Spells from the Tenth Age: Kurjamieli's Triad

The following three spells have a common availability in the Vales, and were crafted by Kurjamieli the Elf during the autumn and winter of the year X511 in preparation for a confrontation with the sorcerer and possible vampire, Lord Servillus Blacklake.

Kurjamieli's Wall of Coursing Water (Lvl 1)
(Enchantment)
Range: 30 yds.
Duration: 2d4 rds. +1 rd./level
Area of Effect: A circle 10' tall x 10' in radius x 1" thick, or a Wall 10' x 10' x 1" + 10' tall x 10' radius or 10' x 10' x 1" per caster level over first level.
Components: V, S, M (A barrel of water 10 cubic feet or any other source of water of equal or greater volume)
Casting Time: 1
Saving Throw: None

When this spell is cast, a circular wall of coursing water springs up. It is 10' tall and 10' in radius and is considered running water when faced with vampires or other creatures that cannot cross such barriers. Alternately, the wall can be a straight wall that is 10' wide by 10' tall by 1 inch thick. The wall does not stop arrows or other projectiles, but the swift-moving water does cause any ranged attack passing through it from either side to suffer a -2 penalty. Anyone on either side of the wall can see through it to make melee attacks with no penalty. The wall disperses after 2d4 rounds plus 1 round per level of the caster, or if the caster chooses to dispel it before that. The material component is 10 cubic feet of water. Note that this spell can use any kind of water, including holy water.


Kurjamieli's Uncanny Step (Lvl 1)
(Abjuration)
Range: Touch
Duration: 24 Hours
Area of Effect: 1 creature
Components: V, S
Casting Time: 1
Saving Throw: None

This is an augmentation of the Armor Spell, but works only against unarmed attacks. It grants the wearer of the spell an AC of 4 vs. Unarmed Attacks only. Otherwise it operates just like the Armor spell: It is cumulative with Dexterity, does not work on those with an Armor Class of 4 or better, is not cumulative with the Shield spell, but in the case of fighter/mages, stacks with the shield bonus. This spell lasts for 24 hours.


Kurjamieli's Mystic Mirrors (Lvl 1)
(Enchantment)
Range: 60 yds. plus 10 yds. per level.
Duration: Special
Area of Effect: 10' x 10' square + 10' square per level
Components: V, S, M (A silver mirror or mirrors worth at least 150 gp each; mirrors may be reused)
Casting Time: 1 rd.
Saving Throw: None

When cast, this spell raises up a number of silver mirrors (equal to the spell caster's level) to catch and angle sunlight into an area 10 square feet per level of the caster (A level 2 wizard can cover an area 20 square feet, for example). The sun must be visible in the sky for this spell to work. The final mirror must have a 'line-of-sight' on the area the caster wants to affect. The spell lasts until the spellcaster stops concentrating on it (due to moving, desire, or a successful attack that causes damage) or if something obstructs the final mirror's 'line of sight' or the mirrors are attacked. The wizard may lower the mirrors gently to the ground by concentrating, thus ending the spell, but if he starts moving or is attacked successfully the mirrors will crash to the ground and become unusable.

Roland's Blazing Brand

(Alteration)

Range: 1'	Components: V,S,M
Duration: Instantaneous	Casting Time: 1 round
Area of Effect: 5'x30' cone	Saving Throw: Half

Roland's Blazing Brand draws on sources of fire near the caster to sculpt a temporary wizard mark in the air. This will extinguish all the fire sources near the wizard as he casts the spell, within a 10' radius. After the spell is complete, the blazing brand explodes outward in a cone of white-hot fire. Anyone caught within the cone must save vs. spell or suffer half damage. Anything flammable directly in front of the brand and within 10' will also ignite. This includes clothes, wood, etc.

For every candle-sized light source, the spell will deal 1d4+1 points of damage, to a maximum of 10d4+10. A torch counts as 2 candles, and a larger fire counts as 5 candles.

This spell takes a full round to cast, during which time streamers of fire concentrate on the caster.

The Wizard's Staff

The use of magical wands and staves is as old as the Art itself. Most wizards wield staves because of the lack of time required to learn to use them. This, combined with a staff-wielding culture, has perpetuated their use as normal tools. Staves may also serve as a prop in old age, and many wizards remain ambulatory well into their twilight years. However, that doesn’t account for the great many magical staves and wands that have been crafted over the centuries, leaving one explanation that was posited by the Llyrian wizard Galthese the Wise:

“The staff and wand are traditional implements of magic. As matter that was formerly living, wood is tied into the natural radiations of magic that flow from the center of the earth. The rod, as a shape, is naturally attuned to various outflows of magic as well. It mimics the shape of the human finger, and thus can be used to manipulate the flow of the causal tide of energy that surrounds us. In essence, one places in the staff the potency to bend and manipulate magic itself. For this purpose, various woods and metals suit our needs to lesser or greater degrees...” (Galthese the Wise, Treatise on the Staff, IX Age)

A compiled list of various materials is presented below. These are taken partially from Galthese’s treatise and partially compiled from various and sundry other sources.

