Mage Wars Fan Fiction

"Tales of a Mad Mage"
By: themadone

Part 8: Delirious


Nespa looked almost reverent as she stepped up to the large shrouded table and lifted her hands ceremoniously over an ominous shape hidden by the canvas.

“Step forward Blue Magus and prepare yourself.”

Higgson could sense a new tenseness in the room as the raw Mana was manipulated. He stepped closer for a better look at the witch’s work, but remained well behind the Blue Mage for safety. Luckily, as far as the spell-casters were concerned, he might as well be just a wall decoration now.

The former Paladin looked at the mage’s face, and the look there was again one he would never forget. It reminded him nothing more than of a wolf-pup about to get fed his first real taste of a fresh kill.

“Mistress? You have a petitioner my Queen. Will you speak?”

After only a moment’s wait, movement from under the canvas shroud made Higgson realize that there was a humanoid shape hidden underneath it. He wondered who this person was… but stopped himself as the smell of decay intensified suddenly.

Foul Necromancy! His Paladin training immediately came to the fore and he backed up and grasped his sword hilt tightly, yet again wondering why he was following this old fool of a mage.

“Draw that sword without cause Sir Higgson and I promise you a death you would never believe possible.” The witch had not moved and still held her hands over the slowly moving shroud. Yet the threat she presented seemed more than casual.

A hiss emanated from the shroud’s head, little muffled by the canvas. Its voice seemed a combination of several different ones, both male and female, but after a few seconds seemed to settle into a husky female voice. Embarrassingly, Higgson found himself slightly aroused as the voice spoke fully.  

“Nesssspa‘Rill? Sssweet-one… You called?”

Higgson goggled suddenly at whom he realized was talking through the dead body under the shroud. It must be what the figure was: a corpse. He had heard the stories of the Bog Queen's power, but to actually witness it… To be able to speak through any corpse within her reach! Morweena's power was difficult to contemplate by a sane mind and made his fascination of her voice all the more terrifying.

“Yes mistress. I have a petitioner with me who begs an audience.”

A pregnant pause stilled the omnipresent smoke in the room. Higgson felt as if a butterfly or moth flittered over his head and swatted at it, but caught nothing.

“Have Sir Vadicc the Blue… sssstep forward.”


The elderly mage stroked his flowing beard as he half-stepped forward and kneeled.
“Your Majesty. N’Wuaa-thot breen. Nome na‘taa? Voltorisma! Strucontor! Begpexy streen na’taa: Vrag.”

The stream of words from Vadicc was gibberish to Higgson, but the witch’s reactions to them were obvious. Surprise and contemplation both warred on her features.

“You sssspeek eloquently Vadicc, and do me honor when you hold no allegiance. With the same respect therefore I will do the same and be honest with you in return. Yes, the Mage-Rod of Voltorisssma can be re-made. You ssshould not do ssso. It will be the end of things.”

The Bog Queen’s reply was fully understandable, but the stench under the tarp grew proportionally as she continued and made listening more difficult. Higgson started breathing through just his mouth, but it only helped a little.

Vaddic’s respectful tone vanished, “You think I’m incapable? Too old?” He stood slowly and leaned heavily on his staff, as if his knees pained him through the process. His shoulders shook, whether in rage or pain he could not tell.

The ancient voice quavered, as it laughed gently. “Too old? No Vadicc the Vain. Too powerful! You have no true need of it. Powerful isss the Rod… yesss, power itssself… but the cossst...”

“I will pay it! Breesh! North’da Voltorisma!”

Another pregnant pause silenced the room. Higgson was almost to the point of losing his stomach, and the only thing holding him back was the thought of Nespa burning him to a cinder for messing up her floor.

“Conta’raa! Obssseelie, moon-florydi gaan. Ontra voy qua’to…”

This continued for a few minutes. Vadicc stood still and listened carefully, only shaking his head slowly in assent and grunting every once in a while in the affirmative. A slow trickle of black-looking viscous fluid was flowing from under the canvas tarp onto the floor now too. It steadily built up a huge pool under the dark-wood table. The stench of the gore ripened fully with its appearance.

