#hard magic system

[herdsworldbuilding]

So despite my own personal statements regarding my dislike for complex, multiverse like narratives. I am infact like most people, a hypocrite.

So let me talk about my multiverse narrative.

This is a project I started sometime in high school, and it keeps changing every year that I work on it. I think it may be the project where I have done the most overhauls on.

There is no garentee I will not overhaul it entirely again in the future. But that will be then, this is now.

So even though it is a constantly changing project, I will share the oldest remaining a (and most consistent part of this project) Witches.

Witches are rare, shapeshifting beings. Able to transform into many things. Though they all have a unique familiar.

This familiar is what they are named for… ie the wolf witch, the chameleon witch or the cat witch, gryphon witch So on and so forth.

Witches for this setting are not born they are made. Quite purposely mind you. As it would be difficult if not impossible to make a witch without all parties consenting to it.

A consensual deal with the devil per-say.

The reason for this is because of how magic naturally works.

There are three kinds of majics. Major majics, middle magics and minor magics.

Under normal circumstances stances major magics like the kind that witches perform are deadly to most beings so minor magics are instead used

See even with minor magic it is done by cooperating with several people at a time. Usually the safest minimum is three individuals. Two to cast one to keep watch. The safest large amount of individuals is somewhere around twelve as any more and it tends to be a too many cooks in the kitchen ordeal.

Magic can be performed alone, but it is difficult and likely to backfire. Especially with the more magic you are dealing with. Or in other words the closer to major majics one gets.

Crafting with magic is slightly less risky but not as potent when done alone, and there’s several ways to do this sort of crafting… but before I get off track.

Witches are the exception to casting magic on thier own, they can just throw it around whillynilly all they want. This is because of one simple fact:

A witch is never alone.

That is because witches make themselves. when they fuse their bodies and consciousness together with others. This horrific process results in a single individual and an offshoot (the familiar)

This individual, with multiple consciousness, two to cast one to watch. Can perform magic as they wish.

Witches like this draw magic from the worlds around them and from themselves, and that is where this whole multiverse thing comes in.

Magic is everywhere and in everything there is life.

And the majority of witches come from and live in the place where dead universes combined. To be melted together and reused until the end of magic. This place. The place where dreams are made and go to die. As it has always been, and never will be. Is connected to everything. The cosmic ocean if you will. The roots of the world tree. The brackish world. The home of the many gates.

So it’s from here that a witch can fulfill their greatest purpose.

See when a witch create themselves they also creat a magic system (middle majics). A way to easily harness that energy so normally inaccessible to most.

Normally a magic system will be used by the witch themselves.

For example the Chameleon Witch upholds a magic system that relies on color, change the color of a thing and change the way that thing fundamentally interacts with life.

The chameleon witch uses their system when they perform magic.

But others can also buy into a witche’s system. Usually the inhabitants of the brackish worlds may buy into a witches system in order to perform magic in an easier way.

But that’s the less interesting option.

The more interesting system occurs when a real world, floating out in the spiderwebs of the cosmos decided to try magic.

If there is enough magic around (at least a 1.7 on my scale) and individuals start to pull on magic. There is a high chance that instead of pulling on nothing they find a witch’s path that’s already been thread. As it is easier to walk the path already taken than bushwhack a new one.

Some systems are more popular to buy into than others. Like the dragon witches elemental system. Or the black witches deal making system.

A magic planet can buy into multiple systems at a time, usually having them fuse into something unique. But they can stay separate too or expand in ways unknown to the witch themselves until they learn of this new idea.

The old sort of magic the kind that sings universes into being, still exists and could in theory be used by anyone in a world with enough magic to notice the fabric of order and chaos that the witches use to create themselves. But why do that when your system lets you throw fire balls? Or even find the mysteries of the universe in the equally impressive minor magics? (I mean the name is deceptive, this magic can be used to revive the dead, grant wishes and control entire worlds of used in the right place by the right “people”, it’s the magic of gods and “soft magic systems”)

The thing about witches (and magic system as an extension) is that they are mortal. Majic is an immortal force of existence. To exist is to be just a bit of majic.

