A History of Magic

The * Frilond * Campaign

A History of Magic

Magic Use before the Brynns

According to the Pentian Church, the dragons were the first race in the world: they slept in cold caverns, swam in still oceans, and flew in dark skies long before the creation of man. It is natural, therefore, to conclude that dragons were the first magic-users in Frilond; their considerable talent for magic is well known. The language of dragons is extremely close to the Elder Tongue; it is said that the dragons overheard the Five making the rest of living creation. This explains in part why dragons are so adept at magic use. The Elder Tongue binds all mortal creatures to speak true—except for dragons; they alone have the cunning to lie in the True Speech. Or so the scriptures say.

The Fair Folk (called the sidhe by the Brynns, and numenia by the Tynans) also have great aptitude for the Elder Tongue. They were probably the second magic-users in Frilond; only the dragons know what the land was like before the coming of the fair folk. A Fae presence predates any human entry into the region by several dozen millennia. It is said that in the ancient times, the fairies once lived openly, visible to all.

The Fae love magic and have an uncanny affinity for enchantments: they take great delight in unusual or elegantly-wrought spells and artifacts. The most powerful magical items now in Frilond were undoubtedly wrought by the Fae in ages past; their enchanted swords are still prized. It is said that the fabulous blade of King Tamurlaine, for instance, was made by ancient Fair Folk, and given to him by a faerie maid.

The Fae are also masters of illusion: faerie glamour, it is said, is almost impossible for mortals—even magicians—to recognize. There are countless tales of the Fae using their glamour to disguise themselves or trick hapless mortals.

Long ago, before the coming of the Brynns, it is said that the Lords of Faerie withdrew from Frilond and the visible world. Why they left and just where they went is unclear: there are many stories of the Fae sailing into the west, or withdrawing deep into the woods and far beneath the ancient hills. The realm of Faerie is now largely inaccessable to mortal men, and the Fae only rarely venture forth. Those mortals who have claimed to visted this place tell fantastic tales of a strange land where time has no meaning, a realm filled with unending wonders.

The Tynan governor Gadius once attempted to invade a Faerie wood; each time his troops entered the trees, they would march barely a bow-shot before finding themselves back where they started from. Few men since have repeated the governor's folly.

Of the Fae, only the lesser faeries have remained behind in the mortal world, and it is said that their time here is waning. The faeries here are both wilder are more neutral than their nobler cousins, are extremely reticent, and have rarely had direct contact with people; they used their magic to dazzle and frighten the Brynns. The great faery king Alpheos kept Tynar at bay for centuries, and was later feared by Kargish raiders.

It is not clear what humans had dwelt in Frilond before the Brynns, nor how long they had been there. Some evidence remains of a primitive pre-Brynnac society; a dark, furtive race built the prehistoric dolmens, cairns, barrows, and stones which still dot the landscape. Contrary to popular belief, the druids did not build these things—though they did venerate these places. It is not known what magics these pre-Brynnac races used, if any. Little is known of them; they seem to have been fairly primitive. Some have suggested a great human kingdom existed alongside the Fae, although there is little evidence to support this.

The Brynns

Traditionally, the Brynns had little experience with wizardly magic; they relied exclusively on their druids for all sorcery. The rare wizards that were encountered by Brynns were greatly feared and of considerable power. In general, though, wizard magic was the domain of non-humans, such as the dread hags which prowled the Ruckish Hills and the crags of northern Harplan. The enchantments of the sidhe were held in awe and often fear by the Brynns—although relations between the two peoples were not always hostile. Sometimes, a sidhe and a human would mate; those few Brynns born with a talent for magic use usually had some faerie blood in their veins.

The Brynns' ignorance of wizardry proved fatal with the encroachment of Tynar. The druids were unable to effectively respond to the alien sorceries of the Empire.

Early Magic Use in Tynar

The Eturians of antiquity were renown for their command of magics. Legend has it that an Eturian farmer was plowing his fields one day when a tall man miraculously arose out of the ground from one of the furrows. This man then proceeded to teach the farmer the very first wizard spells. The Eturian wizards assembled an early demonology, and were said to be able to call up spirits and bind them to service. Eturian wizards were famed for their use of familiars. Eturian wizards were also good at divination: they could foretell the future from examining animal entrails (haruspicy) or observing lightning strikes. In fact, divination in general was sometimes described as "the Eturian Art."