Higgson couldn’t hold back any longer and rushed to the exit and flung his vomit over the side of the hut’s meager stick railing. He even managed not to vomit on the Familiar or the Minotaur bodyguard below. The undead snail was not so lucky.

Pale and barely conscious after vomiting for several minutes, he thought he saw a delicate hand in the smoke billowing from the cabin reach out and stroke his tired face. A gentle and very familiar voice calmed him in his mind, “Be at peace my love. That was not for you to hear…”

Suddenly the gentle caress altered and gripped his chin. The smoke hand felt hard as bone. A pale skull of smoke appeared and spoke again into his head with the voice of the Bog Queen herself, “You will have to kill him. Unless he gives up this insanity of the Voltorisma you cannot leave his side. Prevent the chaos! Close that door for good!”

The skull writhed in the smoke silently and moved to his face as if for a lover’s kiss… and then Higgson saw only dreams and nightmares.

Again...apologies for basic editing and rules mistakes. I'm doing this at work and away from my source matierials:

Invisible Caltrops Trap
Enchantment/Trap
Casting Cost:3/2
School: Force1 or War 1
Range: 0-1
Target: 1 Target Square unooccupied by an enemy creature or Mage.

This trap activates as soon as a non-flying creature enters the sqaure it is in.

Target creature takes 1 Point of Direct Damage, and is now Slow (or it loses the Fast ability)
until it heals at least 1 point of damage.

Card Quote: "Invisible magical Caltrops? That's just not fair!"

___________________________________________________

Witch Wire Trap
Enchantment/Trap
Casting Cost:3/4
School: Force1 or War 1
Range: 0-1
Target: 1 Target Square unooccupied by an enemy creature or Mage.

This trap activates as soon as a flying creature enters the square it is in.

Target flying creature takes 3 dice of direct  Damage, and is considered grounded
until the end of its next turn.

Card Quote: "I may be an Angel... but hitting an invisible wire at 50mph is a one
hell'uva bitch!"

_____________________________________________________

Stinging Nettles Trap
Enchantment/Trap
Casting Cost:3/2
School: Nature1 or War 1
Range: 0-1
Target: 1 Target Square unooccupied by an enemy creature or Mage.

This trap activates as soon as a creature enters the sqaure it is in.

Target creature has all its attack dice reduced by 2 Dice (regarless of type)
for 2 turns. If the target is wearing armor the reduction is by only 1 attack Dice
and lasts only until the end of its next turn.

Card Quote: "Those nettles don't just hurt, they ITCH!"

______________________________________________________

Blinding-Flash Trap
Enchantment/Trap
Casting Cost:3/2
School: War 1 (Novice)
Range: 0-1
Target: 1 Target Square unooccupied by an enemy creature or Mage.

This trap activates as soon as a creature enters the square it is in.

Target creature must roll a d12
1-2 = Creature Blinded for 3 full turns
3-6 = Creature Blinded for 2 full turns
7-12 = Creature Blinded until the end of its next turn.

A blind creature cannot attack or defend unless attacked directly first.
If a blind creature moves, it moves in a random direction (roll d12)
1-3: it moves in the direction it intended to move.
4-6: it moves to the right of the direction it intended.
7-9: it moves to the left of the direction it intended.
10-12: it moves the opposite direction it inteneded.

Card Quote: "Blinded...By the light!"

Part 6: Consumed

“You’re lost!”

Higgson glanced at the Raven on his shoulder in irritation and kept his frustrations to himself.

“For a pet bird without a name, you seem to think highly of yourself and your opinions.”

The bird cawed in his ear and eyed him sideways, “Familiar! I am not a ‘Pet.’”

“Sure…you keep telling yourself that. Here! See that rotting log! She went that way.”

“How do you know Nespa went that way? Are you just making stuff up?”

Smirking and standing up from a kneeling position, he pointed at the log.