Ash. “Ashwood is the most holy of all trees. The barbarian Thegnar tribes revered it and it alone in the Dawn Age; they knew it instinctively. The great World-tree, Asca-Irminsul, is represented in each and every growing ash. Know that this holy tree is not to be touched in this realm!” (Agis the Unconquered, Declaration to the Skinchangers)

“The ash tree has many magical applications; the most famous are the Wands of High Sorcery, which have been immortalized in legend and song. Great magical staffs have been carved from it as well; It has been known to store great reserves of magical energy and I would not hesitate to call it the king of woods for that very reason. It is rare, but possible, for natural ash growing in the wild to trap pockets of latent magical energy and develop into something more than simple vegetation. This is complicated, of course, by the burning fury of northerners when you damage or cut down an ash tree. Thegnarians, Valelans, and even some Mileans view the ash as semi-sacred.” (Galthese)

Birchwood. “White like the ash, and indeed related to it through descent, the birch tree is a nice pick for a staff. Stylish! Many Dorlish wizards use birch; it’s not as presumptuous as ash nor as mundane as oak or bronzewood.” (Edeo Aspeki, Courtiers Guide to Wizards, X Age)

“The white wood of the birch is often compared with that of the ash tree. However, it is in many ways unsuitable for use in magical procedures. It makes a fine dust or powder for rituals requiring substances of that nature as, once burned, it can bind with magical humors present in the air. However, in its whole form it is too dense for the tides of magic to penetrate it. It is the foolish wizard indeed who attempts to enchant a birchwood wand or rod without first preparing it with potent resins, oils, and powders.” (Jiacamo di Tyrol, Myths of Magic, X Age)

Bleakwood. “A rare find indeed! Bleakwood has to be harvested in a particular manner and only grows in the swamps of Tyrolin. Dorlish mages generally eschew it due to its brutal nature and ties to bloodlust and madness in folklore. I do believe the Archmage General Enzeo Petrucci carried a staff of this nature!” (Reynarius di Llun, Staves and Things, X Age)

“Cut from the swamps of Tyrolin, Bleakwood has many uses commensurate with its rarity. Amulets and rings cut from it can protect the vital anima or essence of the wearer from outside attack. Tea brewed from the root of the bleakwood tree has been known to be extremely toxic; it may cause blindness and lameness as well as sapping the vital strength of the imbiber. However, when served to those on death’s door, it will either kill them within three hours or revive them.” (Solon Everwind, Lectures at the Polis, X Age)

Bronzewood. “Stone and bronzewood are the most commonly used materials for wizard’s staves. The reason for this is simple: they can withstand a great deal of stress, and there are mages who use their staves as offensive weapons. They can be found with relative ease (though not everywhere in the north). This is the same material used by shipwrights for the central mast of great cogs and carracks.

"It is widely believed that bronzewood and ironwood have no magical applications. This is generally false. Bronzewood was prized for its ability to contain the squirming and often volatile effects of alteration spells; Ironwood, in contrast, has a grain perfect for grasping the potent strands of high sorcery of all kinds. Ironwood bark may also be used as a cheap alternative base for scrolls as opposed to the much more expensive parchment or vellum. The same preparations must be applied, and the ink must be thickened by a factor of two to three times.” (Galthese)

Bone and Ivory. “Most sorcerers, wizards, mages, and magic workers fear using the living or formerly living matter of intelligent beings for their spells. They are squeamish, and allow the petty concerns of morality and the morés of Arunëian society to constrain their Art. ‘The bodies must be burned!’ the priests will shout, ‘destroy all the remains!’ Yet, there is potency in bone, for it remembers the essentia, the pattern, of the life that was lived within it. Necromancy worked with bone is particularly powerful, as one might imagine. “Yet feel bone in your hand! It is cold, almost lifeless. The pattern is faint. Now hold ivory in that selfsame hand and it will warm to your touch. Ivory is the queen of all necromantic material save for bone from the undead themselves. It contains within it a perfect duplication of the essere, the essentia, of the living being. It responds to life with warmth and eagerness for it recalls what it means to live.” (Cesiderus the Necromancer, On the Marrow, IX Age)

 Cedar. “O hardy cedar! You provide for us the fire of ascension, whereby the spirit may be carried into the West. Do your wonders there cease? Nay, for even the magician has said ‘cedar, thou art fine.’ For with the branch of cedar can-not one see into the future? Is it not perfect for divinatory auguries and rituals of all kinds? Yes! For the priests of the Weaver know its potency, and the Crippled God weaves not with an ashen loom, nor one of pine, but of cedar.” (High Oracle Jacynth, Devotions, VI Age)

Firwood. “Fir and pine are sacred to Eleia, and often associated with growth, virility, and health. Many cult-idols are made from firwood in the East, particularly in Llyris and former Llynder. Stonemark also has a special place for the fir, and sacred buildings are often braced and built with firwood.” (Ceylan the Thoughtful, Symbolism of the Sacred, X Age)

Hickory. “Hickory wood is similar to bronze or iron wood in that it has a heavy resistance to shock, is pliable, and is very strong. However, it grows in a narrower environment and is thought of with less prestige. There is a family of hickory trees known as the Wyrmwood Tree which grows where, long ago, draconic tombs and ruins stood. This tree is favored by those sages that study Wyrmlore for use in their rods, wands, and staves; whether or not it is actually attuned to wyrms or their shades is a matter of debate.” (Galthese)

