u/LikeAMothToStarlight

Salt acts to preserve certain pathways in the mind that would naturally break down and be replaced. As more and more of these pathways form and are maintained through the salt, people will start manifesting psychic limbs that they can learn to control like learning how to manipulate their limbs as a child. By frequently using these limbs one strengthens them and can break human limitations of strength, speed, and endurance just by manifesting them.

However, the stronger these limbs are, the more salt buildup is needed to manifest them. And when one doesn't properly maintain these pathways, they rot and poison the mind, turing the salt wielder feral.

Salt men are the result of those whose minds were poisoned by improper maintenance of their powers. These zombie-like entities consume the salt in the living to power their extreme strength, speed, etc.

I'm also trying to make a reason for survivors to sometimes turn into salt men due to exposure to these energies flooding their system. They would essentially have to consume copious amounts of salt to not turn, making them targets to other salt men.

Rust acts as the memories of metal tools and weapons and can be used to enchant other metal tools and weapons through reintroducing the rust while smithing.

And by continuously rusting and reimplementing memories into metal, one creates a more potent enchantment. For the rust may hold the memories, but fire acts as the catalyst, activating and enhancing the enchantment.

For example, memories of violence might, in the beginning enchant swords to deal wounds that do not heal or strikes that don't miss. As the enchantment progresses in strength and presentation, these slashes may strike at a distance. Eventually, a target may be cut to ribbons just from the wielder touching the sword.

People in my world have taken to rust farming; placing well-used metal weapons or tools into the wet soil to cause it to rust faster. Then they take rust shavings and enchant other weapons or tools via reforging them with the rust. Sometimes those new weapons or tools are sold off, other times they are placed back into the ground to let the memory fester.

As time progressed, people learned to make springs, gears, and other useful mechanisms out of enchanted metal. Allowing not only memories to be stored, but for them to be connected in complex clockwork devices.

To do this, people would create wind-up mechanisms of enchanted metals that interact in a way to create connections between memories. And when a multitude of these memories are active and interacting at the same time, it creates a rudimentary computer.

These computers would enable more complex enchantments and even allow thinking machines that could calculate and manipulate through magic.

For example, weapons that can't be wielded in anger, cameras that can investigate and capture pictures of the mind. And the computers can be independent thinking machines though some do have inputs.

However, there is a strange phenomenon that occurs when rust forms too fast. When rust forms too fast there is a shortage of memories to fill it. That doesn't mean that rust comes up blank though. Instead, the rust will remember things, places, people, that don't exist. And the enchantment of this rust will be all the more anomalous for it.

Called god rust, with it one can forge keys that open doors to places that don't exist. And in computers one can communicate with those that have yet to be born or those long past.

The magic system revolves around rust being magic. The idea being rust holds the memories of metallic tools and weapons based on how they are used. Then these memories can be reintroduced into a metallic tool or weapon through forging the rust into the metal. This is the process of enchantment.

For example, some memories of violence enchant swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of defiance enchant armor to resist damage, some memories of focus enchant hammers that strike more precisely.

And by continuously rusting and reimplementing memories into metal, one creates a more potent enchantment. For the rust may hold the memories, but fire acts as the catalyst, activating and enhancing the enchantment.

However, as time progressed, people learned to make springs, gears, and other useful mechanisms out of enchanted metal. Allowing not only memories to be be stored, but for connection in a complex clockwork device.

Basically, people create wind-up mechanisms of enchanted metals that interact in a way to create connections between memories and when a multitude of these memories are active and interacting at the same time it creates a rudimentary computer.

These computers would enable more complex enchantmants and even allow thinking machines that could calculate and manipulate through magic.

For example, weapons that can not be wielded in anger, cameras that can investigate and capture pictures of the mind. And the computers can be independent thinking machines though some do have inputs.

However, there is a strange phenomenon that occurs when rust forms too fast. When rust forms too fast there is a shortage of memories to fill it. That doesn't mean that rust comes up blank though. Instead the rust will remember things, places, people, that don't exist. And the enchantment of this rust will be all the more anomalous for it.

Called god rust, with it one can forge keys that open doors to places that don't exist. And in computers one can communicate with those that have yet to be born or those long past.

I recently had the preliminary idea for a magic system that revolves around a magic rust being used to enchant metal. The idea being rust holds the memories of metallic tools and weapons based on how they are used. Then these memories can be reintroduced into a metallic tool or weapon through forging the rust into into the metal. This causes enchantment effect in the tool or weapon.

For example, some memories of violence cause swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of defiance cause armor to resist damage, some memories of focus cause hammers that strike more precisely.

However, I also have an older magic system I devised around a magic metal that unleashes its magic by being strained and twisted. The system was vague as to where the magic came from but the idea was that by turning metal into springs allows the metal to be strained and tuned and the magic therein to change and be unleashed. Creating a wand of sorts that can use multiple different types of magic with just simple tools to attune the device.

