Dodger's Themes
Standing in the room of mirrors, Dodger saw everything. Placed precisely, these mirrors were conduits, powerfully enchanted artifacts that schanneled the magic of the room & revealed, amongst other things, the rulers of the world.
In this one, the King of Galdun frets over his sick wife. In that one, the Vesturian Emperor beat his concubine. In the next one, the Mighty Horng Toecutter has his afternoon feast. In yet another, the Tenzanese Emperor sleeps fitfully. In another, the gremkaul lords wake for the morning. In another the Kingdom of Dhun sits under a mass of thorns. In another, the Steward of Srisia plays chess with her assistant. In another, the Alpha Shemir shapes a snowman for some children.
In yet another, a boy & girl ride in the Deserts of the Wind.
Dodger frowned. He had watched the world for many years now. From his Tower in the wastes of 'Zue, he saw everything, but could do nothing. To interact would mean to forget... and remember.
As a student, Coriolanus was considered one of the best & brightest. While soul magic was not to be his, nor heart magic, & body magic was just barbaric, the various styles of mind magic came to him naturally. Nimble & small, spelldancing was no trouble for him, but he tended to avoided the exertion required. His piping childhood tenor was suited to spellsinging, but like most young boys, he found the effeminate trills embarrassing. The chanting was boring, and the rune-scribing was even more so. Sealcasting, now, that took skill. It was interesting, but compared to the rush of ceremonial magic, the intricate designs, the combination of substance & mana, the careful timing... Sealcasting would suffice for the immediate, but if a ceremony could be undertaken for the spell, Coriolanus would jump at it. Such power. Still, some ceremonies required more than one person, understanding of multiple languages, and hours of hard work. It wasn't all fun. And getting someone else to join in was probably the hardest part. That is, until Cory met Hosea Villanova. She was a spellsinger of exceptional skill, an adept at spelldancing, & a deft hand at sealcasting. She was his partner in various sealcasting classes, by virtue of their comparable skill levels, and soon, they were close friends. Hosea loved to help with the ceremonies, too. An expert on the proper timing & control, she complemented Cory's understanding of the symbols & languages well. All went well, until the two became more than friends. Cory, not being experienced in the world, fell for her hard. Her every whim was his command. Which is why he agreed to the Thirteen Point Ceremony. She wished for immortality, & he wished for her to be his forever. So they took the beating heart of a crow, the petals of a gray rose, the shroud of a king, the ashes of an ancestor, the tears of a loved one, the soul of a criminal, a vial of crushed wormbone, a golden coin, the hand of a thief, & the sweat of their own union. These, they combined with a blackoak table, a crucible of brimstone, & shadow candles. Speaking the words, in demonic, that described the rise of the Champion of Undeath, they sealed their fates, binding themselves to each other & to the powers of undeath. They linked their souls & bodies permanently...
Cory woke with his legs in pain. His eyesight was gone. His heartbeat so slowly he could count it by the hour. And his head hurt so bad he couldn't think. His skin was on fire. When he tried to stand, the pain sent him back into unconsciousness. Hours later, he awoke again. This time, one leg seemed better, and he could see... on a scale of life and death. Light and dark meant nothing to him, but the effects of the soul-binding had given him new vision. He hobbled to the nearest window. Outside, nothing was alive...
His mind ached. After one hundred years of wandering, Dodger had come to realize that half his mind was aware of everything. The other half was dead, empty, a husk, a shell. It destroyed what the other half processed. Without something to control these forces, he would forget everything & understand everything simultaneously. He began the ceremony. A moonstone. Some feldspar. A mirror. A small canoe. A quartz neclace. Water from the deepest part of the ocean. A mithril key... And a trip to the dead moon, 'Zue.
The Tower kept the forces in his brain under control. The mirrors allowed him to see what was there, not what was merely alive. His can helped him walk. His presence on the moon, where there was no air, kept the air from burning his skin. He'd have to go heavily clothed. He'd need to bring a mirror for seeing by. And he'd have to deal with the memories, and the lack thereof. Hosea was down there, too. He'd seen her once or twice, singing madly from mountain tops, raising armies of the dead, being driven back into the darkness... But the Emperor of the World was come. If there was ever a time to go back, it was now.
