#war wizard

[dragonslaiyer]

first attack of the year lets get it

[justavulcan]

Backgrounds with Class: Wizard

Some classes and backgrounds mesh naturally, from a conceptual standpoint.  Soldier and Fighter, Entertainer and Bard, Sage and Wizard.  But backgrounds aren’t class-restricted, and so I wonder what it would look like if you paired every class with every background, even the ones that seem at odds, like Sage and Barbarian, or Outlander and Wizard.  So I thought about it, and this is what I came up with. Some character concepts for each class, and each Player’s Handbook background for each class.

Wizard

I think it’s pretty uncontroversial to say books are magic. Thoughts, feelings, stories, facts, and even images laid down on paper to be passed on without the author, to br read by anyone who chooses to do so.  And books aren’t unique; rune-stones, clay tablets, inscriptions in iron, pictograms incribed into cave walls and heiroglyphs on the walls of tombs are all much of the same, knowledge laid down to be taken up by the willing.  Wizards at their core are all about the gift of knowledge, and the application thereof.  To a wizard, magic might be an end to itself, a useful tool to accomplish other tasks, or a combination of the two, but it’s pursued in its own merits as an art and science- not a gift, but a labor to be undertaken and mastered. I’d encourage a new wizard to think about the direction of their studies, and see where that takes them. Why did you start studying magic? Under what circumstances?  Are they more of a reader or a writer- would they rather understand magic as it is laid down by others, or lay it down to be understood later?

The Acolyte Wizard is their temple’s record-keeper.  Every successful alloy for ductility, strength, and weight needs to be recorded, every scrap of iron and copper accounted for, every process and task to be recorded so it may be reproduced.  Surrounded by creation, they’re driven to create things of their own- not metalwork, but manuals for the layperson and instructional manuals to make this magic of creation accessible to all.  And when their temple’s work is written down, there’s a world’s worth more.

The Charlatan Wizard was taught the meanings of the tarot and tarokka young, to make ends meet faking up noble fortunes for star-eyed customers.  However, the cards tell a story of their own, and much of her free time is spent in card readings of her own, consulting a dog-eared book of interpretations as she goes and adding arcane marginalia where she can.  Now, she uses the cards as inspiration for her spells, pulling the magic from the theoretical into the real by sheer force of will.

The Criminal Wizard grew up in a country where kenku learning to read was a crime.  Naturally, some laws are meant to be broken, and curiosity has always been his greatest curse- the first book he read in full was a tome on handwriting, and from there his career as a forger took off.  Ravenous to learn about his new craft, he eventually stole an apprentice’s spellbook and has since become a novice wizard in his own right, supplementing mastery of handwriting and accent use with magic.

The Entertainer Wizard loved stories more than anything else as a child- those told and those read, it didn’t matter. There was a hunger in him for fiction, and the power to make people feel or believe things based only on the tales themselves.  Apprenticed to a wandering minstrel as a child and miserable with a lute, he took to books for the answer.  With their help, he taught himself how to captivate a crowd, sway the opinions of others, and even- someday- to make people think as he does.

The Folk Hero Wizard made her name with an act of trickery- namely deceiving a troupe of bandits menacing her hometown into avoiding her home with a display of modest magic and flashy swordplay.  For her brass she was given a ceremonial brass key for her town, and word of the exploit spread far and wide- not bad for a farmer’s daughter.  Now, she follows the spreading word to find work that might put some real experience- either with her magic or her aunt’s old sword- under her belt.

The Guild Artisan Wizard followed her apprenticeship in woodcarving with one in arcana, surprising nobody.  As her master was a crafter of staffs, wands, and rods for a nearby wizards’ union, she had an ‘in’, and as her familiarity was with the more physical tools of a wizard’s trade, she pursued wizardry by way of the order of scribes.  Now, her wand and spellbook are her pride and joy, both for their craftsmanship and their powers.

The Hermit Wizard spent a lot of time with his eyes on the stars before his sojourn into the wilderness.  In isolation in an abandoned border keep, he spent time throwing the diviner’s sticks, rolling knucklebones, and reading tea leaves until the signs showed it was time to leave.  Taking up with the first adventuring party to pass was admittedly not the wisest course of action, but the signs all said they were the ones to bring him where he needed to be to follow the whims of fate.

The Noble Wizard has been trained in the arcane arts her whole life- under the tutelage of the finest duelists that her parents could find.  Now, she’s a fine spell-duelist in her own right, in the classical defensive style.  Her talents are well-geared to keeping her safe, and she is as keen to put those skills to use winning duels as protecting her family’s serfs.

The Outlander Wizard was taught to interpret the winds of his home plane in all of their varying glories: the sirocco from the Plane of Fire, the boreal winds from the Frostfell, the movements of clouds safe and poison across the infinite sky of the Plane of Air.  He calls upon these forces in his own casting, to bring the winds with him wherever he wanders- and like a wind blowing hither and yon, he lays his head wherever he wishes, rambling far and wide.

The Sage Wizard learned his craft at the feet of his country’s spirit-talkers. Ryuko is home to nature spirits in every wild place, and they have insight that mortals lack.  Consulting with them is part science and part art, but a decade of training has enabled him to do all that must be done to understand their messages.  While he’s at home among bamboo scrolls of arcane lore and transcribed prophecies, the Tower of the Owl has always needed travelers to collect more prosaic wisdom, and it’s his turn to roam.

The Sailor Wizard is a veteran of many a naval battle in what remains of Shattered Arde- Eastwall and the Dragonhead Peninsula are always contesting over lengths of coastline there, and both sides train war-wizards to man their galleys.  Although the spread of gunpowder weaponry from the Scarred Lands is making their trade more and more dated, there is much to be gained from one who can set fire to an enemy ship or prevent their mages from doing the same.

