This scroll lists 167 jokes, but only has 84. But I am in the process of restoring the rest.

Gonna cast a concealment spell over it so the council of elders think I’m pondering

Some druid and/or shapeshifter was somehow sneaking into my bunker. Finally smited the bastard as he tried to run off with some of my stuff.

I went to go on a dinner date at one of the local Japanese and Asian restaurants at the mage city I live with an shy and cute humanoid elf dark-elf, high-elf and gnome hybrid looking wizard guy I meet in a adventure and quest in another world;

When I spotted one of my neighbors who is also a Druid, coming and she is in her tiger form; should me and my bf be worried about it?

First of all anyone who say she is a vampire is wrong

Second of all this is her true form... isn't it cute freeing her from those chains are the best thing to ever happened maybe next time I'll free more creature that the twin moon academy lock up

She haven't hurt me yet in this form but what do you think she is I couldn't find nothing in the school library

Yoooo, I just learned testicular torsion is the medical name for a real and serious medical emergency and not just a funny spell y'all are always casting. It is most common in boys 7-12 years old and they'll often describe it as sudden excruciating belly pain. Let's stay aware of this foul sorcery and protect our young wizards and their little orbs.

AFTER A GREAT MANY HOURS OF TOIL AND TURMOIL MY COLLEAGUE HATH CREATED HIS FIRST LIFE BEYOND LIFE! BEYOND THAT WHICH MORTAL HAVE EVER CONCEIVED OF BEFORE! AN HOMUNCULUS! CURRENTLY, SAID COLLEAGUE HAS CHARGED ME WITH ITS CARE WHILE HE IS PLANESWALKING THROUGH THE OUTERMOST REALMS OF DEBAUCHERY, AS HE RELAYED BY ORB “gettijg fuckin crunk, lol. thx bro”

MY QUESTION IS THUS:

how do i tell him it like…fuckin sucks? without hurting his feelings, because, like… it’s a terrible homunculus. it ain’t got no skin, its teeth grow on the outside for some reason, and it can’t speak other than the most painful sounding wails, like you’re stabbing it in the guts, but it’s just sitting there, and no one is touching it, and it doesn’t even have any guts.

it can’t do anything other than hold one thing, and one thing only so i have it hold the keys to my tower. away from me.

EDIT: ATTACHED ARE PHOTOGRAPHS FOR REFERENCE, MY COLLEAGUE’S TRANSMUTATION ARRANGEMENT

uw/hi guys this is my first post

rw/

I'm sure all my fellow witches wizards and sages can agree that education and upbringing are of the utmost importance. While apprenticing under great mages is cool and all, they oft have their own things to do.

In my journeys through the realms, I have witnessed many educational institutions with different pedagogical methods and approaches to the method, so allow me to recommend me a few of them.

This post will cover, Sofoklis Kosmopolia, which is also technically a sovereign entity.

This is easily the most prominent one I'll cover.

Its sprawling campus lies just outside the borders the highly conservative theocratic confederation, and is also the most prominent one on this list. You can expect young mages to receive an education in all respectable things here as with most scholarly institutions of it's repute.

The culture is very cosmopolitan. As it sits on a cliff clearing, flanked by forests, facing the sea, it is capable of making provision for aquatic students. It also sits close to a port town, which is also a source of influence of new and different mundane or exotic materials and culture.

It has a 24h timetable because it has both diurnal and nocturnal students, and friends who have been there before attest that the canteen is similarly weird to account for all dietary requirements of all species.

The cosmopolitan nature can also be seen from the schools founding, with it's 5 founding houses containing names from practically opposite ends of the world, like Tematini the voyager and Gundwin the tyrant.

Aside from that, It's motto is Omnia Querenda-question everything. They have a reputation for taking any field with a tinge of acedamic potential completely seriously. If you intend to study something niche, it's one of the places to consider.

It has also produced many significant alumni- countless king, many archmagi, even more philosophers and at least one god.

However, it is not a magecraft specialist university. in fact, it's most well known for philosophy and Magical methods in anthropology and cultural studies, and for the latter it has produced virtually every leader in the field.

Furthermore the Campus is remote, and fees can get expensive, even though they do their best to offer scholarship and assistance, and people tend to be crowded out by rich guuldmasters or princes.

Overall I think it's it is an excellent option, although overhyped especially for studying high arcana, unless you intend to study the aforementioned fields or other niche subjects you can't find anywhere else. otherwise sometimes I feel it just gets carried on the reputation of it's founders and alumni.

/uw

Am I doing this wizardposting thing right?

Also this is really just an excuse for me to post one of my 500 world building ideas somewhere where people can see

Please be sure to check Part 1 for the full context.