“Less than a week ago, that log was nearly intact. It has since rotten to the point of falling apart. That isn’t natural, hence Nespa.”

“It’s a LOG. How can you tell one from any of the other million or so out here? I’m a bird and even I can’t tell most trees apart unless I crapped on one in particular recently.”

“You either learn the signs in the Darkfenne, or you die in the Darkfenne. That’s the Fringer’s first rule. I recognize this particular log from before from its distinctive straightness, as most trees are warped and twisted by the dark energies here. Also, this tree was uprooted by a rutting Hydra and used as a back-scratching stick…see some of its molting scales are still caught in the bark near the tree’s remaining branches?”

“Ok, I guess I can buy that. You’re smarter than you look Paladin.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Whatever you say…Pink-skin.”

Realizing the bird was just trying to anger him for some strange reason, he looked back at the immaculately clean Blue Wizard, seemingly lost in thought. Higgson thought it odd how clean the Mage managed to stay until he realized the crafty old mage had a cleanliness spell on the robe.

“Sir? The path leads this way.”

“Hmm? Good. Good. Lead on Sir…Higgson was it?”

“No…yes Sir, but not…never mind.” Higgson grimaced and continued, “We should be getting close too, and I see signs of fresh slime. Her home can’t be too far then, even if it never stops moving.”
Norch spoke then, hesitation marked his voice as he looked around at his companions, “What? Her home moves? Slime? Will I need to fight her house?”

Higgson glanced at the Wizard, “You’ve never told him?”

The Wizard smirked; “I wanted it to be a surprise, as Norch is rarely surprised by much.” He looked back at the Minotaur then, “It’s more of a cottage really, not a house. Also, you shouldn’t have to fight it, unless you stand still in front of it and not move for an hour or so.”
____________________

The grey-black flesh of the giant snail seemed barely to hold the large cracked shell, itself the color of rancid green pus, on its back. Slimed leaked from the snail carcass itself and the cracks in the shell, sometimes gushing out in thin streamers as the creature heaved to move its bulk another few inches through the swamp. Its size was big enough to equal a Hydra, and the cottage itself perched like a tick on its back, pieces of the cottage sticking into the cracks in its shell as if to help pry those parts open more and force out more slime. Moving, always moving...never ending.

Nespa had always said she liked to keep on the move to avoid any enemies she might have and to confuse those seeking her out. If they could find her, they were worth dealing with; otherwise she didn’t want to be bothered with nosy people looking to sell their souls for power, or idiot village girls seeking charms and potions to help them woo their latest puppy-love.

The sight of the witch’s cottage had rendered the Minotaur speechless. Then he proceeded to throw up at the smell. He’d heard that the constitution of Minotaurs was legendary, but he’d heard they also had a heightened sense of smell the poor fellow.

Higgson nodded in understanding. The first time he had witnessed the monstrosity that was Nespa’s home he had not only thrown up his meager lunch, but had passed out as well. His fellow bandits made fun of him for a while after that, but when he learned that most of them had done similarly too, he had felt better managing what passed for the group’s initiation ceremony. He had earned his status of second-in-command of the Fringer group soon after that.

The moving cottage was merely a ramshackle assemblage of wood and mud, that looked like it was both standing still and falling apart at once. Magic had a hand in its making of course. Nothing natural built that place. Even though he was used to it by now, he still felt his gorge rise at the eternally rotting giant snail that was the home’s locomotion through the Darkfenne.

Higgson glanced back at the frowning Wizard with his black-feathered Familiar perched on his right shoulder. “Sir? Remember to stay away from the fresh slime. It will rot your clothing off your body in minutes, and if it touches your skin…well let’s just say you don’t want it touching your skin.

“I have dealt with Nespa before young man. You call to her however. She will more likely answer you.”

A quick look of bewilderment crossed Higgson’s face, but he turned and called out.

