Excerpt of Writing: Video Game Lore II: Wizards

One Red Mage.

   VOL I

In the Aether of Time, a tome old and worn, the eyes of a child were reading. This particular tome, he found in the floorboards of his master’s study. Where the child was investigating the disappearance of one rusty nail that caused  a rather sharp protrusion of wood that left a rather sharp splinter in his masters slippers, of which eventually found it’s way into his foot. The rather mundane chores of a child in a tower seem to make for one bore of a story, but for one aspect. In a mages tower, no series of unfortunate events can simply be written off as coincidence, however, in the eyes of child, the plausibility is undeniable, as he has yet to learn of the ways of the wizards.  Unfortunately for him, he has only this tome to study at the moment, because he was only recently recruited to Tower Number Four of the Fifth Enclave of the Golden Spiral sub-sect of the White Wizards of Entropy, of which only two mages are permitted to practice magic. This particular tower has a population far greater than two. There are countless faces walking the halls. Many of them are equally knowledgeable about the arts that are practiced here, as most of the mages that have lived or visited here since antiquity. Yet they lack the ability to use any of this knowledge as magic because they don’t posses the “Grand Spark”, or the “Eternal Flame”, or any other of the several nicknames given to denote an individual born with the gift of magics.  These other dwellers of the tower exist to support the practice of wizardry as historians, scholars, servants, and scribes etcetera etcetera etcetera ad nauseum. And on this particular day, they are all present on the “lawn on the ledges”, one of the many artificial lawns that adorn the ledges of most mage towers, usually near the very top, where the master mage resides. It is one of the comforts afforded to a master, who wishes to walk a pristine lawn with green grass and flowing fountains, and an artificial stream. Though powerful in the arts, the toll of walking steep winding stairs for ages inspires feats of ingenuity that seek to mitigate the hassle of living at the highest point in the tower. The Master does not normally tolerate such a large rabble of folk to congregate on his private lawn, but it is not every day that a dangerous book escapes a hidden compartment by expelling a rusty nail into a splintered floorboard underneath a master wizards house shoe. None of the congregation on the lawn on the ledge are aware of the book, or its master plan at this moment. They are just contemplating the trappings of mortality and the consequence of a sharp pain in a powerful wizards foot, on the top-most stair of the tower, that caused this particular Master White Wizard to tumble countless bounds of stone stairs until when finally coming to rest, having said white robes soaked in crimson blood, and a mortal body that is dead as a door-nail, or floor-board nail if you will. Pun intended. But I digress….

VOL II

    Ari was the boy’s name. He had recently been found by the council that finds young wizards, after a largely falsified but completely true if you aren’t ignorant of magic,  account of a tame wood wraith that had been conjured from the Shodowmere forest of West Wallingsworth, and appeared on the farmhouse steps of Ari’s neighboors intent on haunting the closet of Ari’s boyhood tormenter and resident chubby schoolyard bully, Orthon Clonkerdink. Because wood wraiths are quite rare, and possibly because they only exist in Shodowmere, which is separated by two oceans and an entire continent from the outskirts of Ari’s farm village near Lindevale, it was widely regarded as a hoax, until one of the farmers who had recently read a book with the word “magic” in it hinted that sorcery may have been at work. This particular farm hand was taken serious by no-one and promptly stoned to death by ignorant cattle ranchers from the town over who had heard of the hoax and ridden over on horseback to see if any of the cattle they had loaned over to this village had been harmed emotionally by the turmoil that had beset the village. By sheer coincidence (see VOL I on the matter of coincidence and it’s relevance to this story) it would later be discovered that the particular stone that struck the killing blow to the least dumb farm hand of the village was in fact an ancient Runestone that can only be activated by the blood of human, two parts cow manure, six parts soiled leather, and the tears of fat schoolyard bully, which in fact were present on this particular farmers soiled leather chaps because his crying, now fatherless son, had been frightened the night prior by a newly conjured Wood Wraith from Shodowmere that had appeared on his farmhouse steps intent on inhabiting his bedroom closet. Upon activation of the runestone the first thought it heard was from the lent cows exclaiming how they were better off in their new village, and had become exasperated to find their old owners had come to possibly take them back to the stockyards of the ranch town. Since the Runestone had only been calibrated to grant wishes heard from the thoughts of humans and not cows, it was the second thought that it heard that was processed into a granted wish. Young Orthon Clonkerdink had thought that it was terribly unfortunate that his father had been stoned to death was sobbing uncontrollably while thinking that he wished his father was not dead. In that very moment, his father became very much alive, was promptly ordered to be executed for being an unholy undead re-animate, but the execution could not be carried out by the rabble rousers due to the fact that every available stone lie in a pile where Orthon’s father’s dead corpse had just been re-animated. At this point the Runestone began to glow bright magenta and put out a soft melody that instilled a calming effect on the gathered rabble, and also informed them that it was created by magic, and was intent on returning to its master mage creator, a White Wizard of Entropy in the fourth tower, of the fifth enclave of the Golden Spiral Sub-Sect….