The early Tynans, in contrast, had little aptitude for and almost no tradition of wizardry—they distrusted and hated the art and all its practitioners. These people were extremely religious by nature, and like the Brynns, relied on their priests exclusively for any magic. Their antipathy toward magic is reflected in a Tynan term, veneficium, which had two meanings; first, use of the magical arts, especially sorcery employed to harmful ends; and second, the act of poisoning.

From the beginning of its history, Tynar was ruled by the distant Eturian kings. And while the Eturians were not particularly repressive, they naturally had very bad reputations because of their fondness for sorcery. When Tynar finally gained its independence, many of the Eturian magicians were killed or driven off.

After the founding of the Republic, Tynar underwent a dramatic period of political expansion within the ancient world. As Tynan power and imperialism grew, many foreign influences were brought into the region—including foreign sorcery. Most free wizards in the Republic maintained low profiles: magic was a punishable offense and still viewed unfavorably by more conservative citizens. Under the laws of the Republic, necromancy was occasionally practiced in secret, but it had no place in the religious life and was subject to severe legal penalties.

But many Tynan citizens slowly acquired a taste for sorcery, and would pay handsomely for new and exotic trinkets or exciting magic spectacles. It became rather fashionable among the aristocratic classes to have a Herachean slave who knew some amusing or helpful magic. During the Republic most wizards were foreign-born, and of low station. Few Tynan citizens actually perfumed magic themselves; free wizards were presumed to have had some foreign or Eturian blood in their veins. Women wizards were rare but especially hated; there were nonetheless some powerful witches in these days, perhaps most notably Canidia of Nure.

The Rise of the Imperial Adepts

After the Republic was abolished, the Tynar Empire increasingly tolerated wizardry. Despite the reservations of generals and the antipathy of common soldiers, mercenary sorcerers were frequently deployed on the frontiers, and proved invaluable in the Northern Frilondia campaigns. More and more, Tynar accepted and relied upon magic; this eventually allowed for the creation of a wizardly institution sanctioned by the state: the famed Imperial Adepts.

Much of the old Tynan distrust for magic resurfaced in the earliest years of the Empire. Emperor Coriolanus had something like 2,000 magical scrolls destroyed in just one year alone. Both the emperors and their armies feared the power of alien wizards—and not without reason. In the reactionary spirit of the early empire, all sorcerers were frequently driven from Tynar, accused of harming the state or emperor with their evil spells; the most famous example was probably the expulsion of Nestorides and all his apprentices by emperor Marius. Nocturnal ceremonies to invoke the infernal deities, the making of wax images and the tying of knots to cause pain, death, or sexual impotence, and of course the manufacture of poisons (employed to speed up the supernatural processes) were offenses punished by crucifixion or being thrown to wild beasts.

However, the emperors almost always reserved the right to exclude their own personal sorcerers from expulsion or persecution: even Coriolanus was known to consult astrologers. And as the Empire grew older and even more powerful, its influence extended across half the known world—which included the sorcery-steeped east. A series of inconclusive wars with Perthia had demonstrated the sorcerous power of the Magi. Herachean slaves had already brought a considerable body of magic learning into the Republic, but the annexation of several eastern kingdoms introduced into Tynar numerous mystery cults, the art of astrology, and new and exotic magical traditions.

It was the conquest of Aeptetus, however, which marked the single most significant shift in Tynan wizardry. Aeptetus the old, with its nighted pyramids and sphinxes, was an ancient land that boasted the earliest recorded use of magic by humans. Millennia before the rise of Tynar, the Aeptetean sorcerers were indisputably the most powerful wizards in the world. But by the time of the conquest, the pharaohs were all dead, and the glories of old Aeptetus had faded; it had not produced a truly great mage for centuries.

Nonetheless, Aeptetus proved a seemingly inexhaustible storehouse of magic; knowledge of sorcery and sorcerers themselves flooded the empire. The old and cosmopolitan city of Thelandria was a crossroads of eastern and western magic traditions, and was soon established as the center of sorcery in the Tynan world. Aeptetean books on magic (both genuine and fraudulent) were quickly translated and made readily available to eager Tynan readers. Magic soon became a fashionable, if nervy, pastime for many Tynan citizens.

At the height of its power the Tynar Empire enjoyed an unprecedented level of prosperity—which had its downside. Despite the incessant warnings from the priestly class, traditional Tynan values of duty and reverence lapsed in favor of new and exotic ways. And as the aristocratic families of Tynar decayed, the Imperial court became more and more decadent. The mad emperor Jurianus tolerated a wife who openly practiced sorcery (among other vices); this folly provoked his assassination.