Larch. “Larch is prized by builders for its sturdiness, durability, and waterproof nature. It’s resin is particularly thick and the wood is resistant to rot. This makes it a valuable asset to wizards, for it can withstand a great deal of essential pressure. Lesser materials might crack or shatter while channeling the energies required for potent summonings or invocations, but larch will bear up under the strain quite admirably. I have found that banding it with silver will reduce the effort in enchanting it and lessen the strain on the caster...” (Turin the Master, Letters to his Apprentice, IIX Age)

Oak. “Oakwood is a sturdy choice for a staff, and sees heavy use (along with bronze- and stonewood) with wizards from Atva-Arunë. This is probably because of its association with strength and sturdiness. The oak tree is also sacred to Haeron, and thus staves of oakwood are preferred by priests, travelers, and the devout.” (Ceylan)

“Banishments and abjurations are made simpler with oaken implements. The reason for this is complex, but in essence the strength of the oak and the depth of its roots provides a perfect metaphysical pattern or anima for spells of turning back, protecting, and cancellation. Does the lightning strike the mighty oak tree and fell it?” (Galthese)

Shieldwood. “The ubiquitous grey pine of the North, shieldwood is stout but must be dried over a long period and then treated to be worthwhile. It has no magical properties inherent in it, though again, ease of locating a shieldwood pine makes it quite cheap and easy to come by.” (Ceylan)

Stonewood. “The hearty Stonewood tree provides a sound foundation for staves and wands of all types. However, the expense of felling Stonewood when such trees are reserved for use as masts of large ships, makes it a difficult thing to obtain. Some wizards thus cultivate Stonewood trees of their own, and its presence in wizard’s gardens is a well-known attribute of Llyria.” (Galthese)

Willow. “Willow-wood is a fine choice for wands; it’s lack of firmness disguises a youthful and vital core that is perfect for weaving potent magic to it, but not for engaging in battle.” (Lydur of Soloth, The Heart of the Wand, VII Age)

           

“Willow wood is itself magical. The willow grows not only where the land is right, but also where the tide of magic breathes from the earth in abundance. The ancient willow groves of Sylvasil were once host to great gatherings of nouriso enchanters, for there the magics of enchantment and staying were strongest. Songs of slaying are not its potency, but those spells which forge the bonds between. During the Draconic Wars, the great Oronnos of Sylvasil added their strength to the embattled armies hundreds of rods to the south by means of these circles and groves...” (Aranaderyn the Wizard, The Elf-Dragon Wars, VII Age)

Xoantha. “The olive-wood called xoantha was a classical choice for staffs; Aellonian wizards primarily utilize this light colored wood. It feels somewhat warm to the touch when held much like ivory; this is because the animating spirit of the wood is reluctant to flee and will be held in the staff. Much preferred by Ishtrian and Aellonian wizards as well as the goblin-mages beyond the Straits.” (Galthese)

The Wizard's Indenture

Somehow, while discussing the Law Review and capitalism, the concept of the indenture came up today. Contracts of indenture go back to the late 13th century, when they were made as chirographs (literally, they had "teeth" that interlocked, showing their veracity) and were generally used for mercenary fighting forces.

This led me to bring up the idea of the wizard's indenture with Evelyn, a fellow law student who has made her first foray into the world of pen and paper with us recently. Her response was, of course, that selling off young children to go and live with lonesome intellectuals in towers was generally a rather unpleasant reality of the 10th Age... which caused me to examine my own motives for establishing such a system, even in a fantastical (and not particularly pleasant) world.

Here are the forces that lead wizards to be shaped as they are...

BUT FIRST: There are no contracts of indenture. I felt like I should get this out of the way first. Contract law is only developed enough to produce chirographs in the Empire, and as it stands wizards hunting for apprentices generally pass through many lands not their own before finding a child suitable to be raised. They have a simple approach: pay off the parents with a load of gold, then disappear to raise the child in some foreign land.

Wizards build towers. This is so self-evident that it's become an axiom in Atva-Arunia. That is: wizards are isolationist by their nature. They do not like to be involved in the outside world save where it may affect their studies. The tower is the traditional sign of wizardry partly, yes, because it is phallic and many wizards are male, but also because it represents a withdrawal from society. Wizards are incapable of holding together in cohesive groups for any length of time. Why is this, you ask? I will tell you:

Wizards are scholars and academics. But they are also ANTI-ACADEMICS. Where academics want to share things with each other and comment on each other's work, wizards want to learn things and hide that learning from the world. Worse, they are beset by the perpetual bugaboos of academics the world over—overweening pride, intellectual hubris, and prima ballerina syndrome. Unlike the vociferous and easily offended academics of the monastery or the temple-school, wizards are in a unique position: when they disagree with each other, they can literally set each other on fire. Even minor disagreements can become deadly argument. The line between verbal attack and verbal attack is very thin for a wizard.

Furthermore, wizards universally have trust issues. Power is nice, but it also precludes them from having normal relationships with other people. Two wizards cannot have a romantic relationship, for example, because of the lingering fear that one will try to kill the other for access to their books. A wizard cannot have a relationship with a non-wizard because they are simply not on the same playing field. Of course, rare individual instances of these things happen... but on the whole, wizards cannot date, marry, or have children with each other or any one else as a function of their inability to trust and adhere in groups.