The rags he wrapped himself in kept the air off well enough. It was a little painful, but nothing he couldn't handle. The mirrored glasses were a good idea. The enchantments he devised allowed him to see only what the light showed him, not what died & lived. And the cane was sturdy. Now if he could just remember why he was here. Something to do with the sun?
"Hey, beggar! This ain't your territory!" The rough hands of the constable pulled Dodger up. "There's no Wind in the sky. A building of gold, a stair of silver. All things point to two. Two with the face of one, no no!" Dodger babbled. Trying to figure out how to speak and trying to know which phrases you were trying to say was hard. A thousand things ran through his mind, more than he could handle. He noticed that he was used to the pain now. He noticed how the constable assumed he was a beggar. He noticed the number of times the constable blinked. He noticed the loose threads in his jacket. He noticed how many times a second his heartbeat. He noticed everything. But he couldn't remember it for more than an instant, not without the memories blotting it all out. The thoughts of the Emperor of the World. The impending shift in the cosmology. The complete & utter balance being threatened. So what came out of his mouth was not what he thought, what he noticed, what he remembered. It was everything, all at once. He had no control of it. The only time his mouth obeyed him was when he began a ceremony...
Coriolanus "Dodger" Mythas Former Human Ceremonial Sorceror "A tick tock, no horns & a bullfrog." Prowess 8 Reaction 11 Athleticism 7 Strength 9 Awareness 25 Processing 7 Life-Death Vision 17 Willpower 19 Rogue 14 Gift Lore 18 Morag Lore 16 Echo Lore 15 Magic Lore 19 History 19 Literature 15 Magic (Mind/Sealcasting) Meta 13 Silence 12 Darkness 11 Moon 14 Cosmos 14 Fire 8 Light 9 Truth 4 Knowledge 5 Magic (Mind/Ceremonial) Meta 17 Darkness 15 Cosmos 15 Dream 13 Moon 17 Fire 11 Light 9 Pestilence 13 Destruction 13 Earth 14 Hatred 12 War 13 Knowledge 13 Water 13 Hope 13 Flora 14 Music 12 Order 14 Death 15 Despair 15 Life 16 Silence 13 Fauna 13 Truth 14 Weather 13 Air 13 Time 10 Fate 15 Undeath 17 Envy 13 Vision 16 Travel 13 Home 13 Change 13
As a student, Coriolanus was considered one of the best & brightest. While soul magic was not to be his, nor heart magic, & body magic was just barbaric, the various styles of mind magic came to him naturally. Nimble & small, spelldancing was no trouble for him, but he tended to avoided the exertion required. His piping childhood tenor was suited to spellsinging, but like most young boys, he found the effeminate trills embarrassing. The chanting was boring, and the rune-scribing was even more so. Sealcasting, now, that took skill. It was interesting, but compared to the rush of ceremonial magic, the intricate designs, the combination of substance & mana, the careful timing... Sealcasting would suffice for the immediate, but if a ceremony could be undertaken for the spell, Coriolanus would jump at it. Such power. Still, some ceremonies required more than one person, understanding of multiple languages, and hours of hard work. It wasn't all fun. And getting someone else to join in was probably the hardest part. That is, until Cory met Hosea Villanova. She was a spellsinger of exceptional skill, an adept at spelldancing, & a deft hand at sealcasting. She was his partner in various sealcasting classes, by virtue of their comparable skill levels, and soon, they were close friends. Hosea loved to help with the ceremonies, too. An expert on the proper timing & control, she complemented Cory's understanding of the symbols & languages well. All went well, until the two became more than friends. Cory, not being experienced in the world, fell for her hard. Her every whim was his command. Which is why he agreed to the Thirteen Point Ceremony. She wished for immortality, & he wished for her to be his forever. So they took the beating heart of a crow, the petals of a gray rose, the shroud of a king, the ashes of an ancestor, the tears of a loved one, the soul of a criminal, a vial of crushed wormbone, a golden coin, the hand of a thief, & the sweat of their own union. These, they combined with a blackoak table, a crucible of brimstone, & shadow candles. Speaking the words, in demonic, that described the rise of the Champion of Undeath, they sealed their fates, binding themselves to each other & to the powers of undeath. They linked their souls & bodies permanently...