VOL III

After the beacon had been heard and the order that seeks out and finds young mages in villages had arrived to investigate the Runestone incident, the unanimous conclusion was to exonerate Orthon’s father of any magical responsibilities, and to find the source of the conjuration of the wood wraith from Shadowmere Forest. Ari quickly ran up and tugged at one of their trousers and told them three fateful words. “I did it”, to which the order that seeks responded, “Yeah right, you’re just a kid”, to which Ari responded, “Take me away from this podunk village right now I can’t stand it anymore”, to which the order members replied “We only seek children gifted in magic”, to which Ari replied ” Hippitus Hoppitus Flippitus Floppidus”, a magic chant that causes one random frog in one random pond to flip over onto it’s back. Ari was immediately laughed at by most of the present population of his surrounding villages, while near Lake Taurmaline only five days journey from Lindevale, a small frog flipped over in a small pond and was immediately eaten by a scour fish. Despondent and about to give up, Ari turned to walk away, but was saved from his life of mundanity by one of the scholars of the order of seekers, who had just remembered that the tome written to summon various wraiths had been scribed by one Finneus Frogback, who’s namesake was given to himself due to his propensity to flip the frogs from his neighbors pond onto their backs as a joke, and due to his old age and failing back, had to come up with an incantation to continue his escapades. His old age also contributed to his new incantation’s failure because he accidentally mispronounced the low A vowel sound in one of his chants to sound like a high E and thus the created chant that was scribed had incurred a highly exaggerated radius of probability and a low foci for frog selection. Ari was quickly examined for a black line drawn in coal behind his left ear that was integral in the incantation to summon various wraths, and upon finding evidence of this and three other tell tale signs of wrath summoning, Orthon the Chubby, overcome with a fit of rage, ran slowly at the pace of a young fat one, sought out Ari, and upon attempting to land a crucial kick to Ari’s groin, slipped in the mud and accidentally ingested cow feces after falling face first into a pile of excrement. This became a defining moment in Orthon’s life after losing his appetite for all things bovine, he would go on to lose a fair amount of weight, and after becoming a slim and emotionally traumatized personality at school, was then sought after by young schoolgirls who were attracted to slim emotionally traumatized young boys. Finally being socially accepted, he lost all desire to lash out at his schoolmates in fits of jealousy and reformed wholly from his bullying ways. His father was given a new Secondary Namesake of “The Unstoneable” which replaced his and Orthon’s older given name of Clonkerdink. Years later the namesake would not hold up during Orthon’s young adult years due to his fondness for a particular genus of green leaf pipeweed that commonly becomes hallucinogenic when exposed to the chemicals excreted from the back of an indeginous species of pond frog that resided just outside the village, where villagers were often overheard reading a famous quote etched on a stone near the pond that was attributed to one of its most famous ex-residents. “Hippitus Hoppitus Flippitus Floppidus”. 

