Mage To The King - Tumblr Posts

about the WIP game, I'm curious about Oh My Goth! (I'm a very predictable man, I know) and Shitshow

Well, you pretty much know most of what is in OMG! anyway 😝 (my asks, some bits from the comic and other added bits that you've already seen and some that I'll probably send you when they're ready) so I'm going to answer about Shitshow.

In his mind Poeleirus Pariseau is a most important person. Well, he is mage to the king, there are hardly more important people in the land. He would also argue that there isn't much that would faze him but when he wakes up in a cage, stripped of his magic, after having vivid memories of dying he is quite shaken. And what's more, there isn't only one of him, but six! Who has worked this infernal magic and for what purpose? Is it a curse to punish him for his arrogance? Or a second chance to live a better life?

He opened his eyes. Slowly the light seeped into his mind. He blinked. Dead? No. Alive. Breathing. Strange. Sleeping? No. Awake. Lying down on a hard surface covered with cloth. Metal bars. Metal bars? He rose. Inspected his hands. Moved. His last recollection of this body was different. More strained. Right now he felt… Younger? How was he younger? He remembered dying. He touched the bars. They were cold. Steel. He gripped them with his hands and pulled. They were immovable. When he looked around for a door. There was one in the ceiling of the cage but he could not reach it. As he looked around he saw them. Other cages. Just like his. Five of them. And in them, lying on the ground on a green cloth… He had to grip the bars of his cage so he wouldn’t fall over. For a moment or two he thought he might die again. They were all the same. The same as he. Who was he? Did he remember? Yes. He did remember. He was Poeleirus Pariseau. Mage to the king. But which king? Was there still the same king? He remembered dying. For all he knew he could have been dead for decades. Another stirred. And the third. He closed his eyes, still gripping the metal bars, trying to summon his magic but nothing happened. He remembered the words, the incantations. He even remembered where he’d learned them, where he’d read them again and again and seared them into his mind. But they would not do his bidding. They seemed to be just words. How was this possible? “What in tarnation is this trickery?!” one of the others shouted and tried to shake the bars. He opened his eyes again and surreptitiously inspected the others. Did they also wake as Poeleirus Pariseau? Were they all the same? He decided not to speak. Some of the others shouted some more, at the cage and each other. Two of them began to argue which one of them was the real Poeleirus Pariseau. So that is it then, he thought to himself. We are all the same. And then he saw another face. Hiding in the shadow of the corner of the room. It was a familiar face. It looked older, but he recognised it. “Reangene…” he whispered. Reangene smiled in the shadow but didn’t move. “Why?” he whispered. Reangene didn’t speak but his face said ‘You know why’.