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Escaping Ravenrock's Academy
A little picture I drew for 
Blackwell featuring a student turning into a raccoon after using a little magic trinket to escape Ravenrock's Academy. Perhaps it didn't go as planned...
Story © Blackwell
Escaping Ravenrock's Academy
You don't have to be a scholar know that memories and ideas fade with age, even those that are most cherished and important. During his tenure at the Royal Mage's Academy at Ravenrock, Randall Blackwell encountered many animancers and thaumaturges who desperately tried to preserve their every thought and idea. Mind-enhancing supplements, thought recording spells, even magical devices built to extract and contain memories, no technique was considered taboo. To unlock the secrets of the arcane, they say, one must first learn to control their own thoughts.
To Randall, all those practices seemed like such a waste of time. He didn't need any sort of arcane contrivance to keep his most important memories. Thoughts of home were what drove him, the dense trees, cool streams and bright,grassy hills of the kirklands. Randall's grandfather, a bard of some renown, had settled there and raised a family after he'd had his fill of adventure. He built an inn there, furthering his family trade by hearing new stories and spinning them into wild, vivid tales. Randall's sorcerous talent had manifested early, strong enough that he couldn't escape the academy's notice. He was taken away, sequestered at Ravenrock for a lifetime of study. While the academy promised him a comfortable and regimented life, he still clung to those thoughts of his childhood as he matured, remembering his true family. Rather than fading over time, those memories only seemed to grow fresher and sharper with each passing year.
Few outsiders understood just how strictly the academy punishes dissent, and for good reason. Those who crossed the academy tended to disappear without a trace. The Royal Academy's purpose was to control magic, after all, and the only way to control it is to control those that practice it. Randall understood the rules of the academy well, and he continued to preach the doctrine as he grew from a shy student to a confident teacher. But as time wore on, Randall felt a strange melancholy overtake him. For all the breakthroughs he had made and all the successes he had won, the Ravenrock Academy felt more like a prison.
Randall knew that trying to escape the academy was worse than foolish. He had even lectured his own students on the importance of the academy's structure and regimentation. Yet the thought of home never left his mind even as he memorized scores of tomes and texts. The day would come that he would escape, free to return to the family that he had promised to never see again. And with it, he'd be free to practice his magic without any of those harsh controls and restrictions.
Surprisingly, it was Randall's own mentor, the staunchly conservative Erron Sedgewick who showed him the path to freedom. Hidden within the academy's vaults was a powerful amulet that could not only teleport the wearer to any location they desired but even hide all traces of their existence. Randall wasn't sure why Magister Sedgewick would know about such a blasphemously powerful artifact, but he knew that he would have it for himself. His research took a new turn as Randall used every entitlement that he could to dredge up the records of the amulet and its location in the vaults, yet even the name of the artifact had been stricken from the records.
Months of research turned up little more than empty frustration. But then a most curious thing turned up on Randall's desk: a glittering golden amulet with a ruby facet and an inscribed leather strap. It was an immeasurably precious piece of jewelry even if it wasn't magical, yet the enchantment on it was so powerful that even attempting to scry upon it gave him a terrible nosebleed. Nothing could be this powerful except the very amulet that he had been searching for! Randall realized that he must have made a powerful friend, someone who had noticed his search in spite of his best attempts to cover it, someone at the highest levels of authority who could retrieve such an item. Randall wasn't about to question the motives of his hidden benefactor. This was a gift more precious than any that he could have imagined! He packed his satchel with his spellbook and sparse supplies, then he replaced his scholarly robes with simple traveler's attire and a forest green cloak. To think that he would finally be free!
Without leaving a note or anything else that could be used to trace his disappearance, Randall picked up the amulet's leather strap and held it in his trembling hands. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and slipped it over his neck. All that power flowed into him in that instant, filling his mind with expansive knowledge of the world around him. He could see great flowing rivers, mountains, oceans, forests and deserts, surging through his mind's eye faster than he could comprehend. To think that he could be anywhere, literally anywhere in a single instant! And yet despite all those options he could only think of one place that he wanted to be.