The mixed magic idea combines a bit of both magic systems. The premise is as time progressed, people learned to make springs, gears, and other useful mechanisms out of the rust-imbued metal. Allowing not only memories to be be stored, but for connection in a complex clockwork device.

Basically, people create wind-up mechanisms of memory infused metals that interact in a way to create connections between memories and have a multitude of these memories active and interacting at the same time. Creating a rudimentary computer hundreds of years before electricity.

These computers would enable more complex enchantmants and even allow thinking machines that could calculate and manipulate through magic.

This eventually leads to machines that try to become human by wearing flesh and hoarding muscles and organs. But hey, no advancement comes without a cost.

I like this idea because it leads to a progression of magic as apposed to keeping a stagnant enchanting system. Idk. I thought it was interesting.

I recently had the preliminary idea for a magic system that revolves around a magic rust being used to enchant metal. The idea being rust holds the memories of metallic tools and weapons based on how they are used. Then these memories can be reintroduced into a metallic tool or weapon through forging the rust into into the metal. This causes enchantment effect in the tool or weapon.

For example, some memories of violence cause swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of defiance cause armor to resist damage, some memories of focus cause hammers that strike more precisely.

However, I also have an older magic system I devised around a magic metal that unleashes its magic by being strained and twisted. The system was vague as to where the magic came from but the idea was that by turning metal into springs allows the metal to be strained and tuned and the magic therein to change and be unleashed. Creating a wand of sorts that can use multiple different types of magic with just simple tools to attune the device.

The mixed magic idea combines a bit of both magic systems. The premise is as time progressed, people learned to make springs, gears, and other useful mechanisms out of the rust-imbued metal. Allowing not only memories to be be stored, but for connection in a complex clockwork device.

Basically, people create wind-up mechanisms of memory infused metals that interact in a way to create connections between memories and have a multitude of these memories active and interacting at the same time. Creating a rudimentary computer hundreds of years before electricity.

These computers would enable more complex enchantmants and even allow thinking machines that could calculate and manipulate through magic.

This eventually leads to machines that try to become human by wearing flesh and hoarding muscles and organs. But hey, no advancement comes without a cost.

I like this idea because it leads to a progression of magic as apposed to keeping a stagnant enchanting system. Idk. I thought it was interesting.

When something in my world burns it isn't completely lost. Instead an impression of what once was exists deep within the ashes. And when stimulated, the ash will take on its shape, weight, consistency, etc. as if becoming that very object.

The basic idea is that by ingesting the ashes of something long dead, you assume it's identity for a short while. Transform yourself into a tree, or a spider, or about anything at all that can be burned. The amount of ash is immaterial to the complexity of the transformation, it only determines the length of the transformation.

The typical amount of time for a handful of ash is around ten to fifteen seconds. However, by mixing different types of ash the transformation can become... interesting.

Complex ash constructs can be unusual, walking trees, multi-headed wolves, a murder of ravens. As long as the various ashes are properly mixed, nothing is truly impossible.

Scars are splits in the flesh that occur from improperly mixed ash. Basically if the ash has too much or too little of one aspect in it, other aspects will be less or more represented. But as you change back, your body will adjust improperly, causing a split in the skin that will permanently retain some aspect of the transformation.

Be it having a wooden arm or a length of feathers that crosses your back.

Grimoires in my world are folded origami models made of dried seaweed. The seaweed is dried with salt, cut thin, and has various symbols inscribed into them before being layered on top of one another to make channels for magic to flow through. Then they are folded into various shapes that catch magic current to allow them to activate. Almost like how circuits are used in computers to route electricity.

These structures are sometimes even made to warp when collecting magic current so that the inscribed channels shift, changing the magic so it change from when it enters to when it leaves.

These grimiores are used to intake information like a sensory organ, then process it, and then return the information. The first models are very simple sensors and computers, but as humanity learned more about this magic, they are eventually implemented into complex tools like prosthetics, cameras, computers, visual and hearing aids, and other devices and vehicles.

I know I'm just reinventing circuitry and electricity, but I'm doing so to fit the esthetic of my world.

Metals in my world are far rarer than in our own, so when a sword or other weapon is broken or rusts, people would attempt to save it or even reforge it, rust and all. Which is how a strange phenomenon was discovered. Rust seems to physically carry the memories of the metal it comes from. And when forged into a new weapon or tool, these memories enhance what the weapon is capable of.

Some memories of violence cause swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of defiance cause armor to resist damage, some memories of focus cause hammers that strike more precisely.

And so, people in my world have taken to rust farming; placing well-used metal weapons or tools into the wet soil to cause it to rust faster. Then they take rust shavings and enchant other weapons or tools via imbuing them with the rust. Sometimes those new weapons or tools are sold off, other times they are placed back into the ground to let the memory fester.