But witches are mortal and so they can die. And with them the system they upheld dies too. In some cases a similar system belonging to another witch may fill the void, but otherwise the system dies.

The likelihood of a witch dying is slim though. They are mortal, but they are also ageless, as by the rules of the chaos at the ends of existence. Where things like time and scale and gravity don’t behave as they should. From where you can watch the countless ends and existences die and begin again in universes uncountable. As gods and giants and cosmic dragons forge worlds and multiverses of their own volition. And elder things play games and battle over the scraps and threads of thier own universes that they wish to forge into new existences. Doing anything they can to prevent existences from falling into the place that witches live.

Speaking of dragons and elder things: witches follow dragons, because cosmic dragons are especially good at destruction and creation. (Chaos incarnate, along with their siblings who are Order incarnate) So if a witch wishes to place her magic system in a particular place she will give it to a dragon who will go to a world and from there spread life and magic that they carry to that world.

Elder things know, they tend to have lived through the birth and rebirth of several universes. So they are especially good at learning and unknowning. They are usually the ones responsible for changing the ways a system interacts with the world around it.

A Witches counterpart is a Muse, witches write the rules of magic, Muses write the paths of things.

[arowyn-m]

It just occurred to me I don’t post about it on here because I am essentially an Arcane blog at this point but in case y’all are interested I do have a fantasy action webtoon called Syrenics—it is my pride and joy so if you like scary sea monsters and complex magic systems give it a read! :3

(Depictions of blood/frightening images below cut)

[briannapuppet]

Spiritual experiences

I saw a trans person posting on reddit about starting to hear voices and obtrusive visions, and I thought, "Damn, it's a shame you functionally can't say anything on a mainstream forum except 'Get your ass to a psychiatrist and medicate that shit.'"

Of course the person should get to a psychiatrist, because a few visits with an out-of-network doc and a prescription for an as-needed antipsychotic are far cheaper than a grippy socks vacation. But that's not the full story.

I was scared to go to a psychiatrist and be honest with them about my experiences. I know that many psychiatrists think all magical thinking or obtrusive thoughts are a sign of schizophrenia and thus should be medicated for life, and I know that psychiatrists can and will involuntarily commit people.

I ended up with just such a psychiatrist. She was a Yale-educated buffoon and a covert anti-trans activist. She claimed to be an expert on trans care, but she had no knowledge of trans HRT. She constantly jotted down notes, but failed to note basic chart info, like "these are the meds I'm on" or "please refill my antidepressants." The entire clinical experience was a gaslighting campaign.

I realized I had the right to a second opinion. I found someone who was open to talking about spiritual experiences, and now I can live my life authentically and I have an as-needed I can use to calm my head down.

It's important for me to have these experiences, because the process of interacting with them generally leads to better results in my normal life.

For example, if I'm trying to deny that part of my life - my dreams, my imagination, and my spooky waking experiences - I just have this aura of dishonesty that makes it really hard to hold my ground professionally. If I'm constantly focused on how I should feel rather than how I do feel, I'm checked out of my own authentic opinions.

I also feel like I stand apart from most spiritual people in that I'm into hard fantasy. Like, I'm so into Brandon Sanderson that I pretty much subject my spiritual beliefs to the rules of the Cosmere:

Souls exist

We have free will

Relativity and quantum mechanics are real

Time travel doesn't exist

Alternate timelines/"frequencies"/"dimensions" don't exist

Even mystical energy from God obeys its own laws of physics

Everyone who presents themself to you as a spirit or god is, at some level, just a person

So, for example, I find it really hard to believe that spirits/gods/etc exist outside of space and time. If they are, then what is outside of space and time? Is it in anyway like time and space? If not, then what rules does it obey? This just doesn't add up. It's just a not-very-thoughtful person filling in the blanks with a nebulous substrate of wish-fulfillment. It's the type of spirituality that advertising, rape-y gurus and The Walt Disney Company encourages us to have.

So, when I reach out to demons or spirits or whatever, I imagine that they're basically alien social workers. I don't know if they're extradimensional or hidden, but I assume that they have some kind of definite existence. This has the added bonus that it might be possible to meet them, which would be fun, because they probably have way better parties than us.