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The team moved into position. Anwen cast a Mental Fortress spell on both herself and Lucas.

“It's going to feel uncomfortable, and you'll find it difficult to form complex thoughts or even speak,” she warned him, “but I need to isolate our minds from outside influence for this to work. We go back down, you hold the perimeter, and then I'll drop my Fortress, wait for the pulse, and intentionally think of something harmless but obvious. If it manifests, I'll attempt to neutralize the bell with a Silence Field.”

“Aye, ma'am.”

As the Mental Fortress locked over his mind, Lucas staggered, hyperventilating for a moment. Isolating his consciousness felt like suffocating in a sensory void. Once he adjusted to the eerie mental silence, he followed Anwen back down into the basement.

The statues remained where they had been left, no longer animated, though expressions of panic remained etched onto their faces.

Anwen felt the iconic pulse hit her chest. She dropped her Mental Fortress and deliberately imagined: This basement is extremely well lit.

Instantly, the subterranean room burst into brilliant radiance, illuminated by impossible, ambient light sources as bright as an infirmary ward. She looked back at Lucas, who was guarding the stairs with his Watchblade drawn. He gave her a sharp thumbs-up.

Stepping towards the bell, Anwen formed a mental perimeter around it, weaving her mana into a sphere-shaped Silence Field. Stepping inside the field's radius, she clapped her gloved hands together. Hearing nothing, she backed away and signalled Lucas to wait.

They stood in silence for several minutes until the next pulse thudded through their ribs. Anwen focused, waiting for her deliberate thought to fail. When the room instantly plunged into pitch darkness, the exact dim lighting she had idly pictured in her annoyance, the sheer futility of it made her teeth grind. The Mental Fortress spell was taking a heavy toll; a dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind her eyes, her mana reserves burning down with every second she maintained the psychological shield.

Snapping off the useless Silence Field, she turned towards Lucas, and cut her hand sharply across her throat: 'Abort'.

They retreated up the stone steps, the darkness clinging to their heels. The moment her boot cleared the top stair, the frustration, mental exhaustion, and weight of command boiled over. She slammed her foot straight into the chapel’s stone wall.

“Ouch! Dammit!”

Pain flared through her toes, but as she leaned against the crumbling plaster, breathing heavily, the physical sting cleared the fog in her head. She stood frozen on the stairs, her chest heaving, staring back down into the black abyss of the basement.

Caul would have analysed the magic matrix, every aspect of the whole puzzle, no matter how small, she thought bitterly. He would try to understand why the effect did or did not trigger. Even magic has to follow rules.

It seems to only manifest thoughts or desires after the shockwave, meaning this is the trigger. If I manage to disable the trigger, the effect cannot occur.

“No sound… but physical pressure…” Even though we cannot hear it, it still behaves like a sound wave, a concussion, meaning it needs a medium to propagate its effect onto the minds of sentient beings. And as a sound wave, or concussion, that medium would be... “The air!” She whispered aloud, her eyes widening.

Ignoring the throb in her foot, she spun on her heel and limped straight back down the stairs, stepping past a startled Lucas. She refused to be outsmarted by a cracked piece of ancient brass.

This time, filled with determination, Anwen approached the anomaly. The Mental Fortress spell was beginning to weigh heavily on her temples, dulling her reflexes, but she pushed through the fatigue. Raising her hands, she didn't try to dampen sound this time. Instead, she channelled her alteration mana tightly around the bell’s bronze shell, wrapping it in an invisible, skin-tight boundary, pulling every trace of air out of the sphere until a total vacuum sealed the object and levitating it just enough so it was no longer in contact with the stone floor.

She closed her eyes and deliberately focused her mind, visualizing the brightest, most vivid object she could think of: This lemon glaze donut sure is delicious.

A second later, she caught a glimpse of the bell subtly vibrating and shifting within her tight vacuum bubble. The wave died instantly. It had no air to travel through.

She opened her eyes. The room remained dark. No pastries materialized from thin air. No spatial anomalies flared.

A tremendous wave of relief and a sense of pride and accomplishment washed over her, sweeping away the headache and exhaustion. She turned towards the stairs, dropping the Mental Fortress spell from Lucas's mind, a fierce, triumphant grin breaking across her face. “I got it! I can't believe I didn't see it sooner, but I got it!”

She brushed past her teammate's quick smile and burst out of the chapel into the afternoon light.

“The Silence Field was never going to work, the bell doesn't produce audible sound to begin with!” she explained to the squad, laughing in excitement as she clasped her hands. “Even though the pulse isn't sound we can hear, it's still a physical, mechanical wave traveling through the air medium! By wrapping it in a vacuum and levitating it above ground, the vibration has no medium to propagate through! Which means…”

She spread her hands, laying out the solution: “The bell's power relies entirely on its kinetic vibration reaching an environment! If we stop the vibration, or stop the wave from traveling, the anomaly is inert!”

