The Misrule Rapier

∴ An Arcane Desire∴

In accordance with your vision, the warrior steps onto the shore – as cold and forbidding as the waters she emerges from. Black is her armour, and gleaming black her hair. Black is the hilt of the slender sword at her side, laced with bars and pierced with an eight-pointed star.

If this is chaos magic, it is not as you imagined it. Far from uncentered your every thought and fibre is in orbit, spiralling gyres drawn into an unerring epicentre: a single intent, incandescent with urgency.

You must make that sword your own – or perish in pursuit of it.

An unfamiliar cry spills from your pale lips as you launch yourself at the warrior. As if in slow motion you watch surprise bloom in her dark eyes, then harden into chilling resolve.

Continue reading