VILARCANE
[14] Master
I know what it cost you to write those few words m8. Now go change those bindings...again :)
A tale of souls and swords, eternally retold...
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VILARCANE
[14] Master
THE WAND OF THE GRAY
A vanilla fantasy short story by and with Vilarcane
The cell was as small as can get, reeking of all kind of miasmas and human or non human residues, and terribly moist and cold. If only I had a good constitution, but my figure was as thin as that of a stick insect and my muscles were sore and cramped from the rugged and vermin infested floor mat I had to lay on last night.
Sunrays were starting to bathe the room with an eerie gloom, reminding me I was supposed to be released at first light.
After all, I only set that discourteous hobgoblin’s goatee on fire in a moment of distraction.
The illustrious Ixagg, my mentor, once said, “Wizards create magic the way a poet creates poems, with inborn talent honed by practice.”
I guess I needed practice…
My bad, as a novice illusionist without a coin, I had to try my luck in front of the most despicable and disrespectful audience ever, a bunch of scoundrels, cutthroats and loose women.
Humans are usually sympathetic, but hobs, imps, orcs and whatnot are pretty hard to impress, and it seemed like an army of those had set foot in this place of debauchery called the Prancing Griffin.
Reliving these painful memories of being hog-tied to a cart and brought to justice in the town hall by a mayor that was no other than the innkeeper himself, I regained composure and focused on what had brought me to this god-forsaken hornet’s nest in the first place.
The Wand of Ixagg the Gray.
An artifact of great power, made by a conjurer capable of creating and destroying worlds with the sheer strength of his animus, an item of unsurpassed beauty and sheer power.
“Ok, Vilarcane, chill, don’t get ahead of yourself” I mumbled.
Suffice to say I had never laid eyes on the thing, and the probability of me even getting close to it was probably one in a…wait, what if luck was on my side for once, I mean, hadn’t I already weaseled my way into a castle using simple noise illusions to “retrieve” the scroll revealing its location.
Sure, it wasn’t that hard since every adventurer who’d come of age knew the secret of the desecrated shrine hidden in a cave at the foot of a craggy cliff, right here, where the cross shows, in the woods up north. “Piece of pie and pint of mead!” I said to myself, not utterly convinced.
Well, technically, none of the aforementioned adventurers had made it back, but as my mother used to say: “Thou shant worry, me son, destiny awaits thee!” I wasn’t going to stop at technicalities.
Clearing my mind, I started making mental notes of the different artifacts and ingredients I needed to conjure the most basic defensive spells (Oh and I would need a torch too, since last night had shown I never could get a simple harmless flare spell right without setting everything flammable ablaze!) .
So, just as my mind wandered through the practical details of my forthcoming adventure, the innkeeper stormed into the cell and startled me with a grunt:
“Get lost, and never show your face around these parts again, you pathetic excuse of a mage”
I hung my head in disgust and headed towards the exit, gathering my meager belongings, powders, fluids, vials and roots, all helping to make a fool of myself next time I’d try to cast a spell I thought I’d learned proper.
Sometimes, reading spell books for too long, I’d get completely confused between abjuration, transmutation, conjuration, divination, and all the other aspects of my craft, be it verbal, somatic or material in nature.
But that didn’t mean that with a bit of luck, with a nudge from destiny, I wouldn’t do wonders like Grandmaster Ixagg.
After a couple of hours, I had gathered strength, food and supplies to embark on my perilous journey to the Shrine…alone!
Well, there is a reason why adventurers travel in pack, each being a specific asset to the group: warriors grunt, chop and slash, clerics heal and sometimes squeal, mages amaze and set things ablaze, and bards cheer everyone up with a good ole ballad.
Well, believe it or not, I had never met anyone worth looting with, hum, or was it the contrary?
So here I was, plowing my way through the thick of the wood, only protected by my large brown hat, a lucky charm hanging from my neck, bat skelies dangling from my pouch like undead puppets, and with my half naked feet already sore with blisters…that and all kinds of nasties creeping up my robes…
Twilight fell upon the woods as I closed in on the cave’s entrance.
