The training of a shadowpriest.
In the quaint town of Ogresfield were it ney mattered what caster you are.
Mage, priest, wiccan, witch, wizard and more all were welcome in the town of Ogresfield, no notions of stereotype nor malicious ignorance does tar.
Even the necromancer and the Dragon slayers were welcomed with open arms.
There on the hill was the spellcaster academy. The young shadow priest is yet to know qualms.
Yet to know the true sense of shadow magics harm. At this time, he was practicing in Druidry.
His potions lacking finesse and suited to meet the sewagery. In, fact many did he repeat, continually striving to practice potion after potion he crafted.
In the hope that one day he and others would be enraptured by his own potential and selected for the Thornville College of Potion Craft.
His life was he thought more difficult than his peers, he had the least gold of almost all the people in his year. Yet, he was soon to learn that gold is not the only thing that casters yearn.
He, would soon see what burns in the eyes of the demons.
And how they can convert casters to the horde with malicious magic of power and persuasion.
Despite the solidarity of the people of Ogresfield and the zeal of the light and the sealed darkness.
There was still lurking a bleakness in Ogresfield. Although, the people of Ogresfield understood the union of black and white magic.
The shadow magic was still indulged in by those with ill intent.
And now with this story by the fire you will see why the shadow priest despite his cast of choice never needs to repent.
For, to fight fire with fire sometimes is the only way to end a forest a blaze.
And in all his days he was not expecting anymore of the maleficent magic to be seen again at the academy. And oh so strange that it would revolve around potion crafting oncemore.
Although, this time casting was also a core element of the uproar. Of the pain that leaves his soul soar to this day.
One that too leaves him empowered, yet in his eyes there is only shadow magic neither the beauty of black magic nor white magic. Although certainly never the magic of darkness, thankfully.
Only the gods know how dangerous his casting could be if it were so.
You see despite the elements of sorrow and pain that foreshadowed this priests life, at the time of which I speak when he attended the academy and even now hitherto.
He still sees the light in the black and the colour in the white enchantment. Though for a long time he lived in bare and squalid encampment.
He always smiled, he always laughed in between the moments of sorrow. Like a front crawl swim, he was still able to breathe.
Yet from the chaos spells casted upon him he has not yet had his leave.
You see it is like any story really a friend and a fiend feeding on the joy.
Among the halls of the Ogresfield Academy was deep dark secrets left there in silence so as to catch the demon cult.
Mages, wiccans necromancers and more all took a secret oath to carry justice and catch the users of malevolent magic.
In exchange the secrets remained.
The unwitting students and the ones aware that had to face the demons.
One group tasting the utopia the other ensnared by dystopia.
It, was however truly idyllic there were houses within the academy yet no division and better still no cliche. People enjoyed the fine arts music the sports of goblet chasing and more.
What they didn't know was goblins were lurking at the doors.
Servants of the malevolent ones, goblins served nothing but the maliciousness of darkness.
Once sprites whom followed the path so far into the shadows that they became slaves to the ways of malevolence.
These goblins not like the ones of fairy tales they were harbingers of despair.
And worse still had there hands on the transfiguration potions.
And our unwitting shadow priest and his friends were soon to meet the fiends.
Though they had been present since the first encounter with the malovelant ones some years before.
I am afraid it is not yet ime to share the story of that encounter at the academy. One day you will understand young caster as we share this tale aside the roasting fire.
For it sires a great sadness that hate and malevolence can sprout from if I am not ready to tell it and you ney ready to hear it.
That is not to undervalue the darkness that is entailed in this tale.
And so the it was 2 years since and the Shadow priest was on the mend though still suffering from the chaos spells placed upon him.
But without falter nor giving up on a whim he continued to engage with the world of magic.
He fell in love with literature every word painting a picture began to see history as a canvass of magic that could empower the weary soul.
The legends of Sparta, Boudica and Dragon heart and many more flowing through his spirit.
Courage became his only empiric.
And just in time
One of his old friends began to take up potion crafting and casting prior to that they were engaged in other such arts such as transfiguration, tanking and healing.
Together they began to combine their knowledge and had great fun in the classes at the Ogresfield academy of magical arts.
The academy was awarded the potion crafting accolade and so, new potion ingredients and cauldrons were sweeping the chambers.
They began to apply healing spells to the notions of potion craft with great success and furthermore in the history of literature casting were enthralled in each-others wisdom
and interpretation of the feats of the great casters and mortals of the centuries prior.
Our young shadow priest and the young wiccan became further enthralled in friendship and that's is what it would always remain as, the shadows would in both their minds always reign
Both victim to the chaos spells casted upon them by the malevolent ones.
Unwitting to the shadow priest every day she dropped a subtle cue that there were Dark Goblins everywhere.
She was reduced to silence,
as if she had spoken out the spell that the elder witch cast to protect her would come crashing down and she would surely perish and perhaps every student at the academy too.
Part 2 is available... If, you are willing to delve