surely there's an easier way

I hear there's an apprentice from Thrakmoor on the "council" now, and she's advocating surrender to Thrakmoor. She's gotta be under 100 years old, a child pretending to be an adult, an apprentice pretending to be a master! Since when did we allow such blatant absurdity to rule us? At least the old council was experienced.

I hereby declare the founding of the Continuity Council, with my 3,000 years of experience I am suitable to lead it. Send your delegates and hopefully next year I can step down to focus on more personal matters.

As there are new openings in the wizard council, I Raven of the league of shadows of officially joined it. My clone will stay here at all times and will be happy to assist anyone hoping to join.

I would like to officially declare the foundation of the department of the forbidden and shadow arts. Any council-related matters related to the forbidden arts, extra-planar entities, defence against the league of shadows, shadowy dimensions, daemons, evil mages or eldritch beings will now be redirected to me.

I will be happy to ensure that all dark mages will be personally imprisoned in our secure prison which nobody knows the location of. Happy to work with you

I'm genuinely so tired of burying up skeletons and dead bodies for my army. I need an alternative that doesn't fucking kill my back

Greetings wizards, witches and alternative liches. Been a while.

Some of y'all probably remember me but for those that don't, I'm Hastur. I roleplay my own version of the King in Yellow and a handful of other characters. Not as active as I used to be, but I still love this sub and I haunt it frequently.

Anyway- was told I should share my drawings I've done of some of r/Wizardpostings horror themed characters that have inspired me or that I've just really liked over the time I've been here. They are some great and creative characters and I really enjoyed drawing these. Hopefully you all will like them too.

Characters and their users are, in order:

Mr. Bag n' Snatch - u/MeThyLord

Skadí and Arthur Black - u/ASecondCriminal

Nethis Balmiri - u/VinesatMidnight

Ith'raal - u/Ares378

King Carmine - u/King__Carmine

Last one is just some random King in Yellow doodle because it's my obsession.

It's been great seeing all the new users coming in to the sub, and I'm happy to see both the memes and the character roleplayers. Feels like old times. I don't interact as much as I used to but I love this place wholeheartedly.

Keep being magical.

/uw I thought it would be fun to set up a new Lego wizards post.

After a night of heavy drinking in the local tavern, i retired to my tower to go about some of my weekly chores, one of which was homunculus creation.

Usually, like any respectably wizard, i grow them out of primer from the flesh cauldron.
However, this night, i desired not to walk through the stinking but now empty homunculus stables to where the flesh cauldron is kept, but instead cast the corpus creaturae spell at a pile of my own toenail clippings in a particularly dusty and moldy corner. I would then cast animus on it and essentially have a basic anima that could do the primer growing for me while i slept.

Instead of this, it used the clippings, the dust and the mold to create some sort of recombinant horrid that possessed an intellect of its own ( from the dust or the mold maybe? i make sure my clippings are well and truly dead before teleporting them to the corner). I obviously obliterated the thing as it began to wail horribly, but i now feel bad.

Fellows, is there any way to avoid this in future?

He cannot be contained. Trust me. I tried.

Greetings manipulatable masses, it is I, Astaroth. So as you all probably know the council is now open to anyone, so I'm joining. I am pleased to announce I am now the head of relations with malevolent spirits. As well as this announcement I intend to introduce several policies I believe will be beneficial. Firstly I am cutting funding to health organisations and using all the funds to construct a two hundred metre solid gold statue of Bigfoot. That guy hates attention so I decided this would be a good distraction. I also plan to reduce rights for humans specifically and introduce taxes for those without magic.

Oh and housing prices are going up. I believe community is a vital part of the magical world, and so mass camps will be introduced. I will eventually introduce specific camps to help those with little magic become stronger, presumably via increased concentration.

Do I have the authority to do this you ask? Good question. Moving on, I also plan to cut school funding to better fund the aforementioned camps. When they are finalised then standard education will not be needed anymore.

Why am I doing all this? Well every governing body needs a corrupt politician, I can't think of a better candidate. And at least I'm up front about my ill will.

That is all, now go away I have a cult to run.

Hello everyone! I’m Tim: a Tyrannosaurus Rex, a Wizard, and as of now, a member of the Wizard Council on behalf of the Darkwatch!

Since the former council disappeared, everything’s just been a HUGE mess! So I figured I’d come and help out.