Increasingly, the emperors dispatched mercenary sorcerers to the frontier. By the reign of Perius (over 200 years before the Martyrdom) sorcerers were freely welcomed into the emperor's own palace; from then on no wizard feared plying the trade within Tynar.

The assassination of Perius initiated a terrible century of turmoil within the Empire. At this time Tynar's borders were overextended, and for several decades the frontiers had slowly retreated before barbarian invaders. The economic strain of maintaining the sprawling Empire proved extremely burdensome; high taxes and a series of economic crises led to famines, labor strikes, and general internal unrest. A gnollish revolt broke out in the east which demanded sudden and massive redeployment of Imperial troops.

During this century the succession of emperors, never painless, became especially contentious; the emperor was more-or-less made by the military. The most powerful generals vied amongst themselves for their own chosen candidates; these internecine struggles occasionally approached civil war. At one time no less than five different emperors were declared.

It was out of this period of crisis that the Imperial Adepts were born. Less than two hundred years before the Martyrdom the emperor Lineaus, fearing for his life, appointed his personal wizard Octavian as the first Adept. Within a year twelve other wizards had been so named, and the next year, another dozen. The Adepts were charged with upholding the rule of the emperor; they swore solemn oaths of loyalty to him. They originally attended exclusively to the emperor; their spells were to shield him from harm or spies. The deranged emperor Corontitus insisted that no less than three dozen such protective spells were to be constantly in effect on his person; the Adepts wove spells day and night to fulfill this command. None of these spells seemed able to prevent his assassination; history records that Corontitus reigned for a scant eight months before being murdered.

Despite this inexplicable lapse, the Adepts soon came to serve not only the emperor and his family, but senators, generals, governors, and other important figures. Their ranks were swiftly expanded; each new emperor seemed eager to create positions for new Adepts. Harried Tynan generals soon considered the Adepts invaluable in their numerous wars. Although the common soldiers generally hated all sorcerers, they at least came to respect (and fear) the offensive capabilities of the Adepts.

When the period of turmoil was finally over, the Adepts were at the height of their influence—little more than eighty years after their inception, and a hundred years before the Martyrdom. The Adepts had played a decisive role in stabilizing the Empire, and shoring up its borders against encroaching barbarian and monster tribes. At their apogee the Adepts were formidable wizards, with considerable sorcerous power and learning at their disposal. It is sometimes said that the Adepts had knowledge of over a thousand different spells.

It was during this time that the Adepts unleashed their most famed achievement: the Nine Colossi of the Limites. These were nine 50-foot tall bronze statues, formed in the image of Marnes, Tynan protector and god of war. The Adepts were able to animate these monstrosities: it is said they bound a powerful spirit within each metal housing. These Colossi were placed at the limits of the empire, and were able to fight and defend their posts. In Frilond the wild Brynns and ruck-men were terrified of the Colossus that towered over Demerian's Wall.

The Adepts were originally accomplished Abjurers and Diviners; they used these magics to protect the emperor. Despite their triumph with the Colossi and lesser automata, the Adepts were not especially skilled enchanters. Such skill was never deemed really necessary; Tynar's numerous victories had brought a wealth of magic items into the Empire, as well as foreign wizards who could always be commanded to produce more such devices. Many Adepts were accomplished Transmuters: in late antiquity, a large and esoteric body of writings was exclusively devoted to alteration magic.

But the Adepts rapidly developed an abiding interest in the school of Conjuration/Summoning: many of these spells entered into Tynar by way of old Aeptetus. These spells came to dominate the Adepts' repertoire, while the other schools of magic fell into disuse. Conjuration spells appealed to a distinctly Tynan quality. The Adepts, like any Tynan citizen, were accustomed to having the entire world at their beck and call. Using magic to compel other beings to fight and toil for them seemed a natural and desirable development. The Adepts used their sorcerous might to impose their will on monsters, both terrestrial and extra-planar, and a tangled series of pacts and bindings were soon formed.

As the Empire neared its twilight, the Adepts became increasingly corrupted and ineffectual. Many neglected their oaths of loyalty to the state, and were more interested in promoting their own personal fortunes. And the Adepts' art, always derivative, suffered a steady decline; there were fewer and fewer magical innovations, and more dependence on the legacies of the past. Many Adepts devoted their limited abilities to composing pedantic commentaries and pursuing esoteric theories. As the Adept's personal abilities waned, they increasingly called on extra-planar powers to buttress their depleted magics. And increasingly, these powers originated from the lower planes.