He focused on his memories, his thoughts of home, that place that had always been so precious to him. He could smell the fresh, cool breeze, hear the rustling leaves and the distant tapping of woodpeckers. He pictured the tall reeds and fresh water. Without realizing that anything had happened, Randall was already there. As he slowly opened his eyes he was left with a feeling of shock and disbelief. It had actually worked! Gone were the looming shelves and old gothic stairwells of the academy. He frantically patted at the ground to make sure he wasn't just imagining what had happened. As he felt the damp grass against his palms, he could only laugh.
That moment of freedom was so exhilarating that Randall didn't notice that the amulet was glowing brighter and hotter, its magic shifting towards a cruel new purpose. He stood up and looked towards the hill upon where his family's inn stood, yet there was nothing to be seen. Even the winding road that once played host to merchants and travelers was gone. His home was just an empty hillside. He choked back a wail of grief as a strange scratchiness spread through his throat. The amulet's glow brightened as the leather strap was stick to him, impossible to remove no matter how much he tugged at it or tried to pull it back up.
Poor Randall had been so excited to win his freedom that he never thought to question just why the amulet had been given to him in the first place. Thick tufts of silvery fur spilled out across his neck, blanketing his skin as he coughed and sputtered. Pressure built at the back of his throat, spreading with an ache and an itch to the tip of his lengthening tongue. The magic spread through his body with frightening speed, surging through his body faster than he could react. He never would have imagined that the fabled amulet was actually the reason for the disappearances of those who opposed the academy. It wouldn't just send the poor fool to a distant land, it would reshape their very being into something small and powerless, some wild creature that would never be capable of betraying the academy's secrets.
The signs of transmutation magic were easy to recognize but the sheer power of the curse broke Randall's confidence. Still, he wouldn't go down without a fight. He threw off his satchel and frantically paged through his spellbook, looking for his most powerful counter-curses. His fingers ached and thickened as he flipped through page after page until he finally found what he was looking for. By then his fingers were already padded and leathery, plump at the tips. His nails curled into sharp, slender claws before his very eyes. He tried to focus on the magic but he kept getting distracted by the feeling of the paper against his leathery skin. His fingers were impossibly sensitive, sprouting small whiskery hairs that could feel out the tiniest details. He pressed his padded palms against the page and rubbed it up and down. The rough feel of the parchment was so pleasant that it sent a shiver up his spine.
He could feel himself beginning to lose focus, just as he could feel the gentle rustling of soft fur spreading down his chest and up across his cheeks. It sprouted in layers, starting with soft, dense underfur before growing out into coarse grey guard hairs that prickled and itched against the inside of his tunic. He slapped himself across the face to try to get his focus back, hitting himself so hard that he broke one of the thick whiskers that was sprouting from the side of his upper lip. He yelped with shock at how sensitive his whiskers were but the sheer surprise of it was all he needed to get his focus back. He returned to his spell, reading through the ancient letters as he focused on every word and concept, guiding the magic to break his curse.
Summoning every scrap of power that he could muster, Randall put all his effort into his counterspell, conjuring a powerful white energy that could shatter enchantments and break even powerful curses. Despite his shaken confidence, Randall's spell just might have worked, or at least it would have if he could still speak. But his careful chanting quickly turned to frantic chittering, scattering the spells focus as soothing light dissipated. He tossed his spellbook onto the grass and frantically patted at his throat, combing his clawed fingers through his fur. He chirped and chittered as he tested his voice and tried to find his words again but panic only made his chest tighten. He had failed!
The amulet glowed even brighter as Randall lost his will to resist. His thick, striped tail thrashed and drooped defensively and his sensitive nose could pick out the sharp, tangy scent of his own distress. He felt pinned down by his own clothing, trapped and constrained, totally exposed. The feeling only worsened as the amulet started shrinking him down slowly but steadily, his sensitive paws sliding up towards his sleeves. It was simply too much for him to bear as he kicked off his boots one by one and clenched his clawed, leathery toes, knowing that there was nothing more that he could do. Opening his slender, toothy muzzle opened wide, he let out a grumble of distress. His fur fluffed up anxiously, bristling around his tail and raising up in an arch across his sloped back.
