Tag Archives: world building

A Treatise On Magick Part 4

These are the last of my notes on my magic system for my Thyre universe. While this gives a good, general view of the current thoughts on how magic works in this world, it doesn’t truly capture all the elements and how I worked them in. For instance, the previous section mentioned Alchemy briefly and how it relied almost one hundred percent on following precise formula to perform. It didn’t, however, explain the ramifications of this detail.

One thing I didn’t want was to have magic to feel separate and disconnect from the rest of the world. I feel there’s often a tendency for fantasy to have its world and the wizards as two distinct classes. Like Harry Potter, those that wield magic only have an impact whenever the author wants something grandiose to occur. But the face of the world is rarely so affected by the existence of magic for it to permeate any other aspect of its society or culture.

It strikes me as odd that in a world where people are capable of turning a man into a newt that the entire fabric of society is pretty indistinguishable from Medieval Europe. Why is it that so rarely rulers are people that mastered the arcane? Would not ambitious individuals learn the magical arts and then turn to conquering with their new found powers? So beholden are we to late Arthurian Legends and Tolkien imaginings that wizards are little more than the mysterious mentor who flutters in and out of the narrative at the author’s convenience but rarely ever leaving a footprint on the world during his trespasses.

For me, that would not do. To circle back to my mention of alchemy, the natural outcome of its elements was that while it took a typical magical background to learn its components one didn’t have to truly be a great practitioner to derive its benefits. This translated into the field of medicine. So much of alchemy is about changing the body that it seemed quite natural that its study and application would eventually create doctors, surgeons and apothecaries. Every single doctor in my world is a classically trained sorcerer. Each of them is capable of some degree of magic. Many who seek education from the marble halls aren’t pursuing some romanticized vision of reshaping the cosmos at the bend of their fingers but simply to learn the alchemical trade so they can help the sick and the needy. And because alchemy isn’t so reliant on the deep, esoteric knowledge of most sorcery, you could have your most daft pupil still learn something helpful and applicable to the rest of the world.

A humorous outcome from this, however, is that many sorcerers often look  disparagingly upon their medicinal kin. It’s a common belief amongst the scholars that doctors are just “failed sorcerers.” However, to the common man, the doctor is the epitome of applicable magick. Few are able to afford a household sorcerer for protection and prestige so most encounter sorcerers when needing attendance for the infirm and sickly. The common man sees the typical scholar as a cloistered recluse out of touch with society and a useless member to the Empire.

In many ways, the modern sorcerer is a tragic figure. So desperate are they to cling to their ancient ways even when those ways fail them. They seek a glory long lost and forgotten all the while under siege by the progress of time and technology. Theirs is a dying world and instead of seeking a true solution to their problem, they just raise their walls and cut themselves further and further off. They are like a small animal, crawling into the dark beneath a porch in order to die alone and out of sight.

scholar-reading-rembrandt-van-rijn

Scholar Reading by Rembrandt van Rijn

Notes from Professor Jonas Kaine’s Injunction

Concerning University Curricula

The power of a sorcerer is limited only by his imagination.

This quote by the renown practitioner Malchior the Grey, has been the idealism of the arcane practices for centuries. Throughout history, the tales of powerful sorcerers have been retold. Everyone recalls the power of the ancient Pharoic’s court and their awe-inspiring priests capable of raining locusts and blood down upon their enemies.

Almost every culture has its own sorcerers of lore; the great men capable of harnessing the elements to their whim. Even the dread witches of childhood fables and villains of the legends of old were capable of tremendous feats of arcane channelling.

It may seem oddly disconnecting for the modern practitioner beginning to learn the secrets of the aether. Where are the terrific storms? Why does the earth not groan at the passage of the sorcerer, his will causing even the Lord to shudder in fear?

Partly, legends have exaggerated the abilities of the sorcerers. People, especially the layman in the dark times, did not understand how the magickal truly worked. Their fears and suspicions twisted the reports of their sorcerers into terrifying men who would dare challenge the heavens.

That is not to suggest that the enlightened man is incapable of feats beyond the simple glamours and charms taught to the initiates. Controlling the aetheric winds is a challenging but greatly awarding practice. There is tremendous power to be tapped in the world around us, more than even the Academics and the sceptics care to admit.

The truth of the matter is that invocations are limited. There is just so much energy that man is capable of channelling on his own. However, ancient man made a rather terrific discovery: the process of invoking can be delayed with the correct use of retention wards and actions.

An invocation is like digging a dike beside a rapidly flowing river. The sorcerer creates a channel they wish to redirect some of that energy, but the process is never truly completed until the shoreline is breached. However, the dike itself can last for quite some time – it need not be filled immediately.

Thus, the first rituals were cast by combining certain key invocations and timing their completion at the simultaneous moment. This allowed a sorcerer to produce a single effect far greater than any individual cast. Suddenly, terrific powers were unlocked to the resourceful mind. But with all things, there were limitations. Not all invocations would work together and many would have to be adjusted to ritual use.

03300However, unlike invocations, it was discovered that universal actions would produce the same results. Assuming the practitioner could isolate themselves from contaminating the ritual, just about any sorcerer could channel the same effect as their peer if they followed the same processes. This was like alchemy but at a greater level.

Even more astounding, multiple sorcerers could combine their might. This could reduce the amount of time it took to prepare a ritual and also opened up even greater and greater effects for the arcane. With precise co-ordination, effects eerily similar to the legends could suddenly be performed.

The danger ran with the inclusion of each practitioner. The more sorcerers involved, the greater the chance of contamination. While the greatest abilities required the most practitioners, the more men channelling also entailed more risk. This is why the most powerful rituals never really developed very far. Only the most experienced could produce the effects with any sort of reliability. And one wrong step could produce the most disastrous results.

Few are aware of the dangers of channelling the arcane. The layman mistakenly assumes that a sorcerer is a master of his art – that the arcane is a well of power which they can siphon freely. This is incredibly misleading. The arcane is highly energetic and reactive. If a sorcerer missteps, the best they can hope for is a harmless atmospheric discharge of the energies often misconstrued as an unimpressive glamour. There are, however, far worst consequences for the sorcerer.

One phenomenon called aetheric flashback is a chief concern amongst those drawing on lots of the arcane. Should a sorcerer incorrectly channel the great deal of energy, they could find that the currents of the aether blow back upon him. This energy burst is most commonly released in a tremendous amount of heat and light. To the untrained, it may look like a sudden conjuration of fire sweeping over the bewildered sorcerer. The least severe can just leave the sorcerer disfigured and burned.

More likely, however, if an aetheric flashback is produced the sorcerer will be consumed by the very unrestrained energy that they have released.

Current knowledge of the aether is sparse, but it is widely believed that the aether is not a passive medium through which energy flows. Many practitioners believe there are natural currents which energy travels willingly through. Learning to navigate these streams can greatly increase a sorcerer’s skill in channelling the arcane.

However, known currents are not eternal. They are more like winds, apt to sudden change in direction one day rendering any attempts to harness them rendered useless.

Aetheric currents are not of typical concern in invocations because of such a short and focused release of energy. However, rituals almost always require the use of these ever changing channels. Many scholars argue that this explains why ancient rituals are not longer effective. There is a common theory that ancient magickal practices have been lost as the great currents that ancient practitioners tapped have all but vanished.

023Most rituals can be changed and adapted to the fickle nature of the aether. However, the oldest rituals are nothing but intriguing studies for the modern sorcerer who can only guess what the effects of many of these arts were capable of producing. And the stories of small cabals of sorcerers being lost in terrific explosions warn against foolishly attempting to “brute force” a ritual through a no longer existent stream.

There is one other major concern for rituals that should be mentioned. While every practice of the arcane requires some amount of cost (typically the ingredients required for the invocation), the cost of rituals is far greater than any other practice. While many will scoff at the idea of cost impinging the great study of the arcane – only those that work closely with rituals can truly begin to appreciate the expense. Some rituals turn relatively cheap invocations into a practice requiring almost a princely sum to perform. Coupled with the danger of a misfired ritual which will often destroy all the components, it is no wonder that rituals have mostly fallen out of favour with the common practitioner.