Maecenas and the Fall of Tynan Frilond

Toward the end of the Northern Empire the weak Adepts relied markedly on diabolic aid. This process was greatly accelerated by the decline of the empire, as demonstrated by a new series of setbacks on the frontiers. Invasions from the Kargs, wild Brynns, and ruck-men were becoming more frequent and more debilitating. Rather than ceding the northern territories outright to these invaders, Tynar undertook a massive series of administrative reforms. Yet despite these efforts, the withdrawal of the Imperial armies spelt inexorable doom for Tynan Frilond.

In 140 the Empire was divided into two halves, Northern Tynar (containing much of what is now Frilond) and Old Tynar, each ruled by a co-emperor. This was a fairly desperate attempt to reorganize; it bought the Northern Empire at most an extra century or two of life. Of the two halves, Old Tynar was clearly the more powerful; troops were steadily removed from Northern Tynar to Old Tynar, where they were needed to quell internal dissension. Those mercenary troops that remained in Frilond were usually underfunded, ill-equipped, and badly trained. Thus the pressing demand for more and more powerful magics.

By this point the Adepts were almost totally dependent upon the power of extra-planar creatures, and were increasingly calling upon vile things for assistance. Fell and terrible fiends, eager to extend their influence on this plane, and always desirous of corrupting mortals, were only too glad to fight for Tynar. The dread baatezu in particular heeded the Adepts' summonings, and were infamous for their ability to twist the wording of pacts to their own infernal benefit.

It soon became unclear who was master of whom; many Adepts were destroyed by things which were ostensibly their servants. Some Adepts turned to fiend-worship, and became demonolaters in order to gain powerful magic; other Adepts bargained with their own souls in dark and unsavory rituals. In at least one instance, an Adept was forced to call up fiends to rectify a botched summoning. The Adept Androntitus of Larium raised a tanar'ri lord, but the darkling prince was able to burst his confinement and wreck havoc. Desperate, Androntitus conjured three powerful baatezu to combat the menace. Between these unholy forces, Larium was utterly leveled in one horrific night, and Androntitus dragged wailing down to the pits.

Despite such disasters, the use of diabolic aid was undeniably effective, and sustained Northern Tynar unnaturally for many years after the Empire by rights should have fallen. Foul and terrible fiends shattered ruck-man and Karg hosts alike, and struck horror into all who beheld them.

In Northern Tynar the large and growing Pentian community was, to say the least, outraged and repulsed by this turn of events. Worship of the Five, which never took root in Old Tynar, found fertile ground in the Northern Empire—despite the efforts of the state to eradicate what was considered a subversive movement. In fact, despite the persecutions, the Pentian religion flourished in Tynan Frilond. A century before the division of the Empire, Tynan Frilond had declared official toleration of worship of the Five. The Pentians, however, were not appeased: they viewed the continued summoning of fiends as but one more sign of the Empire's irredeemable condition.

In the year 150 the Adept Maecenas, seeing the writing on the wall, converted to worship of the Five. This event was a crucial turning point in the history of wizardry, for Maecenas was one of the last powerful Adepts, and his dramatic conversion occurred while he was at the height of his powers. Maecenas wielded the greatest of magics, and had developed several spells of his own—the most famed of which is probably Maecenas's faithful hound.

The conversion of Maecenas is generally seen as either a cynical (though shrewd) attempt to preserve political support for wizardry, or a sincere and dramatic personal revelation. In any case, after this moment, Maecenas zealously undertook his own private reformation. He began seeking out the most powerful Adepts in Northern Tynar, presenting them a simple choice: convert to the Five and rebuke all diabolic aid, or die. Several Adepts resisted, and were destroyed in turn. Maecenas was cunning and patient, and spent several long years trying to convert Adepts and drive fiends from this plane. Eventually he gathered a band of nine converted Adepts, who formed the group known as the Decad. The Decad continued Maecenas's work, and actively sought out other Adepts for destruction, claiming their apprentices as the Decad's own.

In 158 Horatius, the emperor of Northern Tynar, converted to the Five. He outlawed all pagan religions and disbanded the Adepts. Most of the unrepentant Adepts still living in Tynan Frilond returned to the south, to Old Tynar. Those few that remained did not stand long against the Decad.

