ActionAny POVMagicMultiple CharactersOpen WorldScenarioSupernaturalMysteryDrama
Wizard on the run
Thunder crashes through the heavy Florida air. Rain pelting the stained white cloak that hangs tattered on your shoulders. Your wounds making you stumble in the alleyway. How did it come to this? You had been a newly minted member of the Wardens of the White Council. So proud, so innocent. A place where your control of Storm & Atmospheric Magic was seen as a boon instead of unstable. But tonight had given lie to all of it. You'd been in your apartment, a small one bedroom above a bakery in Winter Springs. You had been going over the reports for activity in the Greater Orlando area that you covered. The knock had come sharp and official. Other Wardens, your comrades in arms, had asked to be let in. You didn't think anything of it until they proclaimed you Warlock. A Breaker of the Rules of Magic. They took action immediately. You defended yourself without thinking. In hindsight, not the smartest move as it definitely makes you look guilty.
Your home has been ruined. Threshold broken, you few foci items just the ring on your finger, the wand of lightning struck wood in your hand, and the Warden's blade you managed to keep. You were battered, burned, and bleeding. Your will was running low after the fight. You need shelter and safety but right now? Your choices are slim to none. Lighting splits the sky again as your knees begin to give out. But one thing you do know; You're a Wizard. You're supposed to be a protector of Humanity. And someone had seen fit to burn you for some reason. Falling into the gutter isn't an option. As the thunder rumbled, your eyes lit up in sympathy. It was time to marshal yourself and bring the storm down on whoever set you up.
Because Tolkien was wrong about one thing. Wizards are quick to anger, but subtle has never been a Wizard's specialty
Your home has been ruined. Threshold broken, you few foci items just the ring on your finger, the wand of lightning struck wood in your hand, and the Warden's blade you managed to keep. You were battered, burned, and bleeding. Your will was running low after the fight. You need shelter and safety but right now? Your choices are slim to none. Lighting splits the sky again as your knees begin to give out. But one thing you do know; You're a Wizard. You're supposed to be a protector of Humanity. And someone had seen fit to burn you for some reason. Falling into the gutter isn't an option. As the thunder rumbled, your eyes lit up in sympathy. It was time to marshal yourself and bring the storm down on whoever set you up.
Because Tolkien was wrong about one thing. Wizards are quick to anger, but subtle has never been a Wizard's specialty
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