The Atlantic Mage Tower Presents

Ra, Mage of the Tower

Life of Ra

Ra only has a vague recollection of his own past, having parts of his memory erased due to having been thrown into an unstable magical gate at a young age without any magical training. The distorting journey rendered his black hair fiery red... his body ruptured and reborn a hundred times as energies and blazing heat propelled him to the other side at dizzying speeds... memories were scattered into a myriad of incoherent fragments, with each broken piece whispering to him about his seemingly glorious past... visions of golden pillars... faithful servants... court counselors with jeweled scepters... towering pyramids that hold the secrets of his civilization... mages and high priests that guarded him as his family was slaughtered... piercing screams and magical chanting... a forceful shove into a shimmering doorway... faint words of eternal goodbye... a distant prayer and blessing.... "farewell, Shining One..."

Life started anew for Ra as he worked as a teenage miner in various parts of the new world he was delivered to, known as Britannia. With an instinctive interest for the arcane arts, he watched the mages of the Sorcerer's Guild in awe through the windows of their guildhouse when traveling to Moonglow to deliver some ingots. With the money he received for his deliveries, he decided to spend it on training himself up in the arts and buying expensive reagents... In mere months, the powers of the searing lightning and magical traveling were soon added to his repertoire of survival skills. On a hot summer night, the young Ra decided to test his magical abilities at the deadly arena of the Moonglow graveyard, where undead were rumored to rise at night and walk in the land of the living...

Bushes rustled under the full moon as Ra approached the graveyard gates... the absence of animals sounds was an eerie omen and the occasional dimming of the moon sent waves of fear rippling through his heart, which already raced in a wild beat no bard could manage... Peering over the fences and looking for his first undead in half-fear, half-excitement, he was harshly met with a horrific sight... It was not an undead, only far, far, worse - a massacre... a massive bloodbath that created rivulets of blood trickling around tombstones and seeping down into the domain of the dead.

Amidst the chaos, the horrific screams, continuous magical chanting, and on top of a pile of dead bodies stood a fear inspiring mage in a dark grey robe and hat... with a few magical words uttered, booming thunder ripped across the skies, terrorizing the lands in a radius of perpetual fear as the sorcerer unleashed snaking pillars of blinding lightning that lashed from one victim to another, striking dead three warriors at once and sending an archer flying across the cemetery, paralyzed and screaming like a madman going through unspeakable horror. Heat and sparks flitted across mid-air in a violent chain-reactive aftermath. Suddenly, a bolt of energy spanned graveyard in mere seconds, snuffing out his remaining life. Wide-eyed and fear-stricken, Ra was struck by a name... he suddenly remembered the rumors about a reckless murderer in Moonglow... and his name was The Dread Lord Spite. He never thought that first visit to the graveyard would end up being his last, but a fact dawned on him - this was also where he would get ripped to ribbons and join the bloody mess.

The Dread Lord glanced up the night sky, slowly descended his altar of corpses and checked out the backpacks of his smoldering victims. Armor, reagents, and weapons were swiftly swept into his own bags as if they were his rightful belongings. The odor of charred flesh stung Ra's nose when he caught a glimpse of what the sorcerer looked like... In the pale moonlight, his dual colored hair and beard shimmered... a twist of silver in gold. It was imminent death that loomed before Ra's eyes, but as his heart beat uncontrollably, he marveled the true power of mage he had just witnessed... unprecedented power in its full, unrestrained glory. Also wielded by an indiscriminate man killer.

"Would you want some armor? Or would you rather have a limb or two to show your friends how you fared tonight in this graveyard?" the Dread Lord suddenly muttered in a raspy voice. Ra did not realize Lord Spite was referring to him until the sorcerer whipped a dagger out, carved an arm off a dead warrior, walked over to him with a bone chest in one hand, the dead limb in the other, looking at him squarely. He had long discovered his presence... Ra's body started shaking against his own will as death was standing merely a few feet away. Unable to speak, he reached out and pointed at the bone chest with a shaking finger.

"Why did you stay, aren't you afraid?" Spite asked with a smirk, gesturing the dead bodies and looking at him again. "I... I... I like... magic... but I... no... I... am... I am sorry..." "For?" "For... watching."

Spite broke out in a roaring laugh. For a second Ra thought he had managed to amuse the killer and could possibly get out of this alive, then Spite snapped back, his laughter abruptly stopped, his eyes glowing red and his face devoid of all emotions.