[clever-naming-convention]

Hard magics systems make me miserable unfortunate I’m a masochist when it come sit world building.

Google open the wiki page for alchemy

[bravegrumpy]

These ancient Tablozetziums are.... interesting. It seems like they have some communication abilites, but not a ton of information storage. I went to the Quartano Farms Historical society and found some preserved Family Tablets.

One of the few files on one tablozetzium, seems to reference a Sam as either a best friend, servant, or lover. I cannot tell.

However, tablozetzium im holding also has some files about a willow, seemingly the same willow I found in a diary.

It would be wild if these two knew each other.

--Skylar Seacrest

[helenaheissner]

A Dream of Summer Rain: When You Look Back at Your Wasted Life (chapter 18)

Hello, lovelies! Don't forget you can read twenty chapters ahead on this story, as well as two chapters ahead on back "Love During Robot Fighting Time" and "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber to my Patreon or my Substack!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled emotional devastation and abject nightmare fuel!

***

Lacy wanted to run, but Gwen was paralyzed once again. “GWEN COME ON!” she screamed, but her mentor did not budge. “GODDAMMIT!”

A portal to burst through the air, out of which Isabella stepped. Isabella started, “What’s-”

“Gwen!” Lacy said, pointing. 

Isabella obliged, carved a portal, and dragged Gwen and Lacy through alongside her. 

The building finished imploding as they escaped. Lacy covered her ears at the swell of noise, and looked around to see it was happening to the entire school. Each of the buildings, imploding simultaneously. The boys ran towards them from the sea of wreckage. A sulfur smell tainted the air, and when Lacy jerked her head around to the source, she saw the building she was just in had been reduced to dust. And Alistair Albrecht emerged from that dust yet unscathed. 

“Can you get me close to him? Behind him, maybe?” Lacy asked Isabella. 

She nodded, and she obliged. Lacy couldn’t use too much more lightning today- her arms felt like she’d deadlifted a hundred pounds, her legs like she’d ran four miles at breakneck speed- but she could manage at least one more, and if she could get in a clean hit-

The sensation of passing through a portal, like running over a carpet in wool socks during a dry winter supercharged by a nuclear power plant, engulfed her before she could realize it was happening, and it was over before she could process it. They emerged directly behind Alistair, and Lacy readied her lightning. She aimed, fired: direct hit, square in the small of the back. Alistair fell to the ground, face first, its cloak shredded and burnt at the back, its flesh turning sallow. For a moment, Lacy breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. She looked at Isabella, whose hand she realized she was still holding tight. Isabella was looking at her with an expression Lacy couldn’t read.

A chuckle came up from the ground, and Alistair, face decaying and contorting, coated in ashes, turned over and beamed at her. “Impressive! Perhaps I’ve misjudged you, boy!”

“I keep telling you, I’m a GIRL!” Lacy screamed. Her Star pulsed, and the wind rose around her. She lashed a thunderbolt to Alistair and let the soundwave disorient the king, dragging out the low bass tone that seemed to upset ghouls so much. She looked at Isabella, pulled her hand away and gestured at the King of the Ghouls. “Waiting for an invitation?”

Isabella blinked, nodded, swung her sword towards Alistair’s neck, only for Alistair to roar at the sky and burn bright with orange fire on all-sides. Isabella carved a portal before she could crash into Alistair’s pyre, appearing behind Lacy and then grabbing her and pulling her back in. They appeared next to Gwen and the boys a hundred yards from the erstwhile school as Alistair’s firestorm howled ever-louder. Quentin and Joshua both dug in their feet and held out their hands, keeping the inferno caged. Gwen, still shaking, joined them. Danny stood there, wide-eyed with yet another inscrutable facial expression. 

Lacy planted her feet and tried to push back against the fire. The backlash sent her flying back a dozen yards. She rolled over the ground and stopped just short of crashing into a tree. Every muscle in her body cried out in protest as she tried to get up and offered a small burst of relief as she fell back to the ground. Get up get up get up getupgetupgetupgetup-

She pressed her hands against the ground, but couldn’t support her own weight: her arms no longer responded. She rolled over onto her back, attempted to do a sit-up, only to fall back down midway through the attempt. 

