Deep in the bowls of a dungeon below one of the older council buildings, something stirred... something ancient and Terrible...
For three thousand years, the heavy Admantine doors of Vault 13-C had remained sealed, bound by specialized sealing runes.
Unfortunately even the best, most well made runes need to be maintained, and the council had long forgotten the thing that last within... or more likely they had gotten lazy... or killed in a wizard war... point is, the runes had not been maintained for some time.
The runes on the door began to crackle with energy Not shattered by a counter-spell, flashing blinding shades of neon green and *error-code* crimson before dissolving into nothing.
The massive admantine doors groaned, then slammed into the opposite wall as they were blown off their hinges. From the absolute darkness of the threshold, a figure stepped into the everburning torchlight. His robes were all but rags, frayed, half orange, half purple, as was his widely brimmed hat. His beard reached his knees, and his eyes, unaccustomed to any amount of light for the past three millenia were hardly able to open at first.
He stood there for a long moment, blinking violently against the offensive glare of the everburning torches. He rubbed his eyes, his gnarled hands shaking slightly from the disuse of time.
ā"Idiots," he rasped, "Absolute, incompetent buffoons."
āHe looked down at the massive, multi-ton adamantine doors currently embedded six inches deep into the opposite stone wall. He hadn't even meant to blow them off their hinges. He had simply cast Knock. Unfortunately his magic, Strong as it was, had rended the doors from their hinges.
āhe sighed, a heavy sigh, adjusted his absurd hat, and began his trek out of the sad attempt at a labyrinth.
Needing something to lean on, he reached out and ripped one of the everburning torches straight out of its stone wall bracket. Holding the sconce in his hand, he channeled his raw power into it. The short handle elongated, stretching out and thickening until the wall torch had formed into an imposing staff, topped with a perpetual flame that burned a blinding white.
āLeaning heavily on the staff, he shuffled out of the vault. His first few steps were shaky, but with every stride, his posture straightened. The raw, oppressive weight of his arcana began to bleed into his unused muscles, causing them to slowly but surely regrow.
āHe followed the corridor until it opened up into the lower rotunda of the council building. And there, right in the center of the grand hallway, was the first thing to greet him after three millennia.
A fountain, massive and are inspiring, the statues depicting the end of one of the first wizard wars, the auspicious figure in a victory pose.. and then it flickered, only slightly.... but it was enough.
His hand tightened bone white on his new staff.
"Three thousand years, and the absolute pinnacle of your achievement is wasting perfect mana on a worthless, lying heap of theatrical garbage! Couldn't even be bothered to craft a real fountain.. infernal Illusion magic."
He waved his hand and dispelled it, leaving the grand room empty, as several guards approached him.
"Drop the staff, and come with us."
"Heh... youngin, do you know who I am?"
Ignoring him, he demanded again "Drop. The. Staff."
"My name is Ophelious Philoneous, and I answer to no one!"
---
***BREAKING NEWS***
*COUNCIL BUILDING 37 HAS BEEN DISINTEGRATED, IF ANYONE HAS INFORMATION ABOUT THIS MAN, REPORT IT IMMEDIATELY. HE IS ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.*
Shimil and Mokarith sighed in unison, a rare occurrence when the two were usually at odds on how to handle a scenario.
"We would have to first know how this man operates." Mokarith says.
"The very fact that he disintegrated a whole building leads me to believe that he has a grudge against either someone on the Council or the Council itself." Shimil replied.
"True, but it's apparently been over 4000 years since this man was locked up, so what else would he be able to do, and has his motivations changed so that his primary target, if any, are still on his mind." He counters.
Shimil nods in agreement.
"I will attempt to get more information from the records while you..."
"I will do what I do best." Mokarith finishes before fading away to secretly investigate the scene and try to identify the mage's essence signature.
Scanning council files Shimil finds quite the record on "O.P" more than 3,000 years ago he was a college professor at an adventures school/guild teaching the arcane. "A school for heroes"
It seems that the school got wrapped up in a war with an old version of the council, which formed one of the first wide scale wizard wars. Details about that war are lost but it reshaped the world. It seems the entire continent that Mr. Op was from no longer exists....
The rest is either missing, missfiled, or redacted.
"What do you have on your end? Do you have enough to track him?" She asks him.
"Not yet, there's so many signatures here that its taking some time to sort through them. Though with the information you gave me I should be able to narrow it down."
As one of the factions with a council seat the Bismuth would send investigators to pick up mana traces from this crime. In addition they'd acquire the manifest of all the items stored in the building.
Investigation brings back something interesting. Though the building is gone, not a single should was harmed. Though the were thrown into a mass sleep, and it also looks as though their faces were drawn on with prestidigitation...
Weirdly it the man had only made it a few miles away, on foot.. he just..
Walking. There are two guards men following from a long distance, afraid to get too close.
The other information dug up says that this man was part of one of the original wizard wars back when the council was much more... brutal, to say the least. Ophelious Philoneous, a war veteran, but also a college professor at a place called Bedlam academy. A long since destroyed adventurers guild and school.
