He walked down the deep ravine ten thousand steps north of Calmo Village, a dark rift of stone cutting through the vibrant green hills. His senses prickled. There was something here...something dangerous.
His cautious eye caught sparks of light glinting within the ravine's shadows.
I’ve found you, beast, Jogid thought solemnly.
A sinuous shape slithered forth—a draconic serpent covered in shining golden scales that reflected the dying light. Venom dripped from curved fangs as the wyrm raised its crested head, slit-pupiled eyes fixing on Jogid.
“I know you can’t understand me, but your presence threatens this land’s tranquility.”
Jogid sank into a ready stance, green fire igniting in his palms.
The silver wyrm hissed, scales bristling. In a flash of argent, it lunged with jaws agape.
Jogid spawned a protective ward—yes, I’m becoming faster—deflecting venomous fangs aside. His left hand came up, traced a sigil, and sent a bolt of emerald fire toward the creature’s face. The magical flames splashed across opaline scales. Thrashing, the wyrm twisted around for another strike.
He leapt and landed a mighty blow along its flank. Yet his flaming fist glanced off hardened hide. Before Jogid could renew his assault, the wyrm's thick tail whipped around, slamming him back against unforgiving stone. The breath rushed from Jogid’s lungs. Vision blurred for a heartstopping instant.
Claws scrabbling, the wyrm barreled forward to crush its dazed prey. At the last second, the dragonfolk rolled aside as massive jaws crunched down where he had lain.
“I did not wish to unleash this power's full fury," Jogid gritted out. "But you leave me no choice!"
Green fire engulfed his form. Ancient runes blazed along his skin as Jogid grasped that profound power from deep within the land itself. With a roar, he flung crackling arcs of emerald lightning.
Howling cries echoed as the magical onslaught hammered the wyrm. Smoking, it crashed lifeless to the ravine floor. Jogid stood above it, chest heaving but eyes hard with duty fulfilled.
“Your death will be honored,” he whispered.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
It had been fifteen days since Master Kaito had left the village.
He will arrive tonight.
Jogid stood before the land that would contain his most important endeavor under the first light of the rising sun. Twenty megnacus guarduses were standing by, awaiting instructions.
He surveyed the plot with a keen eye, envisioning the great project. Though his Master’s words were brief, Jogid grasped the depth of vision and purpose behind them. He felt the readiness in the soil, the ripeness of the timing.
With a solemn air, Jogid knelt and performed the appraisal spell, green sparks dancing from his fingers into the earth. The soil was healthy, vibrant—it would support and withstand their efforts here. Jogid nodded, satisfied.
“Scutus!” his voice rang out in the crisp morning air. With military precision, the one entrusted to oversee the operation detached himself from the regiment of armored beetles and presented himself to Jogid.
“Commence ground preparation operations in the western acres,” Jogid instructed. The Megnacuses saluted in unison and began marching toward their designated area, various tools and implements clicking neatly into place.
As the beetles set to work tilling and turning over the dark, loamy soil, Jogid kept his watchful eye over them. Though they followed orders with dedication, care must be taken that they not overexert themselves. What would his Master say, were he to allow such faithful servants to come to harm?
“Company A, attend to hydration and relief,” Jogid directed, as the morning wore on into midday heat. He continued moving among the troops, correcting formations when necessary, checking on supplies and progress. By day’s end, satisfactory headway had been made.
Gazing at the by-now orderly cleared and leveled site, Jogid allowed himself a small smile. The Great Project was well underway, guided by his Master’s vision. He need only oversee diligently, as was his duty and honor.
“We’re done for the day,” he declared.
Then shared a midday reprieve with the Megnacus troops. Though discipline was important, bonds of loyalty and friendship were equally vital.
“Company B, to the training yard,” Jogid commanded. As focused as a pack of direwolves tracking their prey, a battalion of beetle soldiers formed neat ranks in a nearby makeshift magical arena. At Jogid’s signal, they began flowing through drill formations—spins, kicks, magical enhancements rippling down claws and armor. Jogid joined them, his own movements synchronizing flawlessly as he led them through the flowing patterns.
We’re getting better. But are they ready for this?
Green sparks once more danced from Jogid’s fingers, wreathing his arms in magical energy that propelled lightning-fast strikes. The Megnacus responded by reinforcing their defenses, ethereal shields shimmering over their carapaces. Back and forth they pressed the attack, Jogid with a smile on his face at their progress. Not just soldiers, but mages as well - worthy defenders of the land.
Astounding! My Earth IDM, once nascent and overshadowed by my primarily alignment with Fire, is now blossoming into a force of its own. Its complexity is akin to Tier 3, Level 2.
My magic is now more inline with the megnac warrior’s geometric patterns and ritual timings that transcended the standard conversion efficiency formulae. But it’s not enough…my Earth rituals require a deeper synchronization to achieve perfect harmony.
My training is not over.
As the sun passed its height, Jogid ended the training session, reminding the Megnacus to properly cool their carapaces before returning to work. With clicks and salutes of acknowledgment, the beetles dispersed to tend to hydration and recovery. Meanwhile, Terga approached him.