Crossbreeding rusts allow more nuanced enchantments. Such as creating weapons that cannot be wielded in anger, or medical tools that inflict cuts that heal almost instantly.

And the longer a memory is in circulation, the more powerful it becomes. But if a memory is too diluted, it's enchantment may change completely, and the potency will wane. Hence the use of the soil to keep the purity of the enchantment.

Metals in my world are far rarer than in our own, so when a sword or other weapon is broken or rusts, people would attempt to save it or even reforge it, rust and all. Which is how a strange phenomenon was discovered. Rust seems to physically carry the memories of the metal it comes from. And when forged into a new weapon or tool, these memories enhance what the weapon is capable of.

Some memories of violence cause swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of defiance cause armor to resist damage, some memories of focus cause hammers that strike more precisely.

And so, people in my world have taken to rust farming; placing well-used metal weapons or tools into the wet soil to cause it to rust faster. Then they take rust shavings and enchant other weapons or tools via imbuing them with the rust. Sometimes those new weapons or tools are sold off, other times they are placed back into the ground to let the memory fester.

Crossbreeding rusts allow more nuanced enchantments. Such as creating weapons that cannot be wielded in anger, or medical tools that inflict cuts that heal almost instantly.

And the longer a memory is in circulation, the more powerful it becomes. But if a memory is too diluted, it's enchantment may change completely, and the potency will wane. Hence the use of the soil to keep the purity of the enchantment.

Metals in my world are far rarer than in our own, so when a sword or other weapon is broken or rusts, people will attempt to save it or even reforge it rust and all. Which is how a strange phenomenon was discovered. Rust seems to carry the memories of the metal it comes from. And when forged into a new weapon or tool, these memories enhance what the weapon is capable of.

Some memories of violence cause swords to deal wounds that do not heal, some memories of passion or vigor cause hammers to strike harder, some memories of focus cause knives to cut cleaner.

And so, people in my world have taken to metal farming; placing iron or steel weapons or tools into the moist soil to cause it to rust faster. Then they take rust shavings and enchant other weapons or tools via imbuing them with the rust.

Crossbreeding rusts allow more nuanced and powerful enchantments. And the longer a memory is in circulation, the more powerful it becomes.

The idea behind all this is that runes or some mystic language equivalent can be dug into the ground or a flower seed to start the lifecycle of wand.

Basically a the seed starts growing into a wand, a short thin stem that ends in a point. Then it becomes a rod, a harder material structure that ends in a knot or bulb. Then it blooms into a staff, a longer, wooden pole that ends with the knot which has fully bloomed. And finally it wilts into a broom, a staff with the flower wilted and the petals elongated.

Each of these states in the lifecycle change how it can be used. A wand (grows in 5 - 10 days) is precise maneuvering of energy in a space. It has no power of its own, but allows for a great control of objects and energies within the vicinity through a sort of telekinesis.

A rod (grows in 2- 10 weeks) has powerful protective and offensive magics that are determined by the rune on the seed thay it grew from. It can absorb and store energy within the knot and unleash it in small bursts or all at once.

A staff (grows in 1 - 5 years) generates it's own magical energy and can be used to create more complex spells based around the rune that was inscribed into the seed.

A broom (grows in 6+ years) has no magical energy, but instead has the capacity to undo the effects of even the most powerful or complex magics.

The idea behind all this is that runes or some mystic language equivalent can be dug into the ground or a flower seed to start the lifecycle of wand.

Basically a the seed starts growing into a wand, a short thin stem that ends in a point. Then it becomes a rod, a harder material structure that ends in a knot or bulb. Then it blooms into a staff, a longer, wooden pole that ends with the knot which has fully bloomed. And finally it wilts into a broom, a staff with the flower wilted and the petals elongated.

Each of these states in the lifecycle change how it can be used. A wand (grows in 5 - 10 days) is precise maneuvering of energy in a space. It has no power of its own, but allows for a great control of objects and energies within the vicinity through a sort of telekinesis.

A rod (grows in 2- 10 weeks) has powerful protective and offensive magics that are determined by the rune on the seed thay it grew from. It can absorb and store energy within the knot and unleash it in small bursts or all at once.

A staff (grows in 1 - 5 years) generates it's own magical energy and can be used to create more complex spells based around the rune that was inscribed into the seed.

A broom (grows in 6+ years) has no magical energy, but instead has the capacity to undo the effects of even the most powerful or complex magics.

Do this was inspired partially by attack on titan and mermaid mask. The premise is that there are gargantuan magical creatures made of a smoldering wood that have odd formations on their hands that allow them to use magic. However, due to the insidiously hot nature of the wood if you are even touched by these giants, there is a chance of the mark being burnt into your skin as a scar.