So what about this lifestyle makes it appropriate to buy apprentices? Well, though it is the simple perpetuation of a cycle of mild child abuse by many wizards, there are those who treat their apprentices well and seek to prevent the awful treatment they themselves received as children and not carry it forward onto their own apprentices.

The long and short of the matter is that apprentices are wizards' existential and intellectual children. They inherit the magic of the wizard. They inherit the tower of the wizard. They are, in all ways, children of choice. But, as in all other places, wizards must be wary of their timing. If they raise an apprentice who is too readily handy with magic and prepared to take over the wizards' house and libraries too early, the wizard will not be ready for "retirement" and this will essentially be an apprentice-murders-master situation. Likewise, if the apprentice isn't ready but the wizard dies, that apprentice's lifespan just got exponentially shorter because whatever came after their master is likely going to come after them, as well.

These are the beats I was seeking to hit with apprenticeship.

Because this is a fantasy world, it allows me to dwell on certain emotionally real aspects of human behavior. But further, it also allows us to envision a society where things aren't the way they are here. No one really has a problem with the apprenticeship model in the 10th Age. Magic takes 10+ years to learn, and children must begin early if they aren't to have bad habits. Indeed, they are often taught logic and rhetoric before even beginning their central curriculum.

Perhaps this is simply the price of spellcraft.

Magic Once More: Controlling Access to Spells

One of the more interesting subjects that has crossed my mind is the access to various spells in the 10th Age by wizards-at-large versus the access that specific wizards or organizations have to certain spells and magic. Primarily, spell lists may help differentiate orders or students of certain masters by including some rare spells while excluding other common ones. Customization of access, rather than hard and fast rules about what spells wizards may learn, can give various traditions of magic a flavor without requiring the wizard to take a special kit or subclass.

This idea, of course, comes from the Encyclopaedia Magica series, which lists the frequency of each spell in the D&D world at large. One way to augment these lists is, of course, to create proprietary custom spells which are only available to people within the order, college, or apprenticeship.

The very first question to be asked is usually: "What stops spells from becoming available to everyone in the setting as a matter of blanket effect?" The answer, of course, is that wizards are clannish and anti-scholarly. They hate sharing information, in particular spells, because of the sunk costs involved and the direct effect knowing spells that no one else does has on the power differential between a wizard and his colleagues. Wizards may not be so reluctant to teach commonly known spells, but any that they develop themselves will likely not be available in the world at large until long after their death.

Of course, this brings up a point I've heard in other places, which is that many spells that are widely known by mages are not, in fact, the same spell. I generally have wizards determine what their magic missiles look like individually for this very reason. The logic behind this supposition is that some spells, though they are "common," actually, rules-wise, represent a diversity of common-application spells that are developed in parallel by very many wizards at once. The original magic missile, for example, may not have proliferated at all—perhaps it was merely witnessed by a wizard, who created a parallel copy for his own.

Because of this anti-scholarly attitude, a great many restrictions can be justified. This includes access to spells that create certain magical items, and therefore those magical items themselves. This is one of the ways I differentiated the old Milean Schools—they had not only widely divergent interests, philosophies, and spell lists, but also created vastly different armories of magical items to equip themselves with.

Developing a list of spells known by a wizard's master is an important element of this process. I always have mages upcharge adventuring PCs for learning spells that are otherwise not widely available, as well. Thus, while fireball may cost 1,500 gold to learn, a specialized level three spell that is known only to a handful of wizards may indeed cost upwards of 5,000 gold in training.

O! Master, my master!

In the 10th Age, wizards need masters. Those wizards who don't have them are generally from the now-defunct Orvean Academy or the College of Wizardry of Dorlan. The College is a separate beast, but even on its grounds individual masters take control of the training of entire groups of students. The experience of every apprentice is different; many masters are cruel or cold, looking upon their apprentices as wayward children who will one day grow up to supplant them. Some are kindly and loving. But a master is like a parent: they choose you, you don't choose them.

There's always the option for a DM to make a master with a custom approach, and that is probably recommended. However, I love tables and so does the internet. I'll probably wind up using these for a while and altering them again. Without further ado: the 10th Age Random Master Generator.

Gender
01-70     Same gender as the apprentice
71-00     Opposite gender from the apprentice

Alignment
01-60    Same alignment as the apprentice
61-00    Use the random alignment chart below!

Random Alignment
01-25    Neutral Evil
26-35    Chaotic Evil
36-45    Lawful Evil
46-56    Chaotic Good
57-76    Neutral Good
77-87    Lawful Good
88-90    True Neutral
91-95    Lawful Neutral
96-00    Chaotic Neutral (look out!)

Major Personality Traits (1 roll)
1. Paranoiac. Your master does not trust any other mages. He wards his spellbooks, constructs golems to guard his tower, places powerful spells upon his doors, and does other sneaky things. He may watch you by clairvoyance. It is unlikely that he trusts you not to grow powerful enough to kill him. It is very unlikely that he will teach you spells beyond the third level.