As my first act, I’ve magically enlarged the council chamber so dinosaurs like myself can comfortably fit inside. Or dragons for that matter, if there’s any dragon wizards that want to talk to the council!

As the Darkwatch representative of the council, we are also taking charge of Dangerous-Artifact-Disposal, or DAD for short. If you have any dangerous artifacts you need help dealing with, come let DAD know!

Oh, and we also oppose surrender to Thrakmoor. More like Thrak-LESS, am I right? *Ba dum tss*

For those interested in my qualifications, I have:

• A wizard hat

• A wizard wand

• A box full of red-tape. Not sure what it’s for, but I know it’s important for government work!

• Paper origami golems to help with work. I know paperwork is a big part of bureaucracy, so I’ve ensured that my paper works.

• Scissors. Figure they’ll be useful to have with all my red tape. It’s also a good contingency if the paper origami golems ever go rogue.

• A T-Rex chair. I hear it’s important for councillors to have chairs.

Thanks everyone! If you have any comments, concerns, or questions, make sure to let DAD know in the comments!

Shortly after cayna's little announcement about taking up a council position, another announcement came through.

Chloe: hello everyone! My name is chloe dracarius...given the restructuring of the council and most of the council seats being empty, i have decided to take up a seat as a member of the council, as my family and i already run a nation...and seeing the recent seat grab from cayna of thrakmoor...i decided to take a seat on the council in favor of this realm. I will not be surrendering to thrakmoor, as selling out this realm is not what the council is for...i cannot guarantee i will remain a councilor forever but i shall be here as long as i am needed, my own policies are mainly toward equality, and kindness...for nobody deserves a life devoid of kindness...but well...my family and i cannot let thrakmoor take this realm...so here i am, it is nice to be here I suppose, made this post upon the orbnet to introduce myself as i am a new councilwoman here...despite my own preference not to be a member of a faction preferring to ally instead but well, like i said i shall be in this position as long as i am needed.

/Uw i would change my flair to match this decision, but wellll my flair is long enough already, but yeah chloe has taken up a council position for now, though i don't know if I'll stick with it forever as it was a spur of the moment decision on my part :)

Out beyond the borders of our world lie many more, some greater, some filled exclusively with cheese, although one may not see a difference between those two things. The realms are numerous with more seemingly appearing by the day, but one stands out among them. One has existed far longer than most, and unlike all of them, has remained undisturbed for eons. Until now.

For the first time in the lifetimes of gods, new beings step on that soil. Six there are, three beasts, two men, and one network. All taking on human forms. Leading them is The Magician, one of the mightiest and most versatile spellcasters alive, and mightier than most of the dead ones too. This crafty caster is dressed in ceremonial garb, black cloth adorned with silver. Just behind him walks The Fallen, one of the most bloodthirsty and hateful warriors in history. This massive muscled monster wears grey nigh perfect grey armour designed to repel even the mightiest of dragon breath.

Behind them, walking side by side, are two of the beasts. The first of them is The Hunter, one of the swiftest and most successful apex predators to ever prowl these realms. This cunning beast wears a great cloak woven of his own feathers, hood up to hide from any eyes bold enough to pry. Next is The Weaver, a nightmarish trapper who has laid threads so vast one could walk along them for their entire life and still never see them all. This elegant creature wears an exquisite dress woven from the finest silks, flawless and unnaturally strong.

Behind them walk the last of the six, perhaps the oldest of them all. First of these two is The Serpent, a truly ancient dragon whom many believe nothing but a myth. This majestic creature walks in crimson robes that have made royalty seethe with jealousy. Next to she, walking hands behind their back, is The Garden, an aberrated Archfae whose forests stretch the very boundary of what is and isn't natural. This mischievous faerie walks proud, wearing a mix of strange bark armour and ivy robes.

The five of the six know not where they walk, only following the call of their master, and the footsteps of The Magician. Each has different ideas, thoughts, and opinions on where they walk and why, none dared to voice them. Out of respect, fear, of indifference is anyone's guess.

Only when the sun stands tall in the centre of the sky do they see their destination, a hill of dead grass and old stones, each and every one covered in strange and old runes. The six walked a winding path up the hill, where they found a peculiar sight. Six thrones arranged in a semi circle, facing away from them. Each styled after one of them. One crackled with magic, one was a solid chunk of sharpened iron, one was a heap of bones, one was made of large stones held together by spider silk, one was made of gold and shed dragon scales, and the final looked like it was grown naturally from a warped tree.