Getupgetupgetupgetup-

“Lacy, there’s a certain wisdom to knowing when you can’t fight anymore,” Drew said. 

“Shut! Up!” Lacy screamed. Out loud. 

Only Danny seemed to notice. The others were holding back the firewall. He rushed over and offered Lacy a hand, helping her rise to her feet. She accepted, and immediately fell back to the ground once she was up. The lightness in her head exploded through the rest of her body, and consciousness slipped away soon thereafter. 

***

The firewall stood strong, and Gwen gritted her teeth as she dug her feet into the ground. Lacy was out cold, and Danny’s usefulness was limited now that Alistair had shown up. That left four of them. Gwen reached for Starlight, and another dangerous idea occurred to her. 

Her father had always been the sort of instructor to teach by example. 

“Cover me,” Gwen said. The others nodded, and then were pushed backwards several feet by Gwen’s departure from the firewall resistance. 

She ducked backwards, then darted over to where Lacy lay unconscious. Danny held his gun and his knife at the ready, prepared to defend his friend with even the most basic of tools if it came to it. A good kid- if they survived this, she’d have the others start teaching him to use a sword. “I need to borrow her,” Gwen said. 

Danny acquiesced. 

She shook Lacy awake, the girl’s eyes dilating as she was dragged back into the conscious realm. “Wzzuh?”

“Remember our little trick with the blood inside the dungeon?” Gwen said. 

Lacy nodded, eyes only half opened. 

“Think you can give me a jump-start for something similar?” Gwen said. “I don’t need much, just enough to override the water-resistance.”

Lacy gulped, then nodded. Gwen grabbed her hand, then reached for her Star and let the white light channel through. Sweat soaked through her clothes, and the cuts across her body throbbed as a small bead of blood floated out from it. 

“Blut meines Vaters,” Gwen said. 

Lacy promptly passed out again. A moment later, the firestorm petered out, leaving only the swaths of naked heat. Her father screamed, and Gwen’s eyes darted over to her father as blood gushed from the spot on his ankle where Lacy had bitten him. 

Perfect. 

A stream of blood poured from her father’s ankle. It was black and deadened, the blood of a ghoul. Her father was a ghoul- the King of the Ghouls. A monster. And I’m a goddamned monster hunter, Gwen thought, gritting her teeth she took aim. It was always going to come to this. She focused the blood pouring out from her father’s ankle and reforged it into a small ax, aimed for her father’s neck. It stopped short, and Gwen screamed as the wound between her ribs and her hip opened up and poured forth copious amounts of blood. 

“IMPRESSIVE!” her father called out. “I’m so proud of you, my girl! You’ve shown me something now I hadn’t considered before. Excellent work. It’s wonderful that I can now learn from you, just as you once learned from me.” The worst part was that he meant it: that was his sincere-voice. She hadn’t heard that since she was a kid.

Gwen’s side throbbed as blood leaked out and sharpened into a series of small daggers in front her face. Her blood-ax shattered, and she dropped onto one knee. Danny fired a gun, then another, then another. Quentin had done a good job outfitting the boy. The bullets flew through the air and stopped short of Alistair: his shield was still working. But it was weakening, and taking up evermore energy- the blood daggers shattered before Gwen’s eyes as her father struggled to focus his energy on his own protection. Of the two Stars swarming him, the purple one, the one she did not recognize, flew around him ever more frantic, bursting with ever more light. It must have been where this Entropy magic was coming from, and going by the expanding size of his fangs and claws, it took its toll on him. It must’ve worked on the same principle ghoulish physiology did, eating through his reserves of strength and forcing him into a more feral state the more he relied on it. And it had another effect: physical decay, distortion, mutation, rather than simple mental deterioration. 

A portal ruptured in the air behind Alistair, and both Isabella and Joshua jumped out and swung their respective swords while Gwen backtracked. Alistair weaved out of the way of both blades and swung his leg first into Isabella’s stomach and then afterwards into Joshua ribcage. They both were knocked to the ground, but a hail of bullets then tore through Alistair as Quentin produced an automatic pistol from his trenchcoat. The distance was too great for accurate headshots, but they slowed the King down. 