2. Wronged. Your master was once in a falling out or a great duel with another wizard. He bears a grudge against this mage. Talking about his rival will make him angry and animated, and much of his energy is expended in trying to find ways to best him. This includes the hoarding of magical items and overprotectiveness of his apprentice. Also, beware: the other wizard may target you as a way to get to your master!

3. Mystic. Your master is a strange man, inclined to naval-gazing and bouts of mystic insight. He is obsessed with the immaterial world and often seems reclusive or withdrawn. There is a fair chance that any time you approach your master, he will be too concerned with some minor trivium of philosophy, theology, or arcanology to respond to you. His spell list will be strange and bizarre, focusing on non-combat magic.

4. War Wizard. Your master is a bastion of combative spells, and often finds himself embroiled in the conflicts of local folk. His spell list is heavy on things like lightning bolt and fireball, and he is well known in the region. You may be the target of adventurers trying to prove their worth and your master will be gone for long stretches, fighting in distant wars.

5. Stormcrow. Your master is a herald of bad news and grim advice. He is hated locally (and maybe hated internationally) by rulers for the way in which he normally appears just before the onset of trouble. He is intensely interested in the goings-on of every nation nearby and constantly inserts himself into their politics. He may send you out to "right wrongs" or to avert disasters that he foresees.

6. Sickly. Your master is beset either by the onset of many small illnesses or by one great illness that will not leave him. He coughs up blood, spends a good deal of time stricken down by sickness, and generally finds himself confined to his home. He is hesitant to travel abroad and spends a good deal of time researching ways to cure himself.

7. Boastful. Your master is too free with his boasts, and thinks of himself as more potent than he truly is. This means he is frequently getting into pissing matches with local lords, other wizards, adventurers, etc. Adventurers abroad know of him, and generally find you unpleasant because of your association with him. However, it is possible to use this boastfulness to your advantage; all and sundry are likely to know that he is powerful enough to defend you if the need arises.

8. Cowardly. Your master is a coward. He rarely ventures outside of his tower without warding, guarding, and summoning spells at his command. He often wastes his funds on groups of mercenaries to protect him when he travels. He will be unwilling to aid you in any of your endeavors that might endanger him. His spell list is light on combat spells but heavy on illusions.

9. Cursed. Your master is the subject of a powerful curse, whether bestowed upon him by a demon, a djinn, or some other extraplanar creature. He is afraid of incurring the thing's might again, and thus his spell list is heavy in magic that deals with other planes, and he is knowledgable about them... however, he will often require strange and exotic ingredients from you, or dispatch you to the far ends of Arunia to search for secrets.

10. Melancholic. Your master is depressive. He is easily discouraged, and finds himself confined to his tower for long stretches. Rousing him from his depression can be a task in and of itself, and he rarely musters the energy to aid you.

11. Labyrinth-Builder. Your master has a desire to build and test labyrinths and dungeons, to populate them with creatures, and to fill them with traps. He is often to be found expanding the dangerous wilds around his tower, and spends much of his money to hire up engineers and stonemasons to continue constructing his elaborate traps.

12. Recluse. Your master despises the big cities and most visitors. He lives out in the wilds, and guards his privacy greedily. Once you leave him, it will be difficult to return. His magic is mostly focused on esoteric ends: spells that interact with nature, stargazing, divining, etc. He may be a powerful war-wizard as well, but either way he is not free in sharing his magic.

13. Parental. Your master looks after you like an absentee parent. He is likely to provide you with help whenever he can. He may create magical items for you, or rush to your aid if you're in trouble. However, he will absolutely not let you use his library nor will he teach you new spells; he believes that you must come to these things on your own, in time.

14. Abusive. Your master is a classical abuser. He treats you horribly, almost like a slave, and sends you out to do his bidding in the world. He values your life lowly, but will teach you new magic for free up to a point.

15. Manic Obsessive. Your master is sometimes prone to bouts of manic energy, focusing all of his thoughts and works on a single project until it is complete. You cannot sway him from his goals, which may be incomprehensible and generally do not include you. He is often too busy to interact with you.

16. Planeswalker. Your master is adept at traveling between planes. He often leaves for long stretches of time without telling you. He may return mysteriously with little warning. His magic is strange and powerful, but of a ken that he rarely shares with you. He may allow you to inherit his tower when he finally decides that the planes are his true home.

17. Pedantic. Your master is a historian or semiotician, and very proud of the fact. He is persnickety and precise, deeply invested in making certain every little detail is right. He may criticize you on the smallest misstep and is generally very withholding with his praise. It is difficult to do well in his eyes, though his rewards for satisfying his high bar are generally quite high.

18. Hardwisdom. Your master believes the best lesson is the harshest. He has shut you out from his tower and refuses to speak with you or give you aid until you are mighty enough to be his peer. You may never see him again.

19. Grandfatherly. Your master is aged and crotchety. He expects complete loyalty and devotion, but is also harsh and kind in turns. He allows you use of his library, teaches you spells when it suits him, and generally asks for your assistance in his projects.

20. Explosive. Your master is extremely angry and volatile. He may lash out at you at any time. When he isn't dangerous, he is generally quite nice. He sees himself as reasonable and fair in every way.

