Tirost,

I must say, this letter was a bit of a surprise, though a welcome one. We’ve conversed in the past, and though we have different beliefs on a number of things, I see you as someone that can be reasoned with. Apologies for the time it’s taken me to respond.

I’ll be blunt – the question, as I see it is, “How much are you willing to push your luck when you’re dicing with the lives of everyone around you on the line?” The reason why I see even Low Sorcery as a problem requires stepping back a bit. So forgive me, please, for a long preamble.

The history of our guild is littered with disasters wrought of pride, ambition, and carelessness. Our oldest tales are those of the Blackfire Cabal and The Four who saw in that all-consuming flame a horror so profound that it could only be met with magic even more dreadful: the Voidspell. We know now that this is almost certainly the precipitating event to Maelshyve’s entry into our plane.

If we needed anything else to scare us away from High Sorcery it would be the fate of the S’Kra Wind Clan during the Elven-Human Wars and a magic so terrible that even the Heralds descended to warn the mages of the time of what they were doing. Similarly, in the visions of Moon Mages we have seen connections between the modern Hylomorphic Sorcery that is being talked about now in secret and the warnings of the Heralds. Please see the attached copy of the First Land Herald’s reporting on this one.

But beyond that, Magic itself can be tremendously dangerous. Paeldryth’s loss of control over his summoned elementals permanently changed weather patterns, something that could have easily ended life as we know it, had it altered things enough that our crops could not grow– if we don’t eat, we don’t live. The legacy of the Mage of Storms’ momentary lapse of concentration hangs over Shard to this day, its potential to destroy the city held at bay only by Guildmistress Melear. If she falters as well, it could wreck the city.

All of these examples have one thing in common – they were accidents perpetrated by skilled mages who thought they had everything under control. If there can be said to be one rule of magic it would be that every mage believes his works to be within his control, no matter the dangers. And the vast majority of the time, they are correct. The issue is when they are wrong the results can be disastrous – and we never know when it’s going to be us. History has shown that no mage can trust his abilities completely.

Magic is dangerous, and if you have even a shred of doubt about that, I’ll be glad to talk further on that point. But the fact remains that it’s also one of the few weapons we have against the forces arrayed against civilization. Go take a walk around the Crossing and look at all the buildings. Think about how many hours of labor it took to build everything you see there. Go really look at the farmlands that feed us all. If we falter in their defense, the results would be catastrophic, something people maybe never recover from. Every other concern we may have MUST be secondary to keeping the light of civilization on.

So, after all of that, why do I consider Low Sorcery and even Cross-Realm Casting, something many consider to be acceptable, a danger? Because it’s magic with the restraints off.

Sorcery is blind and reckless. When you handle mana that you aren’t attuned to, you do so blindly, without proper ability to see what’s happening. This creates greater risk of backlashes, of unintended consequences. Are the chances large that any individual failure will cause large problems? No. But it is reckless. Cross-Realm Casting is bad enough in this regard, but Low Sorcery, the combinations of two mana types to create a spell, is dangerous and destructive. It is focused on breaking things.

Sorcery is a temptation. Put simply, the skills you acquire even in the course of practicing Cross-Realm Casting are usable to enact Low or even High Sorcery. And that puts the whisper in your ear. And if you can learn anything from our past, it’s that people who feel cornered will use anything they can get their hands on to save themselves. If you knew how to use it and you came across a tome that taught you the secrets of Blackfire, how much more likely would having that ability make you to save that knowledge “just in case”?

Sorcery makes YOU a danger. Those dangers are bad enough, but the mindstate one must go into in order to even cast spells using another mana type is extremely disturbing. It is irrational and violent. Not only could placing yourself there, mentally, cause you to work in a more dangerous way, but long-term exposure could push you down a dangerous path as well. You start wearing those ruts in your mind, sooner or later it becomes difficult to travel any other paths.

Is mere Cross-Realm Casting the same as Necromancy or High Sorcery? No, I do not think so – there is a spectrum of danger. It is something that would lead me to try to talk a person down rather than fight them. But those who work it on a regular basis run a small risk risk becoming more dangerous, someone who is a risk to everyone around them. I would find it difficult to trust someone I knew to engage in any form of Sorcery.

I’m not content to watch the world burn without trying to do something about it. And I will do anything I can to avoid being part of the problem.

Saragos Daerthon

Dear Saragos,

Thank you for your reply. I will endeavor to include your well reasoned concerns in my study. Thank you also for enclosed article. I must, however reluctantly, allow honesty to stand before courtesy, and admit that, since our meeting, I can no longer read the Herald as an account of factual events, but I will seek out accounts of the visions you mentioned, and appreciate the suggestion to do so.

It is true that our opinions on this subject differ greatly, but allow me to say that I can understand your position and admire the discipline and conviction it takes to live in accord with your beliefs. If you are ever interested in discussing these topics further, through the exchange of letters, or perhaps over a pint of Kermoria's finest, I am at your service.

Sincerely,

Tirost Armagna

Dear Saragos,

I can see that you too are a man of honesty, and so I will not labor for eloquence, but scrape my quill across the paper to set my naked thoughts before you. It is true that there are some among the Philosophers whom I call friends – not friendly – but friends, for friendship to me is founded on mutual respect, not the servile adoption of another’s reasoning. I do not always agree with my friends, and there may come a time when, to live according to my ideals, I must face my friend in mortal combat, but, until that time, I will treat them with respect, work and reason with them, trust them, until they should prove themselves false.

I do not seek immortality on this plane, nor to master any of their arts. Instead, I seek allies in service to that which I love most. When you think of necromancers, perhaps you see someone selfish, naive and dangerous – someone who seeks to elevate herself at the expense of countless others, and there are Perverse necromancers, perhaps Philosophers too, who are little more than that; however, it is a grave mistake not to recognize the diversity of people who, for just reasons, have chosen to turn from the gods and dedicate themselves to rigorous study and the practice of a forbidden art.

It is easy, perhaps, to dismiss the sacrifices made in defying the Perverse by a Necrolord like Jhien, or a scholar like Yvela, as ultimately self-serving – and the same accusation could be made against any of us – but know that their risks were infinitely greater, and their efforts infinitely more vital to our success. Without their lore that produced those potent vials, Maelshyve would be manifest, and our people would be at war or enslaved, and if a Philosopher should fall before a demon or god in battle there is no salvation, as Vorclaf found from Meraud, nor Starry Road to walk: their fate is annihilation, either consumed by the Hunger, or dissolved in the Spiral. In spite of those risks, and others arising from turning one’s back on their fellow outcasts, they stood with unyielding resolve against the demon of Zaulfung and brought us victory.

You mentioned the great labors Navesi takes to write the Herald, and the criticism and lack of praise it often garners. How much greater must those feelings of resentment be for those Philosophers who strove tirelessly against our enemies, and who have been met with nothing but enmity and contempt? In truth, no one was more disappointed, more heartbroken than I was, that their struggles were not honored in the Herald. I am eager to know if you, Saragos, share her reasoning, for I dearly hope that there is a misunderstanding here, for so ardent a lover of Truth am I, in all its luster and complexity, that there is nothing I will not do in its service.

Let us meet at your convenience, either at the Pierless Inn at Riverhaven or at the Gilded Unicorn at Kaerna. The drinks in either establishment are far superior to those in the Crossing, and the chances of being interrupted less probable.

Respectfully yours,

Tirost Armagna