I giggled in anticipation, set camp and started a fire with twigs and brimstones, and found it safer to do it “ranger style”, this time around.
I tried to fall asleep, but echoes of the night kept me awake, as did the exciting prospect of laying hands on a powerful magic artifact that would be the conduct of greater knowledge.
Soon people would bow before me, as I would revel in arcana like Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy, and Nethermancy.
I would watch lesser and greater daemons alike grovel before me, and gain access to unlimited treasures…and pleasures, both earthly and otherworldly!
This is where it happened, a voice suddenly echoed through my head, soothing like a lullaby, a sweet and whimsical tune, seemingly from female origin…
Did I drink to much mead that night, did I smoke too much of that weed that street kid offered me the other day…no, the voice was clear and soft, and the words were nothing but an invitation to a place I was soon to visit :
“My dear friend, oh powerful wizard Vilarcane, come to me in my humble stone estate, I have a collection of rare and beautiful artifacts I wish you to behold, come and be part of my life as well, come, hurry…I need you, I want you…”
The voice then vanished and I regained full consciousness…I felt a surge of feral attraction; I wanted to see and feel who had called upon me.
For the first time in my young life I felt desired, and desire, and for one moment I forgot about the wand, about power, about my own and selfish drive.
A blink of an eye later, I had a torch in my hand, my worn leather bag around the shoulder and I proceeded into the cave.
The silence was almost debilitating, and the interior of the cave was pitch black except for the flicker of the torch against the wet stone.
After what seems aeons of walking aimlessly through the cave, the tunnel widened and opened into a vast circular room. I could see remnants of sustaining arches and pillars and richly detailed stone statues scattered throughout the room.
Waving my torch up and down while progressing through what seemed to be a crumbling shrine of greyish granite, I froze in shock and awe as I laid eyes upon a dome of black obsidian, half buried into a pool of bluish ooze.
The shiny and perfectly regular marble of obsidian was already a sight to behold, but I gasped at the sheer sight of the object standing on top of it, thick strings of obsidian wrapped around it in the shape of a braid.
It was the legendary Wand of Ixagg the Gray, no doubt about it, I had learned the lore from my runic study of Unearthed Arcana…a tiny wand made of pure and immaculate crystal, like it had been carved directly into a block of ice.
I couldn’t believe it, it was right here in front of me, and I only needed to figure out how to retrieve it from its natural jewel case…
I know this wasn’t the brightest thing to do, but my torch was already weakening and I wanted to look further and find my female host, so here I went and grabbed the wand and tried to pull the obsidian braids away and loosen their grasp on the lower, thinner part of the magical item…
At that very moment I noticed something was off, I mean, is obsidian supposed to be moist and gluey…
…and soft?!
And above all, is obsidian supposed to move of its own free will!!!
I lunged backwards and landed on my bottom as I watched the dome emerge from the pool of ooze , revealing a giant sphere which started hovering above me.
Then I thought my heart would stop, as I beheld the most incredible creature I had ever laid eyes upon…
Floating before me, a bulbous body slowly unveiling a central, unblinking eye, and a large maw filled with dagger like teeth.
Then I suddenly realized what the braids holding the wand were made of, at the end I could see smaller eyes popping out, attached to wriggling stalks of the same black and shiny jelly, sprout from the top of the orb like body towering down at me. The wand fell into the ooze, floating above its surface.
As I tried to regain my bearings and grabbed the now fading torch and turned back to run for my life, that is when I heard the voice and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Come my dear, come and look at me, I am the beholder, the eye tyrant, the sphere of many eyes, the overseer and thou shall seek your future in my oculus, and I’ll even make some room for you in my private gallery”
At this very moment, I noticed why the statue I was leaning on for balance looked so pristine and perfect.