The study of rituals is still an important one. It is something that this University should not abandon in its research. While there are many difficulties involved, it is still a valuable tradition to keep alive. For one, it maintains a connection with the practices of the ancient sorcerers. It also gives further insight into the matter which sorcerers tangle with daily. Never is our ignorance of the arcane made so clear than when we attempt to understand the workings of rituals. They bring the importance of procedure and time to the forefront of a practice so wholly focused on the wills of the individuals.

Outlawing rituals would thus be detrimental to all this institute’s principles. Instead, I propose that the study of rituals is strictly limited to those capable of its investigation and who are willing to accept the risks involved.

If we weren’t prepared to take risks, then we would be nothing more than those lowly mechanists digging about in the ground.

A Treatise on Magick Part 3

My earlier breakdown in a treatise on magick created three classifications for sorcery: the ward, glamour and charm. However, as I pondered the role and use of magick in my world, I felt that having just these three options could be too limiting to my writing. Magic, afterall, is meant to be the strongest fantastical element of my story. These wondrous components are the hallmarks of the fantasy genre. I feel readers read fantasy precisely for the mysterious and mystifying elements and I didn’t want things too actually be dry and boring. I just wanted to give the feel that most people in my world found magic to be boring.

I was, essentially, pursuing that pre-Einstein field of thought. Physicists felt they had covered just about all the field had to offer with Newton’s laws and only the smallest of details remained. We know now that such a perspective couldn’t be further from the truth. But I wanted that sense that magic was on the decline. And without resorting to some sort of mystical explanation that the “magic” of the world was “vanishing” I instead opted to just have the mystery for its people dispelled.

But to make sure I didn’t ultimately leave myself written into a corner, I decided I would leave a small loophole. Thus, invocations and rituals were born. They would be the explanation, the metaphorical hand wave, that I could use whenever my sorcerers did something beyond the expected. What he did may not have been a glamour, ward or charm. It could be an invocation – the catchall for everything that I hadn’t the foresight to have penned down before my system had been completed.

Domenico_Fetti_-_Portrait_of_a_Scholar_-_WGA07862

Portrait of a Scholar by Domenico Fetti

Invocations, Rituals and Alchemy: Cornerstones of the Magickal Trade

Excerpts from the lecture by Emmanuel Dupont

 

No doubt, young initiate, you have perused the nature of the magickal. You have glimpsed upon the vast aether and felt the lines of power that course through it. Undoubtedly, you have received a pseudo-intellectual explanation of the greatest of the natural forces. You think you understand the rudimentary concepts of flavours and shades. You believe that wind is composed of wind energy.

Well, my young initiate, you are wrong.

The use of the arcane is a far more complicated matter than conjuring the soft stirrings of a breeze or creating the tinkling of a bell. You will notice, in your practices, that you require ingredients and foci in order to accomplish even the most mundane of tasks. Sure, you’re aware of the anchors for wards and have seen the sorcerers in the market purchasing an eclectic assortment of bits and bobs. You have the mental image of the mystique gentleman, waving about tails of newts and sprigs of holly in order to cause the very earth to shudder at his whim.

These foolish notions are even encouraged by my colleagues. They are drunk on the power of the arcane. They have tasted the sweet wine of the aether and have become lost in its heady aromas.

Well, young initiate, things are not so easy. If it were, anyone could be a sorcerer. Even the fair maids of the gentler sex would be able to tame the wild forces of chaos and nature. However, things are not so simple, and most of you will never progress beyond the basics.

The arcane is still a mysterious force even to this day. Despite our many journals, theories and practices, we still do not understand exactly how the forces work. Why do cinders and pine needles release such power to cause drowsiness in those who inhale their fumes? Why does willow bark coated in honey allow one to hide themselves beneath a veil of a foreign face?

The simple explanation, as you have heard, is that every thing contains a certain attuned energy. A flame is attuned to fire. Wind is attuned to air. The natural question would be how many types of energy are there and how do you identify them?

And that would be the wrong question.

The most basic concept is that every thing has its own unique energy. Mine is different than yours which is different than your mother’s which is different than the Queen’s. Yet we all have the same basic ‘human’ energy. We will all use our own to create glamours. However, if I hold up a piece of willow bark and admix with my own energy, I will create a different glamour than you will. Don’t believe me, let’s have some volunteers. You sir, with the dazed look. And you, mister, the one who looks like he’s old enough to teach this lecture.

Come here. I have a simple glamour for you to perform. Take this bell and rattle and create a glamour that will make the rattle ring with the clarity of the church clocktower. The rest of you, observe carefully the notes produced.

You see? Your drowsy pupil made a sound almost like a simple country church bell. One, I would dare say, sounds like it were cracked deeply down its side. And this excellent gentleman has produced a sound so clear I dare hazard it would put the great church of Thyre to shame.

And yet, neither of them have performed a different glamour. Each has focused the sound of the bell through the rattle. So what causes these differences? Is it the obvious difference in age, handsomeness, intelligence, diligence, height, weight or even hair colour? Perhaps the very diet differences between these two gentlemen has caused the energies to be different. It can not be the bell and rattle, for they were the same between.

You see, invocations are a complex practice. One that starts with you: the practitioner. You must be acutely aware of the power of your admixture. It is a quantifiable fact that there will be some of you that are just naturally more adapt at the use of the arcane. Some of you will find that your energy only produces the slightest of glamours.

Invariably, you lowly initiates will take this as a sign of superiority. Obviously, those with the weakest energies, the softest of wills must surely be closer to the mundane. They must be just one step away from those completely incapable of practising any magick whatsoever.

And, once again, your prejudice would betray your ignorance.

Some of the greatest sorcerers were those with the weakest personal wills. That is for the simple conclusion that they are able to dilute their essences the easiest. It is a fact that the greatest wills in this class will struggle to produce anything that is not a glamour. And, while the powers of glamours are certainly impressive, your wills will greatly reduce your ability to invoke charms and wards. Consequently, you will also be the least desirable for participation in rituals.

Naturally, it is not raw power that is important but the cunning and wit of one’s mind that is fundamental for the channelling of the arcane. Those with weak wills can focus their invocations through other humans and other objects. They are better able to grasp the concept of using multiple admixtures and proxy foci. They are keen to the supplemental rituals, especially those requiring multiple practitioners to suppress their own wills in the collaborations.

Of course, some of you will argue and rail against my words. I welcome the challenge of your rebelliousness. Some of the greatest sorcerers are those of Teutanic descent, a people that have consistently shown remarkable forces of will. In fact, my greatest and most controversial pupil was of this barbaric ancestry.

And that is, in my mind, because those of strong wills have greater command of the energies that they do channel. While weaker willed practitioners will be very adept at multiple implements and foci, stronger willed practitioners that overcome their own flaws can get the most out of single ingredients than any other.

But enough of that. You came here to learn the basics of invocations.

MAA1871524

Invocations create the bulk of magicks you will channel. They are your daily conjurations and enchantments. They are the skills you will call upon to defend yourself in confrontations. They are the spells you will use to conduct your research.

An invocation is little more than the simple release and channel of the energy from one or more simple ingredients. While they appear to be the simplest of skills in theory, they are also the hardest to create. They require an intimate knowledge of the ingredients and how they react with the self. For this reason, sorcerers naturally find a collection of invocations that they prefer. These are the most familiar invocations. For example, one of my familiars is a refraction glamour – a complex invocation to most but allows me to cause any one item to appear to vanish. Behold the rattle from the earlier demonstration. I want you to watch it carefully.

You see, it has vanished completely from sight. It appears as if I am not even holding it but observe – the slightest flick of my wrist and you can still hear it as clear as day. And before you ask, no I will not teach you this glamour. Why, you may ask, to which I have my own question. What were my components? What were my admixtures?

You didn’t see them, did you. What’s that? No, they were not hidden within the rattle, but that thinking will take you far. Very far indeed.

Observe – you see, I have had this stone beneath my tongue this entire time. The second component I use is the brass of my jacket button. That’s it, just these two simple components. Seems quite  rudimentary  but this is a familiar of mine. It will take most of you at least three more components to create the exact same invocation. Some of you will require even more. And even a couple of you will be unable to perform this without the execution of a secondary ward.

