Story Wits and Witchcraft: From the Satanic Citadel to the Forgotten Isles



Rapism cures Racism
Jan 2, 2022
Chapter 1: Unearthed

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The City of Korvosa lay shrouded in darkness, In the accursed sprawl of Korvosa, where the nefarious tendrils of Asmodeus unfurled in every shadowed corner, the city's enigmas lay entombed within a labyrinth of alleys as convoluted as the coils of a demonic serpent. The very cobblestones underfoot seemed to writhe in the umbral embrace of eldritch edifices, conspiring to disorient and beguile. Veiled by a funereal shroud of clouds, argent moonlight seeped through the ether to scribe eldritch glyphs upon the rain-slick stones below. Murmurs reverberated through the gelid night, spectral utterances woven into the air, as if Korvosa itself had forged a clandestine pact to guard its infernal mysteries with unwavering zeal.

I am Magon, an enigmatic silhouette etched against the tapestry of existence, a man whose raven tresses cascade like a midnight waterfall just shy of his shoulders. An aura of inscrutable mystique enshrouds me, ever elusive to the eyes that dare to probe the depths of my being. Curious gazes are drawn to me as if by some arcane gravity, yet ever they falter, confounded by the labyrinthine essence they sense but cannot unravel. My existence dances on the periphery of the mystical; I am both artisan and sage, forging spells into tangible marvels and translating the cryptic lexicon of the arcane for those audacious enough to seek my transcendent counsel.

Located in Pillar Hill—Korvosa's enclave for the socially undesirable, yet in convenient proximity to the affluence of the Gold Quarter—my magic shop serves as a haven of arcane refuge. Though the neighborhood may be seedy, my shop is far from obscure, standing as a well-known sanctuary against the prying eyes and judgements of the world beyond its welcoming doors.

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Inside, shelves teem with esoteric trinkets and powerful artifacts, each suffused with its own distinct aura. Scrolls and parchments, inscribed with ancient runes, lie in revered stillness, as if whispering in forgotten languages to those who have the ears to hear. In this space, situated within a stone's throw of Korvosa's economic heart yet within the confines of its most marginalized district, the very air vibrates with the untamed energies of hidden mysteries. Here, the dualities of high and low, arcane and mundane, are subsumed in the quest for otherworldly knowledge.

"Another late night, brother?" Point of No Return's voice broke through my thoughts as he entered the candlelit room, his muscular frame casting shadows on the walls.

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"Indeed," I replied, "I must finish this enchantment before tomorrow morning."

He studied the intricate runes etched upon the silver pendant in front of me, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "Your dedication never ceases to amaze me."

As my fingertips lightly grazed the surface of the artifact, a palpable energy surged up my arm, its vibrant oscillations interlacing with the very sinews of my being. This electricity, ethereal yet viscerally potent, threaded itself into the intricate tapestry of reality, as though stitching the corporeal and the arcane into a unified whole.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Point of No Return asked, concern etched on his face.

"Your offer is appreciated," I replied after a moment's pause, "but this is something I must accomplish alone. I appreciate your unwavering loyalty and support, brother."

He nodded and withdrew, leaving me to my work. As the hours passed, I became one with the enchantment, feeling the power of the runes as they settled into the pendant's core, binding it with an invisible leash of arcane energy.

As I finished the final stroke, a sense of satisfaction coursed through me, followed by a sudden wave of exhaustion. The weight of my responsibilities pressed upon me, yet beneath it all was a spark of determination, fueled by the knowledge that I had the power to shape the world around me.

"Are you finished?" Point of No Return asked softly, appearing in the doorway once more.

"Indeed," I responded, lifting the completed pendant from the table and admiring its newfound power.

"Then let us close up shop and retire for the night," he suggested, "for tomorrow brings new challenges and opportunities."

I nodded, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness. As we locked the door behind us, I couldn't help pay attention to the ever present beat of the drum and screams emanating from the nearby Cathedral to Amadeus as they are possessed as hymns are sung.

