Domain of the scarred mage

Faint fluctuations in the magical weave brought More Claym back to consciousness from a deep trance he had been in for nearly a tenday. The bodily sensations flooding back reminded him again of how weak flesh was, even empowered like his was. Starved, dehydrated and with every limbs numbed from not moving for days, the wizard worked his mind back into his body slowly. 

Looking up to the stone statue in the middle of his courtyard, More Claym stood and stretched his back, standing straight in the bright sunlight. Glistening along his body like surface veins, coursed bluish lines resonating with dormant magical energies.One of his eyes was a deep blue light, his whole hair were tendrils of magical flame flowing about like snakes, and his right arm was gone, but with a thought, the wizard recreated it from the wild magic inside him. Spellscarred beyond understanding, More Claym's whole body had been claimed by the plague, making him one with the magic of Faerun. Only his mastery of the arcane and determination had allowed him to survive the spellplague, and learn to control the damages it had done this his body.  Unfortunately, the damages to his mind were not so easily repaired, and More Claym's unstable nature had scared away everything he had left, which was not much to start with.

The last century had been hard on More Claym....

His constant struggle against the Dark Minded Council, and his nemesis, the sorcerer Blade, had ended with the death of his daughter, killed in the evil rituals of devils and dark magic. Of his companions, only Mugnorr Kenesis had survived. Then the Archwizards of Shade had come and started a war on Cormyr. They had helped, and fierce had been their battles, from which tales had been made.

But that had all faded into memories, and into legends as men died.

Then the Spellplague had struck, twisting his mind and body. If not for Mugnorr Kenesi, he would have lost his mind much sooner., but the powers of his friend were great as well. Unfortunately, as the decades passed and the plague raged, they finally lost the battle and when More Claym's mind was irreversably plagued, nothing else was the same.

From conflict to experiment, with rages, torpors, comas and strange dreams, More Claym's life crumbled slowly into chaos. Becoming a danger for the world around them, Mugnorr Kenesi, getting old but still strong, tried to put a end to it. Stop his own friend before he became a threat to Faerun.

Mugnorr Kenesi was not victorious. As the battle raged, the Mind Master was not prepared for the strange powers the Spellplague had bestowed upon More Claym.

Now, years later, and having regained some control over his own mind, More Claym was looking the statue of his old companion with regret. 

Then he felt it again. A fluctuation, ever so subtle yet unmistakable.

"You feel it my friend?", he said to the effigy of his lost friend. "Elven High Magic... very powerful yet very distant. ", he concentrated a second, reaching out with his scar rather than his eyes, "Very ancient, and very evil. Necrotic energies, yes... coming from the west... Yes, The west."

"Very interesting".

Too soon to know where the exact source was, More Claym prepared his domain. His castle was floating freely around the Plagueland, amongs the other pockets of changing weather and landscape, hiding its true nature. He would ready the old rituals to have it turn invisible and start its progress toward the Sword Coast. 

He bowed to the statue of his lost companion, then went inside.