A truly evil cackle answered his call. Not a simple laugh or guffaw from an evil person or over an evil idea: A cackle that was not only imbued with evil, but dripped with it, as if it was made from evil thoughts itself. It made Higgson’s hair stand on end, and caused a feeling of crawling bugs up and down his spine. Ignoring those unwelcome feelings, he held his chin high, looking at the balcony-landing the witch usually appeared on.

She didn’t disappoint. Her tall slim form was wreathed in black cloth and silk. Head to toe, her appearance was nothing more than a woman in mourning, only her eyes showing through the veils and head-wrappings she had. Her voice, as smooth as silk, poured from her like ice water, “Welcome Higgson. What do you bring me today? Where is your leader…Oh my! Did your fine sensibilities force you to finally get rid of that bothersome toad with the ugly hat?”

“Nespa! I bring news and a visitor! The Arena Mage Sir Vaddic the Blue of Westlock…”
Nespa interrupted him with a hiss of outrage and he could swear her eyes glowed golden in the overcast semi-darkness of the Fenne. Her hands gripped the solid wooden balustrade that protected a casual person from falling from her balcony. He imagined the wood smoked slightly from her grip, and cracked under her strength. At least he thought he had imagined it.

“You bring this…this…”

She spoke a word then that he had never heard before or in such hatred. That one Word of Power cracked an ancient marble stone sticking out of muck of the Fenne nearby.

“Give me one good reason while I shouldn’t wipe the lot of you off of Et-Heria and feed whatever is left to a nearby nest of hungry Gorgons!” Flames appeared in her hands then. Higgson had been taught to recognize a Fireball incantation when he saw it and dived for cover behind another outcropping of ancient cut marble, another forgotten remnant of the ancient and befouled land that had become the Darkfenne.

“You forget yourself again Nespalanata Swee. You are not all-powerful yet. Old…very old, but you are not all-powerful Shadow-Taker. Your use of ‘Et-Heria’ instead of 'Etheria' hasn’t been used since the age before the Demons ruled.”

The blue mage stood defiantly, his staff held and at the ready. A small wisp of mist and sparks of electricity seemed to pop from the staff’s top, a gnarly knot of wood the size of the Norch’s fist.

“You have until I get bored with this conversation Blue Mage-filth, and if I don’t like what I hear…you and I get to see how powerful I really am.”

Smiling broadly Vadicc spoke with confidence as he set his staff back on the ground so he could lean on it again, “Agreed.”

The witch’s golden eyes narrowed. “No tricks! No spells! If you do…”

Vadicc held his free hand up and open, “I swear as a true Mage-Knight of Westlock, that I will treat with you fairly and honestly: no tricks. The Paladin will attest to it.”

Golden and blue eyes turned to Higgson then as he glanced over the large chunk of blue-veined marble he had hid behind.

He felt nauseous, as they looked on him with a growing horror in his gut. He wasn’t going to get between them and argue his status now, so he agreed.

“I att…attest and swear to uphold the agreement as spoken.”

Vadicc turned back up to Nespa.

“Well? The Paladin has spoken.”

“A Fallen Paladin, and I still don’t trust you.”

“As I don’t trust you Nespa, but I need you…for now. That should be enough. You would be able to say that the Blue Wizard owes you a favor, minor though it is. Fallen is a subjective term by the way. A Paladin of any sort is always a Paladin in the end.”

“Minor favor? What hog’s intestines is this? I warned you…”

“Please? Can we retire to your…parlor? This smell is causing my gout to hurt worse for some reason.”

The witch kicked a bundle of sticks and rope that tumbled over the side of the balcony to dangle just outside of the shell’s slime sprays. It turned out to be a series of twisted ropes and wooden branches that made a ladder of sorts. “The minotaur and Familiar stay outside. I wouldn’t be able to get the bird-shit smell out of my carpet or patch the holes in my roof fast enough to keep the rain out. Do keep up however, I would just hate myself for either of you to lose your master under my care.”

Norch looked nonplussed at the witch’s comments, but glanced at his Master quickly.