A biting wind swept through the narrow streets of Korvosa as I stood at the entrance of my magic shop. The city's oppressive gloom seemed to grow heavier with each passing day, and even the flickering lanterns that lined the cobblestones did little to drive away the shadows. My gaze fell on the intricate sign above the door, depicting a serpent coiled around an ancient tome, its scales shimmering iridescently in the scarce light.

"Another fine day at the market, brother?" Point of No Return quipped as he joined me outside, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd for potential customers.

"Indeed," I muttered, forcing a smile onto my face. "Let us hope it brings more fortune than misfortune."

As we opened our doors for business, the first customers began to trickle in – a varied assortment of curious individuals who marveled at the enchanted items displayed on the shelves and whispered furtively about their mysterious origins. Among them were those who sought my expertise for more personal matters, individuals plagued by ailments or misfortunes that only my unique talents could remedy.

"Ah, Magon the Enchanter," sneered a stout man with a disdainful smirk, his eyes narrowing at the sight of me. "I've heard much about you, but I must say, I never expected to see a Varisian among the esteemed magical practitioners of Korvosa."

"Prejudice has no place in the pursuit of knowledge," I replied coolly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "Every culture holds secrets worth exploring, and I am proud to carry on the traditions of my ancestors."

"Perhaps," the man conceded grudgingly, "but how can I trust that your work is not tainted by the superstitions and trickery of your people?"

"By witnessing the results firsthand," I answered, gesturing toward a silver pendant that lay on the table before me. It was a delicate piece, adorned with intricate runes that seemed to dance in the dim light, their meaning obscured by layers of arcane complexity.

"Observe," I commanded, my voice barely more than a whisper as I channeled a surge of magical energy into the pendant. The runes flared to life, casting an ethereal glow across the room, and the air around the pendant crackled with power. The man's eyes widened in awe, and even his sneer faltered in the face of such undeniable proof.

"By the gods," he murmured, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the pendant. "It's... it's incredible."

"Indeed," I replied, allowing myself a small smile of satisfaction. "And it is but one example of the many wonders that can be achieved through the melding of diverse magics."

As the man departed, clutching his newly enchanted item with reverence, I found myself reflecting on the challenges I faced as a Varisian in a city that often viewed me with suspicion and disdain. But for every disparaging remark or disdainful glance, there were those who recognized the value of my work – those who saw past the shadows of prejudice to the truth that lay beneath.

"Your work is truly exceptional, Magon," Point of No Return murmured as the last customer left the shop, his gaze lingering on the now-darkened pendant. "Never doubt your worth, brother. Your talents are undeniable, and together, we will overcome the darkness that threatens to consume us all."

"Thank you, brother," I whispered, my heart swelling with gratitude and determination. "We shall indeed stand strong against the shadows, guided by the light of our shared truth and purpose."

A chill wind whispered through the narrow streets of Korvosa, carrying with it the echoes of long-lost secrets and forgotten truths, as it wound its way through the twisting labyrinth of cobblestone and shadow. The city seemed to breathe around me, a living entity that pulsed with both darkness and light, concealing within its depths a myriad of hidden stories that were etched in the very stones themselves.

"Brother, do you ever wonder what secrets this city holds?" Point of No Return asked, his voice barely audible above the susurration of the wind. He stood beside me at the counter, polishing an enchanted dagger with care, his brow furrowed in concentration. Despite his youth, he had already developed a reputation for his prowess in battle, honing his skills with a dedication that bordered on obsession. I knew he would stand by my side no matter the cost, our bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by unshakable loyalty.

"Indeed, I do," I replied, my gaze drifting towards the window where the shadows danced like flickering flames. "Every corner of this city whispers of a hidden truth, waiting to be discovered."

