Magic has always been a part of this world. From east to west the lands sing with the horrific and the sublime — Magic is the cornerstone of all life. The peoples of the world are no different: From the fire songs of the Fomir to the mist magic of the Ashivir, all are gifted.

Common Magic

The Common Magic is in the blood of the people. Rarely trainable in other races, it is a part of the practitioner; an accident of birth. These are gifts from the Gods themselves that are bound to the very heart of the people.

Small Magics

Amongst the hovels of the villages, and shadows of the alleyways, there are those who have stumbled onto the little magics. Rituals and spells for daily use. These are tiny powers, tools for specific tasks. They are not earth shaking, but they save lives and win wars. They work in degrees of subtlety, not with force and flash. They are innumerable, teachable, common and yet hidden away from sight.

These are the magics of the village wise woman, and the tribe’s shaman. These silence the step of the assassin, and bring morning dew to drought-parched crops.

Great Magics

In books and treatises, whispered secrets from the Gods are written. How the Sun crosses the sky. Why the moons chase each other. The secret by-ways of the underworld, and the gates to other realms. The Great Magics are unforgiving, impossibly difficult and incredibly powerful. They are rituals of world bending that tap directly into the divine heart that shaped the cosmos.

Anyone could learn these magics, for they are the secrets of the universe itself. They are bound not to people, but to things, places and times. But they are hard, taking years of study. They take unbreakable wills, and founts of inner strength that few possess. These magics consume their weilders, and failure results in death or worse.


A Rising Tide proemial