It did look like a dwarf all right, one of noble birth, with full and expensive gear, waving a master crafted double edged axe and a sturdy round shield, strapped in padded armor with all nook and crannies from head to toes…
…but the expression of the statue’s face was nothing a human or even elven artist could ever have reproduced with such subtlety, a mixture of anger and bewilderment, of one facing slow yet instant death, without the slightest hope of escape !
Then I noticed the big sweat drop on his cheek…one of stone, made of thousands shades of grey
Flesh to Stone, a spell only master wizards could dream of casting, was like a cheap card trick to this super intelligent being of the Underdark, and I was about to be the new target practice and latest addition to its art collection.
At least I would become significant to someone, I thought in an accent of dark humor and desperation.
Then I prayed to the only god I knew, crumpled and rolled towards the pool behind me in a desperate attempt to reach for the wand.
Fully aware of my intent, the Beholder started to shimmer in an eerie red and orange glow.
It knew the time for charming and wanton was over, and it was going to go full aggro on me.
I could feel the heat building above my head as the beholders’ tentacles infused with pure power, ready to lay down powerful magical rays that would either obliterate me, or at least turn me into a cloud of ashes.
In what seemed like an eternity in slow motion, I managed to pull the wand from the sticky ooze and, not knowing what to do, placed it right in front of me as if I held a Christian cross in front of a rabid vampire.
I knew it wouldn’t work, but at least I had neither been frozen nor disintegrated by merely touching the wand, which was kind of a relief.
The Beholder was now entirely ablaze, looking like a sphere of molten lava with blood-soaked eyes, and then the rays struck me with full prejudice.
I decided to close my eyes and let my life mentally scroll before me…kind of ironic, isn’t it?
A moment later…I was still feeling my heart pounding, and the voice had turned from bewitching to irritated, and then came the burn...my hands felt like I was clenching at charred coal, but no, it was merely the wand…the rays were miraculously converging right through the middle of it, like it attracted them, and absorbed their energy till it eventually dried out…Because it was struggling to contain it, the wand had turned from blue to crimson and generated a radiant heat wave.
The beholder was now lowering its bobbing spherical mass to my eye level to strike the final blow.
One could tell from the changing shade of its pupil it was going to be Flesh to Stone…
I couldn’t hold it any longer, my brain commanded me to throw the scorching wand away, and I tossed it in front of me.
I guess my god had listened to my prayer, because the incandescent wand landed at the edge of the black pool, and I heard a whoosh, then I saw a huge burst of flames as high as a surrounding wall, engulfing the beholder in its wake, which voice almost instantly turned into shrieks and soon after, terrifying gurgles of pain and agony.
Super intelligent being, my …!
Anyways, that unknown black substance seemed like a pretty decent energy source, I’d have to write this down in my memoirs for future generations of engineers.
While I gazed at the charred remains of the beholder, now deflating in a hissing sound and putrid stench, with its countless sprouts spread on the floor like a bunch of faded flowers, I noticed the wand was already cooling down after the fire had died out completely.
I bent over and grabbed the relic reverently, that thing had saved my life after all.
Looking at the statues around me, at the back of the dead sack of jelly that once was a terrifying creature, I thought I recognized that of Ixagg the Gray himself, which in turn explained why the magic item had remained here after the beast had lured the poor Wizard to its own demise.
From afar, he looked like a benevolent balding old man with a pony tail and a goatee, but I knew he had once possessed the true and immense power of genesis.
I proceeded to pay my respects…that is when I slipped on one of those goddamned sprout eyes on the floor…I felt my skull crack open as it connected with the base of a crumbled pillar.
My vision blurred, I could feel blood spilling from my nose, and I thought to myself…
Vil, October 2th 2013 (Spoiler is the end of the text and the epilogue, so do yourself a favour and don't click until you have read the rest of the novel)
A vanilla fantasy short story by and with Vilarcane
The cell was as small as can get, reeking of all kind of miasmas and human or non human residues, and terribly moist and cold. If only I had a good constitution, but my figure was as thin as that of a stick insect and my muscles were sore and cramped from the rugged and vermin infested floor mat I had to lay on last night.