"Speaking of secrets," intoned a voice redolent with sensuous allure from the doorway, "I believe we have a few of our own to share." Straizer glided in, every fluid motion echoing the celestial elegance of a 22-year-old siren with radiant blond tresses and a visage of ethereal Chellish beauty. Her aquatic-themed attire seemed to ripple in symphony with her graceful steps, as if the fabric itself was a liquid extension of her captivating essence. As inscrutably enchanting as she was breathtakingly gorgeous, Straizer had been both confidant and ally ever since our fates entwined in the shadowy labyrinths of Korvosa's underworld.


"Ah, Straizer," I greeted her warmly, my eyes lingering on the tantalizing curves of her form. "What brings you to our humble shop today?"

"Business, of course," she replied, a mischievous glint in their mesmerizing eyes. "But perhaps a little pleasure as well."

"Always a pleasure to see you, Straizer," Point of No Return chimed in with a grin, his eyes dancing at the prospect of their visit.

"Indeed," I agreed, my heart swelling with gratitude for the camaraderie that bound us together. "And who else accompanies you on this fine day?"

"Ah, Magon," declared a voice steeped in ageless wisdom and esoteric gravitas. Disturbed One materialized from the penumbral sanctuary, her silvered hair and dignified, androgynous aesthetics standing as a nuanced foil to Straizer's incandescent allure. A distinguished conjuration instructor at the Academy, she is revered for her lineage that traces back to the legendary wizard Seraphis Crux. In a city like Korvosa, where the arcane and the infernal dance in celebratory union, her ancestry—a covenant sealed with Geyon, the Serpent Ruler of Stygia's infernal depths—is not a mark of darkness but a heralded source of her power. Bound to me not merely as my esteemed mentor, but also as a vigilant guardian of my reputation, Disturbed One's relationship with me serves as a lustrous exemplar of the complex interplay of shadow and illumination that nuances our lives.


"Disturbed One," I nodded in acknowledgment, my respect for her hard-won over years of shared struggle.

"Finally, we have Disorder," Straizer gracefully continued, directing our gazes to the bewitching figure who glided into the shop, as if she were a wisp of shadow dissolving into the night's embrace. With her sun-kissed skin, lustrous brown locks, and striking countenance, Disorder's discerning eyes meticulously scanned the room, each glance a masterstroke of espionage. Initially dispatched to spy upon the elven community, she had, in a twist of fate, been utterly subverted by their ways, now embodying their grace and elegance more faithfully than her original Chelish heritage. Her keen insights into the arcane intricacies of magical artifacts have proven indispensable, her resourcefulness an invaluable asset in the convoluted tapestry of our endeavors.


"Disorder," I greeted her, my voice laced with admiration. "Always a welcome presence in our midst."

"Thank you, Magon," she replied, a sly smile playing upon her lips. "I couldn't resist joining this gathering of trusted allies."

"Indeed, we are all bound together by the secrets we share and the trust we have forged," I agreed, my thoughts turning to the challenges that lay ahead. Though the shadows of prejudice and injustice loomed large, I knew that with the steadfast support of those gathered here today, we would face them with courage and determination.

"Let us not dwell on the darkness that surrounds us," I suggested, a resolute fire burning within me. "Instead, let us celebrate the light of truth and camaraderie that binds us together. For in the end, it is not the shadows that define us, but the choices we make, and the bonds we forge."

"Here, here," echoed my allies, our voices rising as one to pierce the veil of darkness that lay heavy upon the city of Korvosa. And for a moment, the shadows retreated, banished by the unyielding light of our shared purpose.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets of Korvosa. Darkness crept in, a familiar companion to those who walked the city's narrow alleys and byways. Within my shop, the flickering candlelight danced upon the walls, casting an eerie glow upon the enchanting items and mystical symbols that adorned every surface.

"Ah, good evening, sir," I greeted a well-dressed gentleman as he entered my establishment. "How may I assist you today?"

"I seek an amulet that can ward off curses," the man replied, his eyes darting nervously about the room. "I have heard tales of your abilities, Magon the Enchanter. Can you help me?"

"Indeed, I can," I assured him, guiding him to a display of gleaming amulets. With practiced ease, I enchanted one of the pendants, weaving intricate patterns of protective energy around it, a skill honed through years of tireless study and practice. The man marveled at the display, awe and gratitude etched upon his face.