The mage just waved a wrinkled and age-spotted hand at the big nursemaid and said, “If she was going to blast me, she would have done so outside, not wait until I was inside, then blow up her own home in the process.” The minotaur looked only a little relieved at that. The raven just perched on the roof of the cottage near the entrance and shat on it, looking self-satisfied if a raven could look self-satisfied.

Turning, the mage ignored the ladder and just levitated himself to the level of the balcony, stepped onto the slowly swaying cottage, and called back casually, “Come along Sir Higgson! You are to witness this meeting are you not? To make sure I uphold my honorary status as a Knight of Westlock! Besides you really don’t want to miss this show! I guaranteed it!”

The mage’s insane laugh as he entered the cottage left Higgson wondering again what he had gotten himself into. He was a Fallen Paladin. Why would they trust his word? How could they trust his word? How was this…weirdness?...a path worth following? Why...Why…Why was he talking to himself like a madman?

Higgson calmed himself quickly, sighed heavily, and glanced at the worried Minotaur Bodyguard to offer what he could in emotional support. Moving to the dangling rope and stick ladder then, he began climbing quickly, praying to the Goddess most fervently the Familiar would not crap on him while he was climbing.

Who knows…miracles can happen.

Part 5: Obsessed

Higgson knew he was in trouble as soon as he opened his eyes.

The center tine of a silver-plated trident rested at the base of his throat, covered in already congealing blood. The owner was a very pissed-off looking pale-furred Minotaur with three arrows still sticking out of him, whose red eyes glared at him with obvious distrust. Why wasn't he already dead? Minotaurs were not known for their mercifulness...they all seemed rather cranky usually. Must be the weight of those big horns he thought without realizing it.

"You must be wondering why you are not dead yet. Correct?"

The bandit swallowed noisily, tried to nod, and barely moved when he felt the Trident poke him in the throat. He could feel blood start to drip from the shallow cut. That thing was sharp. The unknown speaker then moved into view on the edge of his vision. The blue-robed Wizard from the Portal! Higgson must have been magically enspelled...to sleep? Guilt and depression overcame him as his shame only worsened. He wasn't even a very good bandit, much less a Knight or Paladin anymore.

"E...e...essentially." Higgson managed to finally stutter.

"Good. As I suspect by your garb and general...cleanliness?...you are not the average bandit or Fringer. Correct?"

The prisoner felt he better keep up the answers to these strange questions, or his life would be over too quickly to notice.

"Yes." His voice was stronger, and steadier he noticed. Did he still have pride left? No that was a sin, and he could never feel pride at what he had become. Could he? That would be a new low.

"Dishonored Knight?...or...a Fallen Paladin too perhaps?"

"Paladin." His jaw tightened visibly. He refused to use the other descriptor. Damnation was what awaited him, but that does not mean he has to acknowledge his failings openly to ridicule by others.

The mage leaned heavily on his Magestaff and smiled casually, "Tell me a story."

Higgson understood immediately and considered carefully. What was the harm? They would most likely kill him soon anyway. He might as well tell the story to someone who actually seems interested in his side of things. It could even be cathartic.

Without realizing he was going to say it, he replied without thinking first, almost defiantly, "Back him off first."

The strange white-haired mage smirked, as the Raven familiar from earlier landed casually on the head of the mage's staff and spoke.

"The rest are all very dead sir. Well struck on that last spell."

Waving the compliment away, the confident Mage spoke to his bodyguard.

"Back up a notch, Norch." The mage snorted quietly to himself as if the alliterative comment amused him, and finished, "He's harmless to us now."

"As you wish master."

The strange pale-furred minotaur then backed up a few steps to slam the butt-spiked end of his trident into the soil, sat on a fallen block of marble, and began the process of cutting the barbed arrows out of his torso and shoulder. He continued to eye Higgson as he did so. The creepy thing to the bandit was the fact the the Minotaur didn't even flinch or cry out at the additional pain he was causing himself. Just the occasional soft grunt issued from his nostrils, as his knife dug into his chest and shoulder.

