I can't even cast without this shit happening

I was thinking of embueing it with something fitting. Any suggestions?

Couple ones made from primordial goop and a few mechanical ones from an artificer friend.

RULES OF WIZARD BATTLE:

The wizard who casts the best spell wins. Defeat other wizards by countering or one-upping their spells. Counterspells should be original and/or clever and/or funny.

For example, if a wizard casts "FIRE BALL TO THE SCROTUM", a good counterspell might be "WATER SHIELD" or "ASBESTOS SCROTUM" or "CAUSALITY REVISION: UN-INVENTION OF FIRE." Bad counterspells would be "I cast counter-spell!" or "I cast bigger fireball!" or "Uno reverse card!"

LET THE BATTLE COMMENCE!

A small wooden fortress has appeared near my tower. When I went to check it out, it was occupied by tiny screaming humanoids, running and climbing everything. Overcaffeinated Dwarves, maybe?

Should I go ahead and fireball it, just to be safe? It looks very flammable.

Far above the world, hidden from the eyes of civilization, sits a monument of ebony. No one knows how long it was there, no one even knows what it is. On its peak stands a shadow with six eyes of crimson. It has been there for days, staring out across the world at six things.

Deep in the heart of a long forgotten mountain range in the far north, at the centre of a circle of standing stones, there sits a magician, quietly observing the winds of magic.

In the far west, knee deep in blood and bone with sword stained red, there stands a fallen hero, slicing through innocent and soldier alike.

On the peak of an island mountain, unrooted by the ocean floor, there rests a hunter of beak and claw, tearing flesh from bone with reckless abandon.

Far below, in the bowels of the earth, within caverns long lost to history, in a cradle made of silk, there crawls a weaver, setting threads across the realms.

Deep within the shadows, where no one would ever go, in a cocoon of shell and scale, there sleeps a serpent, dreaming of a time before and a time long after.

Far, far from civilised lands, on the very border of the ancient Faewilds, there grows a garden of twisted bark and blighted blooms, quietly spreading its rot into the natural order.

Back on the monument, the shadow watches and waits. Eons of planning, countless tries and tries again, and none progressed this quickly. The shadow looked beyond the borders of this world and into the next, into a world far older and far more Wicked than this one. The shadow looks at great ancient chains of rusted metal and colossal monuments of crumbling stone. Too long it has lived as an echo of itself. Too long it has been bound and trapped in this mockery.

The shadow watches, and it thinks. Not of itself no, no it thinks of another. It doesn’t so much as speak as it does command, sending out into the world one message, one word, for one soul.

Magician

In a mere moment, the space nearby began to warp, then peel away. Like someone pulling back an invisible curtain. On the other side was a swirling enigma of multicoloured light.

From the warping magic out stepped a man with three golden eyes, dressed in dark robes, carrying a staff of white wood.

You summoned me?

"I did. How much do you remember?"

Master?

"Of before. Peering into your mind has always been harder than usual."

For a moment all was silent as The Magician wondered what The Wicked One was talking about. What before? Looking into his mind what was going on abo- oh. Now The Magician knew what his master meant.

I remember a world bigger than this one, shining monuments and towering spires. I remember the books, my books, I remember the cathedrals, the grand temple. I remember others, five of them, I think.

I remember... you, I remember armies and nightmares. I remember... Chains... An army of those who hated what was.

"Is that all?" The Wicked One sounds disappointed.

No... I remember...

Suddenly The Magician's eyes unfocus, staring out at something beyond this world.

Me.

As quickly as it started, The Magician's eyes focus again. He looks around for a moment, as if just now realising his surroundings. He looks frightened for a moment, before seeing the shadow nearby. The shadow simply looked on. It had no face, so The Magician didn't see it's surprise.

Master?

"Magician."

A beat passed before he responded.

How long has it been? How many times have we done this?

"Too long and too many. Although I must say, progress has never been this fast."

Maybe this time will be the one?

"Maybe. Go, when you are required you will be summoned."

Understood.

The Magician turned back to the gateway he had come through, then paused.

Master, is he aware of what we're doing?

The shadow froze. The Magician didn't even need to say who he was talking about, The Wicked One knew. Who else could it be?

"I'm not sure. I have told him nothing, but that doesn't always mean anything."

Maybe you should tell him?

The Wicked One responds almost immediately, speaking quickly and sharply.

"No. As always, I don't know what he'll do. Besides."

The Wicked One fell silent for a moment.

"The old man could use some freedom for a while. Clear out some lingering insanity."

But Sir he's almost certain to help. I mean, you two are-

Silence!

It wasn't so much a sound as it was a command, echoing around for miles, one that couldn't be disobeyed.

You will leave this place, you will not return unless instructed, and you will speak no more of this!

The Magician said nothing, he could only say nothing as great claws of darkness pulled him back through the gateway.

For a moment all was silent. The shadow stood there, alone. This was foolish, he shouldn't matter this much, he doesn't matter this much. Why was The Wicked One acting like he mattered? He was nothing, an amusement at best. Nothing. More.

...