"Thank you, Magon," he whispered reverently, clutching the amulet to his chest. "You have alleviated my fears, and for that, you have my eternal gratitude."

"Your kind words are more than enough thanks," I responded humbly, watching as he departed, the weight of his worries visibly lifted from his shoulders.

"Next customer, please," I called out, smiling warmly at an elderly woman who approached me with a hesitant shuffle. Her gnarled hands clutched a cracked wand, and she explained her desire to repair and restore its power. As I worked my magic upon the wand, healing the fractures and reigniting its latent energies, I reveled in the knowledge that my skills had the ability to improve the lives of those who sought my aid.

"Thank you, young man," the woman said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You have given me hope when I thought all was lost."

"Your happiness is my reward," I replied, touched by her heartfelt gratitude.

However, not all who entered my shop bore such warmth and appreciation. One particularly disdainful customer cast a disparaging eye over my wares, his sneer evident even beneath his fine Chelish attire.

"Are you certain your...Varisian enchantments can be trusted?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "I've heard rumors that your kind is prone to deception and trickery."

"Sir, I assure you that my work is of the highest quality," I responded calmly, refusing to rise to his bait. "My Varisian heritage has no bearing on the magic I practice or the integrity of my character."

"Very well," he conceded begrudgingly, selecting an item from my collection. As I worked the enchantment, I felt his eyes scrutinizing my every move, searching for any hint of deceit or duplicity. Yet, as the magic took hold, his skepticism waned, replaced by reluctant admiration.

"Your reputation is well-earned, Magon," he admitted, handing over his payment with a stiff nod. "It seems even a Varisian can possess talent and skill."

"Thank you, sir," I replied graciously, allowing his prejudice to roll off me like water off a duck's back. For every ignorant soul who doubted my abilities, there were countless others whose lives I had enriched through my magic – and it was for them that I continued to strive for excellence in my craft.

As the door of my shop closed behind the last customer, a heavy silence settled within its confines. Exhaustion weighed upon me like a shroud, my muscles tensed and my mind plagued by doubts. I retreated to the solitude of my study, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced across the walls, mirroring the turmoil within me.

"Is my heritage truly so abhorrent that it overshadows all else?" I mused aloud, my voice barely more than a whisper. The darkness seemed to answer with a wordless, mocking laugh, chipping away at the fragile self-assurance I had managed to muster.

I clenched my fists, determination surging through me like a tidal wave. "No," I declared defiantly, my voice steady and resolute. "I refuse to allow their ignorance to define me. My worth is not determined by my blood, but by the good I bring into this world."

"Spoken like a true enchanter," came a familiar voice from the doorway. Disturbed One leaned against the frame, her greying hair framing her face in an almost ethereal halo. Our eyes met, and the depth of understanding I found in hers was like a balm to my wounded spirit.

"Disturbed One," I greeted her, a weak smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Your timing, as always, is impeccable."

"Ah, Magon," she said softly, crossing the room to stand before me. Her presence was a comforting constant in my life – a beacon of strength amidst the darkest of storms. "Their words may sting, but they do not change who you are or the power you possess. You are far greater than their petty prejudices."

"Thank you," I murmured, my chest tightening with gratitude for her unwavering support. "Your faith in me means more than I can express."

"Remember, Magon," she continued, her voice firm yet gentle. "You are not alone in this fight. Together, we will rise above the darkness that threatens to consume us and bring truth to the shadows that hide it."

"Indeed," I agreed, my resolve strengthened by her conviction. The shadows seemed to retreat ever so slightly, ceding ground to the light of our shared determination. "Together, we shall illuminate the hidden corners of this city and expose the lies that fester within."

Arm in arm, we stepped forth from my study, our spirits united in purpose and our hearts filled with the promise of a brighter future. For every whisper of doubt, there was a resounding chorus of courage and hope – and it was in these harmonies that we discovered our true power.

