Magic Affinities


Okay, so here’s a little thing for my fellow Flinterforges. It’s a first draft so read with kind eyes.

The new King’s ire was to be feared. He had already sent both his brothers into exile and several of his predecessor’s courtiers to the headsman before word of a new King had even found its way to the outer realms. His Majesty saw treachery in every shadow, deceit upon every face. He wore his paranoia like a shroud and lashed out at anyone who displeased him, so convinced of their duplicity that all feared to be in his presence.

So when the royal jeweler presented the Glass Crown to the new King, his nerves betrayed him and the ornament of station fell from his shaking hands and shattered at the feet of the King. Seeing this as an affront to his rise to power, the King had the jeweler cut into pieces, one for every piece of shattered glass. He then commanded the jeweler’s apprentice to repair the ancient artifact.

“Your Highness, the Glass Crown is beyond repair. I will make you a new crown—“

“No! The Glass Crown has adorned the brow of every rightful King for the last thousand years. Now that I am the rightful King, it will adorn mine as well. Fail me and I will have your head. A fortnight hence, you will present me with a crown. Either mine…or yours.”

Such a task was impossible. But to deny the King would mean a cruel and bloody end. So the apprentice set about the task with a diligence and purpose that would have made his mentor proud, yet he still did not possess the skill to repair the Glass Crown. There were to many pieces, too many facets, and he had few too many hands to make whole what had been sundered. Not even his dearly departed mentor could have done such a thing.

Two weeks passed. The jeweler’s apprentice was not going to be able to present the Glass Crown to the King on the following day. And when the King was presented with the apprentice’s failure, he would have his head.

Knowing it was his last night on earth, the jeweler’s apprentice sought solace in the arms of a whore. But instead of indulging in one final night of lust, he only rested his head in the whore’s lap and wept. When the whore inquired as to his sorrow, the apprentice explained the impossibility of his task and how, on the morrow, the King would have his head for his failure.

“I haven’t enough hands for the task,” he cried.

The whore caressed his brow with a gentle finger and whispered in his ear, “There is magic that can help you. Here, let me show you.”

That night, the apprentice experienced ecstasies he never knew were possible.

He stumbled weak-kneed in the twilight of early dawn, the whore’s enchantments fresh in his ear. His body begged for sleep, but paid it no mind. He went straight away to his workshop, reciting the whore’s incantations with the same lustful exuberance that set his world afire. The myriad shards of The Glass Crown floated in the delicate caress of Many Hands and the jeweler’s apprentice made whole what had once been sundered.

He presented the King with The Glass Crown, now flawless once again. For a moment, the King seemed disappointed that he had no cause to execute the apprentice, but the beauty of the crown pushed all thoughts of murder from his mind. But murder was still cause for the day for when the King placed the crown upon his head, the invisible hands that mended the ornament of station took to the King and undid him with such vicious and violent means that, save for the jeweler’s apprentice and a sympathetic whore, all in the kingdom believed that The Glass Crown had found the usurper unworthy.


Thanks for that great story!
Just for the record: did you or the book make “Many Hands” bold?! oO


I made it bold just to make sure we knew which affinity the story was related to.


I love that this implies the whore was a Flinterforge, you create a great many a thing in your guild! Most of my friends are “of the forges” and I can’t wait to show this to them!


I’ve been feeling like expanding a bit on what I wrote. Not really on the story itself, but more about what I was doing with the magical affinities. So, to begin with, the “Calling” part of Truth and Calling is present in the background of the story, with Frederick’s unexplicable draw towards learning how to fight, and his instant reaction to the scream. The stance he fell into, the way he made the man drop the knife, those are Combat Magic at work. Now, when he spoke to the thug, told him to him to turn himself in, to reconsider, that’s a bit of a mixture. Frederick knowing exactly what to say, bringing up the man’s cousin, even though he’d never met the man before, that’d be the Truth in Truth and Calling. Meanwhile, the force with which he spoke, the way they made the man listen (though the same effect didn’t, in fact, force him to obey), that’d be Makepeace.

However, what’s most interesting, at least to me, is the blur. Because that doesn’t quite fit with anything, does it? What I was doing there is somewhat… Odd. It is a combination, like his speech, but whereas the latter used the effects of two different affinities together, so as to strengthen each other, the former instead combined two different affinities in order to create a different effect, mixing the aspects of both. I took @grimangel53’s idea of Grim’s Convergence, that of knowing on a large scale, what will happen, how events will lead into others, and mixed it with Combat Magic, using the latter’s influence to make the former act on a far shorter term, in a blunter way, and drawing from it in order to show the man’s actions at exactly the right time for Frederick to react.