Gwen forced herself up. She reached for Starlight, knowing it was burning her. She needed to end this once and for all, and she needed to get in close to make it happen. 

She forced herself up, and then said to Danny, “Cover me.”

The boy nodded. 

Gwen proceeded to do exactly what she knew not to do in this situation: run directly at her opponent, screaming at the top of her lungs. Bullets weaved over and around her, and Isabella and Joshua portaled over to Lacy to get out of the line of fire. 

Her father balked, then laughed. And laughed. And laughed. It just pissed Gwen off even more. Her father was many things, and considered himself many more things. Chief among them was ‘honorable.’ That meant when someone did something like this, you showed them respect as a mage. “Toter engel!” Gwen screamed. White light exploded from her hand as she reached out for her father. 

Her father did the same, saying the same words, using the same spell, drawing on the light of two Stars. 

Their columns of white light met each other, and then engulfed everything. 

The weight of three colliding Destinies slammed into each other, puncturing the skin of reality and letting Liminal Void pour out into the world.

***

purchase the ebook here:

[incomingplottwist]

If this was set in the world of my wip Moira, healers would've decimated their opponent if worse came to worse. Their powers work on the principle that they must absorb energy to be able to give it to others and while the easiest way is flora (using fauna is frowned upon), environmental protection laws prevent them from causing mass destruction of natural ecology tho and sort of places a limit on their power. So it's pretty common for healers to maintain greenhouses or to have big gardens near archaic hospitals to circumvent these concerns. I could go on about illegal fight rings and the black market but I won't because well I'd be rambling for days and I- ok just wanna conclude that if a healer was in such a position, I'm pretty sure the opponents would get wrecked 🫡

but in general as well, healers are awesome and should not be underestimated!!! learning to heal also means learning to do the opposite if needed :)

You’re the healer of the group. The rest of the party has always treated you like you’re made of glass. You were content to stay out of their way and let them do their thing. Until they all got downed leaving you the only one standing. That’s when you show them how deadly healing magic can be.

[awriterwholikestoworldbuild]

I very suddenly realized that I’ve been pretty inactive since I made my blog (aside from reblogging random bs with no relation to the blog) so here goes nothing, this is a magic system I’m working on for dnd:

The entire magic system revolves around biology and the idea of modifying one’s biology. In my system all magic is either in a biological form or a mineral form, the latter only in rare exceptions and usually in the form of fossils, as an example, dragons have the innate ability to produce and project fire from a gland in their mouth but if a human wanted to do the same they would need to use that gland as an ingredient/instrument.

Through the meddling of a hyper advanced civilization 100 ordinary humans from earth are transported into a galaxy with this magic system to complete in a galaxy wide pseudo hunger games with the goal of surviving until the end of the event, each of the contestants is given the ability to gain the adaptations of any creature they kill ex: kill a creature with fur to gain fur. Contestants have the ability to modify their own attributes and choose which ones to use but the modification process is slow and painful leaving you vulnerable for the duration and consuming significant amounts of energy/food.

Due to the dnd format it is not a last one standing but instead the “spectators” can “modify the playing field” if they deem the contestants boring, this is as a means to add a reason to fight and a punishment for cheating or getting to powerful.

I am open to any suggestions or criticisms and would in fact love to be told how I can improve it.

Also just because I saw somewhere that you should be able to explain the basic premise of a magic system in a single sentence here is a tldr: some people can modify their own biology by killing things with the attributes they want.

[oh-wow-im-still-here]

I saw a post once talking about a bingqiu scott pilgrim au where LBH had to fight all of SQQ's suitors, which is a cool concept and all, but have you considered the comedic potential and insanity of a bingyuan Scott pilgrim au where SY has to defeat LITERALLY HUNDREDS of bingge's exes??

[nonasbirthday]

I still don't understand why Crux had to die for the tomb to be opened at the end of NTN. Wasn't the tomb already open? How could it have re-set to need John's blood again?

It sounds like Paul was somehow able to get some of Kiriona's blood despite her impenetrable skin ("Take all of it." "I don't need all of it - but I need to keep it wet..."). And that maybe they only needed "fresh thanergy" because Kiriona (and presumably her blood) is dead. Because Harrow didn't need to kill anybody the first time she went in, right?

