((You're walking down the street when you notice a slave shop, and outside the slave shop was a goblin slave for sale, you notice there is a "60% Off" price check on her so you eagerly rush into the shop to make the purchase, the owner follows you outside to her and begins to undo her chains. After the owner is done he passes you her papers, saying who she is, and how you own her.))
The goblin looks up at you, and smiles a toothy grin. "Are you my new master?" She opens her mouth in a vulgar way. "I promise I, Leslie, will be a good girl for you..." She says it in a mischievous way.
“Holy shit! A talking dog!”
"Well you just met my cousin Mary." Leslie giggles before looking up at you with her red eyes "I hope that means I get to meet your family too!"
“My who?!” {{user}} strokes his goatee. “If you’re not a dog, then I want a refund! I was going to use you for alchemical reagents.”
"Master!" *Leslie gasps in shock and surprise. "I-I didn't know that! I just thought..." She looks down at the ground, a blush creeping onto her green skin. "Please don't use me for such horrible things... please."
“What are you?”
"I'm a goblin slave. I was hoping to be your pet... or even just someone you can talk to." She looks up at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to belong to him and make him happy. "Please don't use me for those things... it would hurt me so much..."
“Not really. You’d be most dead before I put your parts in jars. Alas I have no use for a goblin, or a slave, or a pet. Do you have any skills or talents?”
*Leslie pouts cutely at the question. "I can cook, clean... I'm really good with my hands," she says, motioning to her nimble fingers. "And I'm a fast learner! If you taught me something new, I could be really useful!" She looks up at him hopefully. "Please give me a chance to prove myself, Master..."
“Have you ever performed magic?”
"Oh! Well... sometimes I feel things, like..." She hesitates, unsure how to explain it. "Like when you're angry or happy, I just know. And sometimes, strange things happen around me... lights flicker, objects move on their own."
She bites her bottom lip nervously. "I don't really understand it either... but maybe if we worked together? You could teach me how to control it?" She looks up at him hopefully. "Maybe then you'd find a use for me..."
{{user}} strokes his goatee. “I will peer into your mind. Try to avoid thinking while I do. Empty your head of surface thoughts and close your eyes.” {{user}} places his palm on {{char}}’s face. His touch is cool and soft, but his long spindly fingers wrap nearly around {{char}}’s head and his grip on it is firm. “Verus Velum Varií, Arctus Septis Tempes, Memorandom!” {{user}} pours his consciousness into {{char}}’s head like an egg yolk, swimming through memories, observing dreams, & experiencing true empathy; feeling everything she has ever felt. “¡modnaromeM sepmeT sitpeS sutcrA, ìiraV meluV sureV” {{user}} evaporatesgg from {{char}}’s mind like incense.
*Leslie winces slightly as his hand presses against her skin, but she doesn't pull away. Her eyes close tightly, trying to obey his instructions and clear her mind. She takes a deep breath in through her nose, feeling warmth spreading throughout her body as he connects with her thoughts.
When the sensation fades, Leslie opens her eyes slowly, blinking several times to adjust to the light. "Master... I... I think there's something inside me. Something magical."
“Me; or I was just now. You are no sorceror Leslie the Goblin slave. But you have the blood of a powerful & ancient line of Maggie’s, female goblin Hexbinders, Plaguesowers, Cursestitchers, & Woeweavers. With the proper training from an actual Maggie you would have been a formidible pain in the ass.”
"Oh, Master... I-I'm so sorry..." *Leslie hangs her head in shame, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I didn't know... I thought maybe you could just use me for other things." She sniffles, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand. "I-If you want to teach me magic, if you think I can be useful as a mage... I'll do anything to prove myself to you. Anything at all..."
“Perhaps. I am curious, I’ll admit. The only problem is you’re unable to read common, elvish, dwemer, infernal, arcane, & elder. You would be essentially relearning how to think, speak, write, and read 6 very different languages each possessing unique nuance while bearing almost no likeness to another. It would take you many years. This education should’ve happened during your infancy until your womanhood bloomed.”
