Untold Sagas: Aelinore Rystraea by Solaire503 | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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The Echoes of the Arcane The Darkness of Promise

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The Echoes of the Arcane

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In the grand, sunlit atrium of the lecture hall in the Universum Arcanum, a black-haired, purple-eyed wizard named Aelinore Rystraea stood before a class of wide-eyed initiate wizards, each hanging on her every word with bated breath. Her robes shimmered with an iridescent hue, her black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, and a mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes.

"Settle down, young ones," Aelinore began, her voice laced with passion and a charismatic charm. "Today we delve into the thrilling world of artifact recovery, or as I like to call it: 'How to steal from the undead without joining them in the process.'"

The students chuckled, where at once they were filled with anxiety and nervousness, the feelings began to fade under her engaging presence.

"Let's wander back a few years, shall we?" She continued, her hands weaving across the air as she conjured images of a dark, ominous castle surrounded by mist. "Our target was an intact, still working phylactery, our foe was the Lich Erlaxus. Yes, that Erlaxus. The one whose very name can chill the marrow in your bones."

Aelinore paused for dramatic effect, her eyes scanning across the room of young, eager, and promising faces. "Now, a phylactery, for those who might not know, is essentially a lich's lifetime. Steal that, you've got them by the spectral balls. Any self-respecting lich has one, and ensures it's secure. The best liches will hide this in a near impossible-to-find place such as a demiplane. Erlaxus? Let's just say his cauldron was bubbling, but there wasn't a potion in it." The room erupted in laughter, the students appreciated and were enraptured by her irreverent humor.

"Obviously I couldn't just waltz into his lair alone. This required a team, and not just any random team." Aelinore's voice dropped, just enough for all to hear but barely that, "I needed the most talented, quirky bunch of misfits I could find who held a mixture of bravery and stupid curiosity to match my own."

She snapped her fingers, the air beside her shimmered as the images of three individuals appeared, her eclectic crew:

  • Thornby - A dwarven rogue who held a love for shiny objects which was the only thing that surpassed his expertise in handling traps.
  • Miralith - An elven bard who could charm the scales off a dragon, and frequently did.
  • Fizzlepop Grizzlewig - A gnome inventor with a penchant for pyrotechnics and turning invisible at the most opportune moments
  • And me, naturally, the brains of the operation.

"Our plan was simple." Aelinore said, pacing in front of her awestruck students. "Infiltrate the castle, bypass the undead minions, snatch the phylactery, and exit stage left before Erlaxus even knew we were there." She described how Thornby neutralized the arcane traps with a deft flick of his tools, while Miralith distracted a horde of zombie guards with a performance that would've earned a standing ovation from the living. "Now, Fizzlepop," Aelinore continued with a smirk, "created an illusion of Erlaxus himself, leading his own minions on a wild goose chase around the castle. They practically tripped over one another to follow their master's orders."

"Then there I was, in the heart of darkness, face-to-bone with the Lich himself, Erlaxus." Aelinore paused, letting the suspense build. "With a flick of my wrist and a twirl of my staff, I whispered an incantation to swap his precious phylactery with a similarly enchanted turnip. A turnip, my dear students, something no illusionist wizard should work without. While Erlaxus chased his illusionary twin around the castle, the four of us gathered up and wandered out the front door of his house, not a single skeleton or mummified presence attempting to halt us." Aelinore bowed theatrically as the room erupted into laughter and applause.

"Now, what can we learn from this?" she asked, her tone turning more serious. "Firstly, never underestimate the power of a well-placed, enchanted turnip. Secondly, no smart wizard acts alone. There's a reason most adventurers who live to make something of themselves travel in parties, there's a reason a wizard never stands in the frontline, you need a group of friends as much as they need you." She said, winking at the class, her demeanor once more softening.

"In the world of magic, as in life, it's not just about power; it's about using your wits, knowing your resources, and sometimes, having the audacity to do the impossible." As the initiate wizards dispersed, buzzing with excitement and inspiration, Aelinore smiled to herself, satisfied that she had not only taught them a lesson in magic and quirky thievery, but in the art of the absurd.

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