Koeryn

An Observers Quick Notes Field Guide to the Identification of Magic and its Users Magic users, regardless of the names for themselves, can be classified in three primary methodologies; Instinctual, Ritual, or Hybrid. Instinctual magic users are those with a strong natural affinity to the arcane and deep reservoirs of inborn mana. They do not require an outside source for focus, mana, or direction, allowing them to utilize their magic as naturally as breathing, though training is generally required for them to meet their full potential. This natural talent is not without its downfalls as even the most powerful of them can drain their reserve

"There's only about a dozen left out here." "So that's it then?" "...Yeah, pretty much." Ket swirled her whiskey idly. "What, you gonna tell me to stay?" Brand snorted. "Fuck that." The mercenary laughed at that, before tossing back the last of her tumbler. "Still got the last twelve though." "Yeah. Suppose you do." She stretched back into the false leather chair, her armor creaking almost as much as the supports. Brand refilled his own tumbler, pushing a heavy wooden crate over to her chair with his boot. "Last shipment then." She cracked open an eye, focusing on the pallet wood with a grin. "Gotta love Christmas." "I got ya somethi

"Listen, I don't care if you're the final coming of Christ, here to let me know that I've won all the money in the world and been made king of the Pygmys. Sit down and be quiet." The voice was calm, only very lightly hinted with annoyance, and yet it brooked no room for argument or rebuttal. The man hadn't even bothered to look up from the paper he was writing, merely pointing one steady finger toward the couch off to the side of the room before gathering his pen and continuing on the most recent line. The demon, quite taken aback and for the first time in her very long life entirely unsure of how to proceed, demurely followed the direction

If I had t'figure 'bout where things started goin' downhill, it'd probably a-been the day I showed up at work smellin' like cheap whiskey. See, first of all, I weren't even THAT drunk by the time I got there, and second, it weren't THAT cheap. The whiskey. See, that's when they fired me, the bastards. Gets worse though, 'cause then they called the pigs what came 'round and picked me up for drinkin' and drivin' when I went and tried to leave the plant. That's bullshit, I was just drivin'. I hadn't had a drink in two hours at that point! Anyways, I had some money squirelled away, and an over abund.. Abun-dunce? Dance? Feckit, a lot of free ti

Honestly, I think most of the reason we still use them is 'cause they're shiny. Some of them are. Okay, they CAN, occasionally be shiny, if you work at it. It's not like they're actually worth anything these days, not after the economic break down, the global riots, and the general depopulation of the planet. The people who set their worth have long disappeared. The littler ones are my favourite. They polish up to a warm, shiny copper, but most of them are black and green. I don't really know why I collect them, when I could be using them to trade for food, but I do. Maybe I'm part raven? Ha! That'd be the day... Can you imagine it? Growing