You see, despite all our research and study, the practice of magick is still an intensely personal affair. You can not just read a library of books and understand how to channel the arcane. It requires constant, daily practice. It requires intense study. It requires a persistence and strength of character that not all possess.

Most of you will struggle to ever perform anything beyond the simplest of invocations and may never develop any familiars. However, the study of the arcane is not a worthless pursuit to you. You see, even the dullest of minds can still capitalize on the qualities of components. All of you can practice alchemy.

Alchemy is almost a form of a ritual, you see. It has precise ingredients in specific measurements. It creates arcane effects but it completely removes the human element from the process. It is the channelling by recipe. All those books you see in the studies of the most successful sorcerers are likely to be alchemical books. You needn’t a familiarity to brew. You need just to be able to follow precise instructions.

It appears we have run out of time, however. Tomorrow, we will address the specifics of rituals and then I shall introduce you to the fundamentals of rituals.

A Treatise On Magick Part 2

So when I miss a day of posting, it’s a terrible event and I have to post the next day. When Derek does it, he gets to write it off as “thesis prep.” Seem fair? I don’t think so either. I’ll be sure to drop a box during his move next week to protest this inequality in our posting expectations. That’ll show him! I may even jangle some hangers!

In the meanwhile, I’ll continue posting about the development of my magic system for my first novel. I actually did a short  excerpt as some notes to myself between drafts. My original intention had been to post that but I got a tad long winded during Part 1. So here’s the first bit.

Wauters-Emile-Charles-Scholar_at_the_Table

Scholar at the Table by Wauters Emile Charles

 

A Treatise on Magick

by Scholar Henrik Wulfgang

 

It is a fact that the primeval energy of the cosmos flows through all things. Within each object, each natural item beats the softest drum of the universe’s heart. The vibrations from these essences can be felt through the natural aether that buoys all objects. A trained mind can perceive these vibrations, can sense their differing frequencies and react with them.

This is the core principle of magick. It requires the carefully trained and honed senses of the practitioner to navigate the aether and its cacophony of noise to pinpoint the source of certain frequencies. A trained practitioner recognizes the very same frequencies that they, themselves, project and learn to focus and manipulate their own projections in order to funnel the natural energies through the aether to produce the desired results. In this manner, a practitioner could funnel the heat energy of a flame into a focused concentration around the reactive energy of another object to create a spontaneous combustion.

However, it requires more than just mere concentration of one’s own energy to manipulate the aether. Due to man’s natural own peculiarities in their own projections, they cause certain repeatable contaminations to different sources which either interfere with their channelling or mutate it into a wholly different form through a process known as transmutation.

It is this mixing of different energies that gave rise to the classification of different magicks and to the development of the glamours in particular. It seems that man’s higher cognitive functioning often transforms even the basest and wildest energies into a subtle perceptual form. It is the belief of this scholar that human energy contains within it a certain higher quintessence that has a profound energizing effect upon most energies. This excites the energy frequencies, causing them to work on a higher level output. While this would create a diffusion of concentrated power, this scholar feels it is a more pure and divine creation that turns even the rawest energy form into something more sophisticated.

Human channelled energies can thusly be a vivid representation of their primal forms but to be elevated to such a level that they no longer possess the entropic qualities of their previous sources. Simply put, human transformed energy is insubstantial. It is more cerebral. It works on a perceptive level while being channelled harmlessly on a physical sense. A human practitioner can turn the raw fiery essence of heat into a blinding conflagration to the senses but leave the actual natural world unaffected by the energies. It turns highly reactive substances and makes them inert. It makes even the most languid of energies fluid and flowing.

skull-optical-illusion-1These are what the laymen call illusions. Because these energies lack a lasting impact, they are under the impression that the energy never truly existed in the first place. This is incorrect. Energy always exists within the aether, it is just the manipulation of that energy that creates the different effects. Essentially, man can move the energies about the aether of their own accord regardless of the natural frictions inherent in the rest of the essences.

Because of man’s natural affinity to the production of glamours, these techniques are typically the first taught to the initiates. While it takes a tremendous amount of skill and at least some creativity to form these glamours into the most remarkable forms witnessed, the basic glamours are quite easy for beginning initiates to grasp. One need only to step into the classroom to hear the phantom sounds of the beginner effortlessly ringing about the hall to understand our own natural affinities.

This scholar believes the reason for this affinity is due, in part, to man’s highly developed social sense. Few animals appear to possess the natural tendency to perceive and interact with high order social structures and these complex relationships are wholly unfeasible in lower based life. Quite often, the status and rank of a member is determined by almost imperceptible cues and indicators and, as such, our minds are primed to attentiveness for these subtle elements. It is in manipulating this natural propensity that a practitioner can trigger the most subtle of man’s perceptions and play into his natural biases.

While glamours may be the most common, they are certainly not the only skill to be taught. The second classification of magick arose  through the manipulation and experimentation of various other substances.

Wards are based on the unmoving energies of rocks and earth. While man has a very transient energy, earth does not. It is this immovability, this unyielding force that gave rise to the development of the wards. These are, perhaps, the sorcerer’s most famous abilities. These are static, focused fields that require a physical sourced anchor. The first wards were protective, creating fields that would alert the practitioner to any outside influence that disturbed its natural order.2006.19_PS6

However, through the careful application of transmutation, wards could be created to produce just about anything. Most remarkable are the anti-magick wards. These incredibly powerful fields dampen and restrict the flow of aether through their area. Most will weaken the abilities of a sorcerer within, reducing the amount of energy they can channel from all sources. The most powerful, however, can reduce the movement of energy so much that a sorcerer can find that he is just unable to channel enough energy to produce any magickal effect at all!

As with all magicks, the advancement of the knowledge on wards came through the creative use of their energies. Some sorcerers were able to create small, inverted fields that rippled within the aether at such a frequency that they could be tracked far further than one could naturally. Other fields flow through the natural energies of their areas that they can accurately reproduce any changes within, allowing a sorcerer to sense all activity within its area.

The final field of magickal inquiry is in the charm classification. The most recent magickal discovery, through the application of advanced channelling techniques, many prominent scholars have demonstrated that the natural energies of items can be increased or decreased if properly admixed with similar or opposing energies. Thus, a sorcerer could physically turn a small flame into a roaring blaze or turn the strike of a thunderbolt into the most harmless of jolts. These charms are, perhaps, the most misunderstood by the layman’s mind.

To the uninitiated, charms can give the impression that the sorcerer is conjuring or creating new energies seemingly from nowhere. As previously state, this is impossible within the aether. To create a flame from nothing, that object must first have a very reactive energetic source. Then, the practised sorcerer could fill that source with even greater reactive energy that causes that source to ignite, reaching its potential energetic state.

The practical application of these techniques, however, are rarely so obvious. A charm can make just about anything better: a charmed sword is sharper, a charmed sweetroll is sweeter and a charmed door is stronger. Likewise, one could induce a state of weakness into substances by interposing contrary energies. The trained sorcerer could cause a new sword to become rusted and brittle, the tastiest cake to turn dry and bland or make even the sturdiest wall crumble at the slightest touch.

However, in order for any charms to reach such effectiveness, the sorcerer must have an intimate knowledge of the properties of its target and their spell’s ingredients. They must know the exact type of energy produced by sandstone compared to marble in order to properly enhance or detract from it. Otherwise, they will find they have burned through their ingredients and produced nothing or worst, cause an aetheric flareback from the unused energies. Furthermore, a sorcerer must be careful to not naturally contaminate the spell with their own innate energy else they will produce a rather useless glamour effect which will do nothing but reveal the amateur abilities of the practitioner.

These three techniques – glamours, wards and charms – form the foundation of modern magickal study. They are well established principles from which all other research is based. The proposed existence of other techniques or forms of energy are wholly hearsay lacking any applicable empirical evidence. Most are based on the exaggerated accounts of historical abilities captured by past historians working with an incomplete knowledge of magickal practice and theory.

To understand further the magickal practices and how a sorcerer can use these principles in a practical setting, I would like to draw the curious reader to my next paper on the components of Ritual and Invocation.

