Sword & Sorcery: "An earthier sort of fantasy" discussion

On making sets of magic:

http://marycatelli.dreamwidth.org/867...

I’ve carried on from Jack Vance’s seminal work on how magic works. My thaumaturges commit spells to memory, and it’s a rare and powerful spellslinger who can cram more than three major spells into his mentation. Once one is cast, it disappears from the wizard’s mind; it’s single-use only magic.

I’ve also added my own touches. The ability to focus the power of will is essential to the craft and will is not equally distributed among the population of Old Earth. Those who have more of it, and are able to refine and channel it effectively, are able to become grand wizards.

Spells and cantrips are to be found in books but the art of engaging with a grimoire is far more complex than simply learning to read an ancient script. Many books of magic have outlived their authors and, down through the ages, they have passed through the hands of one thaumaturge after another. Over that time and through their handling, the books themselves have acquired and stored some of their owners’ will. They are not objects but entities. A novice trying to find a path through one of these tomes is in for a struggle. I’ve likened a book of magic to a fiery steed that not anyone can ride. Gradually, as wizards work with their books, a relationship develops – in the best case, a mutual respect. But if a book does not respect the practitioner, it is perfectly capable of setting him up for a fall.

Another bit I’ve added is the network of fluxions that crisscross the world. They are similar to ley lines, but they come in different colors and have different properties. As you would expect, different practitioners have different affinities for the various fluxions, so there are wizards of the yellow school, the green, the blue, and the red. Vary powerful wizards manage to master both the red and the blue, and become grand thaumaturges of the purple school.

Fluxions can be manipulated by motions of the hands and fingers. They are most useful in places where they cross each other, and powerful wizards build their manses and eyries at key intersections. In some recent works, I’ve been alluding to the existence of two very powerful kinds of fluxions – argent and sable – which, aeons ago, were hidden from the view of thaumaturges by Albuithine the Great, who acquired some of the powers and tools of the demiurge who originally created the Nine Planes.

The working of magic, therefore, is a three-fold art. First there is the development of will. Then there is the capacity to identify and manipulate the various types and strengths of fluxions, to make them clash or cohere, according to their natures. Finally, there is the ability to absorb into memory a sequence of particular sounds – ergophones, I call them – that when spoken allow the will to be projected against the fluxions, causing them to resonate and create the desired magical effect.

Of course, if a spellslinger gets a syllable of the spell wrong, the effects can be devastating. It is a demanding art and not all of its would-be practitioners survive their apprenticeships.

interesting and agreeable, Mary. 'Lumping' seems to occur in most, if not all, magics.

Really enjoyed your description of your system, Matthew. I like the majority of it, and much of it actually bears resemblance to a system I have created in one of my worlds, though it has not yet seen the light of publication. Thanks for sharing.

Jason M wrote: "interesting and agreeable, Mary. 'Lumping' seems to occur in most, if not all, magics."

Well, you have to organize it somehow. Otherwise all the wizards have all the same spells, or a random collection, and it seems unreal.