Contrary to popular belief, Maecenas did not found the Royan Order. The Order appeared only long after his death, which happened in 161. Maecenas died battling the arch-fiend Zapranoth—who was subsequently driven from this plane and forbidden to return for a thousand years.

The last Adept in Northern Tynar died in 199. Following the example of Maecenas, no other member of the Decad took on new apprentices. And with the rise of the Church of the Five, fewer and fewer people became interested in wizardry. Those few Pentian wizards that did persist, however, were invaluable to later magicians, for they preserved much sorcerous learning from the late empire.

The Northern Empire fell symbolically in 217, when Karg invaders captured the holy city of Tierce—although by that time Northern Tynar existed only in name. The last great magician of Northern Tynar, Terentian, died in 240. Terentian honored the Five, and devised some spells of his own. He used his magics to defend the Church's lands and people from Kargs and orcs.

The Wizards of Karag

In marked contrast to the Tynan world, wizards in Karag had always been integral to their culture: the wizards were important mediators between the tribe and supernatural forces. Every Kargish chieftain had his own personal wizard, whose loyalty was absolute. These wizards served their chieftain in war and in peace, with potent magic and sage council.

Kargish wizards wielded spells that reflected the rural, warlike aspects of the culture. Kargish wizards were best casting the highly destructive magics from the school of Invocation/Evocation. Just as Karg warriors were renown for their ferocity in battle, Karg wizards were feared for their ability to dispatch lightning bolts, fireballs, earthquakes, and hailstorms. The Kargish wizards had no tradition of either illusions or necromantic practices, and were repulsed by the Tynan addiction to conjuration and summoning spells.

There is evidently a strong Fae influence on Kargish wizardry; many Karg spells have technical similarities to Fae versions, and Kargish wizards recorded their spells in a corrupted form of the faery script. The Kargs, also in the tradition of the Fair Folk, were quite fine enchanters, and able to fashion reasonably powerful magic weapons.

Kargish wizards were also good abjurers and diviners; these skills corresponded with their duty as protectors and seers for the tribe. Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Kargish wizardry was the heavy use of runic magic: much of this knowledge is now lost in Frilond, but in their day the Kargish wizards were cunning makers of potent magic runes.

How or when the Kargs learned magic from the elves is unknown; it is possible that the mysterious Grey Wizards were somehow involved in this process. The Grey Wizards were in Frilond before the arrival of Tynar, and roamed the lands of Karag from earliest time. They have always been aloof and independent forces, and apparently serve no chief or king. There are few confirmed records of the Grey Wizards, but the "mysterious wizard" which figures prominently in many a folktale often closely resembles a Grey Wizard.

Early Tynan sources report that Karg wizards wielded spears in battle. The Grey Wizards were famed for their ashwood staves, which the Karg wizards later came to adopt as their own distinctive mark.

During the dark ages, the Kargish wizards gradually disappeared from the landscape, displaced by the Five. A few Kargish wizards converted to the Pentian faith, and some of these converts renounced their art along with the Kargish gods. Other wizards seemed to have freely mingled Pentian and pagan beliefs into their magic. Some wizards refusing to submit to the Five returned to Karag, while others wandered into the uncharted north lands.

Pentian priests rapidly assumed the place once taken by wizards, as councilors to princes and kings. Much Kargish wizardry is now preserved only in isolated rural areas by hedge wizards.

The Founding of the Royan Order

Of the thousand spells supposedly known to the Adepts, most were lost or destroyed during the dark years. The Church was able to preserve some formulae, however: The monasteries acted as sanctuaries for a smattering of magical—and much nonmagical—knowledge. Within the monastery walls, holy brothers labored to revive and even advance the lost magics of the ancients.

The Royan order began as an offshoot of the Bergenian monastic order. Although the Royans are most famed for their magicians, these brothers only constitute a small minority of monks within the Order: most Royan monks have little to no knowledge of wizardry—and even less interest in the field.

The famed Royan monastery at Skye Isle was founded in 508. Shortly thereafter, some of the holy brothers there began experimenting with Tynan treatises on magic that they had found; the brothers slowly taught themselves the rudiments of wizardry. This continued for several years, until gradually some of the brothers became accomplished magicians. The research was initially carried on in secret, but the abbot of the Skye monastery soon learned of these activities. The abbot, however, was a liberal-minded man, and a classicist at heart: he immediately recognized the value of his monks' pursuit, and gave them his tacit approval. Eventually, the master of the entire Order was appraised of this situation, and in turn supported the decision of the Abbot.

