Acts/ Dictates/ Mandates/ Mantle - Amy's Thread (Page 28 of 77)

$450 is reasonable. Try $400 for two years although it should really be $400 for THREE years, but when you send through the forms, it takes them 5 months to send you the card and then they have also shaved 6 months off the 3 years in addition ... And if we decide to stay another two years and renew my visa, hubby will probably have to send them another $400 .... It may just be cheaper to move to Canada, so I hope K has more spare rooms to spare for a few more curses in about 2.5 years time!

Depends on how you define 'better' and 'worse', and how you rate the PhD.

The author of Dilbert wrote that he had so many real cases sent in by readers that he had more than a lifetime of material.  He also appeared on Babylon Five as a fellow consulting a private detective, worried that his cat and dog were out to get him.

Amy, up until  now we've had nothing about counting spells, or reducing questions of their strength to simply minor and major.  This is a change, a kind of rigidity that hasn't appeared until now, in Dictates.  Dictates is well away from the school, and thus seems a poor place to change the mage-rules.

Ok, my turn to ask for help. I need to thing of a better name for the bad guys other than necromancers. Too narrow of a box and limits the expectation of what kind of spells they cast. The best I can come up with is blood mages. (That is all that my sleep fogged brain will let me think up right now. Any ideas? Clearly, Death Eaters is already taken.

In a group casting, they can make a swathe of creepers. Alone, they can kill and animate a small town(like Blossom) if they sacrifice themselves to the casting. The spell is blood magic and once the caster bleeds out, the spell ends.

Second Skin: skin is filleted and worn by murderer to impersonate the victim.

Fuley's Taint: blood of willing volunteer is replaced with acid or poison to assassinate their target

Heart's desire: blood of victim is used to scry their heart's desire. This is then granted to recruit new members.

Winsel's Loathing: eyes or ears of unwilling victim are harvested and implanted on spell caster and second victim. Caster can see or hear what the victim does.

The Reaping: higher level casters can stay young by taking years from victims

Scent of Fodder: life essence can be sensed in a nearby area.

Is this enough? (I have to write out one of Kha's revelations when he is told of some of these spells. Will publish with a spoiler alert)

Skin lords sounds nasty, but probably need a different name. I like NJC's idea to break down what they call themselves and what they are called by others.

OK, spoiler alert. Here is a blurb I put down on paper because it was replaying in my mind. You said you were detoxing, NJC. I meant to finish something earlier but never had the time :-)

Kha sat back, leaning into the hard wooden bench. Airen poured a mug of mead from a pitcher, the head frothy and inviting. Tazar sat in the corner, inscrutable as ever. Melody took a break from playing her harp, walking toward them and stopping every few steps to speak with someone. Jaylene sat next to him, her Lance clipped to the chair and protected from an accidental touch. His fake staff was clipped behind him, pretending to be impressive instead of revealing itself as a sham.

The only one who wasn’t here was Conleth, but Kha had placed a drink at his empty seat, as if the lost friend was about to arrive and join their celebration.

He relaxed and leaned his chair back, resting his feet on the brass ring around the table’s central support. They were at Fadie’s place, sitting at their usual table, each in their assigned seat. Everyone was a little older, but Kha didn’t let the details bother him.

He was home. He was with the closest thing he would ever have to family.

All was right with the world.

(time passes. Blah, blah, blah.)

Jaylene sighed, taking a sip of her beer. “Not really. The first day I came back, someone tried to kill me. We never learned who ordered the attack. It involved weird magic. Who has acid for blood?”

All Kha’s goodwill fled out of the building. Did I hear her right? He followed a memory backwards, closing his eyes rather than allowing the raucous patrons to interfere with his thoughts. I’ve heard of this spell. I was sitting at the school, eating dinner. Anver told me. He’d read it in a book found...in Faulter’s workroom.

The rich food suddenly didn’t sit so well.

Tazar leaned forward, a cold glass of water in his hand. “Forgot the meat puppet, Jaybird” he reminded her.

Melody wrinkled her nose. “Do I really want to know?”

Jaylene pinched her forehead, looking tired. “We went below,” she said and pointed to the floor.

Kha mouthed the word, ‘catacombs’ with a question in his eyes.

