868. In a damp, smoky chamber under the Royal Keep, Roger Tancred has just discovered the most magnificent science of all. Why, with magic, anything is possible.
"It is true that these magnificent sciences, through which great good can be wrought as well as great evil, should only be known by certain persons authorized by the Primate."
-- Roger Tancred, Opus Dominus
868, A few Hours Later at the Four Kings Tavern.
"No shitte, it juszt lit up. No fire no nuttn' glewesed like a candle it did. It was really weird. It didn't burned, it just lit errery thing up like, like, like... Magic!"
-- Roger Tancred, Traditions of The Solemn Brotherhood of Roger Tankard
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Meeting Called To Order Guyekoni 30, 997. In the back room of the Four Kings Tavern, Jonahthin Sauteres presiding.
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Jonahs bangs his tankard on the table three times slowly, and lifts it to his lips, "I call to order this meeting of The Solemn Brotherhood Of Roger Tankard." "He said 'Order'," someone cried out needlesly as everyone raised their tankards and drank. |
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Old Business:
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"Swanny says thanks." Swanny stands and nods. "He got a few points off, and the corrections are in the big book now.", said Jonahs. Corbet calls out, "But remember they only apply to Oldfoggy Eyes, Fatbutt Frankes thinks you should key the square on the 4's and not go directly to the 8." Murmers of agreement. "Why not, ... 8 is a magical number," an unidentified voice intones. Everyone smirks and the tankards rise. Corbet says, "Because it isn't a powerful enough spell to justify an 8" in an impression of Master Frankes that gets a series of chuckles. A voice in the back, pipes up, "College of Body Control & College of Air, whatz he doing - researching Fart spells?". Swanny responds, "Curses, found out! You will be the first victim of my Fatal Fart spell!", and he starts making blarphing noises with his hands. Much laughter and overdone faux fatalities ensue. "Order," bubbles Jonahs into his tankard as everyone else follows suit. |
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"Any other Old Business", Jonahs asks? "Yea," Scrawny, the treasurer stands up. "The inkeeper said the pot was light last month, either pitch your pennies in, or keep your tankard down!" "TANKARD!" someone shouts, and again they rise. |
New Business
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"That moves us on to new business then?" asked Jonahs. "Ok good. We'll have a new crop novaculls, next week - anybody spot any major potential?" Thoma speaks up, "That Frasier from Wundt has talent, and she's good looking too." "Who taught a Wundt to read?" "A Nun." "If none taught her to read how does she do it?" "By moving her lips!" Several variations of rude gestures follow, "Two Sagronian Nuns met on the street, they didn't recognize each other upright!" More gestures which are themselves followed by moving tankards and a chorus of "Order!" Jonahs looks at Thoma, "You trying to make her?" "No, but a pretty face would be a nice change in this lot." Sawbones glowers, "What am I?" Thoma looks at her, at a loss for a snappy comeback. After a moment he says, "Uh, you're with Corbet?" "And that makes me hideous?" asked Sawbones. "No," someone murmurs, "it just means you're busy reading in Wundtish." Sawbones blushes and says, "Jealous!" She then swats Corbet who nearly falls out of the chair he was leaning back in. "Stop smirking!" She continues, "I'll have to mentor her to keep you boys civil to her." Jonahs says, "And since Thoma's intentions are 'honorable'" - cat calls and various calls of "Fool" and "Sucker" are heard in the room crescendoing as Jonahs repeatedly feints with his tankard, until it reaches a climax and he drinks as everyone cheers: "Order!" while gulping at their own tankards. He continues, "since he is a gentleman, we'll have him apply as mentor as well. I expect the other brotherhoods will be trying to get her as well, she does seem to be making an impression. If you both apply we have a better chance of having her join our little brotherhood." Tankards rise. |
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"Presumeably by this point everyone has seen the letter from the anonymous itinerant Mage thats been circulating?" Murmurs of acknowledgment. "Well I have here a copy, that is not quite so anonymous." Jonahs pauses dramatically. "How many of you remember Moreau?" One of the younger mages speaks, "He must have went Journeyman before I got here." The silence is leaden. Tibalt continues, "Oh, crap, he got killed in a spell accident, man I'm sorry, guys..." "No," Sawbones interrupted. Corbet speaks up, "No, he was a fireman, damn fast dispel, he's not gonna get wasted in a lab accident." "Then, what?" asked Tibalt. The silence lengthened. Jonahs finally speaks up, "He tasseled out." Tibalt's eyes got wide, "What did he do? Ravish virgins on the altar?" "No, that was Cullinan," said Corbet. Thoma said, "Worse than that." "What?" "He was researching spells - from Colleges (tankards rise) he hadn't been admitted to," finished