Higgson tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"Thank you, Great Mage...?"

The strange Raven spoke again, obvious respect in his odd voice, "He is Vadicc the Blue Mage: Seven-time Arena winner and competitor for life of the Mage Wars in Victoriana, the greatest city of Westlock. He has earned the titles: Master of the Ornilith Tower, he is the former teacher of the Great Mage Yarsboro the Bloody, and was Mage-Knighted by the High King himself."

Higgson was speechless.

The old mage seemed non-plussed and pursed his lips in annoyance at the Raven.

"You forgot the Award of Valor I received. It was the last Naval Battle of the Yorkish Islands, were I helped them mislead the Goblin's Bloodhunter Fleet onto the reef. Fleet Admiral Y'Delsa pinned it on me herself. Her cutlass was still bloody after she neutered her counter-part, the Goblin Admiral Gunkker the Scarred. Did it right there on the deck of his Goblin ship Marrow-Hunter...but I digress."

A look of strange fondness, as if the memory was one he personally cherished closely, crossed the Mage's features. It was quickly removed by a scowl and a look of impatience. "Time to introduce yourself..."

Higgson smirked inwardly and quoted Sortilige's favorite adage to himself: 'Patience was only for the blind, deaf, and dumb....basically anybody who isn't a Mage.'

Squaring his jaw he replied evenly, "My name is Higgson. Actually, my full name is Wellart Higgson the Fifth. I was born of the true Westlock Higgsons, not those Sortilage betrayers. The bandits knew me as 'Vlad Higgson,' as I didn't want them thinking I was worth more as a hostage for my family than as a new Fringer."

The mage seemed unimpressed, so Higgson continued.

"My father is...was...Higgson the Fourth of course, and a great Knight of Westlock. You may have heard of him? He fought in the Red-Slime Orc Clan Battles nearly 30 years ago? His mounted combat prowess was thought to be unmatched by anyone's lance."

Again only silence except for the Minotaur’s occasional soft grunt.

Slightly disappointed, he again continued, although with less enthusiasm. He felt drained before he even spoke.

"My real sins started when I aspired to be a Paladin and tried to overshadow my father's accomplishments. I went on to be accepted to the Temple for training to be a Paladin's Squire. It was the greatest day of my life. Another sin there: Pride. It was always my worst enemy and now my biggest reminder of how foolish I was."

His repressed memories flooded him suddenly, and the torrent seemed to push words out of his mouth as if he couldn't stop himself.

"It was the beginning of the end really. It was the second day I was there that I met the beautiful Marana Esterwine, an acolyte Priestess herself. She was so very strong in her faith and the unknowing owner of my heart. We secretly became close friends during our training, something the Faithful would never have allowed normally. When the day came for me to take my vows of Poverty and Celibacy, and granted a true Paladin of the Faith to be my teacher, my heart was nearly wrenched from my chest. We met, in secret, and fell to our passions. Once. Just once. Such a sin: To deflower a potential priestess before our vows were taken."

He felt horrible baring his soul to the strange Mage, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"Hating myself for falling into such a sinful act, I threw myself into my training and in record time finished my squire-ship in six months. We were helping the army track down Orc Raiders and bring them to justice those many months when my teacher quickly felt I had earned my spurs and Armor of the Faith finally through my heroic acts and deeds. In truth I was just responding to my guilt, but he had not known that."

A tear begin to crawl down his cheek: a single tear of pain.

"We had just finished the ceremony of my Paladin-hood, and it was then the Goddess quickly taught me her final lesson."

Higgson looked straight into the Blue Mage's unforgiving eyes under his bushy white brows and said with obvious pain in his voice.

"I got a letter from the High Priestess herself, detailing the final result of my sin. Marana had gotten pregnant, refused to take her vows, and killed herself in grief. It was my fault. My sins! She...she was just a young woman who loved too much. For that...I am Fallen."

Not being able to hold the Mage's icy gaze any longer, Higgson looked away.