Randall's eyes were wide and wild as he looked up at the trees the lined edge of the forest, searching for a place to hide. His thoughts were frantic and scattered, tangled between his analytical human mind and the cunning impulses of the creature he was fated to become. Mere minutes had passed and he was already far more a raccoon than a man, his dark eyes peering out from a thick mask of dark fur. He kept twitching and kneading at his clothing as he tumbled back, shrinking down inch by inch until he could barely stand up higher than two feet tall. His bones ached as his body turned squat and compact, yet he gained a surprising flexibility. His skin was loose and his muscles were lithe and strong, athletic in ways that he had never felt. But he was still very much in shock, his little heart fluttering as he panted and trembled.
Mere moments after the curse had been completed, the amulet vanished from around Randall's neck just as suddenly as it had appeared. It no doubt returned to the Royal Academy where it could be used again on some other wishful thinker who carried hopes of escape. And so the raccoon was left alone in an empty field that so closely resembled his old home. The sheer shock of the situation sent Randall scurrying up the nearest tree, where he hid for days, shivering and shaking. Hunger soon coaxed him back down, but the meagre rations that he packed didn't keep him fed for long even with his smaller size. His life became a struggle for survival for a time, as he foraged for grubs under the moist earth and endured the angry swooping of birds as he liberated their nests of their eggs. He even found fresh minnows in the nearby stream, a tasty snack that also gave him a good excuse to douse his paws.
Without even realizing it he had found that feeling of home that he had craved so deeply, that memory that he had clung to for all those years at the academy. Although he still felt a lingering regret for his foolishness and he worried about what might have become of his family, he could find peace by continuing to survive and even thrive. Though his human life had come to an end, this is only the beginning of Randall Blackwell's story. After coming to terms with his new form, he'd meet many strange people and find himself in many more adventures. He'd even come to regain some of his lost power, all while doing his best to stay hidden from the academy's pervasive reach.
===
Work with Promarkers on A5 paper (14.8*21 cm)
Hope you'll enjoy this one! =)
Blackwell featuring a student turning into a raccoon after using a little magic trinket to escape Ravenrock's Academy. Perhaps it didn't go as planned...Story © Blackwell
Escaping Ravenrock's Academy
You don't have to be a scholar know that memories and ideas fade with age, even those that are most cherished and important. During his tenure at the Royal Mage's Academy at Ravenrock, Randall Blackwell encountered many animancers and thaumaturges who desperately tried to preserve their every thought and idea. Mind-enhancing supplements, thought recording spells, even magical devices built to extract and contain memories, no technique was considered taboo. To unlock the secrets of the arcane, they say, one must first learn to control their own thoughts.
To Randall, all those practices seemed like such a waste of time. He didn't need any sort of arcane contrivance to keep his most important memories. Thoughts of home were what drove him, the dense trees, cool streams and bright,grassy hills of the kirklands. Randall's grandfather, a bard of some renown, had settled there and raised a family after he'd had his fill of adventure. He built an inn there, furthering his family trade by hearing new stories and spinning them into wild, vivid tales. Randall's sorcerous talent had manifested early, strong enough that he couldn't escape the academy's notice. He was taken away, sequestered at Ravenrock for a lifetime of study. While the academy promised him a comfortable and regimented life, he still clung to those thoughts of his childhood as he matured, remembering his true family. Rather than fading over time, those memories only seemed to grow fresher and sharper with each passing year.
Few outsiders understood just how strictly the academy punishes dissent, and for good reason. Those who crossed the academy tended to disappear without a trace. The Royal Academy's purpose was to control magic, after all, and the only way to control it is to control those that practice it. Randall understood the rules of the academy well, and he continued to preach the doctrine as he grew from a shy student to a confident teacher. But as time wore on, Randall felt a strange melancholy overtake him. For all the breakthroughs he had made and all the successes he had won, the Ravenrock Academy felt more like a prison.
Randall knew that trying to escape the academy was worse than foolish. He had even lectured his own students on the importance of the academy's structure and regimentation. Yet the thought of home never left his mind even as he memorized scores of tomes and texts. The day would come that he would escape, free to return to the family that he had promised to never see again. And with it, he'd be free to practice his magic without any of those harsh controls and restrictions.