The Soldier Wizard served in the armies of Jessar as a student, her scholarship funded by the understanding that she would head a corps of zombies to field in battle when she was ready.  In the meantime, she provided intelligence via familiar scouting and swept battlefields before and after engagements for magical traps or other preparations. However, after a glyph of warding wiped out her sweeper unit’s guards and her partner, she deserted, hiding her crime with a body from the field altered to look like her.

The Urchin Wizard has always known the value of gold- growing up poor and sick will do that.  Ever since he heard about the legendary Philosopher’s Stone and its ability to change anything into gold, he’s been fixated upon it, both as a solution to his and his family’s woes, but also as he learned more about it as a curiosity in and of itself.  Stolen books, consultancies paid with desperately stolen coin, and other cobbled-together pursuits of scholarship have fed this fixation, but only the road may tell him more.

[earlfeytea]

I was hoping to get this done by Friday, but instead you guys get a WIP~ It's Big Brother Grisha Varikov! Takes after their Mother more. 

 Colours aren't final. It's hard doing a pale family where one needs to look kinda dead!

[rkdvanguard]

Its been tough getting drawings out just for the sake of drawing, but ooooOOo I'm tryin'!

Dwarven War Wizard :V

[mangolilyart]

Irving Friedhelm, level 10 Bloodhunter/War Magic Wizard

Another one fighting demons in the Underdark.  He’s a nice guy once you look past his advocacy for torture and general disregard for most other life!

[illustratian]

War Wizard Variants

[brassikarts]

The Road to Moonglade

A/N: This was co-written with my spouse, who lacks a Tumblr.

________________________________________________________________

Edmund -- Something terrible afoot in Teldrassil -- Investigating -- Safe for now

That was it.  That was all she’d said.  A quick scrying had indicated what “terrible” meant, and Edmund had found himself doing something he hadn’t considered for a very long time.  He’d sent a message to Aaric, but that wasn’t it.  For all he was still angry at the elf, they had enough history to still talk occasionally.  No, instead he was buckling on a swordbelt and getting a soldier’s pack ready.  He was going to hate it, of course -- he’d hated it even when he was young and didn’t wake up with stiff joints -- but he was doing it anyway.  Without even scribbling a note for his colleagues, the wizard activated a token, and translocated from his workshop in Ulduar to the frozen peaks of Icecrown.

The cold hit him like a blow to the chest, forcing the air from his lungs.  Desperate gasping gave way to coughing gave way to shivering.  By the time he’d steadied himself enough to work a cantrip for warmth, he was no longer alone.

“You said you’d let me know when to be ready, brother, not that you would show up unannounced.”  Hugo was there, grey and solid as ever, the grip and pommel of his old warblade visible over one shoulder.  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait while I gather my things to-”

“We’re not fucking going to Ulduar,” the younger Valks snapped, brushing windblown, mousy hair from his face.  “Get whatever you need to go to war, but make sure to pack light.”

His dead sibling stared at him for a long moment.  “You’re wearing a sword.”  He pointed at the weapon with his chin.  “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Yes, I am.  I need to find someone, and I need you to keep both of us from dying.”

Hugo nodded.  “In that case, I’m ready to go now.  Let’s find your friend.”

Standing beside his taller, stronger, deader brother, Edmund looked up to the dark sky.  The stars were where he’d left them, so that much was good.  He made some mental adjustments, knowing the approximate difference between Darkshore and Northrend.  “Grab on, Hugh.  And be ready to fight as soon as we arrive, because it’s likely you’ll have to.”

“Of course.  What will I be fighting?”

“The Horde’s entire army, far as I can tell.”  He activated a second token, this one requiring more effort on his part as he had to provide the coordinate matrix as indicated by the stars at their precise spacetime destination.  “Going in three… two… one…”

***

Northrend’s cutting chill was replaced by a smothering heat and the stench of the scorched: plants, earth, even bodies.  Hugo was past the point where teleportation could nauseate him, but he recalled the stomach-turning effects from prior experience.  He quickly unlimbered his greatsword, moving with purpose toward the nearest humanoid shadow.  The Forsaken managed little more than a gasp of surprise before it was bisected with single downward stroke.

Edmund, however, was recovering from having vomited up the entirety of his stomach’s contents.  He, too, had drawn a weapon, but Hugo wasn’t certain that was a good idea.  His little brother was a decent war wizard, if only because he had experience and a keen knack for self-preservation, but he was not much of a swordsman.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the elder Valks said, “lead on.  Please make it quick, though, as I don’t-”

He cut off as the dark haze was parted by several large bodies, armoured and green.  With two quick steps he was between them and his brother, blade already in motion.  The nearest orc cried out, “Lok’taaaaaaughh!”  The battlecry faded to a gurgle as the heavy weapon sheared through his chest cavity from shoulder to opposite hip.

The second got his axe up in time to block the backswing, then brought his shield to bear on the follow-up, but that was where his luck ran out.  The unholy force of Hugo’s strike shattered the bones through the shield; a quick maneuver pressed the attack with a low thrust, passing entirely through the unfortunate soldier.  A blinding flash and crackling ozone indicated his brother had decided to handle the third.

Hugo turned to see Edmund as he never had before.  Something about the situation had pushed him to a place where he seemed detached from the generally kind man he’d always been.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the wizard said.  He closed his eyes, licked a finger and put it in the air as though divining the weather.  He jerked his head over one shoulder, hazarding a guess at the other wizard’s location.  “She’s this way.  Come on.”

They went.