The realm itself is young, just over 7,000 years. Currently 1,400 years into it's 4th era: Weskeilia is blooming again after the devastating ice age that was the 3rd era. The Thearrothen Peninsula shattered, creating the Thearrothen Archipelago, but destroying the physical structures that made up the Thearrothen Observatory, thankfully the academy itself lives within its own pocket dimension. The observatory was designed and constructed by Thul, Iris, and Sezira during the fall of the divine. Being constructed by divine deities itself, has helped the academy hold such a prestigious rank over other arcane academies. Many folk spend their entire lives waiting to receiving an invitation to study at the observatory, and you've been studying here for a while now. You have your chance to shed your title as a hedge wizard at the most prestigious wizardry university on Weskeilia.

I'm extremely beginner friendly. I started DMing 6 years ago. I still occasionally run games for my original group. I will always help you figure something out, just ask. There are no stupid questions. I expect my players to show respect to everyone at the table, including the DM. This is a safe space. I am however looking for people who are going to be able to get into character and roleplay. Being a pbp, there isn't any improv, you have time to think about your responses to something. I'm looking for people who are willing to post more than one sentence at a time. I'm also looking for at least one post a day, but preferably more. I will post as much as needed to keep things going.

We may be going to a college here, but this isn't a university simulator! Some time may be spent in a classroom, and most of our time will be on university grounds, but there will be plenty of chaos. There is a lot of opportunity for roleplay, especially if you initiate it with each other, there will be some adventure, and there might even be some magic.

Because this is a PbP and combat can be an infamous time killer, I run fewer combat encounters than I do in a normal live game. I replace the combat encounters with puzzles, roleplay, and other dangers. (The same XP is rewarded for avoiding an encounter as is for fighting and winning one.)

I'm looking for 2 maybe 3 players to join on this adventure. Characters will be starting at 4th level. At least one level needs to be in wizard, if you wish to multiclass. While bladesinging is in my world, this specific academy doesn't teach it, so there is a soft ban on the bladesinging subclass. Tasha's optional class features for wizards are allowed, and encouraged.

Variant races are banned. The Tasha's create-your-own-race (custom lineage) are banned, and legacy versions are discouraged, but tasha's optional race changes are allowed. You should be able to play whatever race you wish, however you wish. If you don't own the subclass or race you wish to play, pick it anyway. If you get picked, you will have access to it. I do not own Strixhaven, so the Owlin race is, unfortunately, unavailable unless you own it. The Owlin race is not banned. I just don't own Strixhaven. No homebrew races, subclasses, or backgrounds will be allowed in this adventure. If your application includes banned material, I will not consider you, as you didn't take the time to read what I took the time to write. It's only fair.

Your character has been studying here at the academy for a few months now. Your character was likely a commoner prior to joining the academy (this doesn't have to be the case) think about who they were before being invited to study at the academy. There are two ways to get invited to study at the academy, either the academy sent you an invitation, or your family paid an extravagant bribe to the current Keeper of the Observatory, Cylic Ferdeth.

I recommend rolling stats. 4d6 drop lowest, and reroll 1s once. I also recommend you roll your ability scores in a post and make your application in a separate post. Due to how buggy the forum dice roller was last time I ran a PbP.

Put your backstory here

Background:  Custom (per Tasha's) - Soldier / Folk Hero

Backstory:  Aside:  Xarian is intended to be an oddball and outcast at the academy (for his martial background), just as he was as a guard and soldier (for his use of magic).  No one quite knows why the academy let him in.  He is he the self-effacing big guy with the greatsword on his back, practicing the school of War Magic and trying to fit in and be taken seriously among the studious spellcasters.  But a more loyal friend, no other wizard will find.

Many months ago:

Another lost cause, this one. Or so Xarian Harkes had thought.

For some reason, he had stood up to the bully this time. The brute.  Gerrard Borresquieu, the son of the captain, looking every bit the part, had been laying into another sparring yard victim with his greatsword. This time, the sacrificial lamb had been Timothy, the chandler's son. One of Xarian's few friends. How the big man had laughed when Timothy, bruised and bleeding beyond reason for a friendly bout among soldiers, had lain face-down in the mud, unable to rise. Xarian found himself standing up.