Sunrays were starting to bathe the room with an eerie gloom, reminding me I was supposed to be released at first light.
After all, I only set that discourteous hobgoblin’s goatee on fire in a moment of distraction.
The illustrious Ixagg, my mentor, once said, “Wizards create magic the way a poet creates poems, with inborn talent honed by practice.”
I guess I needed practice…
My bad, as a novice illusionist without a coin, I had to try my luck in front of the most despicable and disrespectful audience ever, a bunch of scoundrels, cutthroats and loose women.
Humans are usually sympathetic, but hobs, imps, orcs and whatnot are pretty hard to impress, and it seemed like an army of those had set foot in this place of debauchery called the Prancing Griffin.
Reliving these painful memories of being hog-tied to a cart and brought to justice in the town hall by a mayor that was no other than the innkeeper himself, I regained composure and focused on what had brought me to this god-forsaken hornet’s nest in the first place.
The Wand of Ixagg the Gray.
An artifact of great power, made by a conjurer capable of creating and destroying worlds with the sheer strength of his animus, an item of unsurpassed beauty and sheer power.
“Ok, Vilarcane, chill, don’t get ahead of yourself” I mumbled.
Suffice to say I had never laid eyes on the thing, and the probability of me even getting close to it was probably one in a…wait, what if luck was on my side for once, I mean, hadn’t I already weaseled my way into a castle using simple noise illusions to “retrieve” the scroll revealing its location.
Sure, it wasn’t that hard since every adventurer who’d come of age knew the secret of the desecrated shrine hidden in a cave at the foot of a craggy cliff, right here, where the cross shows, in the woods up north. “Piece of pie and pint of mead!” I said to myself, not utterly convinced.
Well, technically, none of the aforementioned adventurers had made it back, but as my mother used to say: “Thou shant worry, me son, destiny awaits thee!” I wasn’t going to stop at technicalities.
Clearing my mind, I started making mental notes of the different artifacts and ingredients I needed to conjure the most basic defensive spells (Oh and I would need a torch too, since last night had shown I never could get a simple harmless flare spell right without setting everything flammable ablaze!) .
So, just as my mind wandered through the practical details of my forthcoming adventure, the innkeeper stormed into the cell and startled me with a grunt:
“Get lost, and never show your face around these parts again, you pathetic excuse of a mage”
I hung my head in disgust and headed towards the exit, gathering my meager belongings, powders, fluids, vials and roots, all helping to make a fool of myself next time I’d try to cast a spell I thought I’d learned proper.
Sometimes, reading spell books for too long, I’d get completely confused between abjuration, transmutation, conjuration, divination, and all the other aspects of my craft, be it verbal, somatic or material in nature.
But that didn’t mean that with a bit of luck, with a nudge from destiny, I wouldn’t do wonders like Grandmaster Ixagg.
After a couple of hours, I had gathered strength, food and supplies to embark on my perilous journey to the Shrine…alone!
Well, there is a reason why adventurers travel in pack, each being a specific asset to the group: warriors grunt, chop and slash, clerics heal and sometimes squeal, mages amaze and set things ablaze, and bards cheer everyone up with a good ole ballad.
Well, believe it or not, I had never met anyone worth looting with, hum, or was it the contrary?
So here I was, plowing my way through the thick of the wood, only protected by my large brown hat, a lucky charm hanging from my neck, bat skelies dangling from my pouch like undead puppets, and with my half naked feet already sore with blisters…that and all kinds of nasties creeping up my robes…
Twilight fell upon the woods as I closed in on the cave’s entrance.
I giggled in anticipation, set camp and started a fire with twigs and brimstones, and found it safer to do it “ranger style”, this time around.
I tried to fall asleep, but echoes of the night kept me awake, as did the exciting prospect of laying hands on a powerful magic artifact that would be the conduct of greater knowledge.
