Recent content by Mirthwind

Mirthwind pondered Pomrick’s assertion of the relative mana strain of the various schools. “More costly? Hmm. In my experience, only if the transmutation target changes in the summed amount of its substance. Marble and water, for example, weigh very nearly the same. I could have left the...

Mirthwind waited a long, awkward moment for any of the younger students to answer. Finally, he cleared his throat. His voice was calm, and, he hoped, professorial enough for the occasion. "Bloomsfield enjoys a profound, fundamental connection to the Weave that other students and even Maesters...

Mirthwind saluted Pomrick and Maester Thunderbeard in turn with his staff, his expression unusually somber. It was cruel of the old bastard to nearly let the poor guy pass out. And nearly as cruel for the other students to guffaw and point and carry on as though they would have fared any...

Mirthwind felt a familiar crackle in the weave and grinned. He nudged his staff toward the pool, summoning an illusory cayman at the pool’s edge. The half-elf started to saunter along a circular route around to the opposite side of the pool as the illusionary predator began to slide into the...

Mirthwind smiled appreciatively, until he saw the water dripping off. Assuming Pomrick’s eyes were on him, Mirthwind mimed a spell motion on his own eyes while aiming his staff just ahead of the falling drips. “Aquando!”-and another pool of water opened in the floor just in front of his...

Taking advantage of the precious seconds Pomrick spent escaping the pool, Mirthwind immediately stepped forward into a followup spell, aiming his staff directly at Pomrick this time and speaking “Testudande!”, meaning to polymorph him into a large tortoise. Pomrick Bloomsfield

Mirthwind sighed sympathetically at the panicked apprentice, his voice magically echoing out "Aquando!" as he leveled his staff not at the ward Pomrick seemed to be feverishly willing into existence around himself, but at the thick marble floor beneath him, attempting to turn it into a pool of...

Mirthwind sauntered forward, saluting the old codger and his opponent in turn, a light smirk drawn upon his lips as he walked a smooth arc to his position within the dueling circle. The glower in Thunderbeard's eyes told him in no uncertain terms that he was hoping, no, expecting great things...

Mirthwind reclined casually, almost jadedly, against a column, fingers lightly tracing a dormant rune carved into his plain-looking elmwood staff. He suppressed a smirk at the rumbling but curtly clipped syllables now shaking the souls of the suddenly reconsidering, wide-eyed fifth and sixth...

A half-elf apprentice transmuter nearing the end of his studies at Elbion College