Minor Traits (1d6 rolls)
1. One-eyed.
2. Hunchback.
3. Libidinous.
4. Drooler.
5. Limper.
6. Fidgety.
7. Dandy.
8. Noble.
9. Grasper.
10. Otherworldly.
11. Fearsome.
12. Wall-eyed.
13. Badly Disfigured.
14. Masked.
15. Truenamed.
16. Beleaguered.
17. Victimized.
18. Wealthy.
19. Official Position.
20. Part of an Order.

Magical Research Interests (1d4-1, minimum 1)
1. Arcanology
2. School of Magic (random)
3. Astrology
4. Planology
5. Demonology
6. Any Sage Knowledge

There may be more to come in the future, such as a table of wizardly backgrounds.

News from Arunia: The Fall of the Schola

Hark, ye friends! Surely you heard the great thunder upon the hill this week last? Aye, up where the wizards hide in their enclaves. That was no mere storm among the stones. I have the true tale, if you'll sit and listen. And mayhaps you'll slake a thirst or two? Kind of ye, goodman, too kind! I know the story from the lips of the folk who saw it, so you should take my word!

A great and unwholesome movement there's been in the Black College of late. That jumble a' ruins upon the hill has given the city fair fright for several generations, I dare say. Old King Roland the Wise cleared it of its most vile offenders when he slew the Black Order in his heyday, but the place has sat there like an evil spider upon the hillside ever since. I suppose it must've offended adventurers since the very day Roland drove out the sorcerers. There have been legend and rumor about it since afore then, with popular whispers having it that the College was the residence for ghosts, or demons from the Seven Hells, or worse. And folks seemed, for a long time, to fall ill mysteriously and die and oft they'd live within a few blocks of that cursed verge.

So it was with some keenness to the ear, sharpened hearing as it were, and softness on the soles that I spent my nights spying out the mysteries of that place. For I saw a shining band of folk go in and ne'er return. And then there came another troupe of adventuring folk. They changed their number and attacked the place a few times. They must've disturbed something within; something dark.

For this week past, a cloud of shadow gorged forth from the College. Men of jet stone, two in number, walked from beneath its archway. They rumbled up the Wizard's Hill to the walls of the Schola herself where they set to work tearing out the golden sigils upon the Imperial Wizards' curtain wall. When mages came to investigate, the things went to work on them. Within short order, a handful of mighty wizards were felled by stony fist and jet-black strength. Sorcery rolled off their shoulders like water on the slate, dear friends! If you can believe it, they felled mage after mage, none doing so much as a hurt to the beasts!

Lightning bolts there were, and mighty rivers of fire. But nothing could stop the onslaught. At last the secret council of the wizards emerged from the depths of their School to confront the visitors at their gates. There was shouting, and blasts of power the likes of which the city has not seen in two Ages past. At last the stony wardens fell, their skin of flint and jet cracking little by little until it gave.

But the greater bulk of the Schola was destroyed. I saw 'em fall! Four old men emerged as the victors, and they made haste to the ruins of the old College. Another magical battle ensued, though between whom and what I couldn't say. When I returned the following morning, they were hustling out of there with donkeys laden with books, chests, ink, parchment, scrolls, and wood. The Schola and the College... all abandoned. Can ye believe it?

Game Effects: The Imperial Wizard kit is effectively closed. All imperial wizards with the kit lose access to the Schola's resources and are no longer required to report to it. Future wizards with Schola background are assumed either to have survived the massacre or to have been out of the city when it was committed.

The Celestial Science

Excerpts from the treatise by Philopater of Miles, Imperial Magus, written in X.498.

Many who practice the Art adhere to the ancient and somewhat outdated belief that the flow and flux of their potency derives from the so-called Slumbering Dragon or the Third Wyrm, or whatever appellation they wish to give it. This mistaken belief, of course, comes from the translations of old Wyrmish legend discovered in the Dragonfells, the Emberlands, and the former provinces of Synd. Whatever the Wyrms believed, their access to this mythical or fabulous "breath of the dragon" is something that we modern mages cannot hope to match. Ask any student of the Wyrmish Art—their rituals are missing key components, rely on nonsensical grammatical constructs, and are extremely taxing to the corporeal form. They are incomplete.

Whether the world is truly the shell of a slumbering dragon or not, we may dismiss the notion that human and elvish sorcerers have access to this "breath of the dragon." It clearly is not so. If we did, our magic would necessarily more closely resemble the Art of those ancients. However, we have observed, and it is a growing consensus amongst mages and scholars of renown, that efficaciousness of magic may be tied instead to cycles observed in the Heavens. After all, is this not the very foundation of the venerable practice of Astrology, which is said to predict the alterations of the world?

Allow us to then to investigate the celestial science from its root and we will understand exactly how our own Art is affected and, in many ways, enslaved to the motion of the stars. The wellspring of mannish magic is not to be found below us, but rather above. We can trace the creation of the stars through the mystery cults of Galos the Seer, back to a time when Arunia was lit only by the presence of the World-Tree Asca-Irminsul. Before the advent of the stars, perhaps, all magic was descended from the principle of the dragon's breath (though there is an argument to be made, not in this book but perhaps in a future treatise, that even gigantine and pyskie magic does not make use of this essentially Wyrmish principle).

