Welcome to No Books of Men! We are a modern alternate history board set in a magical school nestled in the Columbiana Valley of the Rocky Mountains. Students of the Collegium Illustrata Columbiana (commonly called simply The Academy) are free to explore their wildest imaginations in learning the mystic arts, so long as it does not jeopardize the ongoing Shadow War with the Exarchs. How will you live up to the legacies of Merlin?






darkkenchild is the Head Admin here at No Books. He enjoys long walks on the beach and debating the metaphysical underpinnings of reality, so any questions about your character , the plot of No Books, and/or how magic works on the site, please do not hesitate to ask him.

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Application: http://nobooksofmen.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=44
Plotter: http://nobooksofmen.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=499
Age: 38
Alias: Tom
Great House: Criamon
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Joined: 6-August 14
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Last Seen: Dec 23 2015, 06:15 PM
Local Time: Jul 22 2018, 05:33 AM
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Tomas Sparks

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Oct 31 2015, 07:18 PM
It had been a long handful of months since his wife had gone missing. No. Not missing. Taken. She had been taken by something, something terrible and inhuman and from outside of this reality. Since she had gone missing that night, snatched from his arms by something that almost human which rode a chariot pulled by something resembling wolves, Tom had barely slept. He had worked tirelessly, researching and working until the literal point of collapse.

He had called in favors long forgotten to obtain the hidebound tomes which contained scattered references and misleading truths about what these things that had taken here. He had made deals with the shadiest sorts of people, and even some not-quite-people, to gather the materials needed to build a gateway to that place. he had even buried his long-standing not-always-friendly rivalry with Jack Gryphon. Indeed, the man had agreed to loan Tom the device and notes that had long ago damned the other man's family and thus allowing Tom to rebuild it for himself. When his device was finished then, and only then, did he put out the call.

It was a simple message, "Those who have the courage and nobility to risk Arcadia's thorns, come to Gryphon's Mystery Shack on the equinox for a rescue mission." It was elegant in its simplicity, which probably made it all too obvious that Tom hadn't written it. Jack had in truth, as Tom had still been teetering on the border of coherence at the time. Fortunately, in the month that had since passed, Tom had finally begun to clean himself up. His depression beard was still present, but he had washed and trimmed its to something resembling order. He had bathed, more than once, and no longer stank of tears and sweat. He had finally started to eat again, thanks in no small part to his daughter and sister-in-law's not-so-gentle ministrations. He had even begun to sleep more often, though his nights were still frequently plagued by nightmares. Nightmares which he used to steel himself and bolster his resolve to continue preparing for the mission.

A mission which would begin tonight. Tom now stood near a large gate which resembled an upended triangle in the basement of the Mystery Shack and was addressing those who had chosen to join his mission tonight. "Thank you for coming. Seriously, this means so much to me that you all chose to join me in this." He paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "I know most of us are not here for purely selfless reasons, that we all have our own personal reasons for doing this. That isn't a weakness, but what unites us. We all have something that must be reclaimed, a piece of knowledge to be found, or something to prove." He smiled darkly. "Tonight we will all do what is needed. We will save who we have lost, take what we need, and bring it all home." He stopped, looking intently at each volunteer in turn with a long and grave moment.

"This place where we're going... It's not a kind place and we will certainly not be welcomed with open arms by those who lurk there. Some of us may die. Most will certainly be harmed in other ways. If you want out, now is the time." He pointed up the stairs leading to the Mystery Shack and the Valley beyond. "There's the door. No judgments." He waited, allowing any who wished to leave to do so. Then he nodded to those who remained and continued, "Remember. We Don't leave anyone behind for as long as they yet breath. We all come back or none of us do." Then he nodded to Jack standing by the control panel. "Jack here is our insurance policy. He'll keep the gate open and we'll all be carrying these." Tom held up one of the small quarter sized devices on a nearby table. "Press the button on one of these and Jack'll know we're in trouble and pull us all home. Or at least those who still have these on them. But, Jack, turn it on." Jack nodded and a pulled a few levers and pushed some buttons on the console. Moments later, the gate began to hum and light up before the air within the gate began to glow a sickly green and Tom's expression darkened further. "Let's go..."
May 9 2015, 02:32 PM
It was rare for Tom to be on this side of town. In fact, he hadn’t been on the east side of town was when his daughter was still in High School, and then he was there far more often than he cared to admit. No here he was again visiting that self-same school, Morvran High.Things were a bit different this time around however, as his daughter had long since graduated and thus was not why he was here. Instead, he was here because he had drawn the short straw and thus responsible to give the commencement speech for Columbiana’s prep school. It was not something he was excited to do. In fact, he was dreading it.

