Nightfire
10-14-07, 04:22 PM
Magic…
How does one truly define this powerful force? Is it a Pandora’s Box that’s not meant to be touched? Is it a neutral force shaped by the will of the user? Is it a spark that exists in all of us or a mere few?
Dryden opened his eyes gazing at the sky above him. He knew one thing about magic, in that it provided an undying thirst. Magic gave you the thirst for learning and the addiction for power. Magic became a part of you when you least expected it. To Dryden it was an every day companion now. Something he had grown accustomed to in his travels. He couldn’t imagine himself without it and at the same time he knew that he’d fiercely fight anyone who tried to take that power away.
What is magic to Dryden?
It was a craving that he held close to him and was willing to feed. And it is the Isle of Scara Brae that would begin this quest for more magic, more power, to try and satisfy that undying craving that stirred in all mages. Dryden had been on the road for roughly a year now. Exploring and learning new things each day that he was traveling. It was a different life this adventuring creed. Something that Dryden wasn’t quite used to given the spoiled life he used to life. Yet with each day he traveled he gained new wisdom, new experiences, and new things to talk about. Was it simply the fact that he was growing used to this? Perhaps, or maybe it was because that during all this time Dryden had a goal that stirred in his young heart. He wanted to be a great wizard, someone that the bards sang songs about just like in the fairy tales and stories he grew up hearing.
It was a rumor that caught his attention. A local mage had died off somewhere in this region. Now Dryden wasn’t a corpse scavenger but, he didn’t want the man’s spell-book and any other minor trinkets he might possess go to waste. After all what good was knowledge if it was simply left to rot? Maybe Dryden would come across a few things he wanted in the man’s things. You never quite knew what you were going to find. Dryden was a wizard an adventurer. And in order to grow stronger he had to come across new ideas and thoughts, gain new skills, and that was perhaps the ultimate deciding factor in all this.
Dryden wanted new skills.
The Windlacer Mountain was a beautiful place, peak like a white talon stretching towards the sky and towering above the rest of the islands major landmarks and terrains. The air fresh and crisp as Dryden was learning as he slowly worked his way up one of the many rough paths that led up the mountain. Though Dryden didn’t plan on going up there to try and get killed by troublesome Harpies. No it was investigating around the base of the Mountain that Dryden would be focused on. Though truly a part of him yearned to climb it he would come back to it some other day as he worked his way down the slope seeing a trade trail that he could travel upon. He paused in his steps and crouched down looking at the ground. You didn’t have to be some survival expert to see the horseshoe imprints and the worn areas where wheels commonly passed.
He was near it according to what he had learned at a bar…
Hopefully he wouldn’t encounter anything too nasty…
How does one truly define this powerful force? Is it a Pandora’s Box that’s not meant to be touched? Is it a neutral force shaped by the will of the user? Is it a spark that exists in all of us or a mere few?
Dryden opened his eyes gazing at the sky above him. He knew one thing about magic, in that it provided an undying thirst. Magic gave you the thirst for learning and the addiction for power. Magic became a part of you when you least expected it. To Dryden it was an every day companion now. Something he had grown accustomed to in his travels. He couldn’t imagine himself without it and at the same time he knew that he’d fiercely fight anyone who tried to take that power away.
What is magic to Dryden?
It was a craving that he held close to him and was willing to feed. And it is the Isle of Scara Brae that would begin this quest for more magic, more power, to try and satisfy that undying craving that stirred in all mages. Dryden had been on the road for roughly a year now. Exploring and learning new things each day that he was traveling. It was a different life this adventuring creed. Something that Dryden wasn’t quite used to given the spoiled life he used to life. Yet with each day he traveled he gained new wisdom, new experiences, and new things to talk about. Was it simply the fact that he was growing used to this? Perhaps, or maybe it was because that during all this time Dryden had a goal that stirred in his young heart. He wanted to be a great wizard, someone that the bards sang songs about just like in the fairy tales and stories he grew up hearing.
It was a rumor that caught his attention. A local mage had died off somewhere in this region. Now Dryden wasn’t a corpse scavenger but, he didn’t want the man’s spell-book and any other minor trinkets he might possess go to waste. After all what good was knowledge if it was simply left to rot? Maybe Dryden would come across a few things he wanted in the man’s things. You never quite knew what you were going to find. Dryden was a wizard an adventurer. And in order to grow stronger he had to come across new ideas and thoughts, gain new skills, and that was perhaps the ultimate deciding factor in all this.
Dryden wanted new skills.
The Windlacer Mountain was a beautiful place, peak like a white talon stretching towards the sky and towering above the rest of the islands major landmarks and terrains. The air fresh and crisp as Dryden was learning as he slowly worked his way up one of the many rough paths that led up the mountain. Though Dryden didn’t plan on going up there to try and get killed by troublesome Harpies. No it was investigating around the base of the Mountain that Dryden would be focused on. Though truly a part of him yearned to climb it he would come back to it some other day as he worked his way down the slope seeing a trade trail that he could travel upon. He paused in his steps and crouched down looking at the ground. You didn’t have to be some survival expert to see the horseshoe imprints and the worn areas where wheels commonly passed.
He was near it according to what he had learned at a bar…
Hopefully he wouldn’t encounter anything too nasty…