The premise is that these fingerprints act as vents to let out a magical aura, creating passive spells for the giants. Such as a forcefield like spell or an aura of extreme heat. The energy that powers these abilities is actually related to the shape of their teeth.

Basically, by consuming a living entity, be it flora, fauna, or something else entirely you gain nourishment in the form of lifeforce, but the giant's teeth allow them to instead seperate the magic inherently in lifeforce. This allows the giants the use of magic by forcing this energy through their fingerprints. These fingerprints acting as blueprints to build a spell.

The people of this world, called Denz, can make tools from these teeth to break down materials into their magical components. Allowing them to craft elixirs to restore the amount of magical energy they have. And later on create potions with magical effects tied into them.

The Denz have a similar evolutionary path as the giants and can use their teeth to generate magical energy. They can use magic of their own by expelling the energy from the vets they have on their fingers. Allowing them to mold the energy into magical spells. Or they can just release the energy into a powerful burst. This allows them to expel large quantities of magic through their fingerprints to move at incredible speeds, strike with immense force, or burn nearby objects.

The way magic might appear is with the fingerprints lighting up and the smoke being expelled from the mouth. However, they can also expel the smoke from their fingertips to cause the movement abilities, but this damages those vents and they need to recover over time.

However, if a Denz is burnt by the hand of a giant, their vents will melt closed. Keeping them from ever using magic again.

The main character is dragged from the regular world by a giant and brought to the world of the Denz through some powerful magic of the giants. They are partially burned and try to find their way home using the scar they were given.

That's about all I have at the moment.

The world I want to make revolves around plants or something similar that grow out of the spill of eldritch energy into our world. Specifically, living creatures become blighted, rapidly mutating and reshaping into strange forms.

Trees will ooze a pale blue substance that forms odd fleshy patterns and structures. Eventually a blighted tree will collapse under its own weight as most of it's internal structure will be completely replaced by a blue gelatinous substance.

Smaller plants grow pale and heavy, spreading out like tendrils on the ground and leaking a putrid clear ichor.

Living creatures that are blighted will grow strange fleshy patterns on their skin, often faces or fingerprints, but other patterns do occur. Their skin will turn raw and eventually start to slough off. And finally they will bury themselves in the fertile soil to feed that which lives beneath.

These are the effects of a blight. But, it is reversible. There are plantlike stalks that can grow from the soils or flesh of these abnormalities. Bred with the singular purpose to dispose of the blight, as these plants grow, they pull blight from flesh and strip corruption from soil. The trick is fighting a blight before it is already too late.

The order is greatly involved in farming these plants so that they may cure blight where they occur. Every member a talented gardener with knowledge of each plant at their disposal. Fighting off a blight is a war of attrition fought in hard labors of the field.

The magic system I want to make revolves around reshaping blight through these plants and extracting it into potions. The premise is that each plant takes some aspect of the blight and amplifies it, while consuming the others. So mixing and matching different combinations of these plants causes blight potions to exist. Hence the invention of the heretical alchemy.

The order reviles alchemy and seeks the execution of any that would use it. But in the project I'm working on, it may be the only way to save a town long blighted from complete collapse.

The world I want to make revolves around plants or something similar that grow out of the spill of eldritch energy into our world. Specifically, living creatures become blighted, rapidly mutating and reshaping into strange forms.

Trees will ooze a pale blue substance that forms odd fleshy patterns and structures. Eventually a blighted tree will collapse under its own weight as most of it's internal structure will be completely replaced by a blue gelatinous substance.

Smaller plants grow pale and heavy, spreading out like tendrils on the ground and leaking a putrid clear ichor.

Living creatures that are blighted will grow strange fleshy patterns on their skin, often faces or fingerprints, but other patterns do occur. Their skin will turn raw and eventually start to slough off. And finally they will bury themselves in the fertile soil to feed that which lives beneath.

These are the effects of a blight. But, it is reversible. There are plantlike stalks that can grow from the soils or flesh of these abnormalities. Bred with the singular purpose to dispose of the blight, as these plants grow, they pull blight from flesh and strip corruption from soil. The trick is fighting a blight before it is already too late.

The order is greatly involved in farming these plants so that they may cure blight where they occur. Every member a talented gardener with knowledge of each plant at their disposal. Fighting off a blight is a war of attrition fought in hard labors of the field.

The magic system I want to make revolves around reshaping blight through these plants and extracting it into potions. The premise is that each plant takes some aspect of the blight and amplifies it, while consuming the others. So mixing and matching different combinations of these plants causes blight potions to exist. Hence the invention of the heretical alchemy.

The order reviles alchemy and seeks the execution of any that would use it. But in the project I'm working on, it may be the only way to save a town long blighted from complete collapse.