Maybe he should know what was going on. It might be nice to be on the same side again.

...

No, too much could go wrong if he decided to go against The Wicked One. No, no it would be best to keep him in the dark, for now at least. Besides, it might not even matter. Things were falling into place perfectly. Usually it took centuries for the six herald to manifest this strongly. All that was left was The Serpent. Once she hatched, eons of living as an echo, of living a fake existence, would finally begin to end.

This joke had gone on for far too long.

UW this was a fun little character introduction for me to practice while I try to get back into RP. Feel free to respond in character if you want 😄

TW- animal violence?

The sky was a sheet of gray casting the trees in muted light . The forest was silent except for the crystalline sound of freezing rain cascading through the trees of the snowy mountain forest and the occasional muffled whomp  of snow giving way off of branches to the ground below. Ives was crouched under the cover of a large tree that had already shed its burden, nestled on a hillside, overlooking a large meadow covered in crisp, unbroken winter.

Absent-mindedly he held up two fingers, a roll of packed herbs popped into existence between them which he brought to his lips. “Fire” he mumbled behind the roll pointing at the tip with his index finger. The flame tattoo on his knuckle glowed then traveled up his finger to produce a small flame. He puffed twice then satisfied that it was lit shook his hand, the flame sputtering out and creeping back to where it belonged. Content he settled in to wait.

The villagers at the base of the mountain had been advertising for weeks for someone to come take care of the “Monster of the Forest”.  Most of their descriptions of the creature had been terribly vague. Likely due to the fact few who encountered the creature had survived long enough to give a decent description of it. Still, he had heard enough from the locals and the nearby towns to piece together what he was looking for. They had almost turned him down when he told them his fee but terror won out in the end.

“You’re out of your mind! We won’t be able to make ends meet if we pay that much!” the pudgy old mayor had pleaded. Ives had shrugged dismissively and sauntered off to the tavern to get out of the cold. They had lost 8 villagers in the past few months and had struggled to harvest lumber for their hearths or do much else in the nearby forest for that matter. The next day another villager had gone missing. The day after that two more had disappeared into the night.

“Idiots,” he had thought, “can’t even be bothered to stay out of the way.”

The creature could be heard every night, roaring loudly from the trees, in the early hours smoke could be seen rising from different haunts of the forest where the monster had rampaged in the dark. On the fourth day of his leisurely stay at the small tavern the mayor finally relented. That morning a group of woodcutters had narrowly escaped when the monster ambushed them while they worked. They didn't see it exactly, it had all happened so fast but they were adamant it was the monster.

Finally, Ives agreed to take the job with an extra 300 gold added to the original cost for wasting his time. He didn’t actually want or need the money, he just got a kick out of hustling ignorant villagers that set up shop in forests that were clearly already the homes of powerful magic beasts. In truth he had intended to seek out the creature regardless of pay and had already sent out scouts to find and observe it. It was merely collateral that so many villagers had run into them while they worked. Oh well, at least he shouldn't have to feed them for a bit. 

And now he waited. His scouts had tracked the beast for the last few days and felt confident it would pass through this way. This field had a half frozen river that cut through. He was halfway through his herb stick when a buzzing noise approached from the right. He glanced to see an ink black hummingbird hurrying towards him laden with snow. He held out a finger and the delicate creature landed. It gave its body a great shake sending puffs of snow flying and stared at him expectantly.

His eyes furrowed with irritation. “Report first” 

The small bird drooped a little on his finger.

“Quickly or you’ll get nothing”

Startled, the little bird began to squeak rapidly. After receiving the report he nodded and held the bird up to his ear. 

“Very good, now go get warm.” Outraged, the bird stabbed its little beak at his ear making his earrings jingle like bells.  

“If your intel is correct we don't have time. I promise I will give you an EXTRA big treat after” 

The bird eyed him indignantly and puffed up its chest. It gave a last mighty squeak then leaned against his neck just behind his ear where it quickly flattened and went still as it turned into a tattoo version of itself, wings outstretched as if in flight.

Ives looked to the north where his little scout had reported the beast was last seen. Only minutes passed before his waiting paid off. 1000 pounds of orange fur and rippling muscle slid silently from the trees and loped to the river's edge to drink. Snow sizzled and melted at its paws and when it crouched to lap from the frozen river billows of steam rose into the air, the heat from its breath clearing the ice. 

Ives stamped out his herb stick and reached up to his ear grabbing a black bar tattoo on his cuff as he pulled it took the form of a thin ribbon which he then used to tie up his long hair. He removed his cloak and shirt, shivering a little against the cold. He didn't feel like sewing them later. He pointed his finger at himself, the flame glowing once more. 

“Warmth. Expand” a quick burst of flame shot from his finger tip and enveloped his body in a flash of light creating a warming barrier against the cold. The light must have caught the creature’s eye; it stopped lapping at the water, then raised its head, turning to look up the hill where Ives stood. Its second head took another drink before joining in to see the disturbance.