A Treatise on Magick – Thyre Part 1

heroicla

Heroic Landscape with Rainbow by Joseph Anton Koch (1815)

So, I wrote a fantasy novel.

I feel one of the hallmarks of fantasy writing is the magic. People love stories of wizards, witches, sorcerers and what have you. King Arthur had his Merlin and Morgana. Shakespeare had his Weird Sisters. In a sense, magic is the easiest way to express the core of the genre. It gives a sense of wonder, excitement and intrigue that lets the imagination free from the expectations and rules of the mundane. It inherently is mysterious. The reader never truly understands how magic works. Partly because the characters themselves don’t know. It’s magical.

However, being who I am, this wouldn’t do when creating my fantasy world. First, I was setting my fiction in a much later time period that general fantasy. My societies have had their Enlightenments. They’ve already gone through their age of superstition where the unknown was an omnipresent entity and their lives were guided by elements and forces beyond their keen. They have studied. They have learned. They have begun to categorize the life around them and tease apart the elements of their world. Of course, they’re mostly on the breaking point of this revolution of thought but to give that sense of no longer leaving the explanations for daily life in the hands of mysterious otherworldly beings there needed to be some theories for why magic existed.

So I had to create a system.

But where do you begin?

I knew that my story was going to have a greater emphasis on steampunk. I also wanted the world to be somewhat familiar to our own. Furthermore, I have a personal bias against high fantasy and all three of these elements naturally led me to a low magic impact. There weren’t going to be giant stomping suits of magitek kicking around. Steam and electricity were the wonders of the age, not doddering old men waving their hands. I felt I wanted magic to be less this awe-inspiring, grandiose affair and something that had become almost forgotten. Sure, you would have some elements worked into everyday life but for the most part the average citizen didn’t feel the weight of spells. I didn’t want my narrative being hijacked by some mad sorcerer with the aims to ruin the world and the ability to reign hellfire from the skies.

But I didn’t want magic to feel isolated either. Merlini is almost cut off from the rest of Avalon and the knights with his studies and his abilities. The world isn’t shaped by those great wizards of legend. They were there as just mystics who dispensed helpful advice or a timely incantation despite the apparent ability to turn into anything they wanted or to shake the foundations of reality itself (depending on who’s telling the story of course). I did like the idea of a faded glory, however. That there were sorcerers who looked back on those legends fondly believing them to accurate tellings of the day. For them myth and legend were the stored records of an age long past where magic controlled the fates of nations and people looked upon those wielders with respect and awe.

Instead of seeing them as conning charlatans just looking to weasel a little more money from you.

I’ll confess, in our age of skepticism, this is hardly a unique point of view. But I felt it would add that element tension towards change that I wanted to capture with my story. The institute of magic was something that was old tradition. They were used to prominence but in the wave of technological advancement they were being slowly brushed aside. Here were men who had once felt they had all of creation in their palm and now few would give them the time of day.

And to insure this, I had to have limits on magic. I had to come up with the reasons for the fall of mysticism. Arthur C. Clarke famously stated that “An reasonably advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. ” I took that idea and ran with it. Not only could technology produce what magic could, but it could do it better. A gun can kill a person with the pull of a trigger. A spell could kill a person but it would require you to sit and mumble and wave your hands and possibly sacrifice a goat while you’re at it. Given the two options, any reasonable person would take the gun over magic.

So my magic had to be unwieldy. It had to be inconvenient. It demanded sacrifice and it produced often results that in this day and age were unsatisfactory. Before the explosion of inventions from the industrial revolution, magic would have been really swell when there were no alternatives to produce the results. But once everyone could light their houses by just installing some gas piping, people are going to wonder if keeping a sorcerer on staff and constantly paying for his supplies is really worth it.

Sir_Isaac_Newton_(1643-1727)

Stodgy old Newton. He probably didn’t even like apples.

But even with this fall of magic, I still liked its existence. The rules and limitations of the practice would be seemingly well understand by my societies. But just like physics felt like there was nothing else to learn after Newton’s Laws, I wanted to leave room for the current understanding to be wrong and there to be something more. Magic is, after all, a systematic way of explaining the workings of our universe. And even in our day and age with quantum theories we still struggle to come up with an all encompassing scientific theory that explains all phenomena. In the end I didn’t need a system that would accurately explain how magic worked. I needed a system that adequately explained the magic that could work at that time.

I had my feel for my system but none of the particulars. I hadn’t quite yet worked out the particulars or how it all fit in the big picture. That would take extra work and tweaking. And to find out what I made, you’ll have to wait for a later post.

The Noble Truths (Vacay Post 2)

Day two of my exciting remiss adventures leaves you with something a little different. Awhile ago, I made a post about the short creation history of a shared world that Derek and I are/were working on. I teased that I may give a bit more detail and for you, lucky reader, I fulfill that promise.

Yes, this is a Plemora post – the unfortunate world created from Derek’s own typos. It is a world that I find quite fascinating. It is really the first ‘alternate reality’ world that I created. Generally, I prefer fabricating my own reality where I’m given unfettered license in developing the people, history, science and understanding of everything. The one thing I enjoy about the fantasy genre is the complete artistic freedom you’re granted by your readership. They are, initially, willing to accept just about anything whether it be talking hamsters or entire cities powered by nothing more than bottle souls.

But Plemora doesn’t try that. It draws its fantasy from the unknowns of our understanding. It leans heavily on our past and our world, teasing at the familiar and lulling its audience into a sense of false security before completely upending all expectations. In a sense, it’s based on Lovecraftian horror. It draws on the areas of the unknown, filling them with horrors and wonders beyond our comprehension. But for these entities to work, it must create that initial familiar element. Yes, it is a world that unabashedly takes place on Earth around our proximate time.

It also is designed within the confines of a game system. Today’s particular element was developed from the initial musings of player ‘classes.’ I wanted to develop within the world a system of unique play experiences that would give players and game masters the freedom to play whatever sort of story they desired. The initial creation was focused around the demon ‘half-breeds’ of people suddenly ripped into a greater understanding of the world than they had before the moment of their ‘curse.’ However, there were other entities and peoples stalking the shadows and moving before the masses who had no idea the true nature of those that walked amongst them.

Usually when one talks about classes in a role-playing game, they are looking at something like a profession. Thieves, wizards and fighters are really just a representation of a character’s training before the start of their grand quest. Whether they be pupils or self-taught, it codifies a vast array of experiences and distills into into common attributes shared amongst its members. I didn’t want the same for Plemora and, given its philosophical bent, I settled upon the idea that class was a representation of belief. Ultimately, no one knew the true nature of universe and why there were demons and other planes of existence. But everyone had their own explanation.

What follows is a few of these ‘noble truths.’ Which one the player belongs to would ultimately shape how he conceptualized the world around himself and thus explain how he fueled and believed in the powers he wielded. What follows is pulled from my notes on the world, so some of it might be formatted a little strangely. Given that it’s from my notes, some concepts may not have the most clear classification yet, as well.

a-concise-demonology-L-6mdlMp

The one interesting thing about history is sometimes you don’t have to do the work in making the weird. Actual magic and demonology is far stranger than anything I have ever created and something I can heavily draw upon for this world building. It helps a creator be a little educated in a lot of things.

The Noble Truths

 These philosophies act as a lens, colouring everything which a person sees and believes. Thus, it would be impossible for a person to be “multi-classed” as these theologies are almost completely incongruent with each other.

Daemonkin are a special kind of class. Completely at the mercy of Enlightened individuals, daemonkin don’t have to follow any of the Noble Truths as their powers derive from the essence impregnated into them from someone or somewhere else. Daemonkin are not really a class onto themselves but generally do not hold a class, as an Enlightened individual would not want to have a daemon within them and would be strong enough to reject the parasite.

Daemonkin are essentially the hosts of a greater Enlightened entity who has been weakened and infects an individual in order to survive. Consequently, being a Daemonkin prevents an individual from adopting a class so long as they are infected. Their powers stem solely from the belief of the entity residing in them and they feed upon their host preventing the ‘body’ from achieving its own, separate understanding so long as the stronger consciousness resides within. The Daemonkin essentially feeds her parasite too much energy to elevate beyond the plane of the mundane but the parasite grants her the powers and possibly knowledge to interact with the worlds beyond our own. Curing a Daemonkin of their daemon would, theoretically, place the host in a greater position to achieve Enlightenment but since they rely on the parasite as a crutch it could, paradoxically, make ascension even more difficult than an unaware individual.