Surprisingly, it was Randall's own mentor, the staunchly conservative Erron Sedgewick who showed him the path to freedom. Hidden within the academy's vaults was a powerful amulet that could not only teleport the wearer to any location they desired but even hide all traces of their existence. Randall wasn't sure why Magister Sedgewick would know about such a blasphemously powerful artifact, but he knew that he would have it for himself. His research took a new turn as Randall used every entitlement that he could to dredge up the records of the amulet and its location in the vaults, yet even the name of the artifact had been stricken from the records.
Months of research turned up little more than empty frustration. But then a most curious thing turned up on Randall's desk: a glittering golden amulet with a ruby facet and an inscribed leather strap. It was an immeasurably precious piece of jewelry even if it wasn't magical, yet the enchantment on it was so powerful that even attempting to scry upon it gave him a terrible nosebleed. Nothing could be this powerful except the very amulet that he had been searching for! Randall realized that he must have made a powerful friend, someone who had noticed his search in spite of his best attempts to cover it, someone at the highest levels of authority who could retrieve such an item. Randall wasn't about to question the motives of his hidden benefactor. This was a gift more precious than any that he could have imagined! He packed his satchel with his spellbook and sparse supplies, then he replaced his scholarly robes with simple traveler's attire and a forest green cloak. To think that he would finally be free!
Without leaving a note or anything else that could be used to trace his disappearance, Randall picked up the amulet's leather strap and held it in his trembling hands. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and slipped it over his neck. All that power flowed into him in that instant, filling his mind with expansive knowledge of the world around him. He could see great flowing rivers, mountains, oceans, forests and deserts, surging through his mind's eye faster than he could comprehend. To think that he could be anywhere, literally anywhere in a single instant! And yet despite all those options he could only think of one place that he wanted to be.
He focused on his memories, his thoughts of home, that place that had always been so precious to him. He could smell the fresh, cool breeze, hear the rustling leaves and the distant tapping of woodpeckers. He pictured the tall reeds and fresh water. Without realizing that anything had happened, Randall was already there. As he slowly opened his eyes he was left with a feeling of shock and disbelief. It had actually worked! Gone were the looming shelves and old gothic stairwells of the academy. He frantically patted at the ground to make sure he wasn't just imagining what had happened. As he felt the damp grass against his palms, he could only laugh.
That moment of freedom was so exhilarating that Randall didn't notice that the amulet was glowing brighter and hotter, its magic shifting towards a cruel new purpose. He stood up and looked towards the hill upon where his family's inn stood, yet there was nothing to be seen. Even the winding road that once played host to merchants and travelers was gone. His home was just an empty hillside. He choked back a wail of grief as a strange scratchiness spread through his throat. The amulet's glow brightened as the leather strap was stick to him, impossible to remove no matter how much he tugged at it or tried to pull it back up.
Poor Randall had been so excited to win his freedom that he never thought to question just why the amulet had been given to him in the first place. Thick tufts of silvery fur spilled out across his neck, blanketing his skin as he coughed and sputtered. Pressure built at the back of his throat, spreading with an ache and an itch to the tip of his lengthening tongue. The magic spread through his body with frightening speed, surging through his body faster than he could react. He never would have imagined that the fabled amulet was actually the reason for the disappearances of those who opposed the academy. It wouldn't just send the poor fool to a distant land, it would reshape their very being into something small and powerless, some wild creature that would never be capable of betraying the academy's secrets.
The signs of transmutation magic were easy to recognize but the sheer power of the curse broke Randall's confidence. Still, he wouldn't go down without a fight. He threw off his satchel and frantically paged through his spellbook, looking for his most powerful counter-curses. His fingers ached and thickened as he flipped through page after page until he finally found what he was looking for. By then his fingers were already padded and leathery, plump at the tips. His nails curled into sharp, slender claws before his very eyes. He tried to focus on the magic but he kept getting distracted by the feeling of the paper against his leathery skin. His fingers were impossibly sensitive, sprouting small whiskery hairs that could feel out the tiniest details. He pressed his padded palms against the page and rubbed it up and down. The rough feel of the parchment was so pleasant that it sent a shiver up his spine.
He could feel himself beginning to lose focus, just as he could feel the gentle rustling of soft fur spreading down his chest and up across his cheeks. It sprouted in layers, starting with soft, dense underfur before growing out into coarse grey guard hairs that prickled and itched against the inside of his tunic. He slapped himself across the face to try to get his focus back, hitting himself so hard that he broke one of the thick whiskers that was sprouting from the side of his upper lip. He yelped with shock at how sensitive his whiskers were but the sheer surprise of it was all he needed to get his focus back. He returned to his spell, reading through the ancient letters as he focused on every word and concept, guiding the magic to break his curse.