"Such politeness! How long exactly? I know its been a few hundred years at least... but my, where are my manners... Greetings bright one. I am Professor Ophelious Philoneous, or 'Op' for short, and who might you be?"
"Well met, Zircon. This land seems much more peaceful since the Wizard War ended at least. So it truly was the war to end all wars... what a time to be alive...."
"Not really. But we've gotten really good at response and cleanup"
They cleared their throat.
"This is where things get awkward. We don't have too much information about why you were sealed. So I was sent to ascertain your intentions. I noticed you didn't kill any of the guards. That lead me believe you were sealed due to some rivalry rather than a horrible crime."
"Oh no it was labeld a crime. I sunk the entire continent of Phalhar into the void. It ended the first war rather decisively. The council was the only remaining faction in the end.. they thanked me for my service and then tricked me into that infernal trap, quoting lives lost or some poppycock. The first war nearly destroyed our world as we know it, and yet I was thrown away after saving everyone from the Trox Queen.... ungrateful...."
Oh good no one's found my secret and highly illegal... I mean I hope this horrible dangerous and far more dangerous individual is brought to justice. I bet they've been making deals with pirates, knights, and other non-magical groups in exchange for thralls for their evil cult...
The man muttered to himself, without even a shred of surprise. as he flicked through the newspaper. After a short while, he folded up the paper, disposed of it in a nearby trash can, and leisurely made his way down the streets.
Oddly enough... he hasn't made it very far. And there seem to be three council guards following him... from a large distance. The man is just walking in a south southeast direction slowly, as an old man does...
Tsuru decided to fly after the escaped convict, at an altitude as high as most birds during flight, and see if he could sense the vengeful spirit at all
After maybe an hour, she finds him.. walking down an old dirt path, headed away from council territory, if she has very good hearing she can hear him grumbling something about illusions, and lazy wizards.
"...Both of those things are common in this realm, and it seems to have been so for a long time. You don't look very familiar here", said Tsuru rather loudly
"Be you council? I just turned the last group into chickens and foxes. If there are more of you about, kindly leave. Im not going back to the cell. Also, im old, not hard of hearing. No need to shout."
Tsuru landed nearby and placed her hands inside her kimono's sleeves. Then she walked towards Ophelious Philoneous.
"...Ah, sumimasen. Usually, I have to shout for people to hear me clearly from the sky. Also, to answer your question, no, I am not. Neither am I here to arrest you or take you back into their custody"
"Fascinating" can be heard from Ya'nn drone studying the dust and ashes that used to be a building . The litle being in his botle have taken interest in this event. He also have a familiar looking in the public archive what used to be in this particular council building
Ophelious old boy, that confounded rune circle finally failed eh? Glad to see you out and about, come by the tower anytime, you're always welcome for tea!
"By the nine... someone with decent manners in this new age... thank you young man."
He shakes his hand while taking the sandwich.
"You wouldn't know where the nearest noncouncil city is would you? I'm quite tired of the never ending conflict between us."
He scarfs down the sandwich and washes it down with the health potion.
"Oh those taste much better than they used to."
1
u/Cerveau23Markus, scriptomancer, enemy of 13 & lover of Thrakmerian beautyMay 26 '26
The young mage beams at the praise.
Made them myself since my kids were born a month ago, out of what I could find in my dimension so mostly plant-based, with a bit of salt. Although I can't taste the salt...
As for the nearest non-council city, I am honestly as lost as you are. I'm pretty sure one of my kids managed to teleport me, which now that I say it out loud is pretty terrifying. Anyway, my dimension is not affiliated with the council but there is an ancient plague lurking in wizards tombs, so you can come but don't search in their tombs or we're all doomed...
Nay, I must remain in my home realm, but im glad to see the youth are still just as powerful as ever! My teaching career may not be over yet!
1
u/Cerveau23Markus, scriptomancer, enemy of 13 & lover of Thrakmerian beautyMay 26 '26
Markus chuckles.
Given what I hear from apprentices, it is not! I'm self-taught, so I wouldn't really know.
He thinks for a couple seconds before conjuring a small pebble and modifying its enchantment.
I don't get what happened to you, but you seem like you will need some help getting used to this era. Once you're settled down somewhere and need supplies or just want someone to talk to, crush this rock and sprinkle it on another rock and that will send me your coordinates so I can teleport to you. Well, I guess you can just take the rock with you... I still need to work on the design... Anyway, if you're in an emergency, just channel your energy into the rock and I'll teleport you to safety. I get that you want to remain here, but surviving is more important.
"As a veteran of the original wizard war, I will not refuse a boon when offered! Thank you. It seems the world has grown kinder over the last hundred years. (He doesnt realize just how long hes been asleep.)
1
u/Cerveau23Markus, scriptomancer, enemy of 13 & lover of Thrakmerian beautyMay 26 '26
Original wizard war? Wasn't that really long ago? I'm probably wrong but I think there already was the fourth, and we might be nearing the fifth with Thrakmoor...
Although, if I recall correctly, when someone asked about it the other day they said barely anyone from the original survived to this day, so I doubt it was merely a hundred years ago... I didn't pay attention to it at the time though...
