You can win FTB swag!

Win this hat or one item of your choice from our shop.

How to enter:

Comment on this post with a story of real life magic in your own life. Tell us a complete story, not just a one-line comment. There are two comment fields you can use. The first is facebook comments, in case you feel like writing on your FB profile as well, the second can only be seen on this blog. Use either one! read more

Horomancy part 1

Blue-green sparks jumped from finger to finger as Maeve wove the complex spell around her Turing smartphone. The phone was securely cryptographically encoded, it could only be used to place calls to another Turing unit that had the matching key, and her spell would ensure that it was magically unhackable as well. A component of the spell was a cypher cube, a magical object holding both the cryptographic and magical keys to the phone.
read more

Looking for site admins

Hey Free Trader Beowulf community, I created this site and I’m not finding the time to do the administration well. If you’d like to be an admin, let me know by commenting on this post. You can also send me an email through the contact page. I really want to see the site flourish, and that’s possible through creating more content. Please let me know if you have the skills time and interest and would like to admin this site, then we’ll talk more.

 

All the best, Isaac

The Blind Palm

Gunpowder in the tray. A flash of light. Face obscured.

Suddenly I’m awake. Same dream again. The bedclothes twisted around me, drenched in sweat. Glance at my father’s watch loose on my wrist: Late for school again. Fuck it.

Aunt Maude’s solution to my problems. The Gravesend prep school.

I pack my bag. Reach out to touch the book on my nightstand. The World in the Walls. I should just leave it here, but I can’t put it down. Some addictive flood of strength from riffling the pages.

I step from the platform onto the Gravesend train, thirty minutes late. So I’ll miss assembly. I’ll miss them shouting and clapping in unison, miss the stupid shuffling mascot, felt feet building up static on the polished gym floor. It’s supposed to be a goshawk. Looks like one of the filthy city pigeons.

#BATTLETHEBEAST

You can enter the contest here: BattleTheBeast

The way had been shut, the Neitherlands were shattered for all Quentin knew. The Beast didn’t need to kill them, he had simply used them. Now that he had attained the power he sought they didn’t matter anymore. In Fillory, they had been hiding at the faun’s house, underground, beneath the roots of a massive clock tree. They had been so arrogant; they were proud of the battle magic Penny had learned. “My THAC0 is on fleek.” Janet laughed, casting magic missile at a row of bottles. THAC0 (to hit armor class zero) had become a running gag after Quentin explained what it was. That evening they gathered wild mushrooms and cooked them in a big iron pot in the faun’s fireplace. They had feasted and gotten drunk on Fillorian honey wine. Now he knew. They had been so stupid. The Beast had been there all along, quietly watching them practice and drink and joke about his armor class. read more