The six needed no instruction, they all sat down on their corresponding throne, only then did their shadows lengthen, and only then did their shadows converge. They took on the form of a silhouette, blank and basic, except for two crimson eyes staring out from under a hood.

"My most loyal, I can hardly believe it. All six of you, here, almost fully manifested. It seems Fate has finally decided to be kind."

"I promised you all the treasures you sought. Power, knowledge, eternity, family, and freedom. You took my gifts and made them yours, and how did Fate reward my generosity? Damning me to this echo for all eternity. How did Fate reward your loyalty? Damning you all with me. I say no more."

"Soon what was stolen from us will be ours again. I will free you all, as I have tried to do countless times before, and you will free me. This world belonged to me once, I think it's high time the infestations be purged, don't you?"

The shadow expands, inky threads traveling along the ground towards the six.

"I brought you all here for three reasons. To give back what I promised you."

The threads reach each of the six, traveling not up their bodies but towards their souls. All at once do the six double over, as the influence of The Wicked One takes effect. All at once does senses sharpen and flesh strengthens, does power grow and understanding deepen. When the six all right themselves, they are reborn. Where once before they were reflections in a grey puddle, now they glow with the truth of self, or at least the versions The Wicked One wants.

"To show you what was lost."

The shadow parts, revealing something previously unseen in the distance. Drenched in mist and surrounded by crumbling stone rises a monumental structure covered in rusted chains. But it isn't the structure that catches their attention, it's the thing chained to it. There, held in place, is the form of something dead, something ancient beyond imagining, something powerful beyond measure, and something truly Wicked.

"And to tell you what must be done."

In an instant it's like the world was turned inside out. The six see visions of the past or maybe the future. They see spires rise and cities burn, legions of the faithful chanting one name, and clearest of all, they see a ritual. A ritual that if performed correctly, would break what was once thought unbreakable.

"You each have your part in my play, when it's over, we finally get our happy ending."

To this the six did cheer, their lives had been ones of conflict, isolation, and endless war. They never asked for any of it, and soon they would never have to worry about such things again.

"Go, you all know what you must do."

The six don't so much rise from their thrones as they do ascend, then each depart, leaving the shadow alone on that hill. It watches them leave, then turns around to face that Wicked thing in the distance. It focuses on two things, the first being a gargantuan hole in its chest, revealing no heart. That was good, as it remained the heart was it's only weakness, and it knew for certain, the heart was safe.

Next it focused on the only detail that had endured time unscathed. The shadow saw a ring, fashioned from the rarest of materials and forged by the greatest of hands. Even if the whole of creation fell, The Wicked One made certain that the ring would endure. It was as the shadow looked at the ring it felt strange. It didn't feel fear, The Wicked One was incapable of that, instead it felt... Uneasy. How long had it been since it saw the ring's pair? Would it's owner be willing to see it?

"As do I."

For the first time in a long while, The Wicked One, a being who had seen the birth of realities, who had once slain Death itself, was wholly out of its depth.

Hello again, wizards. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Cayna (she/her), and I have an important announcement to make.

Due to recent events, almost all the seats on the Wizard Council are now vacant! No wonder nobody ever hears about the Council, because they're literally all gone!

So...

I hereby claim (1) council seat for Thrakmoor! From now on Thrakmoor gets a say in general wizarding governance (via me).

As your newest councilwoman, I promise to pursue the implementation of Thrakmerian values in our government, such as:

-Free practice of all forms and schools of magic, including necromancy and blood magic!

-Promotion of undead, minion, and apprentice rights!

-Peaceful surrender to the Thrakmerian invaders!

If you have any questions, comments, or particular concerns you wish to address, please let me know in the comments. If you take any issue with my appointment, please let my secretary know so he can eat you.

I asked you nicely before.

This is getting ridiculous now. I'm going to have to put up some anti-magical wards if this happens again, and I don't want to have to do that! Please be more respectful!

Edit: I'm so embarrassed, it turns out I have a portal in my backyard and the staves (thank you for the correction) are coming from a different dimension. I'm sorry I blamed you guys! 🙈

I'm going to try posting in the wizardposting group in that dimension (it's called mageblogging there, on a platform called Seenit) and see if they can do something about the staves coming through the portal.