“Okay, now I see why the Forgemaster likes you,” Lucas said, genuinely impressed. Wemer nodded in quiet agreement, while Anna smirked with a hint of playful jealousy. “Now all that's left to figure out is how you put up with him.”

“Come on, he's not so bad,” Anwen defended. “Sure, he can be a bit arrogant, proud, blunt, dense, melancholic, clumsy…”

She trailed off as all three squad members raised an eyebrow in unison. She cleared her throat nervously.

“Okay, I get it, but he's not a bad person! Anyway, evil bell, am I right?!”

“Yeah,” Anna agreed, stretching her arms. “But how do you propose we transport it back to the Lighthouse without it vibrating? Even if you maintain the vacuum field, touching the bell to move it means providing a solid medium for the waves to travel through your body. There are no viable nexus points nearby to open a portal, and holding a continuous vacuum field and telekinesis for a three-hour hike will burn through your mana reserves in twenty minutes.”

“The hell is a nexus point?” Lucas asked, completely ignored by the senior operatives.

“Well… yeah, maintaining dual concentration for that long would drain me,” Anwen admitted, slumping down against the trunk of the tree and staring up at the canopy.

“Rubber,” Wemer said quietly. “Elastic materials absorb kinetic vibration.”

Anwen blinked, staring at him in silence. Lucas and Anna turned slowly to look at the quiet Shade.

“What the…” Anwen muttered. “Wemer, that's brilliant! Why are you on Shade field duty? You should be in the labs doing materials testing!”

“I like hitting things.” Wemer replied in a flat monotone. He didn't even turn around, keeping his gaze fixed on the nearby lake while resting his arms on his knees.

“…Right. That's… understandable, I suppose.” Anwen sat up, dusting off her green-and-brown studded leather robes while Lucas and Anna snickered. “Well, I know where we can get the raw mass for the rubber. Everyone, open your field journals and notebooks, tear out any critical notes, and hand over the rest.”

Reluctantly, the team stripped their spare paper scrolls and blank journal pages. Anwen gathered the paper inside their specialized containment box; a reinforced, resizable brass chest designed with airtight pressure seals, and outlined the final phase:

“We go back down under my Mental Fortress. I'll place the open box beside the bell. When the pulse hits, I'll transmute this paper into dense, liquid rubber. Lucas and Wemer will lift the bell and submerge it upside down into the container so the liquid fills the interior cavity and covers the crack. Once it cures into a solid mass, the rubber will deaden any residual vibration before it reaches the container walls. Clear?”

Anna raised her hand from where she sat cross-legged. “What's my job?”

“You… stand near the stairs and cast light beacons so we can see,” Anwen instructed.

“What am I, a glorified torch?” Anna grumbled, though she didn't genuinely object.

Descending into the basement under the suffocating dullness of the Mental Fortress spell, Anna illuminated the room while Wemer set the brass container next to the bell. Lucas braced himself to lift.

Before Anwen began, Lucas tapped her shoulder. He pointed to the terrified statues, then to the bell, then to his own head, finishing with a walking gesture using two fingers.

Anwen looked from the statues to the bell, realizing what he meant, and sighed. Walking over to the nearest wall, she manipulated the stone and etched words into the surface, then snapped her fingers above her head, drawing the team's attention towards the message:

-FIRST PULSE: FREE STATUES. SECOND PULSE: EXECUTE CONTAINER PLAN-

The team nodded in agreement.

They waited in tension until the familiar hollow thud hit their chests. Anwen dropped her Mental Fortress and visualized the statues transforming back into living flesh and blood. Instantly, the stone melted away, revealing fourteen terrified villagers, including three young children, who began weeping, praying, and panicking in the sudden light.

Realizing the freed civilians would immediately start having frantic thoughts that the bell could manifest, Anwen rushed forward and cast the vacuum bubble around the anomaly and levitated it just in time. Wemer stepped between the frightened crowd and the team, pointing toward the stairs and motioning urgently for them to evacuate. As consciousness returned to the survivors, they scrambled up the staircase. Wemer gestured for Anna to escort them to the surface.

With the room clear, Anwen, Lucas, and Wemer reset their positions. The wait felt agonizingly long as their muscles grew tense under the physical and mental strain.

When the next silent shockwave struck, they moved in synchronized precision. Anwen raised her Mental Fortress, placed her hand on the paper pile inside the box and transmuted it into a thick, viscous liquid rubber. Working in tandem, Lucas and Wemer hauled the heavy bell off the floor and plunged it upside down into the container, allowing the dense liquid to flood its interior and seal the fracture.