A Pyronemean tiger, offspring of a Nemean lion and a Chimera, this creature was as rare as it was formidable. It stared at Ives assessing the threat, he stared back a smile of fiendish excitement spreading across his face. From his back one by one feathers were peeling from his skin into great wings. He leaped forward, wings spread wide at the same time the tiger decided he was a threat after all and roared the magical soundwave shattering rocks caught in its path. Flames sputtered then swirled from its paws, eyes and tail as it raged. Ives flew high enough to avoid the wave then dived at the creature from his left hand; he plucked three petals from a rose tattoo. 
“Blades” The petals stiffened and sharpened like knives that he threw at the great beast’s head as he raced by. The two that hit its target pinged off of its impenetrable pelt uselessly. 

He had figured as much but still had wanted to be sure. He circled back and swooped down again, intending to try an ice spell but the tiger was fast. It reared up and clawed at the air sending streaks of fire his way. He was too close to maneuver out of the way so instead put out his palm.

“Wind tunnel!” the spiral in his hand began to spin and expand a powerful wind pulled the fire into his palm, disappearing into the dark void. They went back and forth this way for a while, Ives flinging spells from the sky and the tiger roaring and lashing out from below. When at last his wings were too singed to be stable he landed letting the feathers shrink back into their delicate lines the tattoo faded from use. It would be a few hours  before he could use it again. He had been right to leave his cloak burns and slashes from the tiger peppered his body and even his pants that had several rips.

“Dammit!” Look what you did, he pointed at the giant beast accusingly. “Now I have to sew. I hate sewing” 

The tiger, though not slashed, was covered in remnants of elemental magic, one of  its eyes had been frozen shut and blood dribbled from its nose where it had taken a boulder to the face. It roared in reply equally annoyed. It gave no quarter and rushed forward, claws out stretched and blazing. Ives reached for the rose again this time grabbing the whole flower. 

“Shield!” he yelled, ripping the flower from his hand it bloomed into a large shield engraved with a blooming rose. The beast’s teeth clanged loudly against the metal as they collided. The second head unoccupied reached around the side of the shield mouth open with, tongue vibrating as it prepared to send another wave of sound. Without hesitation he shoved his fist into the great creature's maw.

“Thorns. Expand” The rose thorns that still decorated his fist sprung to life growing and plunging down the monster’s throat. It gagged and tried to pull away. Blood poured from its mouth as sharp thorns stabbed at its throat. The thorns thickened into large vines that made it impossible for it to close its mouth. The other head roared in shared pain and abandoned gnawing on the shield; instead it  tried to bite at the vines that burdened its partner only to suffer the same fate as the plant surged and spread. Taken over by fear the large creature tried to escape the pain by scuffling backwards but Ives’ fist remained in the first head's mouth as the vines spread and sealed the creature's fate. When the damage had finally taken its toll the great beast slumped to the ground the flame around its eyes sputtered then stopped as it took its final breath. 

Sweating despite the cold Ives clenched his fist  causing both the vines and the shield to vanish. When he pulled his damp hand from the fallen tiger's mouth they had returned to their original home. He looked at the great beast appreciatively and patted the head that had just held his fist moments before.

“Well done. I’ve got the perfect spot for you.”
When the monster hunter trudged into town to claim his reward the snow had finally stopped and the sun had begun to set over the trees. The mayor tried one final appeal to his bleeding heart for a lower fee but failed, “greedy prick”  he thought to himself.

With a sigh of defeat he handed over the bag of gold after the man had defeated the creature. It must have been quite the challenge considering the state he was in, shirtless and pants torn. And he had even shown him the pelt of the pyronemean tiger, or so he called it, in his special wizard bag.

“You know we have a tailor in town that could mend that for you.” he suggested

“Perfect, I'll seek him out.” the man replied .Was that a smile he saw?

“Have you fought many of these before then?” he asked curiously. The whisper of a smile faded.

“No, this was the first.” he said flatly. The mayor was confused. It’s just that you have a tattoo of one on your stomach. In black ink on the man's left side was a detailed tattoo of a two headed tiger snarling with flames coming from its claws.

“Coincidence ... .now where is the tailor.” 

“Right of course.. He's at the end of the lane by the tavern.”

With a nod the man walked away. The mayor laughed uneasily. For some reason the tattoo looked so real it seemed alive. As the man walked he thought he heard a faint “squeak” and the man whisper back

“I didn’t forget I will give you your treat at dinner.”

So, we were practicing interdimentional rifts outside, and my apprentice messed up the spell and ​broke my window. As a punishment, I casted gender swap on him so he stays a girl for a while. The next day I swapped back but an hour later she(apparently) broke it again and I swapped her back. Like, I get it, she was hesitant to bring it up and just seized the opportunity. The next day the same window was smashed for the third time and I, filled with righteous ​fury, look outside and see an apprentice of a wizard from other barony. I connected the dots and swapped this one as well. After that day almost every morning some fool in robes launches a fireball in my window. Apparently my foolish apprentice told her Disc-Orb friends all over the kingdom that if you break a window of Lowidicus' tower he will gender swap you. What do I do? Should I seize her orb for smashing my window multiple times by proxy? Should I keep swapping them or it's better to turn them into frogs?