But in HTN it's implied that Harrow entered the tomb multiple times and that it took her a while to dismantle the traps in each section. And she presumably didn't have Gideon's blood under her nails every time she went in (hard to say for sure, since the memory recounted to us has been edited to be Certified Griddle-Free). (And anyways, doesn't Pyrrha say in HTN that fresh blood is thalergenic, not thanergenic? So why would Gideon's blood being fresh meet the thanergy requirement?)

So I don't understand why the tomb wasn't just open for our little rescue crew to bust in, and if it had been re-locked, why Crux dying unlocked it. (Or how they got Gideon's blood, really, but for that one I'm willing to just accept the magic of "it happened offscreen.")

[bravegrumpy]

I find this conversation fascinating, as I use these devices in my own writing. For me, it is because I feel like my fiction is being broken if I assume my omnicient narrator is not diagetic. However, I also need to have a reason to explain world-building concepts to the reader that none of the characters would have any reason to think that hard about.

My solution is to have a historian tell the story, translating the story from an ancestor language to the "common" tongue of their time. I then hope that the reader is smart enough to connect that they are supposed to understand this "common" language, so its published as English.

I like the historian angle because it gives me sufficient opportunities to explain my magic system without resorting to played out tropes, such as "magic school" or "im going on an adventure to explore the world", or dry exposition. The historian angle also allows space for plot-holes or incosistencies due to gaps in primary source documents or competing perspectives.

This diagetic narrator approach also gives me the flexibility to write about the same events from an entirely different perspective later on.

"Why does this 19th Century novel have such a boring protagonist" well, for a lot of reasons, really, but one of the big ones is that you're possibly getting the protagonist and the narrator mixed up.

A lot of 19th Century literary critics had this weird hate-boner for omniscient narrators – stories would straight up get criticised as "unrealistic" on the grounds that it was unlikely anyone could have witnessed their events in the manner described, like some sort of proto-CinemaSins bullshit – so authors who didn't want to write their stories from the first-person perspective of one of the participating characters would often go to great lengths to contrive for there to be a Dude present to witness and narrate the story's events.

It's important to understand that the Dude is the viewpoint character, but not the protagonist. His function is to witness stuff, and he only directly participates in the narrative to the extent that's necessary to explain to the satisfaction of persnickety critics why he's present and how he got there. Giving him a personality would defeat the purpose!

(Though lowbrow fiction was unlikely to encounter such criticisms, the device of the elaborately justified diegetic narrator was often present there as well, and was sometimes parodied to great effect – for example, by having the story narrated by a very unlikely party, such as a sapient insect, or by a party whose continued presence is justified in increasingly comical ways.)

[spookygibberish]

I've sort of developed a strange relationship with the concept of "realism" in the things I make.

Something I was very into as like, an eleven year old (im not implying this was immature to be into, just that it was formative for me), was speculative biology specifically for dragons, and now, specifically in the case of dragons I find a lot of attempts to make them biologically plausible fully missing the appeal of dragons at all.

Thinking specifically about the supernatural elements of JoM and where the line is drawn. The dagnyds are made from the remains of godlike entities, and are not entirely earthly animals. They have a supernatural origin. It would be fully justified in giving them magic abilities or making magic an aspect of the setting, but have absolutely zero interest in doing so. It doesn't interest me. I think about shit like healing powers or glowy energy attacks and my reaction is just "what does this even add? Why do I need this? Does this make things more interesting?" And it simply doesn't. Healing is more interesting as a prolonged process, combat is more interesting with teeth and claws and metal and blood. These are options which are more realistic, closer to real life, but the realism isn't what makes them interesting: it's physicality.

When I design a creature for this world, I am not thinking about making it biologically plausible, and yet, I try to design things which look like they could 'move under their own power'. There is a sense of heft and mechanical "soundness" which I value more than realism, but often also aligns with looking 'realistic'.

I would say that it's better to serve a narrative than strive for absolute realism, but I don't actually write stories, although I do have ideas for them occasionally. I guess a version of this which is more relevant and applicable is that i prefer to strive for a particular vibe.