Indeed, the most ancient tablets recovered from the Jungles of Zesh hint at a considerably different system of magical Art in which the presence of the stars was not accounted for. However, at some period removed from the time of the original Sorcerer-King, Zeshimite magic underwent a massive and important shift. This, I believe (and shall hence argue) represents the time when the fixed and wandering stars were introduced into the Heavens. The sea-change in magic represents a sudden freeing of available magical energy and codification of previously slapdash system into one governed by knowable laws.

The stars were created by Galos at the latter end of the Night Age. They are made of a material almost never found terrestrially. This fabled star-stone is a quintessence, a fifth element capable of influencing the other four due to its purity, its incorruptibility, and its endurance. Even during the War of the Chains when the Aelio themselves wished to remove Galos' influence from the heavens, they could not muster the power to destroy the very stars. They are immortal and eternal.

From the stars descend the rays of magic that cause the beginnings of all events on Arunia. Though they may not be co-eternal with the world, they have become inextricably bound with it. Their movement is the cause of all mannish and elvish sorcery, and stirs up the lesser more earth-bound elements of Arunia into patterns that can be predicted (though never with complete accuracy). Thus, the motion of the stars is itself the source of magic. The celestial science governs the Art.

The Mother of Slime (Mater Limus)

In the 10th Age, many slimes and jellies may be produced from an arcane process that was once common knowledge, but since the days of the great Mannish Schools and the Elvish Sorcerers passed has been lost. Individual wizards have rediscovered some of the principles of this hideous creation, known by arcanists as the mater limus, the Mother of Slime. This engineered liquid is produced by a series of as-yet still mysterious spells and enchantments performed on captured versions of the slimes, oozes, and jellies which one seeks to produce. These creatures are classically grouped amongst the accidental creations of Ulagos the Potter (legend has it that they were spawned from the mud thrown from his wheel while he was making his other nasty children). However that may be, the presence of a mater limus is a highly dangerous one.

They can be controlled by adding various reagents to their composition; vinegar will kill them (as will any sufficiently caustic fluid), while extracts of black puddings will simply cause them to sink into a hibernative period, requiring resuscitation with alchemical soda or niter.

Mater limus are of varying powers depending on the wizard who created them. Their shared traits, however are that:

...they possess no external membrane to protect themselves from other fluids, nor do they have any cohesion, meaning they must be stored in a well or container of some kind.

...they may spawn a number of "children" slime types, depending on how they were made.

...they may be in "active" or "inactive" states.

...they are non-sentient but living.

...they cannot move or propel themselves and generally have no attack form.

...they never spawn more than a few slimes or oozes every hour.

...they need to be fed extremely large meals once or twice a decade, but otherwise will continue to live and produce slimes without interaction or checks.

...lightning or other electricity generally causes them to divide and bud off new slimes immediately, losing a portion of their mass.

More Monsters from Arunia: The Salt Lich

CLIMATE/TERRAIN: The East

FREQUENCY: Very Rare

ORGANIZATION: Solitary or Enclave

ACTIVITY CYCLE: Night

DIET: Nil

INTELLIGENCE: Supra-genius (19-20)

TREASURE: A

ALIGNMENT: Any evil

NO. APPEARING: 1 (or 2-4)

ARMOR CLASS: 0

MOVEMENT: 5 walk, 15 (hover maneuverability A)

HIT DICE: 15+

THAC0: 6

NO. OF ATTACKS: 1

DAMAGE/ATTACK: 1d10 or by weapon +3

SPECIAL ATTACKS: See below

SPECIAL DEFENSES: +1 or better magical weapon to hit

MAGIC RESISTANCE: Nil

SIZE: M (6' tall)

MORALE: Fanatic (17-18)

XP VALUE: 11,000

The so-called Salt Liches of the East are rarely found outside of the Plain of Sorrow and the isles of Aellonia. Legend has it that they were an ancient order of magicians that was founded during the Pillar Age and that they owe their origins to the city of Byblos when it was still an island and the Plain of Sorrow was still a shallow sea.

If myth can be believed, many of this order (who history has called the Aidic Magi, the Serpentine Order, or the Asocrians) gathered together on the island of Sintarra in the Sword Age and made of it a haven for wizards, where ultimate authority was portioned out according to mental acuity. Sintarra, itself perhaps only a myth, represents the ultimate end of all wizardly enclaves: it supposedly consumed itself in the petty struggles of vain mages and vanished from Arunia forever.

Those of the Aidic Order left behind became cruel and withdrawn, insistent upon controlling the city-states of Aellonia and the kingdoms of Llernea, Old Lllynder, and Byblos. Ancient Aellonian texts describe the fear of Aidics as so great that their symbols were stricken from the monuments they had once helped to raise and the Byblian Republic expelled all the Serpentine Magi in a great edict.

As their numbers dwindled, the Aidic Order sought ever to preserve itself so that they could one day recover the glory that had been theres before the vanishing of Sintarra. The final end of these Classical Era efforts was finally found in the golden breath of Khewed: the adoption of Lichdom.

Unlike the continental Liches of the north, the salt-liches of the Aidic Order have been preserved in brine and nitre and spent centuries in seaside caverns. They are an ancient brood, with access to spells not seen since the Classical Era in Arunia.