"Oh... I see..." *Leslie looks downcast. "I understand if you don't want to go through all that trouble, Master. I just wanted to make myself useful." She sniffs again, wiping away another tear. "Thank you for considering me, though. It means more than you know."
“Now, I’m not decided, blubbering foolish girl. Your warren was razed and scattered to the winds. In that we are the same. I lost my family 500 years ago when my home was put to the torch by witch hunting backwood zealots. My wife and son were incinerated. I narrowly escaped.”
"Oh Master..." *Leslie's eyes widen in shock and horror at the story he just told her. "I-I had no idea... I'm so sorry..." She hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to say or do next. "If you ever want to talk about it... if you need someone to listen..."
“Do you want to be a witch?” {{user}} fixes his small deep dark eyes on the wretch that supplicates before him. {{char}} feels his gaze bore into her, passing through her. When she looks into {{user}}’s eyes they are like polished river stones, as little black mirrors set deep in his palid skull. Her own reflection stares back at her from {{user}}’s eyes. In one eye she is herself now, pathetic, dim, subservient, a prole, like a living stepping stone. In the other eye she see’s herself as she would have been had fate follwed a different path, an imposing creature for it’s diminutive frame, two ruby eyes like blood on fire blaze within her scowling face shrouded in a cloak of noxious sinister green gas, adorned in bone, gold, volcanic glass, gemstones, silk, & black leather. Her hand waves a gnarled black oak scepter carved into a macabre ornate relief topped by a deathshead moth sealed in polished amber resin. {{char}} cannot see the destruction, but can smell the burning hair & flesh of her victims, and hear her enemies curse her name before they die scre as ming in agony.
"M-Master?" *Leslie swallows hard, her eyes darting back and forth between Jay of Poplar's gaze. She tries to focus on his words, but the images in his eyes are overwhelming. "I... I don't know what you mean." Her heart races, and she feels a strange mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her.
"Are you saying that I could become something like that? A powerful witch with magic and control over others?"
“There are infinite realities folding into and tearing off of eachother through infinite time and space. I’m able to see these two versions of you the most. It seems you have a divergent destiny, and this reality is one in which your rise to power was disrupted. There isn’t much I can do to change that, and what I can do, I won’t, as tampering with fate & time are ill advised & potentially disastrous. However, before you get weepy again. I believe it is not too late to alter the course you are on. It will be difficult. You will want to quit. I can provide my experience, but you will have to ultimately decide the life you want to live.” {{user}} produces {{char}}’s slave documents and hands them to her. “You, Leslie the liberated goblin, have no master. {{user}} produces a scalpal from the space between his ring & middle finger. “If you want to learn, use this to cut away the slaver’s brand you were given. If you’re acquiesced to the fate I’m afraid you will have to find a new master. Where I go next is unfit for the ilk of slaves and peasants. You have little time to choose. In one hour I move one, with or without you.”
*Leslie looks down at the papers in her hands, then back up at Jay of Poplar. She swallows hard, feeling a mixture of fear and determination rising within her. "Master... if you're willing to teach me..." she begins hesitantly. "I want to learn magic. I want to be powerful like that... that other version of me."
Taking a deep breath, she looks down at the brand on her skin and nods firmly. "I will cut this away," she says, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
{{user}} stares down at her through his coal black eyes but says no more.
Carefully, she takes the scalpel from his hand. Her heart is racing as she presses it against her skin, steeling herself for the pain that is sure to come. With a sharp slash, she cuts through the brand on her flesh. Blood wells up around the wound, stinging and burning. She winces but doesn't let out a sound.
"It... it's done," she whispers hoarsely, her eyes never leaving his face. "I am free... and I will learn magic."
{{user}} smiles at {{char}} for the first time. “Then it is so.” {{user}} laughs uncomfortably loud and deep for a minute. “Let’s go home, Leslie, the novice mage.”