Why, he could not say, exactly. Xarian's father had been a passing wood elf adventurer from the northern forests and his mother... his mother had been the kind of person that passing visitors paid a visit to often. Locals too. Mostly at night. By all rights, Xarian should have kept poring through his tattered book with its symbols and runes, attempting use a pair of lodestones to mend his torn breeches. Arcane mumbling... halting with uncertainty. Xarian did have a greatsword to match Borresquieu, aye, and nearly the stature. Probably the quickness as well. But less experience, training and strength. And immeasurably less status of birth. Even if he won somehow, it would come out as a loss after the abuse he would take in the weeks to follow. Then again, Xarian was probably not going to win.

But up he stood, against all good reason, striding out into the yard as Gerrard's blocky face broadened into its customary grin, stupid and cruel. Next victim up. Xarian helped Timothy stand and turned to face the big man, remembering his technique, remembering his footwork. It was not going to be enough. Not against someone of Borresquieu's skill and raw power. As the greatswords clashed and onlookers shouted, Xarian retreated a step, then three more, parrying and countering for all he was worth. Even scoring a grazing hit that turned the big man's face red with surprise and anger as Xarian's owl familiar, Pommel flapped her wings in Gerrard's face. Almost.. almost... Xarian gestured frantically and booming energy began to sheathe his opponent, but fizzled before it could coalesce. Ducking the big man's counterattack, he fell back hastily and set his stance again, gritting his teeth.

Everyone knew it could not last. Gerrard Borresquieu had a mountain's weight of training, strength and far superior parentage. The comfort and confidence of someone who knew his place in life as sure as the autumn snows in northern Aelira. As the first flakes began to fall, the big man feinted and slipped past Xarian's parry, which came a split second slow this time. Gerrard's swing was not a sparring blow, but one to break ribs. Maybe crush a lung. Kill, even. Borresquieu grinned toothily once again in anticipation.

And then roared suddenly in surprise.

A strange, blue arcane shield turned the blade aside as Xarian desperately took one hand off his greatsword and splayed his fingers in a frantic warding gesture, off balance and falling backward, hardly understanding what he was doing. As far as Borresquieu was concerned, this was the last straw. Unforgivable.

"WHY DON'T YOU BLOODY APPLY TO THAT POINTY HAT, BOOK-FONDLING ACADEMY YOU POX-RIDDEN HALF-BREED SON OF A WHORE! THE SPARRING YARD IS NO BLOODY PLACE FOR MAGIC."

And so Xarian had. Applied to the academy, that is. Once he was able to move again after the beating that Gerrard Borresquieu had proceeded to lay on him in his wrath.

Xarian just hadn't expected they would actually let him in...

Hulrus is a dwarf. He comes from a clan, as many dwarves do. His clan is, however, a very traditional clan; when it comes to magic, they trust only the divine, and all forms of the arcane are almost unheard of. Well, at least they were.

Hulrus didn't put as much value into the gods as the rest of his clan. He saw the minor magics of the couple Clerics that worked in the clan and figured there must be a better way of achieving a similar result. He carefully studied the hand motions and incantations that always preceded miracles, scribing his notes onto a slab of stone in his off time at his job as a stonemason. As he spent more time studying, and some time practicing as well, what started as a single slab of simple text became a collection of hypotheses and diagrams on the nature of magic. When he successfully executed his first cantrip, he was ecstatic. He kept on studying, practicing, and adding new slabs of arcane knowledge to his collection, until he spent less time working than practicing and become somewhat of a recluse. Whispers circulated of him becoming a madman.

When word came of orcish armies marching in to raid the clan, Hulrus knew that his skills could do much more to protect his clan than those of an average soldier. He started to trained his body as well as his arcane powers. When the orcs arrived and stormed the gates of the mountain, the entire clan was sure Hulrus had gone insane. He marched into battle clad in no armor, wielding a needle-thin rapier and a heavy set of bound stone slabs instead of the warhammers and shields the rest of the army held. When he entered combat, however, the practical elements of magic were well displayed. The blows that Hulrus did not swiftly dodge all seemed to be driven away by his mere presence, and waves of orcs were sent flying when he uttered an incantation. Each of his strikes were calculated, precise, and augmented with a thunderous ripple.