Cory woke with his legs in pain. His eyesight was gone. His heartbeat so slowly he could count it by the hour. And his head hurt so bad he couldn't think. His skin was on fire. When he tried to stand, the pain sent him back into unconsciousness. Hours later, he awoke again. This time, one leg seemed better, and he could see... on a scale of life and death. Light and dark meant nothing to him, but the effects of the soul-binding had given him new vision. He hobbled to the nearest window. Outside, nothing was alive...
His mind ached. After one hundred years of wandering, Dodger had come to realize that half his mind was aware of everything. The other half was dead, empty, a husk, a shell. It destroyed what the other half processed. Without something to control these forces, he would forget everything & understand everything simultaneously. He began the ceremony. A moonstone. Some feldspar. A mirror. A small canoe. A quartz neclace. Water from the deepest part of the ocean. A mithril key... And a trip to the dead moon, 'Zue.
The Tower kept the forces in his brain under control. The mirrors allowed him to see what was there, not what was merely alive. His can helped him walk. His presence on the moon, where there was no air, kept the air from burning his skin. He'd have to go heavily clothed. He'd need to bring a mirror for seeing by. And he'd have to deal with the memories, and the lack thereof. Hosea was down there, too. He'd seen her once or twice, singing madly from mountain tops, raising armies of the dead, being driven back into the darkness... But the Emperor of the World was come. If there was ever a time to go back, it was now.
The rags he wrapped himself in kept the air off well enough. It was a little painful, but nothing he couldn't handle. The mirrored glasses were a good idea. The enchantments he devised allowed him to see only what the light showed him, not what died & lived. And the cane was sturdy. Now if he could just remember why he was here. Something to do with the sun?
"Hey, beggar! This ain't your territory!" The rough hands of the constable pulled Dodger up. "There's no Wind in the sky. A building of gold, a stair of silver. All things point to two. Two with the face of one, no no!" Dodger babbled. Trying to figure out how to speak and trying to know which phrases you were trying to say was hard. A thousand things ran through his mind, more than he could handle. He noticed that he was used to the pain now. He noticed how the constable assumed he was a beggar. He noticed the number of times the constable blinked. He noticed the loose threads in his jacket. He noticed how many times a second his heartbeat. He noticed everything. But he couldn't remember it for more than an instant, not without the memories blotting it all out. The thoughts of the Emperor of the World. The impending shift in the cosmology. The complete & utter balance being threatened. So what came out of his mouth was not what he thought, what he noticed, what he remembered. It was everything, all at once. He had no control of it. The only time his mouth obeyed him was when he began a ceremony...
Coriolanus "Dodger" Mythas Former Human Ceremonial Sorceror "A tick tock, no horns & a bullfrog." Prowess 8 Reaction 11 Athleticism 7 Strength 9 Awareness 25 Processing 7 Life-Death Vision 17 Willpower 19 Rogue 14 Gift Lore 18 Morag Lore 16 Echo Lore 15 Magic Lore 19 History 19 Literature 15 Magic (Mind/Sealcasting) Meta 13 Silence 12 Darkness 11 Moon 14 Cosmos 14 Fire 8 Light 9 Truth 4 Knowledge 5 Magic (Mind/Ceremonial) Meta 17 Darkness 15 Cosmos 15 Dream 13 Moon 17 Fire 11 Light 9 Pestilence 13 Destruction 13 Earth 14 Hatred 12 War 13 Knowledge 13 Water 13 Hope 13 Flora 14 Music 12 Order 14 Death 15 Despair 15 Life 16 Silence 13 Fauna 13 Truth 14 Weather 13 Air 13 Time 10 Fate 15 Undeath 17 Envy 13 Vision 16 Travel 13 Home 13 Change 13
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