Jaylene nodded. “As we stocked for the trip, someone used...magic against us and put everyone but Tazar to sleep. If he hadn’t been there, I’m afraid to guess what would have happened. The person who cast the spell wore the shopkeeper’s filleted skin as a disguise. I never caught her.

The back of Kha’s scalp itched and chills ran down his spine. Anver never mentioned that spell, but it has the same nasty signature. His own rule rose up to the front of his thoughts, a dusty memory of days when puzzles like this were fun instead of life-and-death.

To know your enemy, just follow the magic.

Kha tensed, trying to keep his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “What other spells has the enemy used?”

Jaylene shook her head. “I shouldn’t talk about those. They involve secrets that aren’t mine to share.”

I hate it when my truisms are used against me. Kha fought back a surge of irritation. A thought hovered behind his head, fluttering out of sight whenever he tried to look in that direction. Whatever truth it carried, it was important.

Kha held up a finger and Jaylene silenced. She narrowed her eyes and glared as only she could do. “You of all people should know...”

He slashed at the air, closing his eyes.  The necromancer in Blossom killed the hamlet and gave life back to everything dead within a half-days walk. The crazy bastard in Waters hunted Sil, trying to harvest her energy as she lay dying. Anver told me of skeletons in the containment jar. Lucas was a puppet of Maalok. I thought the followers in the crypt were their students. There couldn’t be any other reason that so many mages would work together.

Kha pulled his memories back to what started everything. He mentally replayed the shadowbook’s story of the murder of Binen by a hoard of skeletons, creepers, and Maalok.

I assumed he cast the spell that killed the city, but were there others?

Therein lay the problem with everything he’d assumed. Mages didn’t work well together. Each was a godling of sorts, ruled by his or her needs.

For proof, you only had to look at the damned Guild. Nobody ever got along. Not even him and Anver. Apprentices only followed their Master until they got the belt and then they scattered to the wind.

Mages made lousy henchmen.

Someone else was talking and Kha pounded the table for silence, keeping his hand up and closing his eyes again.

He started to speak, his voice hoarse. “What do you call mages who work together?”

There was a relieved chuckle from everyone around the table.

Airen asked, “Is this a joke? I don’t know this one.”

Kha continued, ignoring her. “There were a total of eight necromancers in our Guild. There was one in Blossom when the hamlet died. Another waited in Waters, intercepting me before I could get back to the city. Jaylene encountered two. We saw one leading the hoard at Faulter’s Pass.”
Melody piped in. “I ran into three on my way back to the city.”

Kha opened his eyes but his hand remained still, hovering above the table. “Airen?” he asked.

She shrugged. “No one goes to Aerie. Not even wastrels. You were the only one stupid enough to visit.”

Kha counted. “That makes sixteen, plus the ones we killed at the Games. I ask again, what do you call mages who work together?”
A pregnant silence fell over the table.

Kha’s mouth was so dry, it could have been a desert. “Priests. You call them priests. Jaylene, what religion would decimate itself to kill this city, destroy Behira’s power base, and murder you?”

Everyone turned to Jaylene as her eyes widened...

So ... they are tied up with The Defiler.  What do they call The Defiler?  Do they worship it/s/he?  Given the power The Defiler uses over others, what do they gain by trafficing with and giving themselves over to this soul-consumer?  Are they dupes?

If you've not read The Screwtape Letters you might want to read the author's intro.  "no use for such turnip ghosts" is, as I recall it, the key phrase.  If you've read  That Hideous Strength, think of Frost and Wither and their obsession.  (Don't go out of your way now to read it.)

Consider the thoughts of the anagrammatic sutler.

Alternative, maybe better, version.

That name could come from history (their creator, the place of their creation, etc.), or their goals, or how they see themselves (masters of life and death), among other things.  To the extent that it tells us about goals or creation, or about means, the reveal of the name can reveal key information.

Oh, if anyone wants to see what Airen does with her horses, google 'trust technique animal rescue, i have a dream."

For 'chosen': elect, select

For 'reaper' you might consider 'soldier'.  It focusses on position and organization function rather than mission function.

For the bottom level: brutes, swine, appetites, insatiates, ... I'm not really satisfied by any of these.