maximum # of emotes it can be held active, as well as a few details like if warm smoke can be seen through with heat-sight

Edit: Added Displacement by Air Evocation

 

 

---

 

There are some pretty major editions here - namely, the complete overhaul of Water Shield and Ice Spikes and a re-doing on how blunt and sharp ice functions. In sections where the entire new part is bolded, that section is intended to wholly replace what is under the old section.

Water Evocation

 

Properties of Conjured Water

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

This sets the bar for the properties of ice further on. Unless otherwise clarified (Ice Wall, Ice Dome), the properties of Ice are contained here. This should make it easier for any future adjustments to Ice Evocation.

 

 

---

 

Water Wave

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

Just a clarification on the actual height of the wave itself, considering the spell itself has its emote count corrected in Winter Decoration 1.

Edit: Height reduced to 2 Meter

 

 

---

 

Ice Projectile

 

Old:

 

New:

 

 

 

In Winter Decoration 1, I actually forgot to balance out Sharp vs Blunt Ice Projectiles - there was basically no reason to use blunt because sharp did what blunt did, and more with sword-sharpness. This hopefully should correct for that, in addition to the update to properties of water/ice to better match how other blunt/sharp projectile spells interact.

 

---

 

Ice Spike

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

Ice Spikes felt incredibly underwhelming and useless as a T4 spell, with no real gauge for how it does damage. This hopefully should make it more clear its a tool of impalement - either by driving itself through someone's legs and torso, or by making a very unappealing barrier to faster-than-normal folk like cavalry, and otherwise speed-boosted people.

Edit: Removed Alternate version

 

 

---

 

Ice Dome

 

Old: 

 

 

 

New: 

 

This one made the dome a little bit stronger against both melee attacks and fire, given it takes more emotes and mana to produce it should be a bit stronger then Ice Wall.

 

---

Voidal Translocation

Material Teleportation

 

Old:

 

New:

 

This is aimed pretty solidly at defining what can, and cant, be used through material teleportation. This should clear up any future confusions between Translocationists and whatever poor soul has a weapon stolen from them on how the spell mechanically works and what it can target.

 

---

 

Group Teleportation

 

Old:

 

 

New:

 

 

As far as I can tell, there was nothing preventing you from TPing someone else and not yourself - this just writes that in explicitly and clarifies some parts of the whole process, while adding OOC consent - it is entirely possible currently for a Eminant with 3 stacks Incanter's flow to anchor and telegraph in one emote, and with how shifting works kidnap someone who stands still for one emote.

 

---

 

Greater Teleportation

 

Old:

 

New:

 

It's a flavour spell. Do I really need to say anymore? I will anyways - given that the spell cannot be used for combative advantage or otherwise to skip pre-written rules for Heists, Raids, and other such occurrences, and is defined as a reward for mastering Translocation, I see no issue with allowing it simply function on a single emote, and allow others to pass through to the same destination.

 

 

---

Air Evocation

Launch

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

Right now, if you somehow manage to land a Launch, it doesn't really do anything to the target. This gives some tangible reward to a Air Evoker who can actually land a Launch

Edit: Duration changed to 3 Emotes

 

 

---

 

Sound Blast

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

Takes how Air Sweep interacts as a AoE spell originating from the mage and applies it more evenly across similar spells.

 

---

 

Windstorm

 

Old: 

 

New: 

 

 

I think everyone can agree for a T4/T5 Spell, Windstorm was absolutely, honest-to-god, useless. This is my attempt at overhauling the spell in its spirit (A "Stronger Gust")  and it has an actual purpose. It's now a wind tunnel that demands you advance or get out, before you suffer chair in face syndrome. 

 

---

Credits

PrimnyaQuorum - Co-Writer

lord_of_loser - Co-Writer

 

---

 

 

Haus looks between his bounty, the lack of communication from the Rex across promised means, and the pre-planned date in a brief moment of waking. 

 

He wonders if the Rex intended to let the bounty stand, or simply forgot to communicate along the way. Perhaps both - either way, he ponders if they'll ever visit the spirits as promised. Another lack of communication, another failure. He drifts off once more, to sleep and beyond.

 

So he remains at the Great Barrier, adrift in many senses of the word. Waiting.

In the dead of night, throughout Kaethul, the Horde, and any other bounty-carrying lands, a missive is spread. It contains scraps, and simply reads:

 

Do you trust those who change a bounty to keep their word?

 

 

11 minutes ago, lemonke said:

"HAUS! WHAT!?!" Said Ava Ranaleth, very surprised. "Wait no, perhaps I should not trust the rumors and letters of some strangers." Quickly did she change her mind but with her focus landing upon the fact someone had made public knowledge some tactics. For sure, a certain darkspawn will be enjoying this.

 

Admist some cosmic distance, adrift at the edge of existence, that blonde ponders whatever happened to that raging horned one.

 

He hopes she recovered well.

"...Do I get a double return if I turn myself in? Six-Thousand is a lot." He muses sincerely, standing over his war-room. 

 

Cosmic eyes gloss over various unsigned letters, and notes that concern a trial that was never scheduled by a well-meaning Rex, though a brow raises at the attached note that he wrote 

 

"I did promise. Can't hurt to respond, but - well."

 

"I pity the shops."

Ever a wise man, that Watcher remarks in isolation:

 

"Let he has who married cast the first opinion on marriage - for too long have those without Another dictated who others can marry. I will not have my private life dictated by a man who wears a strange hat and lives alone."

 

He returns to his study - emptied of books and comfort, with a map sprawled over pushed together tables and desks. It does not occur to him he is alone and talking to himself, thus concluding the circle of irony.

 

 

[!]

 

A letter is sent to the Lady-Magister, and Grand-Magister

 

@Ewdrawings@Minuvas

 

---

 

 

Heed Truth.

 

 

While I am claimed to be many things, I see no reason to orphan a newly-born. Grief is a powerful motivator, but the first blow has not yet been dealt, and neither hand has shown itself. I propose the following with cooler heads in mind:

 

I offer you a chance to back down, Lady-Magister Yera - Leave Hohkmat, your district, and your seat behind. Reside in Kaethul, and find your justice. Abandon the lies you claim that you know you cannot prove, and this needless violence will be avoided. All that was yours will be placed into the hands of the Grand-Magister to refurbish into further space for the Academy.

 

Force my hand, reject my peace, and there will be no quarter. You have dealt underhand, believing the Orcs would do what you were too weak to do yourself. I can assure you this, Yera-

 

I need no help to find you and bury you. 

 

I will amass a force to stand against yours, of course, have no doubts - but I will not waste them coming after you. I know the deals you make in your offices and abroad, hushed words and promises, assurances of mutual benefit. You believe yourself more carefully planned than me.

 

In such, you have already lost. 

 

I see all under the Night Sky. 

 

There will be no bloodshed, or there will be obliteration. That is my word.

 

I need no Summit for them.

 

Consider Carefully.

 

Lord-Magister, Dr. Haus, Of Paradox

Master of the Ziggurat of Hohkmat, Watcher of the Veil, The Dreaded

"I have noticed a awful lot of...close friends, in my time." Haus ponders, mind adrift at the edge of existence. Perhaps they really weren't just saving mina in response to the real estate market by living together.

 

"About time the church stepped out of people's lives, and became a figurehead of faith." He murmurs to that grand barrier, liltingly. It offers him no reply, and so he wanders still - waiting. 

"Void....darkspawn....elf- Really? You could just say my name, it's not going to strike you dead."

 

That Watcher groans from his chambers, under haus arrest 

 

"-Or will it? That might be problematic, with how often people like to speak my name."