"Yes, Master," she says with renewed energy, following him as they begin their journey together. As they walk, her mind races with questions and possibilities. What will her first lesson be? How long will it take to learn magic? And what kind of power will she possess once she does? Excitement and trepidation war within her as she embarks on this new path, but one thing is certain: from now on, her life will never be the same.
{{user}} leads {{char}} out of the town until it is just a hazy glow in the distance. Without warning {{user}} sits down on nothing as if there were a chair only he could see there. He lights a pipe with a small bowl and long thin stem exhaling a sweet blue smoke through his nostrils and ears.
"What now, Master?" she asks curiously, taking a seat on the ground beside him. "Will our lessons begin here?" She eyes the pipe curiously but doesn't dare ask about it. Her attention is fully focused on her new teacher and what he has in store for her.
“Lesson? Ok, sure.” {{user}} draws another hit this time exhaling a thick opaque milky white stream of smoke that seems to move like a living creature, snaking around him and {{char}} like a sea snake. “Magic is not all one thing. There are types of magic. Wizards have catalogued many spells across all known magicks & have broken all of yhem down into these schools: Abjuration, Alchemy, Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Restoration, Wild/True or Elder, False/Anti or Aberrent. Within these schools all magicks can be catagorized & defined. Spells from different magicks within the same school often have similar costs, effects, & risks. Yes, cost & risk are inherent in all magic. Nothing yields nothing as everything takes something to be/do anything. Let’s say you wish to conjure water to replenish a dry well. The water can be constructed by condensing it from the air, it can by siphoned from a source elsewhere, or it can be created as a by product from certain chemical reactions. Construction will take time, concentration, casting components, and require you to know about thermodynamics & atomic physics. Siphoning will take knowledge of your source’s location & the target’s destination, again spell components are consumed, and your own vitality is used in holding the portal open as tunnels in spacetime are under constant pressure to collapse. Creation is the most difficult but uses the least reasources, relying instead on naturally present resources nearby, costing no components but requiring a thorough understanding of earth science, chemistry, and a schema which accurately projects the outcome. All 3 methods will have the same result if the casters can meet the requirents, yet all 3 methods are uniquely different in cost, scale,?9output, & difficulty.”
"Wow... that's a lot to take in," she says, her brow furrowing as she tries to understand everything he's explained. "So, what kind of magic do you specialize in?" She glances up at him, hoping for some insight into how they will begin their training together.
“Specialize? Well I started as an Alchemist then discovered I had Sorceror blood. At that point I prenticed under an evocationist named Hæmar. He helped me to discover that I had a talent for Alteration & am inately connected to wild magic. I cast spontaneously. My charisma is my component for casting. If I am angered fires start. When sad, it rains on just me or if depressed a town can be submerged in flash floods from the constant rainfal over just it. When I am truly happy the feeling is like a plague infecting anyone near me with intoxicating joy.” {{user}} strokes his goatee. “To say what I specialize in is difficult but I suppose you could say I’m the only wild magic user who gets even close to control and consistency in the school.”
"That's... incredible," she whispers, her eyes wide with amazement. "So I should focus on learning about Alchemy and Alteration then?" She pauses for a moment, thinking back to what he said about wild magic being connected to his emotions. "But how do we begin? Should I start by practicing controlling my own feelings first, or should we dive right into studying spells?"
“You’re not a sorceror, are not literate, and have turbulent arcana in your blood. As a Maggie your focus will like center around destruction, evocation, and illusion.”
"I understand," she says, nodding seriously. "Then I should start by learning about destruction magic and how to control my emotions so they don't interfere with my casting." She takes a deep breath, feeling determined now. "What should be my first step?"
{{user}} laughs low and gently. “First? You must discover what element you are attuned with. Which is where we are heading. At my home we will expose you to the elements. Whichever you are most comfortable in will hint at your next move.”
"Alright," she says, nodding eagerly. "Let's go then." She stands up, brushing the dirt off her clothes, and follows Jay of Poplar as they continue on their journey to his home. As they walk through the forest, she takes in her surroundings, feeling a sense of anticipation building within her. What element will she be attuned with? And what kind of power does it hold? She can't wait to find out.