Soon people would bow before me, as I would revel in arcana like Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy, and Nethermancy.
I would watch lesser and greater daemons alike grovel before me, and gain access to unlimited treasures…and pleasures, both earthly and otherworldly!
This is where it happened, a voice suddenly echoed through my head, soothing like a lullaby, a sweet and whimsical tune, seemingly from female origin…
Did I drink to much mead that night, did I smoke too much of that weed that street kid offered me the other day…no, the voice was clear and soft, and the words were nothing but an invitation to a place I was soon to visit :
“My dear friend, oh powerful wizard Vilarcane, come to me in my humble stone estate, I have a collection of rare and beautiful artifacts I wish you to behold, come and be part of my life as well, come, hurry…I need you, I want you…”
The voice then vanished and I regained full consciousness…I felt a surge of feral attraction; I wanted to see and feel who had called upon me.
For the first time in my young life I felt desired, and desire, and for one moment I forgot about the wand, about power, about my own and selfish drive.
A blink of an eye later, I had a torch in my hand, my worn leather bag around the shoulder and I proceeded into the cave.
The silence was almost debilitating, and the interior of the cave was pitch black except for the flicker of the torch against the wet stone.
After what seems aeons of walking aimlessly through the cave, the tunnel widened and opened into a vast circular room. I could see remnants of sustaining arches and pillars and richly detailed stone statues scattered throughout the room.
Waving my torch up and down while progressing through what seemed to be a crumbling shrine of greyish granite, I froze in shock and awe as I laid eyes upon a dome of black obsidian, half buried into a pool of bluish ooze.
The shiny and perfectly regular marble of obsidian was already a sight to behold, but I gasped at the sheer sight of the object standing on top of it, thick strings of obsidian wrapped around it in the shape of a braid.
It was the legendary Wand of Ixagg the Gray, no doubt about it, I had learned the lore from my runic study of Unearthed Arcana…a tiny wand made of pure and immaculate crystal, like it had been carved directly into a block of ice.
I couldn’t believe it, it was right here in front of me, and I only needed to figure out how to retrieve it from its natural jewel case…
I know this wasn’t the brightest thing to do, but my torch was already weakening and I wanted to look further and find my female host, so here I went and grabbed the wand and tried to pull the obsidian braids away and loosen their grasp on the lower, thinner part of the magical item…
At that very moment I noticed something was off, I mean, is obsidian supposed to be moist and gluey…
…and soft?!
And above all, is obsidian supposed to move of its own free will!!!
I lunged backwards and landed on my bottom as I watched the dome emerge from the pool of ooze , revealing a giant sphere which started hovering above me.
Then I thought my heart would stop, as I beheld the most incredible creature I had ever laid eyes upon…
Floating before me, a bulbous body slowly unveiling a central, unblinking eye, and a large maw filled with dagger like teeth.
Then I suddenly realized what the braids holding the wand were made of, at the end I could see smaller eyes popping out, attached to wriggling stalks of the same black and shiny jelly, sprout from the top of the orb like body towering down at me. The wand fell into the ooze, floating above its surface.
As I tried to regain my bearings and grabbed the now fading torch and turned back to run for my life, that is when I heard the voice and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Come my dear, come and look at me, I am the beholder, the eye tyrant, the sphere of many eyes, the overseer and thou shall seek your future in my oculus, and I’ll even make some room for you in my private gallery”
At this very moment, I noticed why the statue I was leaning on for balance looked so pristine and perfect.
It did look like a dwarf all right, one of noble birth, with full and expensive gear, waving a master crafted double edged axe and a sturdy round shield, strapped in padded armor with all nook and crannies from head to toes…
…but the expression of the statue’s face was nothing a human or even elven artist could ever have reproduced with such subtlety, a mixture of anger and bewilderment, of one facing slow yet instant death, without the slightest hope of escape !