 

The Noble Truths

 

title

Title page of Iconologia by Cesare Ripa (1603)

The Magus

The magus is privy to the most startling Truth than any other class. The Magus has awakened to the great potential within himself, realizing that every individual carries a spark of the divine within themselves. This spark can be honed, trained and strengthened. Through this spark, the individual creates their reality as they see fit. The stronger the spark, the greater their reality bends to their whims. In essence, there are billions upon billions of realities, one for each individual. They are as real and tangent as every other – to an extent. The stronger the individual’s spark, the stronger their own vision is. Through training, focus, meditation and ritual, a Magus can strengthen their spark and gain more control over their reality while shunting away those that conflict with their own. Their greatest difficulty is when their realities overlap with others. For a Magus to exert his will in these circumstances, he must be able to overcome the conflicting rules to his own desires. The overlaps are like a wave, and each builds upon itself. Since unenlightened individuals tend to share similar beliefs and congregate together to survive, a Magus has the hardest time enacting his will in these circumstances. The unawakened naturally form a strong, coherent understanding of their own shared world.

The Magi are aware that these change depending on the nature of the shared community. The realities of North America before the arrival of the Europeans was much different than that after contact. Thus, Magi must not perform “magic” before the unenlightened. But magic is merely what falls beyond the accepted outcome for the immediate community. In Medieval Europe, old Magi could prey on the superstitions and ignorance of these isolated communities. Peasants are farm more willing to believe in wicked individuals capable of twisting a lost farmer’s form into that of a toad than the modern, science driven communities of the present whose shared beliefs deem such a power impossible.Of course, the strength of these shared visions diminishes with the less numbers that are present to view it. A Magi performing before a single, average person will find the antagonistic belief of the unawakened much weaker than if she were surrounded by a group of her friends. So easy is it to prey on the insecurities and self-doubt of the few compared to the many.

Furthermore, even many Enlightened individuals’ realities are so strong that a Magus must bend to their will. While most Enlightened understand and accept magic as a truth, some truly alien entities can be so powerful in their own right as to crush the Magi’s exertion before its very presence. Ironically, the mere sight of these entities are often so strong as to completely shatter the beliefs of the unawakened that it can open many to the possibilities of Enlightenment and allow the Magus to exert before those witnesses.

A Magus has unlimited power, as long as he is able to overcome this force (probably going to be called the Collective Unconscious). Due to a very self oriented bend; the Magus probably relies heavily upon Jungian concepts and themes to supplement his Noble Truth. Magic isn’t impossible before the unawakened, it just relies on how creative and insidious the Magus can be in working his will within the expectations of those around him. Given their focus and typical organization of knowledge, the Magi are perhaps one of the most dedicated Truths to Transcendence.

 

 

1gates06

Detail of the Gates of Hell by Auguste Rodin (1880-1890)

The Demon

Demons are almost a catch-all. They are the Enlightened that know there is something ‘else’ yet don’t ascribe to the conventional wisdom and organization. They believe that the other Paths are ‘lies’ and only a means of controlling others or exploiting them. They either achieved enlightenment through individual means (e.g. witnessing angels and demons fighting and being ‘open’ enough to accept what they were seeing, discovering long lost knowledge and accepting that ancient wisdom etc…), rejecting some other path (e.g. the proverbial ‘Fallen Angel’, disgruntled Magi apprentices, a martial artist that forsaken his master etc…), by making pacts with higher energy beings (e.g. Faustian approach) or any number of similar methods. Because of the numerous ways for them to achieve Enlightenment, the other Truths find it exceedingly difficult to control their numbers and accounts for why Demons have existed since the beginning of time and still thrive today (as the Atheist or Technocrat gains power). They are the undisciplined. They are the reason that every Noble Truth exists. Their Truth, though, is the most startling Truth for the other paths; that their path is unneeded. They are the embodiment of the unknown and the chaotic. They are the personification of entropy, existing without reason and taking their entire lives. For them, the Truth is themselves. The universe is an uncontrollable mess where only the strongest, most clever or traitorous can hope to survive. For that is the Demon’s only purpose: to survive. Thus, Demons are hated by everyone.

They are seen as trouble and most often are. They live in a dog eat dog world, with everyone after them and no honour among their fellows. They are the most numerous Enlightened, and often are the ones that will prey upon the Atheists. However, Demons are the least likely to Transcend, as they have no structure and no order to allow them the growth to achieve Transcendence. Some manage to, however, finding wisdom and knowledge in the untrodden Path that is unavailable through the other structured Truths.

Draper_Herbert_James_Mourning_for_Icarus

Lament for Icarus by Herbert James Draper (1898)

The Angel

And here is where my notes become date. I changed the name of this group and shifted them beneath the Daemonkin banner. I’m including them here as a slight reminder of the origins and because they have a neat interaction with the fundamental principles of the world.

This philosophy stresses a strong hierarchy with clearly defined roles. Whereas the typical Daemonkin feeds by taking the energy of those around them, an angel is granted their energy from a higher being. In turn, the angel directs his faith and belief to this higher power who is granted the power to give to the angel by someone further above them. Essentially, an energy pyramid scheme based solely around a trickle down effect. Initiates are thus extremely numerous and extremely powerless. These could be considered the average belief in the faith structure. They’re mostly the foundation which supports the whole organization. Each Initiate provides limited power but has almost no connection to those above them. Individually, they are forgettable but in great enough numbers their combined contribution is staggering. Right above them are the Disciples. Most of these people are about as remarkable as the average Initiate though they are far more devouted to their cause. This greater devotion provides just enough belief to register on the higher powers map. At any time, a greater power can infuse a Disciple – basically inserting themselves into these devotees and creating a Daemonkin. But since this higher power in turn is connected to an even greater being above her with an even deeper connection, there can be a far stronger flow of energy between the higher planes and the lower.

Consequently, the appearance of an Angel is typically a momentousness event. A single Angel can take on scores of Daemonkin without alone as they are beings used to dealing with the likes of Archons and Demons. But this direct flow of energy is extremely taxing to pump so much power to a lower plane and their physical presence is temporary at best before their benefactors must ‘turn off the tap’ so to speak. What rare communication with these beings has provided little insight into their structure beyond the basics, however. What lies at the top is a mystery and many suspect the Angels don’t even know themselves. Disciples and Initiates claim that their power is evidence of a true God and that they are blessed by this entity. But the Enlightened disagree and many whisper that the true head is nothing but a monstrous Demon with unheard of power and influence. Perhaps even the creature known as the Demiurge himself.

1sextus

The Return of Marcus Sextus by Pierre-Narcisse Guerin (1799)

The Atheist

And here you can see where my naming scheme started getting lazy.

An atheist is a person who doesn’t believe in a Noble Truth. Their strength lies in their power of Discord. Every unenlightened has a level of Discord. The stronger the discord, the less effective any Enlightened abilities have on that individual. This discord manifests as skepticism. An atheist puts their belief not in any path, maintaining that the only real Truth is a lack of Truth altogether. For Enlightened, the typical atheist is nothing more but wasted energy. Due to their inexact, uncertain and contradictory beliefs, none of the Atheist’s philosophies can be considered a Truth but the stronger they adhere to their own views the greater their Discord grows. Examples of powerful Discordians are: scientists, philosophers, leaders, Eris Discordians (who are well aware of the contradictions and chaos inherent in their philosophy and yet still worship it. They are probably some of the strongest Atheists, often can exert power rivaling that of an Enlightened.).

 

Picasso_Portrait_of_Daniel-Henry_Kahnweiler_1910

Portrait of Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler by Pablo Picasso (1910)

The Technocrat

This path is almost an extension of Atheism. It is the dogmatic belief of the scientific community in no ‘greater’ or ‘higher’ authority. No Gods or Kings, so to speak. The only thing that exists is what one sees with their own eyes, and yet the Technocrats are so close-minded that their ‘selective vision’ will only see what concurs within their own theories. However, they have grown very powerful over the years, easily surpassing the other great Truths in number and influence. This truth lies in the power of observation, in fact and knowledge. It is the certainty which experience of the senses brings. Their truths are easy to comprehend and easier to demonstrate. Thus, their principles have become the standard for the modern era. But they diverge from atheism in one important aspect.