"I walked away into the wilderness that night, never to look back. That was four years ago. Here I am now. Was that a good enough story? Did you enjoy my pain Sir Mage?" He tried to wipe away the tear, casually as if it didn't matter.

Silence, except for the various insect buzzing and animal calls of the nearby Fenne, descended.
 
"Do you know where the ancient Fenne-Witch Nespa, also known as the Shadow-Taker, currently resides?"

Higgson startled and looked back at the Mage upon hearing that name, knowing it too intimately. Frowning, he suddenly knew that he had just given up any chance of hiding that knowledge with his exposed body language.

"Yes...Unless she has moved again."

"But even if she has, you can find her current position. Right? I know she leaves signs for those she deals with on regular occasions so they can find her again."

Frowning worse, he replied acidly, "Yes."

A smirk passed the Mage's lips then.

"Good. You get to live after all."

The Blue Mage turned dramatically, his spindly arms in the air and his staff flailing wildly. This caused the Raven to take off suddenly and caw with annoyance. The mage began to walk off with his arms still flailing.

"Familiar! Norch! You should thank him. This man just saved us a week's walking blindly in the Darkfenne."

The raven flew off into the darkening night but the Minotaur stood, stared at him and stepped up, then reached out a fur-covered hand covered in bandit blood mixed with his own. Rumbling in his deep voice, "Thank you Sir."

Higgson couldn't believe it. He lived, for now. Maybe the Goddess hadn't forsaken him yet...

Taking the offered hand, he realized ironically that he might just be entering his final phase of divine punishment too.

"I guess asking for my sword back would be a bad idea huh?"

The bodyguard Norch shrugged, turned, retrieved his trident, and walked away after his master.

The Mage's voice carried back from some distance ahead in the ruins, "Good story by the way Sir Higgson! So how does the story end? Please let me know when you do! I'm dying to hear how it all turns out!" The mage chuckled loudly at his own dark humor.

Picking up his sword and longbow from a pile of the bandit's things, Higgson started walking after the strange group.

"What in the Goddess's name have I fallen into?"

A bare whisper in the wind seemed to come from the ruins themselves, sounding like his beloved lost Marana: 'The Path of Truth...lies ahead...'

Higgson's mouth flopped open like a hinge. He looked around quickly and found nothing. He closed his mouth, and furrowed his brow in sudden thought.

Quickly slamming his sword into his sheath, he turned and hurried after his captors. They had witches to find and places to be, and maybe...a path for him to follow.

Similar to the Raven Familiar...

Gork-lisp the Trap Gremlin (Legendary)

Creature (Fairy)
Casting Cost: 10
School: War 3
Range: 0-0

Gremlin: 6 Health, 1 Armor, 1 Attack Dice (Melee), Familiar, Pest, MANA 1, Regenerate 1, Tough -2, Burnproof, Poison Immunity

Special: Once per round as a Full Action a Trap Gremlin can cast a prepared Trap card in the square he occupies as long as no other cards occupy that square, friendly or otherwise. Trap Gremlin CANNOT activate traps with their MANA, only their controlling Mage can. Decoy Traps placed by Trap Gremlin give one extra Mana back to their owners when revealed. Any active trap placed by Trap Gremlin that does damage gains the Piercing +1 trait.

Card Quote: "My favorite traps are the ones that go BOOM! Hehehehe...Chunky-Salsa Effect!"

I would love to see a Wild Mage type.

Basically a mage that is insane
Specializes is Mana spells only.
Base Mana: 10
Health: ?
Spell Book: More than average? (to slightly off-set the lack of a specialty school.)

His basic abilities could be that he casts all spells at 2 Mana less (Minimum 1), but must draw his cards randomly each round. Unused cards are recycled back into his Spell "Deck" (Book) each round.

I'm glad you like the idea, but I know some of the creators, and they say spell balance is important and hard to maintain sometimes.  

I felt adding anything else to an already cool spell would unbalance it too much, even by adding more Mana cost to it or similar.   :blink:

.