It was nothing more than a child’s plaything until the sorcerer got hold of it…
And you think you’ve had issues with your father…
I am woman. Hear me roar!
"Hello, (insert village’s name)! It’s great to be here!"
Wha—is that a miniature thunderstorm in that thing?
What if the innkeeper knew what you wanted before you did?
A world where there is a finite amount of magic present in the world, and it's almost used up. With the winds of magic being weak and unstable, how will nations built on the heavy use of magic survive?