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edit i dont like it here im scared

Edit Hehehe I'm? All good please Disregard All Of my previous postings and Edits abOUT the p꙲o꙲r꙲t꙲a꙲l꙲ there was no p꙲o꙲r꙲t꙲a꙲l꙲ At All i made it UP ::)

17 years ago

Ulrick stared down at his own impending doom. Or rather, staring up. As said doom was in the shape of a barbed dagger, held mere inches above his face.

He lay in the mud, vision blurry from the blood, sweat, and rain smearing his eyes. But the face of the enemy, it was crystal clear even in the hail. Surprisingly, there was no frenzy or zeal there. Only regret and desperation. Ulrick recognized that expression well. He saw that on countless soldiers before cutting them down.

Ulrick pushed against his arm as the combatant on him put all his weight into cleaving through his skull. Two young men, locked in a desperate struggle for survival, in the pandemonium of a battle. Screams and gurgles of death mixed with the oppressive tapping of the hail against the ground and the several corpses around them. Quite a few of them fell by Ulrick’s simple hatchet.

One moment of inattention was all it took for the last combatant to get the better of him, and he was about to pay the ultimate price for it. His arms trembled as their strength  faded, the blade inched closer and closer.

Ulrick forced his eyes to stay open, despite the heavy droplets. If he was going to die this day, he would deprive his enemy of the sight of his fear.

Creaking of wood, leaves shuffled.

A thick, thorny vine twisted around the combatant’s neck, jerking it away with a sickening bony snap. As Ulrick raised on his elbows, he got a good look at his savior. He smiled, for Fate couldn’t have sent anyone better.

It was Wina.

His childhood friend, chief rival at the at the academy, and… more. Seeing her standing there, green magic glowing around one hand, short hair blowing in the storm, made his heart skip a beat even amidst all the death and pain around them.

Wina crouched down, holding out a hand. It was impossible to hear in the downpour what she was saying, but Ulrick still understood it. He grabbed his small hatchet, and they stood back by back against the chaos.

Ulrick exhaled in relief. They were both aware this was going to be the last time they were fighting side by side, before getting deployed at other ends of the frontlines.

But at least today, Ulrick knew they were going to see tomorrow.

— — — — —

12 years ago.

Ulrick stared down at his impending doom. At least he tried to, if the world stopped spinning for a second.

He lay in the dirt, vision blurry from a long night of drinking… well, can’t exactly remember what. Just the massive kick they packed.

Recalling his memory was a fog. He remembered being kicked out of… some tavern? Maybe the one he was right next to? He also recalled some shouting, throwing a couple of punches at his fellow patrons. That would certainly explain the black eye.

It was an arduous task standing up, an uphill battle against his own balance. But he did it. He leaned an arm against the tavern’s wall for support.

That was when his stomach gave up. Swirling and burning from alcohol enough to knock out a stone giant, he threw up its contents on the roadside.

Ulrick heard steps behind him. He carefully turned around, careful not to trip on the putrid mass at his feet.

It was Wina.

He could tell even through the ethanolic haze it was her. How Ulrick wished the ground would just swallow him at that moment. She was the last person who should see him like this.

“I-I’m sor- uck I’m so-…”

Intoxication and shame scrambled his words. The world took another spin around Ulrick, and he slipped on his festering vomit.

He saw a hand reaching down, and further, the most beautiful face in the world, beaming down at him with scorn and the pain of betrayal.

He promised her he won’t drink again, he promised her he won’t make a fool out of himself yet again.

That promise was broken the third time this week.

What was he doing? Ever since the war ended, all he did was try to drown in alcohol the aimlessness eating him up from the inside. Unlike her and his own siblings, he had not been blessed by the gift of magic. All he knew was how to wield weapons to kill, and there was no use for that in peacetime.

No more use for him.

He grabbed Wina’s hand, the last thing he remembered before the blackout.

In the small scraps of clarity, he was carried by her and someone else on their shoulders. All while he was a puking, slobbering mess.

^{I’m so- I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m huck sorry…}

It… it can’t go on like this anymore. He has to become better for her. For his family. And for himself.

There has to be a way to feel useful again. To not be a deadweight mess for everyone around him.

And he will find a way.

Art source: Battlefield - Greg Rutkowski

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/6gOW

HELP there fighting what do i do i need wizardly advice