"Fear not this new night, my brothers, the terrors of an everlasting darkness are as nothing when compared to the darkness in Man's heart. For, who among you knows what Man might do when Hunger sleeps in his bed and Famine is his child's only playmate?" --Prelude
Pie Jesu Domine *thwack*, dona eis requiem *thwack*...
Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.
You have been born into a rebellious world. The whole of history is treason; your blood was spilt before you were even born; the various creeds are but an infidelity to the Truth; and Man’s laws are but treason to his Maker. -Passage from the Samahhi
It is the Year of Furtive Shadows, and everyone can smell the changes in the wind. Everyone, from the lowest scully boy up to the regents, knew, deep down, that something must happen soon.
A rare branch of the arcane masters, encountered only among the deepest hill folk or ramshackle cabins, the Saucerer takes his power directly from the consumption of cheap liquor. Only the strongest, rankest, most nauseating of homebrewed alcohol will do, where it is instantly converted into mana available to the caster. Without a minimum level of inebriation, the Saucerer will be unable to cast any spells, as focus inhibits his spellcasting abilities.