The door of my shop creaked open, and a gust of wind swept in, carrying with it the scent of rain-soaked cobblestones. I looked up from my work to see Disorder enter the dimly lit space, her eyes gleaming like emeralds in the shadows.

"Ah, Magon, just the man I was hoping to see," she said, her voice lilting with mischief. "I've brought you a puzzle to solve."

"Disorder, my dear friend," I replied with a grin, setting aside the intricate silver amulet I had been working on. "You always seem to find your way here when I'm knee-deep in enchantments. What have you got for me this time?"

Disorder approached the counter, her hands artfully concealed behind her back. With an elegant flourish befitting her elven grace,

Her brown hair shone like molten copper in the sunlight, it tumbles over her shoulders and down her back like a waterfall, her red sapphire eyes glisten in the candlelight of my workroom, where I had left the candle burning.

Her hands trembled in the shadows behind the artifact, hesitant to reveal it. The light of the setting sun moves across the inscribed surface, illuminating the scars in greens and blues.

The black was blacker than black, the metals were tarnished with a wear that denies the passage of time and the air around it shimmered with the singular focus of magic.

The artifact's surface is rough and irregular, covered in cramped characters that spell out secrets long hidden. The lines of its design are like an old and much-worn piece of parchment, its etchings carved in the shapes of symbols that have long lost meaning.

the relic gleams and glows in the dim light of my workroom, its surface pocked with scars from a thousand cauterized wounds.

It was forged in an age far beyond any historic record, the craftsmanship as alien to us as the stars in the sky. It was a smooth, black, mirror-like finish, but there were peculiar discolorations and blemishes that hinted of its age, like the wrinkles in the face of a venerable wizard.

"A challenge worthy of your expertise," Disorder archly replied, leaning in on the counter, her eyes gleaming with sly assurance. "It was an easy bet, knowing your proclivity for arcane riddles."

"Your faith elevates and humbles me in equal measure," I conceded, turning the artifact with reverence. "But it is time to awaken this relic's dormant voice."

As we jointly ventured into deciphering the intricacies of the elven artifact, a symbiotic resonance enveloped us. Our spoken thoughts wove a tapestry of mutual understanding, animating the dormant enchantment until it resonated with pulsating life.

"Exemplary craftsmanship, Magon," Disorder commended, her gaze aglow with profound respect. "Your mastery in enchantment is a continuous revelation."

"A sentiment that proves mutually beneficial," I riposted, buoyed by her accolade. "Let us now unlock the full spectrum of this artifact's potential."

As the waning light further seeped from the shop, the darkening air seemed to tighten around us, a palpable testament to the exigency of our shared quest. Yet in that very constriction, a knowing assurance: neither of us ventured alone into the encroaching shadows.

"Time for closing, is it?" Point of No Return’s voice sliced through the gathering quiet, his imposing form a living affirmation of our fraternal pact. "It feels like mere moments since we first unfurled this tableau of sorcery and intrigue."

"True," I nodded, my eyes transfixed by the artifact, now luminous with awakened magic. "But as night's shroud descends upon Korvosa, our search for verity must only deepen. Forthcoming trials will test our resolve to the core. My quest for justice shall remain unshaken."

"And my allegiance to you, unbreakable," Point of No Return intoned, his eyes a mirror to my unyielding spirit. "United, we shall traverse the impending abyss and ascend, triumphant."

As we sealed the magic shop against the engulfing darkness, our parting words hovered in the space, melding with the aroma of timeworn tomes and mystic incense. In the coming nocturnal hours, we would distill our strength, our valor, and our raison d'être, fortified to confront the awaiting tribulations—shoulder to shoulder.


Rapism cures Racism
Jan 2, 2022
Great read tbh, I liked how you added imagery with AI, it's a great idea.
I continued to work on it a couple more chapters I changed to fantasy names. The characters were introduced instead of non Chalauntly but with urgency as they came to hide Magon from the Hellknights
So far there's no one here

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