Wherever Tom went, he went on foot, so long as it was closer than he could justify to take the old plane out. Today was no exception, but due to his reluctance to do as he had been asked, Tom was dragging his feet. A trip that typically took him a handful of minutes had already taken him an hour as he slowly meandered his way to the high school. Still, he was within sight range of the school and he knew he couldn’t stall for much longer, as commencement was only an hour away and he couldn’t run if he wanted to. If only he had a way to waste some more time…

Sighing deeply, not honestly expecting the skies to open up and give him a delaying excuse, Tom looked towards the heavens…. Thus he was just in time to hear a distinct cracking sound, like an ancient tree snapped asunder by lightning, and a large, faintly purple crack appear in the sky between him and the school. “Huh… That can’t be good…” Tom said in his low baritone. A moment later, he heard screaming from the school as faint purple mist slowly leaked out of the far side of the crack and flowed towards the school. “Nope. Not good.” Tom took off running, concern and concentration plain on his face but without a hint of worry. He was going to do what he had to do. It was big damned hero time and he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss something like this..

A handful of seconds passed before Tom noticed something was wrong. He was moving at a good clip; which seemed right. He was moving towards the school; that also checked out. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t working right. Could it be that his current route was going to bring him quite close to the crack? No, because it would stand to reason that since it was between him and the school, he’d have to go past it. There was something wrong, but he just couldn’t place it. Then, finally it hit him! His feet weren’t touching the ground…

He was moving alright, but not under his own power. The crack was pulling him in, with a surprisingly powerful amount of force; powerful enough to send him tumbling through the air at about 20 miles per hour. “Yep. Definitely not good…” Tom sighed and crossed his arms grumpily as he tumbled into the crack and disappeared.

((This will lead into the lovely “SOME PLACE ELSE” starting after everyone’s establishing posts. The crack is emitting purple mist towards the school, but sucking in anyone and anything not secured on the opposing side. Once your character is through the crack, they’re in for an adventure on the other side!))
Oct 3 2014, 10:58 AM
Tom was waiting patiently in the basement of the Turing building, idly shifting his weight back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again. He was whistling some jaunty tuneless melody to himself as he waited. He was doing his damnedest not to seem like he was getting impatient, as when his companion finally arrived it would seem rude if that were the case, which it wasn't of course.

Glancing, seemingly idly and not at all as a sign that Tom was waiting for something, he frowned ever so slightly. He held his watch up to his ear then, listening for the sound of the watch working, then he nodded in confirmation that 'yes it really is that time.' Fenwick was running late. They had said to meet at the portal at 11:30 on Saturday morning, and that Noah would bring the coordinates that they needed to calibrate the portal to take them to their destination.

As for their destination: well, that was the clincher. They weren't really sure. Well, they both knew they were going to Victoria Station at The Crossroads. It was what they expected to find there that was the mystery. They'd both individually intercepted a distress call from the Station, a message which ended in a scream and static. As mutual members of the Society of Etheric Consonance, Tom had sought out Noah's help in mounting a rescue mission, only to find that Noah had been expecting him. That was when they arranged this meeting to enter the portal together. 11:30 on Saturday.

It was now 11:25 and Tom was getting antsy at Noah's lateness. Every knew that when a meeting time was declared that anyone showing up later than ten minutes early was late? Tom was starting to wonder if he had written down the wrong time. It wouldn't be the first time the big midwesterner had done so. Either way, he had no option but to sit and wait, hoping that Noah would show up. In the meantime, Tom kept glancing at his watch while pretending not to and tapping his foot without realizing it (if he had, he'd certainly stop as it would seem rude).
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