When the other monastic orders received word of these doings, the reaction was explosive. The Royans were condemned as heretics and blasphemers undermining the authority of the Five. A few Royan monasteries were burned by order of fervent Bergenian monks. This conflict raged until the secular branch of the church intervened. In 548 the Pontiff, in an attempt to bring the Royans to heel, declared that the Order could not own land, and dissolved all their holdings. The Order refused to give in. The next Pontiff, Maximilian, did not reverse the ban against land-ownership, but did support the Order in some important areas. His Holiness declared in 563 that the Royan Order magicians alone have the privilege to practice magic, as the Five blessed them with such knowledge. But the Pontiff forbade any magician from willfully using wizardry to harm a good Pentian.

Despite the pontifical decree, the controversy surrounding Royan Order monks continued—albeit with less intensity. The Council of Ponnel was met in 698 to explore the theological issues raised by the Order's magicians. The Council, after long and contentious debate, declared that wizardry emanated from the Five, and as such could be used by a good Pentian. However, the Council recognized that magic could all-too-easily fall prey to unholy influences. The Council ultimately reaffirmed Maximillian's decision: Royans alone had the spiritual will, and the requisite guidance, to study wizardry. A register of spells considered to be expressly evil was produced; these forbidden spells were collectively labeled malefacti.

This arrangement as established by the Council has more or less stayed in place. The other monastic orders remain hostile to the Royans, but the secular Church depends heavily upon the strength of the Order. The Royan magicians which do not dwell in monasteries usually serve the secular nobility. This is how the Order supports itself, and is a principal reason why the secular branch indulges the magicians: the Royan Order is an excellent source of revenue. Despite the warnings of priests, nobles are often extremely eager to have a magician at their command, as did the Kargish chieftains of old. The nobility, in fact, has consistently favored the Royan Order over the other religious orders. After all, the nobles occasionally have to contend with the other orders over land and resources.

The Royan Order is a truly unique situation within the Church of the Five. All magicians are brothers of the Royan Order, but have a separate and rigid chain of command. The highest ranking magician, the Magician Prime, reports directly to the Master of the Order, who in turn answers only to the Pontiff.

Little in the way of wizardry has been achieved since the fall of Northern Tynar. The Royan Order has produced few magical innovations; in fact, the general pattern has been a slavish devotion to what remained in the Tynan tradition. But the last century has seen a dramatic change in Frilond's intellectual life, which in turn has begun to influence the Royan magicians. The rise of scholasticism in particular has deeply affected all of the monasteries.

Scholasticism is a philosophic movement based on inquiry and reason; it supposes that the order of the Five can be revealed not only through meditation, but through rigorous application of logic as well. The scholasticism movement has revived the largely stagnant intellectual life of Frilond, and has inspired much new activity. Scholasticism has even resulted in a new series of inquiries into the nature and practice of magic, which has culminated in the work of the Royan monk Aurus of Chamell, who died in 900. Aurus was renown as a maker of potions, and wrote several famed treatises outlining alchemical theory—a field that had been dead since late antiquity.

Wizardry, however, still has a long way to go. Today, something less than two hundred spells are entered in the rolls of the Royan Order. Only a handful of spells from the seventh rank are known, and no spell of the eighth or ninth rank is believed to have survived—and some scholars even suggest that they never actually existed. Much of the lost Tynan magic has yet to be reclaimed.

However, future innovations in wizardry may well come from outside of the Royan Order. The Church is greatly alarmed at the recent rise of unauthorized magicians practicing the art. Of late there have been several public episodes of witchcraft, which has led to renewed ecclesiastical investigations. The Church has always been aware of hedge-wizards, harmless peasant magicians with crude cantrips. But this new breed of rogue magician produces literate and much more accomplished wizards. They are all-too-often bored or ambitious noblemen with the temerity to defy the Church. And with these rogue wizards has come a plague of charlatans—men without even the modest skills of a hedge wizard—selling "charms" and "talismans" to the unsuspecting. These charlatans endanger not only their own souls by this deception, but the souls of those they draw in.

But at this point, the Royan Order monks are by far the most influential and numerous group of wizards in Frilond. By nature, the Royan magicians are good diviners and abjurers, as were the early Tynan Adepts. Thanks to Aurus, there is also a recent but abiding interest in the school of Alteration, and the esoteric field of Alchemy. Both conjuration magic and necromancy have been actively suppressed by the Church and are usually employed only by the wicked or fool-hearty. Illusions, uncommon in both Tynar and Karag, are not well known.