- There are many subclasses of magic user with a wide range of specializations. Here is an overview of some of the more common skills that they share.
- The ability to manipulate the energies of the world around them in a variety of ways. Some magic users have made pacts with the very elements themselves and are able to call upon them in times of need. To do the mages bidding if they’re able to control them.
- Very learned individuals, they can decipher scrolls and symbols, sometimes unlocking powerful secrets once forgotten.
- Whilst magic users are often restricted in their uses of armour and weapons, they can complement the martial skills of warriors and more combat focused professions. With their own brand of offensive and defensive spells magic users can be equally as deadly.
There was a fizzle and crackle. The darkened chamber lit up suddenly. Then almost as quickly as there had been light, the already sparsely lit room was plunged back into semi-darkness. Flickering candlelight throwing up the silhouette of two figures standing in the centre of the room.
“But I swear I called the right words this time, I don’t understand. I could feel the heat but then it left.” one of the figures said in exasperation.
“The words were correct but there is more to holding an element than words, especially fire. Watch how fire moves” continued the figure.” It weaves, shrinks and grows reaching out with fingers to grasp the air. You need to move your arms more, try a figure of eight pattern, big to begin with the better you get the smaller it will become.”
“Okay Loreth, let me try again.”
The taller figure nodded, “Whenever you’re ready Talia”.
Talia took a deep breath in. Placing her feet shoulder width apart, she raised her hands up to waist height. She pushed out with them and at the same time she spoke unfamiliar words in an ancient language. Slowly she started moving her arms in a circular motion, big wide circles like Loreth had said. She quickened the pace, slowly starting to weave her arms in a figure of eight motion. The words she spoke in time, a rhythm as the swirling of the arms got faster. The pattern of eight gathered shape and as it did faint glimmers of orange and red started to follow the flow of the twirling arms. The faint glimmers grew, now trails that starting to blend and race along the arms.
The young apprentice became wreathed in a dancing glow of firelight, her face lit up in wonder. The arms slowed until the hands alone weaved a gentle pattern. Dancing at the end of each finger, a slender flicker of flame, rising and falling, darting in and out of the young mage’s hands. Talia looked up at her mentor with pride, the old master looked down at his pupil, a smile across his lips.