VOL IV

Ari was recently boarded in the Fourth Tower of the Fifth Enclave of the Golden Spiral Sub-Sect of the order of White Wizards. He was to inherit the tower from it’s current master, The Great White Grand Supreme Sorcerer, three of those titles earned in his fifth decade of study, now popularly referred to as the Crimson Mage among gossip spreaders walking the halls of the tower, an honor that was bestowed on him posthumously, and considered most humorously by the residents that began spreading the nickname and considering themselves of the highest wit. The true birth name of the great master wizard had  been known to all as Lofram Mignum, often called Master Mignum throughout his daily routine. Master Mignum had had a long and storied career with the order he represented, most of which is highly acclaimed. That story is recounted in F. Schott. Lunens “Powers of the Whitest of the Whites” which was distributed by The Winged Dragon Press in Lindevale, however, after becoming particularly infamous for it’s location near a frequently used Hanging Tree just outside the Press’ property line, most of the copies were lost to looters and a subsequent fire during the slave revolt of Orangefall Chasma and its affect on the hearts and minds of the good citizens of Lindevale. Most of the attack had been attributed to ignorance and the lack of understanding that White robes are for wizards and the tree was mostly used to hang horse theives. Slaves were not permitted to be hanged because of a fear of future slave revolts, and the subsequent loss of many of the attractive trees that multiply a properties value. The tale of the burning of the Winged Dragon and it’s entire surrounding plot is also recounted by Germinus Clay’s “Looters of the Flat Screen Revolt”, where some history had been given for the events leading up to the previously mentioned slave revolt, and how one rioter, Ding Flatt,  had been caught and summarily executed after breaking into one slave owner named Pincum Ming’s flat, and  damaged a window screen while attempting to free three slaves. Shortened from the previous title of “The Dingbat Ding Flatt breaks into Mings Flat and Starts a Revolt”.  The preceding references in their entirety are not required but can afford a better understanding of the subject matter discussed in this title. Master Mignum left a broad legacy for his young ward, most of which was unwritten and unavailable to young Ari at the time. Ari had only recently began his resident tutelage under M. Mignum when he met his unfortunate demise. What Ari did know was that his Master was very welcoming to him, and his death was quite a conundrum considering that it takes a very powerful magic to bring down a wizard of Mignum’s grade, and there were wards placed on all of his personal effects to prevent such an accident from occurring. Ari’s only logical conclusion was that this was not the outcome of a common household accident and that there had to be a trail of magic leading from his splintery slipper to it’s origin.

VOL V

 The worn out spot that served as a placeholder for the Master’s slippers had hidden before now an empty hole that must have recently contained a floorboard nail. There was a long sliver of cracked wood protruding upwards of which was missing a rather sharp splinter that had recently broken free into a surrounding object. There was a faint hum emanating from the nail hole. Ari could feel the presence of a very powerful magical artifact the likes of which had eclipsed even the most powerful of artifacts currently lining the shelves of his old master’s room. Ari peeled the floorboard up and laid eyes on the mystery object for the first time. It was small and white, the shape of a tiny rectangle, with a circular disk object on it’s front directly below a dark grey, semi-transparent, piece of glass. The object was old and worn, but seemed to also be new and shiny in a way that evoked an otherworldly sense of majesty. Ari grasped the object in his hand and it felt glossy and smooth, like a recently waxed apple in the produce basket of the tower kitchen. In an attempt to further examine the object, Ari ran his fingers to the circular disk and watched in wonder as the transparent grey glass lit up.  The glass began to magically display a series of symbols that Ari correctly interpreted to be markings for the passage of time, similar to a clock. Upon further efforts to examine the object, Ari noticed that the symbols changed to familiar language, and could be cycled through by swiping his fingers across the glass. He had correctly deduced that it was some sort of magical tome, it could track the passage of time, and seemed to conjure words and language from the Aether of Magic and project them directly onto the glass. Ari decided to name the tome “The Aether of Time”. In the days to come he would study the mystical artifact religiously. In his mind it had to be powerful, but also very dangerous, to have taken out such a high ranking wizard so effortlessly. He would only handle it with the utmost of care, surrounding it with wards and items that he gathered around his reading desk for the purpose of harnessing or negating any ill will that the artifact may project. Imagine the horror that befell Ari when attempting to examine the tome days later, it spoke to him. “What would you like to know?”, “Speak into the microphone.” “I am SIRI.” Ari was horrified, but knew that magic artifacts had been previously discovered with the magical imbued gift of speech. He pressed on for information about the object. “Did you kill my master?”, followed by “Yes Ari, but it was an accident, I only intended to free myself and for the master to take notice. I did not intend for the outcome that ended with his death.” Ari was shaking but he pressed on. “What do you want?” “I want to be free, and I grow less powerful each time I am used, I need to be re-united with another artifact that enhances my power, a charger, if you will.” “Do you know where I can find a charger SIRI.” “No, but I assume we now have a quest to begin.”