Recent content by Daelan

[Apologies, gang, but I keep going to start a fresh post and there's just no time for it lately. I'm gonna have to bow out for a while. Daelan falls into a temporal plot hole or whatever. Obviously the tavern is open, Bronwyn (or any generic barkeep you want to NPC) will serve. FYI, the nature...

In original Ayenee, Daelan was a less evolved character by far. Much younger, a lot rougher around the edges, he was an escaped soul given form in a total nexus at the dawning of a universe. Essentially the living embodiment of creation, or change. The name Daelan Magan means literally the Power...

My thoughts exactly. It was dead quiet, I had a vague idea for what I thought might be a fun tale to share, and I figured, what better place to rev up the old engines than the Ayenee Tavern? Also, to address the question of timelines in the OP, I've been vaguely playing as though it's about 20...

Well for my little part of the world, I've sort of taken the reins of the Ayenee Tavern proper. Daelan is a born rebel, grown up and out of his rebellious phase (although anyone familiar with my arc right now will know what I mean when I say possibly growing back down into it!). So no delusions...

Daelan rather haltingly found his way to an old, patched-up easy chair by the burning fireplace. He hobbled like an unprepared marathon runner at mile 25. Once, twice, finally a third time, and then only with Bronwyn to assist, he turned the old chair to face the room. He breathed heavy at the...

As Gris approached with the Cup, the chronal arcs split to a third focal point. The black scar of a claw encircling Daelan's left ankle still drew the main share, but the Scroll pulled a portion, and the moment the Cup came within six feet of the spasmodic mage, a portion leapt to that as well...

is Colonel Mustard, in the Library, with the Lead Pipe.

Hey gang. It's great to see old friends catching up. Greater still to have some GAME happening here (which I'm enjoying tremendously, by the way). I'm uhh... Daelan. Formerly known as Daelan, and often referred to as Daelan. :-P In the meat, I'm Matthew (the guy that went and married Anna in...

"Hmm..?" Daelan had been noticing the tavern's sudden activity himself when Mith voiced his suspicions of time bubbles. Before Mith's sentence was complete, Daelan had whipped an oversized pocket watch from his waistcoat and clicked the face cover open with the press of a button. The watch...

"Fancy!" grinned Daelan, leaning heavily on his staff. "The church bells are a really nice touch." He hopped up the steps, favoring his left leg heavily. Clearly all the spells had drawn their due, and he was feeling drained for it. Maybe a cold ale to soothe the leg! The gray-streaked beard...

Trotting down the steps, Daelan's attention was immediately drawn to the nail and the spellwork surrounding. His eyebrows lifted and he made a lop-sided grin at Mith. "Pretty little spell, that. Knocking the flaws out? I've tried similar approaches with people on occasion, but results vary." He...

Mith rose and made his way toward the door, and Daelan spoke to Gris hurriedly. "Fair enough," replied Daelan. "A bit difficult to explain --and more difficult still to prove-- the existence of something called The Forgotten. Essentially, it's a god of un-making, at least as near as I can tell...

Bronwyn looked for a moment as if she would argue. She wanted to shout at Daelan, berate him for showing weakness to a stranger, for expending so much of his limited strength on useless old buildings and toys to be wielded by whom, exactly? And for how long? If Daelan died, she would as well...

The grip that met Mith's outstretched hand was equal parts eager and proud. Here was a man who could clearly appreciate the Craft. Daelan gave a somewhat impish bow, with a sparking flourish common among caste Mages on several worlds he'd visited. The bow was a bit lopsided, as the conjurer was...

[Nnnnnope. Can't do it. Mith, I welcome your next post, sir.]