Then I noticed the big sweat drop on his cheek…one of stone, made of thousands shades of grey
Flesh to Stone, a spell only master wizards could dream of casting, was like a cheap card trick to this super intelligent being of the Underdark, and I was about to be the new target practice and latest addition to its art collection.
At least I would become significant to someone, I thought in an accent of dark humor and desperation.
Then I prayed to the only god I knew, crumpled and rolled towards the pool behind me in a desperate attempt to reach for the wand.
Fully aware of my intent, the Beholder started to shimmer in an eerie red and orange glow.
It knew the time for charming and wanton was over, and it was going to go full aggro on me.
I could feel the heat building above my head as the beholders’ tentacles infused with pure power, ready to lay down powerful magical rays that would either obliterate me, or at least turn me into a cloud of ashes.
In what seemed like an eternity in slow motion, I managed to pull the wand from the sticky ooze and, not knowing what to do, placed it right in front of me as if I held a Christian cross in front of a rabid vampire.
I knew it wouldn’t work, but at least I had neither been frozen nor disintegrated by merely touching the wand, which was kind of a relief.
The Beholder was now entirely ablaze, looking like a sphere of molten lava with blood-soaked eyes, and then the rays struck me with full prejudice.
I decided to close my eyes and let my life mentally scroll before me…kind of ironic, isn’t it?
A moment later…I was still feeling my heart pounding, and the voice had turned from bewitching to irritated, and then came the burn...my hands felt like I was clenching at charred coal, but no, it was merely the wand…the rays were miraculously converging right through the middle of it, like it attracted them, and absorbed their energy till it eventually dried out…Because it was struggling to contain it, the wand had turned from blue to crimson and generated a radiant heat wave.
The beholder was now lowering its bobbing spherical mass to my eye level to strike the final blow.
One could tell from the changing shade of its pupil it was going to be Flesh to Stone…
I couldn’t hold it any longer, my brain commanded me to throw the scorching wand away, and I tossed it in front of me.
I guess my god had listened to my prayer, because the incandescent wand landed at the edge of the black pool, and I heard a whoosh, then I saw a huge burst of flames as high as a surrounding wall, engulfing the beholder in its wake, which voice almost instantly turned into shrieks and soon after, terrifying gurgles of pain and agony.
Super intelligent being, my …!
Anyways, that unknown black substance seemed like a pretty decent energy source, I’d have to write this down in my memoirs for future generations of engineers.
While I gazed at the charred remains of the beholder, now deflating in a hissing sound and putrid stench, with its countless sprouts spread on the floor like a bunch of faded flowers, I noticed the wand was already cooling down after the fire had died out completely.
I bent over and grabbed the relic reverently, that thing had saved my life after all.
Looking at the statues around me, at the back of the dead sack of jelly that once was a terrifying creature, I thought I recognized that of Ixagg the Gray himself, which in turn explained why the magic item had remained here after the beast had lured the poor Wizard to its own demise.
From afar, he looked like a benevolent balding old man with a pony tail and a goatee, but I knew he had once possessed the true and immense power of genesis.
I proceeded to pay my respects…that is when I slipped on one of those goddamned sprout eyes on the floor…I felt my skull crack open as it connected with the base of a crumbled pillar.
My vision blurred, I could feel blood spilling from my nose, and I thought to myself…
That god we mentioned before :
“…What the fuck !…DM, my Vilarcane Wizzy Level 1 rolls 2 natural 20 in a row to grab the wand in time before the coup de grâce and then have the miracle of Ixagg bestowed upon him to put that thing down, I mean… 1 in a million ! Then I have to die like that ?! Come on, man, I was about to level up big time !!!”
Dungeon Master : “Well, seems there was a random event factoring in your luck and dexterity minuses, you see Beholder’s “strike fear” curse still being in effect, and well…
… I just rolled it for you, and see for yourself, seems your luck has run out !” he chuckled in mischief, then lifted up the cardboard folding screen, revealing a twenty sided dice, number 1 pointing at the sky.