The ideal scientist should be an Atheist, open to new ideas and concepts no matter how incredulous it seems. An Atheist could accept that the corners of the map could truly be where monsters lie. But the Technocrat is more the conservative, dogmatic and emboldened by his own belief and faith in his methods. For the Technocrat, there are no other possibilities than his own. No alternatives are to be considered. In an ironic twist, Technocrats devotion can strengthen their own creations, making things that should not work to and thus proving their hypothesis and reinforcing their faith. So strong is their belief in their right that some are able to lock down or disrupt other creations, making other machinations dissipate or crumble, disproving rival hypotheses and leaving theirs dominant. It is like a greater Tesla/Edison rivalry but over spirituality and belief. The winner doesn’t so much as disprove his rivals theory as alter reality so it can never be true.

 

triptico_Johfra_gnosis

Unio Myst by Johfra Bosschart.

The Gnosis

The most elusive Truth. Gnostic Truth maintains that some harmony or unity is to be found amongst the disparate and contradictory paths. To them, each represents a piece of a greater puzzle with Transcendence just another component and not the goal. Much of the Gnosis belief lies beyond a language of theology or philosophy and places great importance in experience. The current world known to many is flawed simply because it was created by flawed hands. These imperfections, they say, are what gave rise to the other Truths which became focused on their own element at the exclusion of the others. Other Truths have come and gone, falling before the strengths of others or forgotten for new beliefs.

But the worship of a piece is shortsighted without ever considering the whole picture. The Gnostic seek to find that final unifying element that will bring all together. For it is their belief that we are all parts of a greater, fractured whole and only through true unity can this broken existence be properly mended.

World Building: the Start of Something

Where do ideas come from? How are worlds created? What is this elusive element that sparks a story? What is at the heart of world building?

What little I have learned suggests these are personal questions; the answers differing from one individual to the next. Though I have not a vast resume of credentials I have taken my first tentative steps along the path of world creation.

My first complete story of any length is set in the city of Darattin located half-way along the Undat River in the Valley. The story started with three desires that grew and shifted over time. It is almost comical to reflect back on earlier passages, many of which have been cut or heavily edited. At times I am left wondering if anything of the original idea remains.

Of course, the question then becomes, what was the original idea? Searching through the haze of memory I can recall three primary goals I held when I began this project: to create an exotic landscape, to include the rebirth of magic and incorporate my interest in rocks.

For a setting that was unfamiliar, I chose Egypt as my environment model. What could be so different from my own home of deciduous trees, rolling farm fields and four distinct seasons? A deep blue river snakes through my lush green valley. The green is largely planted fields, fed by irrigation canals. Rain is a rare concept, something that happens in the mountains to the south. Beyond the Valley walls are the scrublands and great sand deserts – harsh environs that few can survive. The people of the Valley are led by a single ruler, a god-king. Only recently have they been united beneath one figure and there remains tension between to the two great provinces of Kuras and Gazurn.

Magic is the more interesting of creatures when developing fantasy worlds. For me, several questions had to be answered: What is the nature of magic? What would cause magic to vanish from the lands? How can magic return and why now?

I wanted to ground my magic in rocks – geomancy. This was not to be the only style of magic in my world; geomancy was to be the form that dominated my story. What were the limitations? What were the explanations for magic? One of my favourite scenes was written between the main character and the spirit of a dead geomancer relating magic to dreaming. There were three levels: recognition, acceptance and manipulation. You must first recognize you are dreaming. Second, you must accept you are dreaming. Then you can manipulate your dream. Magic worked along similar lines: of recognizing magic in the world around you, acceptance/understanding of the magic and finally manipulation. This in turn led to the manifestation of magic: divination, small works (speeding up natural processes) and large works (creation). Most magic revolves around divination.

Since magic for me was to be inherent in the environment I did not have it disappearing from the world. Rather it was the peoples understanding and skill that was lost over time. This related to the conflict between northern Kuras and southern Gazurn. So rediscovery of magic was the discovery of ancient texts, those few pieces that had survived destruction when the northerners had conquered the south.

While the foundations of environment and magic had been present in the first written scenes, there is little doubt that much has changed over the subsequent revisions. Not only has the world become clearer and more defined, my own understanding of these two concepts has continued to develop. The greatest changes have occurred to characters and plot. It took a long time to tease out the story I was going to tell in this world. What started out as a fetch quest has evolved into something completely different. Yet, in its most simple and basic form the original ideas are present: an exotic location, the rediscovery of magic and most importantly, rocks.

My Writing Process: Something Different

I think I made mention of this earlier but I’m currently in the throes of attempting to write a full novel (90k words) in one month. Which leaves me with 3k words a day. Which leaves me with little time to do any actual writing.

So, this has led to the recent spat of back to back D&D stories. Well, to try and break some of the monotony, I’m going to post a bit of my creative process instead. As a forewarning, this is my rough work so is wholly unedited as it isn’t really meant to see the light of day. This is more akin to a quick peek at someone’s unmentionables. They’re worn for comfort but with the sole expectation that others won’t see them.

(But why do we buy ones with such interesting designs then, you ask. Well… shut up. The analogy works. Sort of.)

The current story I’m working on is a lighthearted idea at land piracy. Since I knew I was going to be running a facsimile of a crew, I needed to have a collection of fairly detailed individuals to populate my “ship” with. To set about defining and developing these individuals, I had two important steps. The first was to come up with a base outline – a bunch of thoughts and idea of this character’s appearance and personality.

So, let’s take the example of the first mate.

Here is my character sketch for Walter Samuel Schroeder:

Walton Samuel Schroeder (Schroeder) – Second in command. Landed gentry, old world blood and attitude, the youngest son of a colonial governor and plantation owner. Insufferable gambler and louse whose debts often precede his reputation. Daddy cut him off from his stipends in an effort to curb his limitless spending. But ‘just because we live in the colonies doesn’t mean we have to live like a colonial.’ Instead of finding honest work and pay turned to the life of an outlaw. Hates his name and usually referred by his last. Breast pockets, polished shoes, clean shaves, stacked decks and imported alcohol are his trademarks.

From here, I took some time to try and write a scene from their perspective. I find working from a character’s point of view and trying to see the world through their eyes really helps to bring them to life in my mind. When forced to consider their ideals and put them in conflicts that they must react to do I develop more and more of their personality. For this exercise, I chose to write them in a “bubble” that would try and extract as much of their personality as I could. I took a setting that I felt really encapsulated the idea I had for them and tried to create a situation that would shine them in the most revealing light. This also gives me the added bonus of developing and playing with my setting in ways that may never come up in the story proper.

For my insufferable gambler, this manifested in a paddle boat casino:

Walton Samuel Schroeder II
“If you ain’t holding aces and eights, it might be high time you backed down son.”
A twitch of whiskers and puff of smoke was the response. The two men passed daggers across the table. A sizable bounty lay between them but neither feigned to pay it attention. Their focus was more on the read of the other. They searched for some unforgiving tell.
Neither could be more unalike. Bradley Meyer was likened to a tough bite of roughened leather. The plains and sun had worked hard his body, creating thick skin that seemed cracked and split from the long years. A shaggy mane spilled beneath this crooked derbie – a mess of black and silver caked with the dust of the trails. A great matching moustache bristled beneath a bulbous nose that flared any time the man’s ire rose.
Which, if his epitaph were accurate, was quite often. The Untamed Meyer had a fearsome reputation on the plains as he did at the table. He took no prisoners and he gave no quarter. Few dared to take his challenge and those that did passed judgement to the wind in favour of the bulging sack by his side.
Almost all paid in the end. If careless words were truth, either with their pockets or their souls.
But every caravan needed its mule and the pompous smile on the young dallier across the carved mahogany seemed like tonight’s.
And Walton Samuel Schroeder II looked the fool.
He lounged amongst a throne of silken cushions, his left arm hanging loosely around the shoulders of some exotic creature. With painted eyes and woven black hair, she leaned crimson lips to whisper in his ear but Schroeder merely smiled before waving with his right.
On cue, a second exquisite creature slipped to his side, a cup held in her petite fingers. Schroeder raised the wine in salute to his adversary as his pet leaned into him, her fingers playing amongst the carved ivory buttons of his stylish silken vest. Elegant curving patterns of the western peoples depicted stylish clouds and waves on a soft sea of deep azure.
Or were they Eastern styles? If there was one thing that blended on this great smoke spewing paddle boat, it was the cardinal points. Red paper lanterns swung from their nailed lines with strange symbols adorning their crisp sides than any alphabet. It was a world where tight clasped cheongsam dresses blended with ribbed bodices and puffed sleeves. On this polished wood deck, the lion and the dragon entwined in a chaotic and dizzying dance that melded them both into one grotesque creation.
And Schroeder breathed it all in. The dry husk of smoking tobacco and sickeningly sweet opium filled the evening sky into an intoxicating perfume. The chatter was a mish-mash of two old languages struggling against one another but the laughter was all the same. At the height of nauseating drunkenness, it always washed away to be the same.
And with the tailored legs of his pants crossed, Schroeder bounced an impatient polished shoe in the air. This was his world and while Untamed Meyer may rule the wild open plains, these painted rails and puffing smokestacks were the younger man’s. And its king was getting restless.
“Begging your pardon,” Schroeder intoned in an accent only found by those wishing for the airs across the sea, “but this voyage ain’t getting shorter. You’ll be putting down that hand either way but if you be parading their pretty little faces, I want to see you shine this deck.”
He patted the tabletop with a pristine white glove.
Untamed Meyer’s nostrils flared.
He bent the tips of his cards. It was his fatal mistake. Schroeder could see that flicker of doubt, the nervous flinch in his prodding thumb. The man held nothing. Perhaps he had hoped to strong arm the young man into submission like the empty chairs around the table. He seemed more adept in staring daggers than dealing cards. But his attempt to address the pistol handle by leaning forward and adjusting his jacket was only an effective method to those that felt they had more to lose than their coin. And in a game less about playing cards and more about playing the people, it was a disastrous assumption.
“I ain’t be aiming to wait for this wine to get better.”
Untamed Meyer grunted. Then he did something quite extraordinary.
He played his hand.
With dismay, Schroeder watched the traitorous face of Machabeus overturned with a matching pair of nines.
It wasn’t a decent hand but that bearded prince held a far more dangerous sword. For Schroeder had dealt the young man to himself for a pair of princes that certainly beat Meyer’s hand but revealed the gambler for the cheat he was.
And yet, that was a lot of money to be had on the table.
Schroeder set down his cup.
“How modest but the world is not made by small hands.”
Schroeder revealed twin aces from his hand. He stood holding, offering his foe an apologetic shrug.
“Perhaps next time.”
The young man began to collect his ill gotten gains.
But Bradley Meyer burst from his chair, a wicked knife appearing in his hand and slamming into the wood mere inches from Schroeder’s glove. The ladies on the couch gasped at this sudden ruthlessness and the din around the two men began to quiet.
“I want to see the rest.”
“You’ve been beat, my fellow. Perhaps it’s best to accept your-”
Meyer snatched the young man’s pinned cravat, lifting him roughly from the ground and upon the table.
“Show me.”
His lips snarled, revealing a set of yellow and rotted keys protruding from his gums. The decayed stench of whiskey and lawlessness wafted from his mouth. Eyes narrowed beneath thick, bushy dark brows.
Schroeder coughed.
“Very well.”
The hand released his throat and he stumbled to the ground, rubbing his neck softly. He turned and coughed to clear his airway, motioning to his hat with his eyes while his head was turned and he could see one of his girls. She merely cocked her head back.
Schroeder turned back, smiling. He bowed dramatically, holding his right hand at the small of his back and pointing frantically at his resting chapeau. With his left, he displayed the three remaining cards, slowly turning over a seven of swords.
“And the next.”
Schroeder wiggled his right fingers before turning over a six of coins.
“One more.”
At last he felt the brim of his cap pressed into his waiting hand. Schroeder slowly picked the card from its place upon the wood. He held it before him, staring deep into the dead warriors eyes and musing if, perchance, that were not some mischievous twinkle captured upon the card. Trickery was no more a foreign mistress to the field of battle as it was to the playground of confidence.
“The coup de grace!”
Schroeder snapped the card at Meyer’s face. In one broad stroke he swept his arm over the pot, raking as much of the clattering coins into his awaiting cap before mounting the table. His polished shoes squeaked over its surface as he stepped towards his ally who rubbed at the sting where the card struck his skin before he looked down to see the duplicate grinning back. When next he turned to his rival, Schroeder’s polished shoe was connecting with his temple.
“Ladies, as always, it’s been a pleasure!”
He tossed a handful of coins at the cushions before leaping from the table and dashing across the deck.
Moments later, the familiar crack of a pistol chased after him.
“I’ll split you from nose to navel you weasel!”
The party gave a gasp as the gentleman burst through them. Coins and bills fluttered from the cap bouncing in his pack, leaving a valuable trail as he duck and wove amongst the dresses and dress coats lining the paddle steamer’s deck. This was not a jaunty two-step but nor was it an unfamiliar dance to Schroeder’s feet.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” he offered as he burst through the side door and nearly collided with the serving girl holding a delicate platter in her hands. “Rough day at the tables.”
She stared back from a dark, uncomprehending face as he bound down the stain wood corridor. Shortly after, the crash of the platter informed Schroeder his pursuer was hot on his tail.
A lady of delicate fortitude gave a shriek as he skidded around the corner, nearly colliding with her great bustle. The gentleman at her neck quickly disentangled himself, puffing up his chest in indignation. Schroeder gave a raise of his hat in poor substitution for a tip of his hat. But the offered condolences were cut short as a crash of broken glass and ripple of thunder announced Meyer’s volley.
Schroeder took to his heels once more.
Doors opened as unsuspecting patrons investigated the noise. With surprising agility, the gentleman twisted and bounded about the protrusions, bursting out upon the deck of the great, red steamer. He leaned over the rail, attempting to gauge his best route of departure. He spotted an escape boat dangling from its ropes just off the port bow.
The crash behind him was all the motivation he needed. As raised voices echoed out the corridor, he put shoe to rail and dropped from the second story deck, landing roughly on the floor below. Guests gave a great shout and men stood from their tables. A few enterprising individuals took the distraction to pocket a few of their own earnings, Schroeder noticed. He stood, brushing his suit and sighing at the scuffs on the knees. And he’d just purchased these trousers.
He cast a quick look skyward.
Meyer burst from the cabins, slapping his palms against the rail. His six shooter clattered against the wood as he leaned over, scanning the crowd for his quarry. Schroeder gave the man a cheeky wave.
The ruffian raised his pistol, unloading a round at the scampering man.
But now things had gone too far.
A few of the patrons turned to their own coats, retrieving their own pistols to bear against the unprovoked shooter. With circumstances unclear, these free men were not going to let some outlaw disrupt their perfectly pleasure night of cards.
Meyer ducked behind the rail, returning what fire he could. Tables were overturned to the shrieks of hysterical women. A firefight erupted as the horn blared in a futile attempt to wrestle back some civility. The crew of the steamer emerged, looking on in horror at the disruption of their business but unsure whose side they should support. Schroeder made to the deck, crawling on gloves and knees towards his blessed escape.
Bullets struck tables, splintering debris in worrying close proximity as he slid his hat. He paused before one table still upright, his hand snaking to its surface and patting its way until he caught the slim stem of the crystal glass. He brought to wine to safety, sampling its heady scent before raising it to his dry throat.
He motioned to pass on but caught the distressed look of one gentlewoman with a glove pressed against her heaving bosom. Schroeder offered a congenial smile, passing the crystal to her surprised hand before raising fingers to his forehead and presenting a flourish to his departure.
The lady was quick to quiet her nerves.
A stamping of boots and shouts signalled reinforcement to the confusion and Schroeder peered over the lip of a table to gauge the development. A man in crisp Thyrian military garb shouted over the din, hefting a mighty rifle to his hands. He cried for peace, letting out one great shot into the air for attention. A brief respite was bought in the firefight.
“This disturbance is over by decree of her majesty!”
Alas, the great tributaries of the Misi Ziibi were far afield of the eastern coast and the iron influence of the loyalists. There was much bad blood that had washed down its waters. Blood of men who held more vitriol for the crown and Queen than to the strange foreigners with their long moustaches and trailing hair knots. Here were waters far from the steel fingers of the rail works, running own the spine of that unbridled land where only the wild and the uncivilized chose to dwell.
The soldier would have been better served sticking to his room and his whores. That bad blood burned an older fire that was far brighter than any cheated cards.
It was seconds before some embittered separatist cried out at the man, leveraging his gun and anger at the well to do red suit. At least the soldier had reflexes to match his senses and he sought cover as a hail tore the wood about him.
And it was all perfect for Schroeder. He made a dash for the life raft, tossing his hat in with a jangle for going to work at the pulleys to lower the craft. The rope was wound tighter than a lady’s bodice at spring fair. His gloves slipped against their damp cords.
A bullet sang past his head as he threw himself to the deck. A quick glance back confirmed pure pandemonium had taken over the preceding. Turning back to the reticent life raft, Schroeder rolled onto his back, kicking at the support keeping the boat anchored to the steamer’s side. Each pound of his foot caused the boat the slam loudly against the deck.
Eventually, the wood cracked beneath his insistence. He stood, testing the rope and finding it give beneath his fingers.
As he turned to the other side, he smiled as some pretty creature rushed to the rail. She wore a sleek dark black dress with great deep purple bustle that seemed to shimmer in the glow of the paper lamps. A frilled bonnet framed a rather beautiful, if exasperated, face. After pulling on the rope for a few moments, she turned to her matching satin handbag and produced an extraordinary long knife.
“May I?” Schroeder offered with a bow.
The woman turned, as if noticing the gentleman for the first time.
“You may, good sir.”
She placed the handle gently in his outstretched palm. Holding his left hand aloft, he assisted the lady onto the rail and into the raft.
“Take this end, I’ll loosen the other,” Schroeder smiled, unwrapping his cord from the fractured support. He moved to the second restraint, plying blade to reticent rope. The cords snapped beneath its sharp edge and he clutched it tightly as it began to fray.
“You are quite the gentleman,” the lady smiled, standing from the wooden bench as bullets flew by. She held out her hand and Schroeder returned the knife with a smile.
“Perhaps we shall meet again someday.”
“Why delay?” Schroeder smiled, stepping to the rail. She gave a brief smile as she placed her hand on his chest.
“’Tis only proper. I’m afraid I must bid you ado.”
She waved the knife at him, but only customarily as she took the rope from his hands.
“It has been most pleasurable, good sir.”
And with that, she let the ropes release, plunging the raft into the churning dark waters below. Schroeder pressed up against the rail as she fished out a paddle and pushed herself away from the steamer. He watched as she worked, the dress shifting like an intoxicating wine about her shoulders as she dumped his gains into her purse before holding the hat up in a farewell salute.
Schroeder afforded a brief moment to watch her go.
“My boy, you’ve got to stop falling for every pretty face with a delightful smile.”
But then she tossed his hat casually into the waters and whatever remorse he felt immediately evaporated.
“That was custom fitted!” he shouted.
A smash of metal into wood brought him back to reality. Schroeder glanced back at the mayhem overtaken the gambling ship and looked back at the dark waters churning beneath the grand wheels of the steamer. Without anything truly to lose now, he mounted the rail, took a deep breath and plunged into the waves.