Now this makes me want to write up a couple more, specifically for things like combat magic and makepeace


I’ve been holding on to this one for a while but here it is.
I present to you,
Trusted Confidant (I’m a novice writer so please keep that in mind )

There once was a quiet town, on the misty cliffs overlooking a frozen lake. The only
sound during the town’s dreary days where that of the church bells, swaying in the wind.
However, when the darkness sank around the village and children crawled into their
beds, that’s when the fires could be seen through the mist. Dancing flames followed by
strange words, no one knew what these flames where, some said witches, others the
Fey Folk, but those pious few believed it was the devil punishing the town for harboring
the strange old man and his boy.
They lived outside of town, in an old wilting cottage on a mossy fairy hill. The strange
pair looked nothing like those of the village, with stark white hair and wide crystal eyes,
everyone avoided the two, unless they needed help. For whenever sickness or poverty
struck the land people from all across village would make the pilgrimage to the old
man’s hut, where him and his boy would sing strange songs, not unlike those that
followed the fires, and those ill few would be cured, just to scurry back inside their
churches to repent. One day the boy grew frustrated and yelled at his uncle, “Why do
they fear us so, when all we want to do is to ease their pain?” his crystal eyes hardened
with frustration.
“They fear that which they do not know.” his uncle said wearily, for he too had felt the
years of solitude heavy on his heart, he missed the fires and festivals of the other
Gossmere, but he stayed for his mission here was far more important.
Weeks passed, and then months, until finally Spring turned into Summer, and the boy
was sent into the forest to collect new herbs. He wondered long and far until he heard
her voice, speaking to someone though no others where in sight, she was young and
had the same wild red hair as the women in the village, she held a cross close to her
heart as she bent down over the dying sapling. He watched in wonder as her words
coaxed it from death, and into a mature pine. He made himself known, and she turned,
fear hanging on her like a cloth. “You won’t tell a soul?” she asked approaching him,
and he held his hand out, golden light encircling his wrist “I am like you, I swear it.” They
spoke briefly before nightfall and both rushed home before the flames came out, though
neither truly feared them. He rushed to the cabin on the old mossy hill and burst in, hiseyes alight with excitement. “We aren’t alone Uncle, there are others, here in this
village!” He projected his emotions into his Uncle’s mind, so he may see the girl as clear
as he, but no sooner had these thoughts left his mind that he did fall unto the ground,
screams of terror clawing from his mouth, and his once honey sweet voice was so raw
and afraid, until it was silence all the same.
And his crystal eyes seemed to fade.


very good. very very good


This is my interpretation of the Balimora magic abilities at their full peak. Enjoy:

Clarence lifted his head towards the sky as he walked through the city with a grimace on his face, it was much to sunny out in his opinion, he closed his eyes and felt the twisting gnarled magic awaken within him as clouds gathered overhead, and with a smirk he continued on his way to the diner, he sat down gruffly and let out a breath. An older woman came up to him with a frown on her face, “What’ll it be” she grunted. He smiled at her charmingly and again reached for that well of magic within, this time it felt kinder, more nurturing, like a mother’s warm embrace. "I’ll have some soup, with a bit of mushrooms and onions if you would, I know it’s not on the menu, but I’ve just been craving it. he said, his voice soft as a breeze sent a subtle chill through the room and a shimmer came over the woman’s eyes. She smiled at him, like she was looking upon the face of an old friend. “Sure thing sugar, I’ll go make it myself.” she said sweetly. Clarence relaxed and looked out the window, the bustling streets are not what he wished for, he missed the wind whipping through the trees, following the wolves and hearing the birds whisper and sing, he longed for the still hidden places that his fellow man had not touched, where he could live as nature saw fit, to kill or be killed. He hated this fallacy that humans had built, safety at the price of harmony and a disconnect from the world. He was snapped out of his train of thought by the crashing of a plate and the small gasp that came from the young waitress that had cut herself trying to pick it up. Clarence got up and went to her, kneeling he said to her “Here let me see,” Clarence took her hand and reached for his magic. A soft whisper passed through his ears and dots danced across his eyes as her cut sealed shut. He blinked the lights away and smiled at her astonishment, as she looked at him in wonder. He put his finger to his lips and stood up, just in time for his meal to be set at is table.

(I know I didn’t add the bestiary arts, faulton fray’s decay, or uproot I just couldn’t find how to fit them in there, but this is my interpretation of the Balimora’s abilities, I hope you liked it.)


Amazing story! I love the contrast of Gossmere and Balimora, one loves society and other humans, one could do without. Lovely story and great interpretation of your guilds magic!


Thanks! I didn’t put this in there but I also think that Balimora and the magic they use also has the potential to use the user, so to speak. As if it felt that a Balimora was obligated to protect a part of nature it would just guide you there, (on a side note the Balimoran magic reminds me of the Wild Hunt from mythology.)


Question that had me up last night: How do Gossmere fight in battle? I mean we may be healers but the book says we are warriors too… any ideas?


I always imagined Gossmere would shapeshift up for battle.


What shape would you take in battle?
Assuming we have a choice.


If I was you, squares seem pretty tough. Maybe a rectangle tho…


I was thinking a Lion, or bird of prey…


Psh, a star but like… with lots of points instead of just five… no one would want to go around you, you’d be like a dang porcupine!!


I’d be a tetrahedron, because you can’t beat me if you’re utterly confused by me.

(jk Book of Briars I love you pls don’t :frog: me)


I like your style. :smirk:


Ebenguard have access to a variety of offensive and defensive magics (combat magic). This includes buffs and heals a bit.