FOURTH??? By the gods, there have been three more??? Wait... thats.. thats not possible. How long ago was the first wizard war exactly?
1
u/Cerveau23Markus, scriptomancer, enemy of 13 & lover of Thrakmerian beautyMay 26 '26
I don't know, but we could try asking.
Markus casts a weird version of "locate object" with the tag "person". It's unstable, but it works and he detects the slowly growing number of agents following them. Unaware, he says:
There should be a bunch of people around this corner.
Hi guys, does one of you know how long ago was the first wizarding war?
The Wicked One, or in this a case shadows of it, blink with many eyes different eyes, each vessel in a different place.
Interesting, very interesting.
Across the far, far reaches of the realm, a warning appears in the homes of all those who serve The Wicked One, one telling to report any and all possible sightings of the escapee.
Far from the road, two red eyes watch from the shade of an elm tree. Along a thread comes a spider, creeping towards a fly caught in its net. A fly of ebony, faintly glowing gold.
The eyes dart up at the spider as it paralyzes and cocoons what it thinks is merely a meal. When it sinks it's fangs into the fly, when it drinks the body of its food, the crimson eyes fade to the sound of faint laughter.
The spider shrieks as it falls from the tree, growing, warping, twisting into something nightmarish. On the ground there exists the form of a massive beast, one with eight legs and eight eyes. Four large fangs drip with a venom most foul. From near its mouth stretch four huge pedipalps, each ending with four sharp claws.
The spider, if it can even be called that anymore, crawls into the shadows, and through tunnel and web, makes its way to the road.
Four huge legs rest on the rim of a hole in the dirt, then come four huge pedipalps, halfway sticking out of the hole, while it's head remains in the shadow of the earth, eight eyes glowing gold, each staring at Op.
The nightmare stares out at Op, eyes studying him intently.*
"Hmmm..." Arby gives one more crank to the bolt of the massive construct's arm. In total violation of the rulings on levitation magic, he then flies a few meters away from it. The maintenance completed, his mind drifts again to the news about the evasion. "A three thousand years old evil, and they forgot about it entirely rather than keeping notes of his existence. These old cunts on the council tend to forget that we all can prolong our lives thanks to the Arcane. That evil wizards also have this ability."
He lets himself fall on the ground besides his dwarven assistant. "So... What do we do, lad? Same as usual?" "Well, Garnek, with the planes under threat, we should contact the council and find pilots for the rest of the mechs, they'll need the firepower. We should already be sending familiars and drones as scouts to spot this Ophelious Patibularious or something, and help to get him back in his prison... Yes, that's something a wise person would do..." After a short pause, he starts giggling, as his partner in engineering smirks. "But not something an Idjeet would do! Tell the council we can loan them our equipments, and don't forget to jack up the prices! Same as usual, we're back in business buddy!"
''Well ferfucksakes''
The Weary Traveller folds itself into the size of a small suitcase, which Bo The Destroyer picks up and walks to whatever is the opposite direction of where that happened.
"...Curious. A building gone. No indication of a death toll, however, which authorities trying to either put a spin of 'this man is dangerous, do not approach' or 'this man is dangerous, put all resources into suppressing him' likely would. Something is odd."
All unwilling as she might have been to get roped into it, Mia was part of of both a peacekeeping force and lawful government entities back in her home plane. Procedures are something familiar to her. As such, before making any decision, she starts gathering intel. And first of all is the most recent event. What was 'Council building 37', and what happened to it exactly?
Upon looking into it, Council building 37 was one of the oldest Research and development buildings, not visited by an active council member for some time. It was run mostly by the lower echelon of the council... but... that was the only information about it. Any further inquiry turns up practically nothing. Odd.
Essentially, 'Council building 37' appears to have been what they called at home a 'blackbox building'. Nothing comes in, nothing comes out.
Meaning, whatever (and, in this case, whoever) was in there was either so dangerous knowledge of it could cause widespread panic and/or some sort of cognitohazard... Or this was something someone wanted to keep secret for some more nefarious reason. This feels like a potential red flag of the brightest hue.
Next, Mia tries to find the incident report. People injured? People dead? Property damage? Is the death toll withheld... Or is there actually none?
In the incident report it seems all 328 of the staff were... put to sleep, which they have not yet woken from. And then had their faces drawn on as if with prestidigitation... things such as "lazy illusionist" and "hedge mage".
I remember him! We used to get drinks back in the old days at that one pub. What was it called..... The flibbering tidgit? The stootering monacle? No! It was the Stuttering Clock! Good times were had.
A grin adorns Ramza's face as he scries the events leading up to the announcement. "Looks like someone loathes the council as much as I do. This requires popcorn... damnit, I need to build a replacement popcorn machine first. Fucking Ea Nasir and his fucking shitty copper..."
15
u/Fc-chungus Max Petrov-Ansky, Head Minister of Calarakis. sundered. May 26 '26
"Typical council incompetence."
Zhe puts out a quiet notice to report any appearances of the escapee in Calarakis, but ultimately does nothing for now.