Playing God: Fantasy World Creation and Race

Let me begin this short rant with a quick plug for my friend Derek’s posts on this website elsewhere.

He has a far more indepth and expert examination of fictitious worlds and creation than I could ever hope to achieve. Discussion about his own topics is what actually inspired me to scribble my own thoughts today. Specifically, I want to address world building in a general sense and possibly detail my own methods for creating fantastical worlds.

Fantasy fiction, I believe, poses one unique problem not truly present in any other genre of speculative fiction. To my knowledge, no other genre offers nearly as much possibility or limitless imagination primarily due to the audiences looser expectations towards the realities of the world. General fiction almost universally takes place on Earth with its implicit histories and social constructs. The most ‘world building’ an author is required for these stories is generating their main characters with believable histories and motivations.

One step further from general fiction is science fiction. But most Sci-fi is a speculative look at a future impacted by whatever technological advancement or theory spurred the idea for the author’s narrative. The world building is more substantive than just fabricating the main cast but requires the author to adapt and change her societies to this new dominant invention. However, once again, the general assumption is that advancement of life followed a remarkably similar thread to our own history.

Space operas and fantasy fiction, however, can take place on different planets or dimensions with truly unique and strange people or races. There is no assurance for the reader that the development of the society and structures to the point where the narrative occurs is anywhere close to something from our own lives. Star Wars, for example, has an entirely different history completely void of planet Earth and it could be reasonable to believe that the humans of that universe aren’t actually “humans” at all. Likewise, Middle Earth is truly a world far removed from our own with a past very different to anything we’ve ever experienced (even though Tolkien envisioned Middle Earth to be the lost mythological age of our own world).

This leaves a prominent issue for fantasy writers. How do you create a world that people can understand and relate to while still being believably fantastic? I mean, one of the huge draws for these worlds is that sense of wonder and exploration of visiting places far different from our own. We don’t want to recreate, verbatim, medieval Europe when we could just place our stories in medieval Europe. Tolkien is really the founding father of modern fantasy, so it’s no wonder that his approach is so widespread. Tolkien’s solution was to base the underpinnings of his world on real life mythology. Elves and dwarves were not raw creations of his imagination but legendary figures and beings from earlier cultures. By adopting these figures as real, he was able to shorthand a lot of his world’s creation by invoking those myths.

So successful was this method (coupled with his staggering detail in breathing life to his world) that most fantasy writers just shorthanded their own mythos from Tolkien himself. This perpetuating of the same ideals led to the common tropes of the genre: underground dwelling dwarves with big beards and bigger tempers, lofty elves of a dying or lost age removed from the petty squabbles of other nations and peoples, barbaric orcs obsessed with warfare and conquering and the rest of the lot. One could argue that Tolkien was too successful as fantasy stories became less and less about adopted medieval Europe and its superstitions and more about following the founding father’s exacting footsteps.

Which is a shame, since there are so many other nations, mythologies and legends that could be used as genesis instead. This leads me to my own D&D stories. They began as a simple thought experiment, “What would it be like if my friends and I were born in a universe like Dungeons and Dragons.” Course, obvious obstacles like copyright infringement and my own personal enjoyment for world building insured that this wouldn’t be indulgent fan fiction but a universe of my own. And as my collection of shorts grows and grows, I’m forced to consider the world they inhabit and the rules that govern them.

Some of these decisions were made early on. I knew I wanted to avoid the same old race wars common in generic fantasy. To address the over saturation of dwarves versus elves, I elected to remove race entirely. My envisioning of the race dynamic was to re-purpose the long beards and pointed ears that distinguished the fantasy peoples and instead dress the diverging elements more in cultural clothes and beliefs. Thus, my barbarian Orc is a large, dominating man that absolutely denies his ‘barbaric’ origins (Andre). Likewise, the peculiar half-elf Aliessa is rarely even mentioned as such for in my mind being called an elf is an insult and the powerful wizard commands far too much respect for such things.

But since race is more cultural than physical, it is really easy for the boundaries to be blurred or outright ignored. Most people seem to not care about where someone comes from and pointing out racial differences is really unnecessary unless it’s strictly for the plot. Which is nice that I don’t have to describe a new character as “the dwarf” with all its Tolkien trope baggage and instead I can focus on describing my characters as individuals first and foremost. But that element of race can always be brought up later if I decide it would make a compelling story. The mere presence of race, even if it isn’t a sticking point for most, lays the foundations for future conflicts if I so choose.

I have no idea where I was going with this so I’ll just wrap it up for now.