Jonahs. "That got him a Black Tassel?" asked Tibalt. "That and being better than old dullards like Fattbutt Frankes," said Swanny. Corbet spoke, "That was the second time they tried to throw him out. The first time didn't stick". Tibalt asked, "What did he do the first time, and why didn't it stick?" Corbet looked at Tibalt, "The first time they wanted to throw him out for making a powerstone." "By himself," said Sawbones. "In about an hour," said Swanny. Jonahs speaks up, "The first time they tried pretty much everyone was here. They couldn't push an expulsion past some of the more, uhm, dynamic Masters. "The second time they waited until there was some dust-up over in the west, Stirbridge or wherever, and a lot of the Masters that liked Moreau were off with the King's Mages." "So the old dried up fossils had a majority and voted him out, they had to make it a Black Tassel instead of a simple expulsion so they couldn't be overruled when the other Masters returned." Silence prevailed for a while. "Brother Moreau," said Sawbones. Tankards rise. "Anyway," Jonahs resumed, "I have a copy of the anonymous letter, and a letter from Moreau, with a few more details." He checked the room's wards with his magesight, and then proceeded to read the letter aloud. |
[The following letter is written in The Language of Magic, as best as it may, lapsing into common where the concepts are too mundane to express in Magical terms.]
To Jonahthin Sauteres, Sarah Fitzgerald, Breckridge Corbet et al
c/o The Four Kings Tavern, Landsruetowne
To My Good Friends and Brothers Of TSBRT
I write to you in strictest confidence, secure in the ties of brotherhood that the news I impart to you will only reach friendly ears.
Since I left you two years ago, I have travelled from P'eiml to Karlsbad, down to Ramsgate, and back up to Eaglesreach. Many things have happened, not least of which is a change of names, for several reasons, most of which are not important enough to tell in a letter, I am now going by the name Murrin rather than Moreau. If you come to Eaglesreach and you are trying to find me, they will know me best as Murrin Zadabaruk; though I may not be there, as our party is leaving in the morning on a, well I suppose it can best be described as a treasure hunting expedition. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, as these trips are chancy at best. If I am not there and one of you or someone you can directly recommend and vouch for has come seeking employment, you should inquire of Tilliam GoldFellow, who is my business manager in Eaglesreach.
I've arranged to have the other letter distributed anonymously since having my name attached to it would likely trigger a hunt for every last copy, even if it meant that certain Masters had to drag it out of a full chamber pot with their bare hands. If it becomes too widely known who penned that, it could severely hurt any number of people who might give it consideration even if in the end they decide not to come. Given the animosity certain Masters had for me, I fear any one seen to look on the prospect might get tasseled too.
On the one level the need for mages in Eaglesreach is prosaic and ordinary, few dwarves are born with the talent as we know it, and so apart from forging weapons and armor, there is very little magic used in dwarven enclaves. From rarity alone your services can be valuable. Add to that that Eaglesreach is already at its production capacity for weapons, armor and sundry, and still cannot satisfy the demand, having skilled mages who can turn non-magical apprentice-built items into enchanted items, would help them maintain their production quotas, which translates directly into paying work for College of Enchantment and College of Making & Breaking. For more advanced 'students' there is a major research project that must be undertaken and completed within the next 3 years. It involves recreating spells that have not been cast for nearly 1000 years. Even if you are not College of Enchantment capable, if you are research capable, there is work for you. Jonahs, if you were to come here you could end up coordinating dozens of Mages and apprentices, and being well paid for the effort, After all these years I admit I can't see you leaving, but if you do I've told Goldfellow to keep an eye out for you.
On another level, what I'm offering is dangerous. Very dangerous. It is possible to shortcut the road to Mastery. It works, but it nearly killed me. Yes Master ritual challenges are often dangerous and treacherous, but this was unconcious for three days talking to Mithras' Saints while they decide if it's time to bring you to The Light or send you back kind of almost dead. We need solidly skilled people to make that jump from Noumenoun/Journeyman to 'instant Master'. Even if you survive the transition, you're still not out of the woods. You have a new relationship with the mana that powers your spells. As one dignitary here phrased it, Dwarven Mages don't tend to last long, since by their nature they tend to find their limits by exceeding them. It is a very easy trap to fall into. Especially since that's the other gotcha with this shortcut to Mastery. You won't be a Master Mage. You'll be a Dwarven Master Mage.
