Arcanist Tales
“The tale never ends, until a hero conquers the demons. May science and will prevail.” *** Alistair Neon Percival. The True Apostle of the Luminiferous Aêther, The Reckless, The Defender of all Beings, Self proclaimed king of emotional blackmail, Reborn in the year 1980 NC. His goal? To be the strongest and attain all magical, scientific, and economical knowledge in the world! However, with the flames of war staining the vast world, soldiers bidding their family farewell, and kingdoms of the realm butting heads to see who has the biggest stick. Institutions on the rise, large and small, each competing for benefits while experimenting on the common populace in the name of science. This is the tales of the Alistair, the practitioner of all things Arcane and most especially. The Apostle Of Aether. Note: contains strong themes of violence, real world knowledge, and slightly opinionated narration.
The bar
In this torrent, rain cracked on pavement, and cloaked figures wandered into a bar. The signpost was soaked as water coursed over its edges, the letters hanging and flailing about.
The lead figure gripped the doorknob and twisted. It snapped off – the structure was rotten.
"I expected this from Aradric… Amilia, don't you just love your home?"
Amilia's face revealed itself in this blurred scenery; her eyes shone as damped black hair dripped. "There are many situations involving abandoned workplaces. For example, Antonio normally entrusted me to raid and collect 'fees.'"
"An age-old trick of breaking legs and smashing vases. How original." Alistair sprinted forward and kicked the entrance. "Was it like this?"
"A warning normally came first."
"Of course it does."