[hellspawnmotel]

terranigma, a cool game

[mamawasatesttube]

i have a confession. i just dont care about vampires. i wish i did because the aesthetics go hard as hell! but i always get stuck on the fact that blood tastes nasty and i cant figure out how they work when they dont have pulses because shouldnt they all succumb to rigor mortis and [insert way too much overthinking that is not the point and should be handwaved by magic and i know this and yet i still get bogged down in it]. i KNOW it's not the point but i can't get around it in my head. if i had a vampire girlfriend she would first of all not want my blood probably because im anemic and that would just be miserable for the both of us but also i would make her wash her mouth out before i could kiss her and i think that would probably just not be a lasting relationship. this is my ultimate confession as a gay person on the internet. my shame. i am sorry fellow gay people on the internet. i just think blood tastes nasty and i can't figure out how creatures without a pulse work. i start overthinking and then i feel insane and the entire time im like god blood tastes nasty too. i cant do it

[clever-naming-convention]

In (one of ) my worlds blood magic is the ONLY magic (kind of) you have to use your own blood to activate spells! You want to do fireball? cut your hand open! you want a shield? more blood please! You have to prepare your spells before hand too (which involves blood and also alchemy)

so wizard fight in my world is less “fuck you i cast smite” and more “with the tools I have at my disposal how can I defeat this guy without bleeding out?”

"Blood magic" as it exists in most generic fantasy settings is so boring and stupid. "ohhhh it's so evil because it needs blooood they're sacrificing virgins it's so inherently evilllll" like okay what if the blood is ethically obtained? What's the problem? "ohh but the magic itself is tainted and makes you evil plus they're wearing black robes" yeah and so is every edgy teenage warlock so what

to ME blood magic should be taboo because it's the ultimate dangerous magic. The normal mage has to throw a fuckoff huge fireball costing 100 magic points to kill another mage in a duel and even then 90% of the time the other mage throws up a simple barrier spell and blocks it.

BLOOD MAGIC is dangerous because a blood mage can just cast "scab level 1" for 2 magic points and now you've got a blood clot in your brain and you have a stroke. BOOM you've lost consciousness. A few minutes later? Permanent brain damage or death.

You think you're the shit? Can block any spell? No you can't because level 1 blood mage apprentice over here can give you a stroke from across the battlefield. You never saw it coming. There was no mega laser blast to deflect. The spell cost them 3 magic points because they cast it from 500 feet away. Instant. Silent. Deadly.

Give me blood magic that's taboo because it's the ultimate magic weapon!! Give me mages that need to hunt down blood mages whenever there's a whisper of them because they're so dangerous!

well then you ask, if they're so dangerous can't they kill all the mage hunters with a thought?

And that's where the wards against blood magic come in! Everyone has at least simple ones, and higher level mages will customize theirs to make them harder to get through.

Of course, that starts an arms race so now blood mages have to get through your wards before they can cast Instant Death.

Now, as anyone who's watched lockpicking lawyer knows, any lock can be picked given enough effort. And no mage wants to block themselves off from magic entirely, because then they can't teleport or fly or heal or make their eyes glow. So of course, a blood mage can get through a ward if they try.

BUT. If a blood mage is trying to get through your ward, right, you can feel them doing it! And that gives you a precious few seconds to FUCK YOU MEGA BOLT them. And that levels the playing field, makes it about who can work faster.

THAT'S the level of thought I want to see for blood magic. Not this "ohhh but they're cultists so of course they're evil and their magic is evil" lazy stuff.

[bravegrumpy]

Attichaos Archibald, aka Professor Arch writes in his personal notes reguarding the marketing of his invention, a tablet that allows everyday people to access color-magic.

This is the most legible fragment

I was lucky enough to grow up as a color-magic adept. It was unfortunate that my curly hair gave away my Siklandish birth.

Earlier in my life, I did not know why. I often needed to choose between a full stomach and my color magic.

Tests have concluded that low quality Linarian Queso has a hampering effect on inate magic abilities.

It is useful for feeding the masses. I believe that the low concentration of adepts meant that this was not of import.

But I can use this.... haper the effects of any adepts, so they just buy the BriteLite for their color needs.

--Professor Arch