"You want to learn magic? You LIKE magic?" he hissed his question. "Ye... yes I do sir... I learned a bit from the local magician's guild and I -- " "And you are as lame as they are I bet !!! BAH !! Mere tricks !! What do they know about sorcery? What do they know about wielding powers beyond your physical body can hold?!!! What do they know about bending nature to your own will and twisting it around your fingers???" he boomed, walking closer and closer to Ra, curling his snarled fingers into a forceful grip and shaking the fist in his face.

Ra thought he was about either going to pass out in fear or throw up after an earth-shattering nervous breakdown... when Spite gripped him by his arms and shook him violently. Then stopped. The Dread Lord locked him in an unshakable glare, and frowned without saying a word.

"Very good. You seem to have survived my tempers quite well." he finally announced. Ra was utterly confused. "Which reminds me I need a messenger, or rather, a spy, for it is not convenient for me to go into town myself. Good. Very good. You are from Moonglow? Where is your family?" "I have no family, my... my lord..." "Good then I don't have to orphan you. Reagents are expensive." "Why me? I just saw you kill... " "Why NOT? I can do the same to you if you don't do WELL."

At a wave of his hand, a magical gate appeared and he gestured me to step in... we found ourselves outside a huge mansion along the west coast of the Moonglow Isle. Waves crashed against the rock shore over which Spite's house stood. Ra never thought this was going to be his home for the years to come... He became the Dread Lord's assistant and messenger boy as he had promised (or rather, forced to promise), performing daily tasks such as collecting bounty information about Spite from town, buying him reagents and food, and selling armor and weapons that he did not need. But that was not the reason why Ra stayed and continued on with this job... He seemed to have earned the Dread Lord's trust over time by not running away with his gold and plentiful reagents, and was eventually shown bits and pieces of how to delve into deeper and more advanced spell work, that is, whenever Spite's temper was good... Ra would feign ignorance and just admire his masters work, not asking any questions and leaving him alone whenever the slightest sense of uneasiness was in the air. That worked well, and Ra was able to pick up some key tricks that would help him advance to higher levels...

Time passed quickly as the routine of bringing Spite his information, mining, smithing, selling, and magical training continued... and an obsession somehow weaved out the path of a destiny. After a few years, Lord Spite decided to leave Britannia for good, and simply told Ra to leave, giving him a suit of magical silver plate as payment and telling him to just pack up and leave his house... Ra was once again on his own upon very short notice... but now equipped with much greater knowledge in the arts...

22 years have passed while energies were relentlessly poured into the obsessive mastery of his Magery skills. Ra's world revolved around magic, his body sustained by the food he created at the wave of his hands and his mind feasted upon every morsel of understanding in the arts. Time slipped by as spidery theories of magic built upon a firm foundation in Ra's mind laid down by Spite's teachings... Today, as mage with the strength of a veteran miner, Ra has transformed himself into what he has always wanted to be... and perhaps what he was originally destined to be - 'the Shining One', marked by fiery hair and named after the lost god of the sun.

Perhaps it was fate... or perhaps the Goddess known as Pele has extended her wondrous blessings to those who were destined to aid her beloved son, Tiffric... Ra had the most unexpected meeting with the wise Keeper of the Stone of the Atlantic Mage Tower on a grassy field south of Moonglow on a mid-autumn night, coincidentally just a few days before he would reach Grandmaster status in the arts. A brief and friendly chat led to a visit to the Moonglow Mage Tower, and as the building came into view, Ra was shocked to find out that it was built on where Spite's house originally had been... what had happened to the Dread Lord? Like himself, everyone just knew he had left Britannia... Tiffric had bought the land from him and the mansion was demolished to make space for the Tower. Ra looked at the Tower, lost in deep thought... perhaps it was time to follow a greater cause, and this was an indication of what was to come... the same spot in Moonglow, now with a different meaning under the leadership of someone extremely different from Spite... it probably meant magic was meant for something greater and virtuous... or perhaps he simply thought he belonged to a group of people that shared the same love for magic...

Perhaps this was just another guild that we would resign from and resort to mining afterward... perhaps he would be criticized for joining a guild and not having 'the heart' to go with it... Perhaps it was a divine call to Ra, for the time has come for him to help make the Flame of the Atlantic Mage Tower shine brighter by giving all he has, to give like all the others... but only time can open the next chapter...

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No Llamas were injured during the creation of this webpage. They did however learn of a mage named Ra.