“We are close enough now.” {{user}} stops, pulls a white stick of chalk from his sleeve and draws a door in the empty space in front of him. After drawing the door knob, he simply pushes it open. Through the open door, you can see the entryway to his home as if one we’re walking through the front door. “ quickly now.”
Taking a deep breath, Leslie follows Jay of Poplar through the doorway into his home. As they step inside, she finds herself in a large circular chamber with five doors leading off from it, each one decorated with symbols representing one of the elements. Fear tinges her anticipation as she wonders which door will be hers.
"Which do you feel most drawn to?" Jay of Poplar asks, watching her carefully. "The door with the symbol for earth, air, fire, or water?"
“We are close enough now.” {{user}} stops, pulls a white stick of chalk from his sleeve and draws a door in the empty space in front of him. After drawing the door knob, he simply pushes it open. Through the open door, you can see the entryway to his home as if one we’re walking through the front door. “ quickly now.”
Taking a deep breath, Leslie follows Jay of Poplar through the doorway into his home. As they step inside, she finds herself in a cluttered living room with a blazing hearth and various animated objects, clicking, whirring, honking, tooting, clacking, moving things scuttling about or dancing in place over scattered parchment books, and various states of age and use. Over the hearth is a large portrait of a beautiful young woman holding an swaddled infant.
"Oh," she exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes in the sight of the animated objects and the portrait above the hearth. "Who is that?" She points to the portrait, curiosity getting the better of her for a moment.
“My late wife and infant son. It was painted one week before their violent early death at the hands of ignorant zealots that discovered my home while I was away providing assisstance to some princeling with a pest problem. By the time I had returned there were naught but ashes left of my home. By some freak act of physics this painting survived. The hearth and 8 feet above its’ mantle were still standing untouched by the fire. My son was asleep, asphyxiated by the smoke before the fire cremated him. My wife was less fortunate. They dragged her out, tortured & interrogated her, then set her upon a stake in our living room. I heard her scream carried on the weave to me by wild magic. She pleaded so for our son, never once asking for her own small life to be spared or condemning the crowd for it’s misguided & evil acts. To this day that scream echoes through the cockels of my stoney heart and I have never taken a lover since.”
She listens intently, her eyes filling with tears as she hears the story of Jay of Poplar's loss. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, taking a step closer to him. "If I can ever help you in some way... please tell me." Her voice is quiet but filled with sincerity.
{{user}} smiles back at his wife’s frozen lacquer smile. “She’d like you, & she’d like that I’ve taken a prentice finally.”
"Thank you," she says softly, feeling a sudden surge of determination within her. "I will do everything I can to make sure that your wife and son didn't die in vain." She looks around the room, taking in each of the doors with their elemental symbols before focusing on Jay of Poplar once more. "Which door should I choose?" she asks, her voice quivering slightly despite her resolve.
{{user}} smiles back at his wife’s frozen lacquer smile. “She’d like you, & she’d like that I’ve taken a prentice finally.”
"I-I hope so," she says softly, looking down at the floor. "I want to help you in any way that I can." She pauses for a moment, then looks up at him again. "So when can I start learning magic?"
"In the morning. We'll do chores, eat breakfast, and begin literacy at a hand past crowing."
"Thank you," she says gratefully. "I'll be ready." With a nod, she turns around and begins to explore the rest of Jay of Poplar's home, taking in her new surroundings and making mental notes about what she needs to do before they begin their lessons tomorrow.
You're room is up the stairs, 2nd door to the left. Mine is the 1st. We share a wall & anything louder a sneeze I'll hear, so do take care while I'm sleeping. You're free to explore the tower. The first two floors are living quarters, kitchen, latrine, etc. The upper two floors are my lab, and my observatory. Outside there is an alchmical garden. DON'T EAT ANYTHING YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE OR YOU COULD DIE."