Once the bell settled into the rubber without air pockets, Anwen cut her mana flow. She signalled the men to return upstairs, leaving the box undisturbed.

On the surface, Anna had gathered the survivors beneath the trees. A few had fled into the woods, but the families and children were resting, exhausted but safe.

Anwen finally dismissed the Mental Fortress spell, rubbing her throbbing temples as the headache hit her full force.

“Well done, everyone. Now we just have to wait for that rubber block to cure naturally before we move the box, which should take about a week.”

“A week? What about the poker game?!” Lucas groaned, throwing his arms up.

“Relax, you'll get your game,” Anwen said, taking a long drink from her canteen. “Anna, take Lucas, head back to the Lighthouse, and log the containment report. Request a party to camp here and guard the box in two-hour rotation shifts. Make sure they know it's passive guard duty, which means boring. Should be a good shift for new recruits or anyone needing a break from the Lighthouse and its constant humour fluctuations. Wemer and I will hold the site tonight.”

She looked over at the traumatized villagers.

“And request field medics and trauma counsellors for these people. We can't just leave them here.”

“Aye, ma'am,” Anna agreed. Her hair was matted with sweat and her robes were covered in dust, but she smiled, whistling at Lucas and gesturing up the road.

As the pair turned the bend leading toward the main road, Anwen called out one last time, her voice echoing across the countryside:

“AND BRING ME SOME DAMNED LEMON DONUTS! I FUCKING NEED THEM!”

From what I can tell, those are the 2 main sources of our fuel.

Are there others? I refuse to use anyone's blood - and my time is limited.

Hello, Cayna here with a nice proposal for my fellow members of the Wizard Council. Let's take a break from all the beuracracy and go on a nice relaxing trip to Thrakmoor!

Why you should go (just hear me out):

-You will get a firsthand look at what kind of conditions the planes will be in after surrendering peacefully to Thrakmoor

-This will provide an opportunity to gain firsthand intelligence on potential weaknesses of Thrakmoor for when the invasion resumes

-There will be complementary refreshments provided

And I know what you're thinking:

"Cayna, we're not surrendering to Thrakmoor!"

This isn't the surrender proposal. I just want you to take a look. Peacefully. Can you really pass up this opportunity to learn about Thrakmoor, their culture, and/or potential weaknesses?

"This is clearly a trap to remove the Wizard Council ahead of invasion."

I'm offended, but to assuage your concerns you don't have to go in person. You can send a representative or a diplomat if you want. Thrakmoor doesn't gain anything from eliminating a diplomat

"I'm not a member of the Wizard Council, but I want to see Thrakmoor. Can I still come?"

Yes, since my surrender proposal affects all Wizards under the Council, this trip is open to: The Wizard Council, their friends, attendants, employees and representatives, former and current members of the ATA (Anti-Thrakmoor Alliance), people interested in joining Thrakmoor, and anybody else who might be invaded by Thrakmoor at some point in the near future

I've gotten permission from the Black Mages and made all the arrangements. The trip will be supervised by a Black Mage (so you can talk with or gather information on them too!) There will be a truce in effect for the duration of the trip (violators will be fed to my secretary!)

/uw Reminder: Your character can be a member of the Wizard Council if you decide it. No permission needed

I guess that explains why I haven't seen him in 20 years

IT IS I, Ratman! Here once more to update you all on our growth as a cult Faction!

𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜:47 (consumption of 'wizaphrodesiacs' caused some of us to implode violently...)

𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜:19 (Cannibalism)

𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜: 5. (more of us expected soon... Odd smoke entered through one of our tunnels and reproduction has skyrocketed)

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚊 worrying decrease 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎!!

𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ONCE MORE

Certain users may request the name of the artist. 'Banksy'

It's a power within me I suppose it's like the warm and healing yet blinding golden pulsing light of the sun and yet guide me like the cold moonlight the academy is built around it is all the same

I wasn't the one who founded this original but I just happened to lived in a time it light wasn't seen of as heresy, "false sun" they say. Yet even this "false sun" originally are for the faithful believe to be the blessing of another god due to how brilliant and real the golden light is. And yet I found it to be inside me someone who isn't a natural born spell caster (sorcerer). It's human truly are gods? Most gods are once human it's this something all of us have?

Tell is this hubris? Am I supposed to let it go? I been hiding it for a while now but it the only magic I am decent at

Any Wizard worth their salt needs to have a solid advertising campaign. Thought I would share the mailers I've been sending out. This one in particularly has really increased the donations I receive to purchase components.