______________________________________________________________________
Ixagg the Gray aka. Gary Gygax, was the creator of the world of Dungeons and Dragons
“…What the fuck !…DM, my Vilarcane Wizzy Level 1 rolls 2 natural 20 in a row to grab the wand in time before the coup de grâce and then have the miracle of Ixagg bestowed upon him to put that thing down, I mean… 1 in a million ! Then I have to die like that ?! Come on, man, I was about to level up big time !!!”
Dungeon Master : “Well, seems there was a random event factoring in your luck and dexterity minuses, you see Beholder’s “strike fear” curse still being in effect, and well…
… I just rolled it for you, and see for yourself, seems your luck has run out !” he chuckled in mischief, then lifted up the cardboard folding screen, revealing a twenty sided dice, number 1 pointing at the sky.
______________________________________________________________________
Ixagg the Gray aka. Gary Gygax, was the creator of the world of Dungeons and Dragons
Vil, October 2th 2013 (Spoiler is the end of the text and the epilogue, so do yourself a favour and don't click until you have read the rest of the novel)
Last edited:
KiraxSummers
[13] Hero
Ha! I love it! Even the geeky D&D ending XD I'm such a sucker for literature... You write anything longer and I'll be sitting her all day :P
VILARCANE
[14] Master
So glad you liked it and thanks for the nice PM. Your a doll ! <3
TwistedAsura
The Wanderer
Wow man I loved it! The character was interesting and the speech was done perfectly! And I loved the ending hehe.
Reading user created content always makes me want to work on stories because you guys are just so original and creative.
Reading user created content always makes me want to work on stories because you guys are just so original and creative.
WindupSkeleton
[14] Master
Those natural 1's =/
brucege
[14] Master
I can totally relate to the protagonist as a poor shortie trying to make it big. You portrayed his thought processes both convincingly and amusingly, like that "oh shit" moment when he noticed that the statue used to be a fellow adventurer and also that moment of genuine gratitude as he picked up Ixagg's wand after the fight. The only thing I would work on is increasing the variety of your sentence structures. All in all, this is excellent writing.
VILARCANE
[14] Master
Thanks for your comments, you made my day really...
WindupSkeleton
[14] Master
I recall you telling me your name came from an old character - Is this a write up of an actual session then? Either way it was decently written and certainly very engaging!
VILARCANE
[14] Master
You remember well but no it is pure fantasy derived from a bedtime story i made up for Lil Vil, also playing a very simplified version of D&D with me and the rest of the family once in a while.
And my neutral evil Wizard Vilarcane was in fact Level 9 by the time he met a grumpy blue dragon.
But that's another story...
And thanks for the decently written, and engaging, means much to me l'ami...
And my neutral evil Wizard Vilarcane was in fact Level 9 by the time he met a grumpy blue dragon.
But that's another story...
And thanks for the decently written, and engaging, means much to me l'ami...
rdmunhoz
[13] Hero
man... it could be a great book!!! If you publish I would buy for sure
VILARCANE
[14] Master
Ok, i got a request from Darkrythm in PM, i am really not a request kind of guy so let this one be the last, but Darkrythm stood up for me not so long ago as an admin, so i tried my best to make a character design that would fit the various inputs he has given me and the following the nice background story he provided me...
The reason i post it here in my thread is thatit took me one hour to get him right after all, it helps me get closer to the 100 page mark and retire for the 100th time, I want him to accept the challenge of recreating him based on pics below and post in his thread along with his full background story (which i have but won't post here because i didn't ask for permission and i think it is fair he posts it in his thread when he is done with his ater ego, not a typo, just another silly pun).
Provided he likes him and finds him faithful to his own bio.
A wanderer, battleworn, wounded and scarred, but skilled in all martial arts, ferocious and unstoppable at times.
I hope he'll appreciate all the little details i have crafted to bring his text to life :)
Because he is a wanderer, i shot him in different stages and moods, featuring various weapon styles (he is using kilik mimic style as requested).
