Camp Curse

Plotline: Main

Type: Magic, Interaction

It was less a group and more a procession, easily more than a hundred people. As body-keeper to Madonna, I was toward the front.

"Remember." Madonna said. "Channel nothing directly into the ritual. Feed me mana, but don't touch this curse directly."

I took a look at the sheer size and scope of the hearth ritual they were forging. I'm sure they had a more formal name for the particular ritual, but..."

"It's beautiful." I said.

"Focus, you idiot. And this is nothing, just a tier eight. We'd use this thing as pavement in the Hells. If you want to see things that put this to shame, come by when your life is over."

"Tier eight?" I asked. "Even if you started with only tier three mana, that's a minimum of … three, nine, twenty-seven... uh... eighty one?"