Jogid perked up at the sight of the Meganc species magic instructor.
“Master Jogid, how have you found the adaptation from your primary Fire alignment?”
“Challenging, yet enlightening. I’m learning to attune my rituals more closely with the lunar phases and the alignment of dimensions for optimal conversion efficiency,” Jogid replied.
“A wise approach. Remember, each dimension resonates differently. Have you noticed any shifts in your spellcasting since this transition?” asked Terga.
Jogid took a moment before responding. “Yes, the spells are more grounded, and their effects seem to last longer, intertwining with the environment. But I’m also experimenting with combining Earth with my residual Fire alignment for hybrid effects.”
Terga nodded thoughtfully. “Fascinating! Well, I won’t take any more of your time today. May the suns serve you.”
Jogid made his way toward Master Kaito’s quiet home on the hillside, neatly avoiding the wildflowers and grasses that grew in vibrant abundance. Everything must be in readiness for his Master’s return from his sojourn abroad.
With meticulous care, Jogid cleaned and organized the living space, ensuring Master Kaito’s baking supplies were arranged just so. As he worked, Jogid pondered his Master’s teachings on finding enlightenment through mundane tasks. Truly, maintaining this space provided valuable insight. The simple acts of dusting, folding, sweeping held hidden depths, if one cared to look.
Satisfied with his efforts, Jogid neatly recorded the tasks in his journal. Another day of duty completed, in service of Master Kaito’s vision. The Great Work continued apace.
One thing left to ensure Master Kaito is well received.
Jogid made his way into the village. Though the Great Project demanded much, community bonds should not be neglected.
Jogid stepped through the rounded door of the Soft Waffle Tavern, nodding in greeting to the proprietor.
“Greetings, sir. How may I be of service?” Jogid asked. His keen gaze swept over the premises, noting the crooked sign, trailing ivy vines, and sauce stain on the floor.
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, lad,” Mister Finn chuckled. Nevertheless, he could not hide his wince as he knelt to scrub at the stubborn stain.
Tsking, Jogid strode over. “Please, allow me.” Gathering his will, Jogid traced a quick glyph. The stain vaporized in a poof of green sparks.
“There, much better,” Jogid declared. “Now for the rest.”
With efficient motions, Jogid neatened trailing vines, straightened picture frames and the crooked sign. Finn blinked in surprise at the now spotless tavern.
“Thanks a bunch for your help today, Jogid. And for humoring my little request yesterday,” Old Finn said, clapping him on the back.
“Are we ready for tonight?”
“Yes we are, thanks to you.”
“Good. Now we wait.”
He walked down the deep ravine ten thousand steps north of Calmo Village, a dark rift of stone cutting through the vibrant green hills. His senses prickled. There was something here...something dangerous.
His cautious eye caught sparks of light glinting within the ravine's shadows.
I’ve found you, beast, Jogid thought solemnly.
A sinuous shape slithered forth—a draconic serpent covered in shining golden scales that reflected the dying light. Venom dripped from curved fangs as the wyrm raised its crested head, slit-pupiled eyes fixing on Jogid.
“I know you can’t understand me, but your presence threatens this land’s tranquility.”
Jogid sank into a ready stance, green fire igniting in his palms.
The silver wyrm hissed, scales bristling. In a flash of argent, it lunged with jaws agape.
Jogid spawned a protective ward—yes, I’m becoming faster—deflecting venomous fangs aside. His left hand came up, traced a sigil, and sent a bolt of emerald fire toward the creature’s face. The magical flames splashed across opaline scales. Thrashing, the wyrm twisted around for another strike.
He leapt and landed a mighty blow along its flank. Yet his flaming fist glanced off hardened hide. Before Jogid could renew his assault, the wyrm's thick tail whipped around, slamming him back against unforgiving stone. The breath rushed from Jogid’s lungs. Vision blurred for a heartstopping instant.
Claws scrabbling, the wyrm barreled forward to crush its dazed prey. At the last second, the dragonfolk rolled aside as massive jaws crunched down where he had lain.
“I did not wish to unleash this power's full fury," Jogid gritted out. "But you leave me no choice!"
Green fire engulfed his form. Ancient runes blazed along his skin as Jogid grasped that profound power from deep within the land itself. With a roar, he flung crackling arcs of emerald lightning.
Howling cries echoed as the magical onslaught hammered the wyrm. Smoking, it crashed lifeless to the ravine floor. Jogid stood above it, chest heaving but eyes hard with duty fulfilled.
“Your death will be honored,” he whispered.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
It had been fifteen days since Master Kaito had left the village.
He will arrive tonight.
Jogid stood before the land that would contain his most important endeavor under the first light of the rising sun. Twenty megnacus guarduses were standing by, awaiting instructions.
He surveyed the plot with a keen eye, envisioning the great project. Though his Master’s words were brief, Jogid grasped the depth of vision and purpose behind them. He felt the readiness in the soil, the ripeness of the timing.
With a solemn air, Jogid knelt and performed the appraisal spell, green sparks dancing from his fingers into the earth. The soil was healthy, vibrant—it would support and withstand their efforts here. Jogid nodded, satisfied.