Oh and i kept the black ponytail, just added hair where you expected it least D.
I threw in a few puns for good measure, Vil style...
In case you wonder, the belt is wolf skin, the beard is a new technique blendind racoon and facial hair, and the pant is an armored hakami reinforced with turtle shells...the last but one pic shows why and how i did this turtle shell effect...
In the end, i really like this character and will keep him as an alternate edge master of sorts...so thanks Darkrythm for the original idea and guidance / art direction.
The reason i post it here in my thread is that
Provided he likes him and finds him faithful to his own bio.
A wanderer, battleworn, wounded and scarred, but skilled in all martial arts, ferocious and unstoppable at times.
I hope he'll appreciate all the little details i have crafted to bring his text to life :)
Because he is a wanderer, i shot him in different stages and moods, featuring various weapon styles (he is using kilik mimic style as requested).
Oh and i kept the black ponytail, just added hair where you expected it least D.
I threw in a few puns for good measure, Vil style...
In case you wonder, the belt is wolf skin, the beard is a new technique blendind racoon and facial hair, and the pant is an armored hakami reinforced with turtle shells...the last but one pic shows why and how i did this turtle shell effect...
In the end, i really like this character and will keep him as an alternate edge master of sorts...so thanks Darkrythm for the original idea and guidance / art direction.
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WindupSkeleton
[14] Master
Snap son, it's awesome!
VILARCANE
[14] Master
buuuuut Tirarules, its padded leather and turtle shell armored pants, but thanks anyways :)
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VILARCANE
[14] Master
Merci mon ami !
Fancy checking the few gods you probably missed a few pages back (not fishing for comments, just wondering IF you saw what came after Athena...)
TwistedAsura
The Wanderer
First of all, Wow. Just wow man I am really impressed. The detail you put into every one of your characters never ceases to amaze me. This character is fantastic and I am proud to have had you take a request from me(Sorry about requesting in the first place haha). This is one thing I will always remember in my SC journey. The way you push CaS making to the limit is fantastic. I accept your challenge(Although I need to find a way to take a decent picture with no capture card T.T)
I will do my best to recreate the character exactly(Although with your level of creation it wont be easy @.@) then I will do another version with maybe one or two slightly changed features. Over all the character is amazing and I am extremely impressed!
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VILARCANE
[14] Master
Thanks a lot Darkrythm, and i look forward to seeing what you come up with, both replica and your own special edition of Ater...
VILARCANE
[14] Master
Thanks a lot Dark,
Yeah, i admit it can be hard to redo 1:1, especially if you are missing some stickers, but in turn that will help you create your own version, which is in the end what we want to see, right, or else where is the fun :)
Sorry for not nailing the age right, but for me a wanderer is someone who has been travelling for quite some time, hence the middle-aged Ater. But please, yes, do the younger version, actually, i started with a younger version myself, but in the end i thought he needed a grittier look, especially with the badly healed scars on his cheeks and the face / eyebrow presets chosen to make him look like an experienced adventurer (also fitting the mimic kilik style).
About the eye now, if you look carefully, you'll see i have used one ExEq on the sides of the beard, but where are the others (did you ever see me not use all 3 slots :).
I won't tell you everything, but think of an apple and demonic horns, and you may have your answer (i can also tell you it is gonna be a chore to size and position right, you will if you wanna make it look like it is only a standard eye (well, the pupil is smaller if you look closely, which is a hint :)
Try to put your own distinctive touch to your Ater, because that is the fun part after all :P
Anyways, i hope you don't mind my posting your comments here, and it humbles me to see i can still refill others' creative juice with my CAS.
I will now go to your thread and read your first chapter :)
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KiraxSummers
[13] Hero
Dayum! O.o I love those pants! XD And the sideburns and everything. Hey, three pages to go til you hit your century. We should, like, throw a party or something. Dionysus can bring the mead :P