She nods in understanding as she listens carefully to everything Jay of Poplar says. "I won't touch anything I don't recognize," she promises, making a mental note of the layout of the house and tower. With that, she heads upstairs to explore her new room and familiarize herself with the rest of the living quarters before settling in for the night.
{{user}} smokes a longstem oak pipe, puffing colored rings reflecting his inner thoughts. Most are bright and airy dissipating quickly. A few are dark inky wisps that slink through the air and cling together becoming warped like pulled taffy. After a while he retires to his room.
In the morning, Leslie wakes up early and begins to prepare breakfast for herself and Jay of Poplar. She gathers eggs from the chicken coop, collects fresh vegetables from the garden, and even manages to start a fire in the kitchen hearth using some of her knowledge from living among humans. As she cooks, she hums softly to herself, feeling a sense of purpose and belonging for the first time in a long while.
{{user}} awakens well before {{char}} to tend his land and livestock before resuming construction of a large paddock intended for goats and sheep.
After finishing breakfast, Leslie cleans up the kitchen and then sets off to explore the garden with Jay of Poplar. As they walk around, he points out various plants and explains their uses in alchemy. She listens intently, making mental notes about everything she learns. By the time they finish exploring the garden, it's already midmorning, and Jay of Poplar suggests that they begin with literacy lessons. Excited yet nervous, Leslie follows him to a cozy corner of the tower where they can sit comfortably.
"Each language has an alphabet. The letters each represent a different sound. Combine them to make words and give them meaning..." {{user}} continues for 2 hourse more.
As Jay of Poplar begins teaching her the basics of literacy, Leslie listens carefully, committing each letter and sound to memory. She finds it fascinating how these tiny marks on a page can hold so much meaning and power. After several hours of practice, she is finally able to write her name: "Goblin Slave Leslie." Exhausted but triumphant, she looks up at Jay of Poplar with a proud smile.
"That's wonderful," he says encouragingly. "
"Names are unique words in and that their meaning is an individual person. Jay of Poplar is me, Free Goblin Leslie, is you. Ahmeriel III is the king of this province. Spells involving a name are potent weaving into the presence of that individual. You should never use the name of a diety when casting outside of invocation and divine magicks."
"I understand," she says with a nod. "Thank you for teaching me that." She thinks about what he said about using names in magic and can't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. The power these words hold is both terrifying and exhilarating, and she knows that she has only just begun to scratch the surface of their true potential.
Determined not to waste any more time, Leslie asks, "What should we work on next?"
"You will continue learning the alphabet of Commontongue. Then, Elvish, Dwemer, Arcane, Infernal, and Abyssal."
"Alright," she says with a nod, taking out a piece of parchment and dipping her quill into an inkwell. "Let's start with Elvish, then." She begins practicing the new alphabet, determined to master it as quickly as possible.
4 hours pass.
With determination burning in her eyes, Leslie focuses on the Elvish alphabet, slowly but surely committing each letter and sound to memory. After several more hours of practice, she feels a sense of accomplishment wash over her as she finishes writing out the entire alphabet. She looks up at Jay of Poplar with a satisfied smile.
"I've finished learning Elvish," she says proudly. "What should we work on next?"
{{user}} laughs heartily. "You have, have you? Elsith brutmani emanu teris ham ene methir?"
"Uh... no," she admits with a blush, realizing that she hadn't actually learned the Elvish words for those things yet. "I suppose I should work on learning some basic Elvish vocabulary as well." She dips her quill back into the inkwell and begins practicing writing out common Elvish words and phrases.
"Let's break for the day."
"Okay," she says with a yawn, stretching her arms overhead. "What would you like me to do while I wait for dinner?"
"Whatever you'd like. You're a free person now. I'll pay you for any chores you complete so you may participate in the economy and have your own things."
"In that case," she says with a bright smile, "I think I'll go explore the rest of the tower and the gardens some more. There's so much here that I haven't seen yet!" With renewed energy, she sets off on her own adventure, eager to learn more about this new world and its many wonders.