MAGIC ROLEPLAY

In Requiem: Act VII, casting magic isn't just a mechanical action—it's a profound, often harrowing experience that weighs on the caster's mind, body, and soul. Since the system revolves around reciting mantras (sequences of Power Words) to channel Principatus (the ancient language of creation), every spell feels like tapping into something vast and unpredictable. The world of Vitateus is low-fantasy, so magic isn't flashy or effortless; it's gritty, risky, and tied to philosophical Arcanas that shape how the caster perceives reality. Here's how it might play out in RP, from the caster’s POV—think mental strain, emotional highs/lows, and long-term tolls. I'll break it down by what happens during casting and what the character might think or feel.

When you recite a mantra, you're not just speaking words—you’re invoking Eden's fundamental language, pulling on threads of creation. The process starts with a buildup: your voice resonates oddly, like echoing in a vast cave, and the air thickens with an invisible pressure. Your morium (a crystal focus) warms or pulses, drawing mana from your body, which feels like a slow drain—your limbs heavy, breath short, as if you're pouring your essence into the void. As the spell forms, physical effects kick in. For a simple cantrip, it’s a tingle in your fingertips or a brief warmth. For a diction (rare spell), it's more intense: your skin crawls, veins throb, and shadows seem to shift. Parlances (epic spells) can be overwhelming—your vision blurs, ears ring with whispers, and you might taste blood or ash. Whispering a mantra feels intimate, like murmuring a secret to the wind, reducing the strain but weakening the result. Yelling it is explosive, your voice booming unnaturally, leaving you hoarse and drained. Morium failure is a nightmare: a sudden snap, like a string breaking inside you, followed by an explosion of pain—mana backlash that leaves burns, headaches, or hallucinations. Critical failures twist your mind, planting doubts or visions of the Thirteenth (the dark Archangel).

During the Buildup: “The words feel heavy on my tongue, like they're pulling from deep inside. My mind races—am I saying it right? The morium hums, warm against my skin, and for a moment, I feel connected to something bigger, like the world's listening. But there's that twinge of fear—what if it snaps?”

During the Release: “Power surges, my veins burn like fire, and the world bends—shadows stretch, air shimmers. It's exhilarating, like holding lightning, but exhausting, a pull on my soul. I think, 'This is it, the edge of creation,' but underneath, there's doubt: 'Am I wielding it, or is it wielding me?'”

Aftermath: “The spell fades, leaving me hollow, mana regenerating slowly like a wound healing. My thoughts linger—did I feel the Thirteenth's whisper? Or was it just fatigue? Casting changes you; each mantra leaves a mark, a crack in the mind.”

Repeated casting erodes the caster’s psyche. Divine Arcanas might bring euphoria, a sense of divine purpose, but overuse leads to fanaticism or burnout. Paganistic feels primal, like channeling nature’s fury, but it can make you feral or disconnected from society. Diabolism is seductive, whispering promises of power, but risks madness or corruption—casters might hallucinate voices or feel their soul darken.

Overall, magic in RP is a double-edged sword: empowering but taxing, making casters introspective or paranoid. They might obsess over mantras, fearing fizzle as a sign of divine disfavor, or see every shadow as a Torment omen. It’s a path of isolation—mages are feared or hunted, so they hide their art, adding to the mental strain.