This was unknown when I took this path, but now it is known, and I feel you need to understand what you are doing, rather than being surprised as I was. I do not control this path, and any that wish to assay it will need to prove themselves, not just to me but the others who hold the keys.
There is yet a third level. And that surrounds the civil war spawned by the Fraubards. I know of things it is not safe to place in writing, and based on those things if the Fraubards prevail, all of Landshrue and Belthashine will suffer greatly. If Fraubard becomes king he will be king in name only, for his orders come from the distant South. Any resistance or inconvenience that can be thrown in front of Fraubard's aims helps all who live in these lands. The Prince was an arrogant twerp when I met him in Trickle, but alas he seems to be the only Prince we have, and serving his interests are better than serving those that prefer zombies as servants (remember that fuss with the Lamplighters Guild shortly after I left? Those that brought forth the zombies are Fraubard's allies). Alternately if you have or can recomend those with skills as battle mages, it may be meritorious to offer your services to the (former?) Duke of Eastborne, Fortinbras de Groce. One of my companions this past half-year is his son, one Alain, a Knight of the Church of Mithras. Now from what Alain has said, it seems clear that his father is the sort of Noble who will take you and use you up if you allow him, so if you bring yourselves to him, guard yourselves well, but his strength and armies afield are very likely the only thing that can stop the Fraubards. If you go to him, make it clear to him you come not on his merits, but on behalf of his son's & his friends, who are loyal to Mithras. Anyone that plans to pursue this path may find the enclosure of value (a copy of the Lightning Bolt spell is enclosed).
And at times it appears the levels never stop. There is one more thing upon which a great many things depend: the health and well being of the Church of Mithras. They have called a convocation to meet in Landshruetowne. NOTHING must interfere with the holy duties they execute there, please provide them with all the aid and assistance you can muster. All of Landshrue has taken the protection of the Church far to lightly for too many years, and the protections wrought in antiquity crumble from disdain and inattentiveness. The Church must be supported, and The Light restored, and made to shine in every nook and cranny where malicious evil lurks. If you seek a way to distinguish yourselves among men and Magi, and none of the other opportunities I have made known to you appeal to you, make yourselves available, and place your skills at the disposal of the Abbess of Ancaster, who should be among those officers of the Church gathered for this. If even that you cannot do, then at very least please tend to your prayers, morning noon and night, and strive to walk in the Light.
These thing I tell you are sensitive, and even so I've witheld parts of the story that are worth a man's life. But the need is real, and I have to trust my old friends, though apart from Sawbones & Corbet who I'm sure are still there given the situation with their families, for all I know everyone else I knew has already turned out for their Journeymen years, so I hope this finds its way into trusted hands. You who now know more I must trust to talk quietly with those that are worthy among those who express interest in the anonymous letter, and point them more precisely in the direction where their talents would be of greatest service.
I miss you all and hope that when my quest is done, we will all be able to meet and drink in peace and good health.
[signed]
Murrin Zadabaruk (aka Moreau Perault),
Eaglesreach
Ps. No lie, I've seen the things in the other letter with my own eyes, and a lot more besides.
PPs. Please destroy this letter once you've let the rest of the brotherhood see it.
PPPs. I'm not joking about Ramsgate. I would have never considered the possibility of a "press gang" for mages had I not been imprisoned there. Avoid all dealings with the Battle Mages of Eire, or be well prepared with antidotes or counteractives to borage. But if you can afford it, and can avoid the press, ThunderHouse is "lodging" well worth the trip.
| The meeting was adjourned in good order. |
The barmaid started clearing away the chicken bones, and filled the cups one last time. Scrawney stirred the ashes of a parchment letter in with the other ashes of the fireplace. Corbet and Sawbones were sitting on the bench, arms wrapped around each other. Jonahs was reading over the anonymous letter again. Tibalt asked, "So who's going to Eaglesreach?" Everyone looked at each other, and then away. Nobody said anything at first, and then very quietly someone said, "Mastery." And the response came, "You become a Dwarf." The silence continued until one by one they left to return to the dormitories. |