Summoning every scrap of power that he could muster, Randall put all his effort into his counterspell, conjuring a powerful white energy that could shatter enchantments and break even powerful curses. Despite his shaken confidence, Randall's spell just might have worked, or at least it would have if he could still speak. But his careful chanting quickly turned to frantic chittering, scattering the spells focus as soothing light dissipated. He tossed his spellbook onto the grass and frantically patted at his throat, combing his clawed fingers through his fur. He chirped and chittered as he tested his voice and tried to find his words again but panic only made his chest tighten. He had failed!
The amulet glowed even brighter as Randall lost his will to resist. His thick, striped tail thrashed and drooped defensively and his sensitive nose could pick out the sharp, tangy scent of his own distress. He felt pinned down by his own clothing, trapped and constrained, totally exposed. The feeling only worsened as the amulet started shrinking him down slowly but steadily, his sensitive paws sliding up towards his sleeves. It was simply too much for him to bear as he kicked off his boots one by one and clenched his clawed, leathery toes, knowing that there was nothing more that he could do. Opening his slender, toothy muzzle opened wide, he let out a grumble of distress. His fur fluffed up anxiously, bristling around his tail and raising up in an arch across his sloped back.
Randall's eyes were wide and wild as he looked up at the trees the lined edge of the forest, searching for a place to hide. His thoughts were frantic and scattered, tangled between his analytical human mind and the cunning impulses of the creature he was fated to become. Mere minutes had passed and he was already far more a raccoon than a man, his dark eyes peering out from a thick mask of dark fur. He kept twitching and kneading at his clothing as he tumbled back, shrinking down inch by inch until he could barely stand up higher than two feet tall. His bones ached as his body turned squat and compact, yet he gained a surprising flexibility. His skin was loose and his muscles were lithe and strong, athletic in ways that he had never felt. But he was still very much in shock, his little heart fluttering as he panted and trembled.
Mere moments after the curse had been completed, the amulet vanished from around Randall's neck just as suddenly as it had appeared. It no doubt returned to the Royal Academy where it could be used again on some other wishful thinker who carried hopes of escape. And so the raccoon was left alone in an empty field that so closely resembled his old home. The sheer shock of the situation sent Randall scurrying up the nearest tree, where he hid for days, shivering and shaking. Hunger soon coaxed him back down, but the meagre rations that he packed didn't keep him fed for long even with his smaller size. His life became a struggle for survival for a time, as he foraged for grubs under the moist earth and endured the angry swooping of birds as he liberated their nests of their eggs. He even found fresh minnows in the nearby stream, a tasty snack that also gave him a good excuse to douse his paws.
Without even realizing it he had found that feeling of home that he had craved so deeply, that memory that he had clung to for all those years at the academy. Although he still felt a lingering regret for his foolishness and he worried about what might have become of his family, he could find peace by continuing to survive and even thrive. Though his human life had come to an end, this is only the beginning of Randall Blackwell's story. After coming to terms with his new form, he'd meet many strange people and find himself in many more adventures. He'd even come to regain some of his lost power, all while doing his best to stay hidden from the academy's pervasive reach.
===
Work with Promarkers on A5 paper (14.8*21 cm)
Hope you'll enjoy this one! =)
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Transformation
Species Raccoon
Size 1258 x 900px
File Size 1.54 MB
Listed in Folders
Let's be honest, there are far worse punishments, and this really doesn't seem that bad! He gets to be cute lil' critter, that's always a plus. :3c
This is a fantastic piece! The scenery is gorgeous, I love his expression, and that companion story Blackwell wrote is perfect. Lovely, as usual. ^^
This is a fantastic piece! The scenery is gorgeous, I love his expression, and that companion story Blackwell wrote is perfect. Lovely, as usual. ^^
Thanks again for all this! I've probably gushed enough about how much I like this illustration but I still can't help myself, especially seeing how spot-on the marker work is. There's something wonderful about seeing my dreams and fantasies realized with such care and detail. It's been truly inspiring!
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