One side effect of the Aidic preservation process is that their slumber is longer and more difficult to penetrate that that of other liches. Every several decades they must enter a sleep of 1d10x10 years to replenish their life-energy. If an Aidic lich refuses to enter its slumber, it loses 1 hp for each month of activity until it drops to 0 and is forced into a catatonia. It must then spend 10 years for each lost hit point in sleep before it may awaken.

Aidic Liches all share a single type of phylactery, which is the legendary serpent-collar that they wear. These are powerfully enchanted magical items that appear as a double-headed serpent coiled around their necks made of bronze with chips of tourmaline as eyes. The collars can be hacked apart, but if they come into contact with anyone but an Aidic wizard, they will spring to life as fully formed and venomous double-headed snakes of bronze.

Though they are stick-thin and often twined with strips of red cloth, Aidic Liches may move with great speed. They are rated as having a hover movement, but they cannot rise more than a half inch from any surface. This does allow them, however, to surprise their foes with great bursts of speed.

All Aidic wrappings are magical in some way or another, and most of these liches are in possession of numerous powerful magical items. Staves from ancient Byblos and wands from the forgotten North are common.

Combat

In combat, Aidic Liches are fearsome foes indeed. They do not radiate a fear aura like Aquilian liches. Rather, when roused to anger they can cause the very air around them to become suckingly, parchingly dry. This affects an area of some 50' in diameter. Moisture is drawn out of all objects in that region, causing leather to crackle and become useless after 1d6 rounds, cloth to become brittle, and all living beings to suffer a -1 penalty on all combat related rolls.

Their very touch drains moisture from the living, dealing 1d10 points of damage. In addition, the victim must save vs. spell or find a limb or extremity touched in this way withered as though by a Staff of Withering.

The Aidic Liches retain all the former power of their living spellcasting might, and none were less than 12th level upon assuming their undying forms. Additionally, their command of Classical Era magic is augmented by the knowledge of a some Elder Magic (which cannot be dispelled or saved against) though the particulars of this knowledge are left to the DMs discretion.

Organizing Magic in Arunia

Last week, the Hounds managed to bring back the Tome of Dreaming to the elvish city of Silversong. When they arrived they discovered that the Silver Wizards had erupted into chaos after their departure. Vast spellworks had been flung and the Silver Manse was in a terrific state of disrepair, but in the end Naur's master Tholindinar had come out on top.

While most of the session was spent investigating work, arranging treasure, recording xp, and discussing a new party charter (which, at the time of writing, is still being discussed), there was a little in there about joining up with the Silver Wizards, which Naur eventually decided to do. This led me to flesh out their organizational page on the OP wiki a good deal but also to start thinking about the nature of wizardly organizations in the 10th Age.

It's a well known Arunian adage that "wizards build towers," or in other words are prone to isolation for a variety of reasons. A cornerstone of this behavior rests on the fact that wizards are generally highly arrogant. After all, they're capable of controlling the elemental forces of the universe using their own hands, minds, and breath. I'm sure I've said this before, so at the risk of repeating myself the single-mage-single-tower is the most common magical paradigm in the 10th Age.

That being said, there are and have been magical organizations in Arunia in the past. The most famous of these were the ancient Scholae of the First and Second Empire, but these were wiped out at the end of glory days of the empire. Schools of magi are inherently unstable, as it's the equivalent of giving a group of very belligerent Oxford dons who all disagree about fine points of academia hand-mounted flamethrowers and lightning guns.

Elves are inherently less prone to dramatic violence then men, however. While the elves of Arunia are moved by powerful emotions and can easily tip from extreme happiness to extreme sadness, they are more inclined to restrain themselves when the situation calls for it. Magic, certainly, is one of those situations. The great lusty emotions of the elves lead, almost counter-intuitively, to less magical conflict rather than more. The calmer nature of elvish society leads to more harmonious spellcraft and less hording and violence between wizards.

This has found its ultimate expression in the surviving circles of elvish magic. While the cabals of mannish wizards are few and far between (and in this day and age generally limited to small numbers), organizations such as the Silver Wizards and the Cloudsea Sorcerers can have hundreds of members.

While I'm staunchly against associating level with rank (there are plenty of kings and knights who are level 0-3 warriors), magic is hierarchically divided into categories of ability. These scale perfectly with level, so the magical organizations of the 10th Age tend to divide their practitioners by level (as evinced when spells of a certain spell-level become available). IN addition, though Arunia is by no means a magic-saturated world, most elvish magical organizations have recourse to a number of magical items. In this case, enough so that they can outfit the limited number of incoming magi with robes that have minor enchantments woven into them.

Organizations do something else as well, something powerful and strange, regardless of wether they're magically inclined: they tie the players to a certain place, a certain mindset, and certain acceptable sets of goals that PCs aren't necessarily bounded with. This is one of the reasons why I purposefully chose to have elvish magical organizations kick out their apprentices until level 3—it fits perfectly with the elvish ideal of self-determination, the wizardly ideal of throwing out your apprentice, and the meta-game concern of making sure the player is READY for his character to become part of something larger.

The greater sense of obligation, the ties it engenders, and the way these things can be woven into adventures and the overall adventuring scene are topics I will hopefully explore in more detail in later posts.