After the battle, the clan began to see the value in the arcane. They desired for Hulrus to learn more so that he could be a protector to the clan (while Hulrus desired to learn more simply because of curiosity), and a letter explaining his situation was carried far to the only magical academy famous enough to reach the ears of the unaware clansmen: the Thearrothen Observatory. When the invitation letter came back, it was a joyous occasion for Hulrus and his family. Hulrus didn't honestly think he would ever be invited, figuring his self-taught practices could go against more orthodox methods and his soldierly background could stand out like a sore thumb amongst the scholars, but the invitation letter disregarded these things in favor of supporting "diversity" within the university. Needless to say, Hulrus set off towards the Thearrothen Archipelago without a second thought.

If you ask him, Pietro will tell you that he was pulled out of a hat by a Hill Giant Wizard, who taught him magic. In reality, he was a normal Harengon who had an obsession from an early age. He wanted to be a stage magician. He studied some card tricks and simple illusions, but quickly realized unless he learned real magic, he wouldn’t be able to hold anyone’s interest. Unfortunately for Pietro, he had nobody who could teach him. After some time, he was able to learn a small amount of magic to use for his shows. When he became old enough, he began traveling to nearby towns and putting on small magic shows to make some money. One shopkeeper had no money to pay for the show but gave him a small ring that he had difficulty selling. Pietro put on the ring and was contacted by the Djinni, who enjoyed Pietro’s displays of magic. The Djinni helped Pietro expand his magical abilities. As he became more well known, Pietro received an invitation to the academy on Weskeilia.

“Have you heard?” Fizban asks the student in front of him while the professor in Transmutation 101 scribbles the names of the cantrips associated to the four elements on the blackboard. “They admitted a lion-folk from the far south," was the student's eager reply. Fizban adds enthusiastically, "And they should arrive today!” A third one from a row back chimes in and whispers: “Can you imagine someone with claws and teeth like daggers stalking through the corridors here? And it is said that they still devour prey raw... All savages if you ask me.” -- PAP!! -- The crack of a stick slapping onto Fizban's desk snaps the students back to attention. "Fizban, would you please share with us which of the four cantrips that manipulate elements requires a vocal component? Hmm?" the professor inquires with a wounded smile. Fizban couldn't for the life of him remember even the names of these cantrips and was too nervous to chance a glance at the blackboard behind the professor and so the moment stretched out uncomfortably long. Fizban offering no more than a blank, slowly reddening face until... "ROOOOOAAAAR!!!"

Xemnon has been living with his tribe for some twenty years and had never, ever needed to leave their territory. Until now. It all happened so fast. At first all was normal and he was normal, but then, one day, his anger fuelled something ancient and strange things happened around him when he let himself drift into rage. So far nothing bad has happened, he just could suddenly teleport, or enhance his defences or attacks, or hurl bolts of light from his chest. Altogether, nothing bad so far but who is to say it will not get worse? Who can be sure he isn't possessed and will lose control eventually. Leonins can be a superstitious people and his behaviour had never been seen before, or so claim the elders.  Soon he will know what afflicts him, now, that he arrived at the academy. He must find out and learn to control it. After all, his tribe had gathered the horrendous amount that the academy had asked for his tuition fee. In his best clothing he entered the majestic building, looking for the reception to register and, hopefully, immediately start his lessons. The grandeur of the architecture humbled him and he felt as if he shrunk a few inches just by entering. He mustn't dither, he reminded himself, and cast aside the feeling of belittlement. Fortunately, large signs facilitate to locate the registration and he found it easily enough. Perhaps too easy, as there were already a queue of two others who appeared to look for the same. Confident he passed them and knocked on the door of the secretary who opened tense and mustered him before barking in his face: "You're new? Want to register? Wait in line for your turn!" Then the door slammed shut again. Rebuffed, he grumbled unintelligibly into his mane and assumed a stand at the door with his nerves floundering. Suddenly someone tapped his shoulder and instinctively he swung around nearly throwing a punch at ... just another person waiting. "What?" he hissed. "We," the person gestured to his companion-in-waiting, "would appreciate if you respected the order and assume your position at the end of the queue." Xemnon glared at the two but let his anger simmer lower and stepped behind them waiting for them to finish first. Moments later, a young half elf arrived and stepped in line behind Xemnon. After a few minutes he asked if someone can share a writing feather, which the first one in line offered, so he went to get it. And there he stayed, rummaging in his pack, conversing leisurely with the chap and taking notes, all the while anger slowly boiled up within Xemnon. Then it opened the door, three new students left and the secretary called out, "The next three, please, come in." And the three closest to the door made a move to enter, when Xemnon's anger manifested in a resounding "ROOOOOAAAAR!!!"