“Scutus!” his voice rang out in the crisp morning air. With military precision, the one entrusted to oversee the operation detached himself from the regiment of armored beetles and presented himself to Jogid.
“Commence ground preparation operations in the western acres,” Jogid instructed. The Megnacuses saluted in unison and began marching toward their designated area, various tools and implements clicking neatly into place.
As the beetles set to work tilling and turning over the dark, loamy soil, Jogid kept his watchful eye over them. Though they followed orders with dedication, care must be taken that they not overexert themselves. What would his Master say, were he to allow such faithful servants to come to harm?
“Company A, attend to hydration and relief,” Jogid directed, as the morning wore on into midday heat. He continued moving among the troops, correcting formations when necessary, checking on supplies and progress. By day’s end, satisfactory headway had been made.
Gazing at the by-now orderly cleared and leveled site, Jogid allowed himself a small smile. The Great Project was well underway, guided by his Master’s vision. He need only oversee diligently, as was his duty and honor.
“We’re done for the day,” he declared.
Then shared a midday reprieve with the Megnacus troops. Though discipline was important, bonds of loyalty and friendship were equally vital.
“Company B, to the training yard,” Jogid commanded. As focused as a pack of direwolves tracking their prey, a battalion of beetle soldiers formed neat ranks in a nearby makeshift magical arena. At Jogid’s signal, they began flowing through drill formations—spins, kicks, magical enhancements rippling down claws and armor. Jogid joined them, his own movements synchronizing flawlessly as he led them through the flowing patterns.
We’re getting better. But are they ready for this?
Green sparks once more danced from Jogid’s fingers, wreathing his arms in magical energy that propelled lightning-fast strikes. The Megnacus responded by reinforcing their defenses, ethereal shields shimmering over their carapaces. Back and forth they pressed the attack, Jogid with a smile on his face at their progress. Not just soldiers, but mages as well - worthy defenders of the land.
Astounding! My Earth IDM, once nascent and overshadowed by my primarily alignment with Fire, is now blossoming into a force of its own. Its complexity is akin to Tier 3, Level 2.
My magic is now more inline with the megnac warrior’s geometric patterns and ritual timings that transcended the standard conversion efficiency formulae. But it’s not enough…my Earth rituals require a deeper synchronization to achieve perfect harmony.
My training is not over.
As the sun passed its height, Jogid ended the training session, reminding the Megnacus to properly cool their carapaces before returning to work. With clicks and salutes of acknowledgment, the beetles dispersed to tend to hydration and recovery. Meanwhile, Terga approached him.
Jogid perked up at the sight of the Meganc species magic instructor.
“Master Jogid, how have you found the adaptation from your primary Fire alignment?”
“Challenging, yet enlightening. I’m learning to attune my rituals more closely with the lunar phases and the alignment of dimensions for optimal conversion efficiency,” Jogid replied.
“A wise approach. Remember, each dimension resonates differently. Have you noticed any shifts in your spellcasting since this transition?” asked Terga.
Jogid took a moment before responding. “Yes, the spells are more grounded, and their effects seem to last longer, intertwining with the environment. But I’m also experimenting with combining Earth with my residual Fire alignment for hybrid effects.”
Terga nodded thoughtfully. “Fascinating! Well, I won’t take any more of your time today. May the suns serve you.”
Jogid made his way toward Master Kaito’s quiet home on the hillside, neatly avoiding the wildflowers and grasses that grew in vibrant abundance. Everything must be in readiness for his Master’s return from his sojourn abroad.
With meticulous care, Jogid cleaned and organized the living space, ensuring Master Kaito’s baking supplies were arranged just so. As he worked, Jogid pondered his Master’s teachings on finding enlightenment through mundane tasks. Truly, maintaining this space provided valuable insight. The simple acts of dusting, folding, sweeping held hidden depths, if one cared to look.
Satisfied with his efforts, Jogid neatly recorded the tasks in his journal. Another day of duty completed, in service of Master Kaito’s vision. The Great Work continued apace.
One thing left to ensure Master Kaito is well received.
Jogid made his way into the village. Though the Great Project demanded much, community bonds should not be neglected.
Jogid stepped through the rounded door of the Soft Waffle Tavern, nodding in greeting to the proprietor.
“Greetings, sir. How may I be of service?” Jogid asked. His keen gaze swept over the premises, noting the crooked sign, trailing ivy vines, and sauce stain on the floor.
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, lad,” Mister Finn chuckled. Nevertheless, he could not hide his wince as he knelt to scrub at the stubborn stain.
Tsking, Jogid strode over. “Please, allow me.” Gathering his will, Jogid traced a quick glyph. The stain vaporized in a poof of green sparks.
“There, much better,” Jogid declared. “Now for the rest.”
With efficient motions, Jogid neatened trailing vines, straightened picture frames and the crooked sign. Finn blinked in surprise at the now spotless tavern.
“Thanks a bunch for your help today, Jogid. And for humoring my little request yesterday,” Old Finn said, clapping him on the back.
“Are we ready for tonight?”
“Yes we are, thanks to you.”
“Good. Now we wait.”