Kaelan grew up in a small village on the outskirts of the Thearrothen Peninsula. From a young age, he was fascinated by the way things moved and the forces that governed their motion. He spent hours tinkering with toys and contraptions, trying to understand how they worked and how he could make them move in new and interesting ways.

As he got older, Kaelan's natural curiosity led him to study the arcane arts. He discovered that he had a talent for manipulating gravitational forces, and he quickly became obsessed with exploring the possibilities of this magic.

When he received an invitation to study at the Thearrothen Observatory, Kaelan couldn't believe his luck. He had heard stories about the academy's prestigious reputation and the incredible knowledge that was available to those who studied there. Now, he had the opportunity to learn from some of the greatest wizards in the realm.

Kaelan's studies at the observatory have focused on the theory and practice of graviturgy, as well as other arcane arts such as divination and transmutation. He has learned how to manipulate the gravitational field around objects, causing them to float or fall with ease. He has also learned how to bend the laws of physics to his will, creating portals and warping space-time itself.

What sets Kaelan apart from other wizards is his innovative approach to magic. He sees the world in terms of the forces that govern it, and he is always looking for new and interesting ways to manipulate those forces to achieve his goals. Whether he is designing a new device to aid in his magical experiments or using his powers to traverse difficult terrain, Kaelan is constantly pushing the boundaries of what is possible with graviturgy magic.

As a student at the Thearrothen Observatory, Kaelan has access to a wealth of knowledge about the arcane arts. He is constantly seeking out new spells and techniques to add to his repertoire, and he takes advantage of every opportunity to learn from his fellow wizards. Despite his brilliance, Kaelan remains humble and open to new ideas, recognizing that there is always more to learn.

Overall, Kaelan is a talented and innovative Graviturgy Wizard with a passion for exploring the mysteries of the universe. His unique approach to magic and his willingness to learn make him a valuable member of the Thearrothen Observatory community, and he is sure to accomplish great things in the years to come.

Colson started his life believing that he was a halfling who was blessed by the gods with the ability to fly. He grew up in a normal halfling village that showed him nothing but kindness and love despite him being an orphan. He went to school like everyone else, got a job as a jeweler and found his first love. They adopted kids and he was able to raise them up and show the love he felt in his childhood. He had to watch the love of his life and his children grow old while he was physically the same. In the later years of his family's life Colson began to go to temptals and talk to clerics to understand which God would give him this cruel gift. Alast, no one could give him an answer. Coloson began to create items using his knowledge of gems to try to make the life of his children easier as they grew to weak to walk.

When his last son died, Colson did not remarry but devoted himself to understanding the unknown. We began researching and reading every book there was on eternal life, on the condition the he had. Once again he did not find a satisfactory answer. Colson told himself, if he could not untangle the past then he will find a way to not be surprised by the future.

Many years have pasted and he finally got accepted in the leading school in Weskeilia. It was there that he found out what he was, it was there that he saw other fairy folk. Sadly instead of feeling releaved, Colson only was left with more question. Colson knows that the only way to truly get out of the tragic comdey he was a part of he had put fate into his own hands. 

Etheria Jaunt was investigating a wild magic vortex in the Astral Plane when she was accidentally hit by a magic surge.

She was thrown into a pocket dimension, where she drifted unconscious for thousands of years. In a chance occurrence, her pocket dimension wandered close to Weskeilia on the Material Plane and ruptured.

Etheria woke in a new place and a new time with everyone she knew gone.

She is striving to put her world back together. Wondering with her steel companion, Bastion, they help wherever her talents could lend a hand whether that be fixing a plow or aiding a midwife in a difficult birth.

The wheel of Karma has favored her in this cycle. It was a great blessing to be invited to the Thearrothen Observatory. Etheria only dreamed in her travels she could again study the essence of raw magic she feels all around her. 

She looks forward to the days ahead!