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Nov. 2nd, 2013 09:40 amMoney was always a problem for some people. Either they couldn't get enough of it or they didn't know what to do with it when they had it. Zeke didn't have much trouble with money because he didn't have much to begin with and what he had was used sparingly. His trouble was more along the lines of work, for that he had far too much of and never enough time to get it all done.
A typical day for most Wizards went something like this in people's minds: wake up in a large bed in a warm room in a tall tower. Eat a plentiful warm breakfast brought in by kindly servants. Dress and attend to mystical matters of state with other Wizards. Lunch with someone important. Magic and demons summoning perhaps in the afternoon, with a light dinner before the ritualized dark prayers and mysterious happenings that only occurred under the fall of night.
A day for Zeke went more along the lines of waking up far too damned early, outside on the road or in a barn. Eating what could be found for breakfast. Walking. Eating while walking, picking berries and edible vegetation from the roadside, muttering and talking largely to himself. If lucky, reach where ever he was traveling to, to find the people mostly alive, and proceed to his magic and very non-flashy mystic operations. If very lucky be fed something for dinner and given a barn to sleep in.
Zeke knew exactly why so many had glorious and absurd notions of Wizards, he just didn't know how to go about disillusioning them of the truth that only the very very highest ranking managed to make enough coin to stay locked in their towers. Zeke had a tower himself, as most every Wizard worth his Colors ought to, but 'tower' was a relative term. In most cases a Wizard's tower referred honorably to their home residence which could just as easily be a tenement in the city market district. Or a farm house. There was a full Colored Wizard from Zeke's graduating class that lived, if he remembered correctly, in a small magic dome under his local Lord of the Land's castle moat.
Zeke's tower was at the very edge of his parents vast landship, bequeathed to him with the silent rebuke that he was not to actually attempt visiting the main house. He was their son; the disappointing one.
The structure itself was tower like only in that it was tall, and architecturally rather stupid. It had started out as a hill, then an enterprising someone built a small watch tower upon it to see farther out. Rather than expand on this concept to make a fortification or larger, guarded watch tower, the next person to build on the site razed the structure, dug a deep pit in the center of the hill, and put a wall around it. Weather this was to be a midden pit or a prison never became clear, because the builder fell in and died. Some speculated he was pushed. Either way he died, a new owner came, the pit was covered, but not filled in, and a monolith put on top in the form of a light house.
The hill being in the center of a vast forest and the closest ocean being two days away as the dragon flies, no one was quite sure what the light house was for, or even what it was in most cases. When that builder died of a case of gout, the Local Lord of the Land took the property under guardianship, declared it magical in nature and gave it to his best Witch. She in turn gave it to her daughter having absolutely no use for a non-magical lighthouse. The daughter left it to her children, who some generations down the line turned out to be Zeke's parents.
The lighthouse was perfect for Zeke, in that it was just as disappointing and ill-fitting in the world as he was. The two felt right at home with each other.
When Zeke took over the tower, he set about clearing out all the rotten timbers, chalking the loose stones, and covering everything in a thick layer of colored clay. Once certain that it was as sound as it could get, he set the whole thing on fire. This served a few purposes. First, it killed anything that might have escaped his notice living inside. Second it turned the clay into crockery, which already covering the stone, made the place much warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer though he had to use some magic to keep the fires hot enough to do the trick right. Thirdly it impressed all the people who saw it and confirmed that indeed there was a Wizard in the tower and perhaps a dangerously insane one at that to burn his own home.
A Wizard that was not dangerous or insane often got badgered to do things for other people for free, or out of the goodness of his heart. A dangerous or insane Wizard got left alone.
After the burning he had to replace the tower roof, and put in new floors, windows and furniture, but the end result was a rather comfortable and cozy dwelling space with his own built in dungeon. The dungeon, otherwise known as the large hollow pit in the hill, made an excellent potato cellar and a place to throw his dirty laundry. Unfortunately the lighthouse doors were not very big, so coming home these days involved Decimate dragging his belly along the floor to squeeze through.
Decimate and stairs were not easy allies, so Zeke's familiar claimed the first floor of the lighthouse for his den, and Zeke got the second floor for his library, with the third floor as his bedroom and work station. After many long days of walking, eating while walking, muttering and talking largely to himself, find people mostly alive (if he was lucky) performing his magic and very non-flashy mystic operations, the stairs were not Zeke's allies either.
Decimate tried very hard not to destroy things casually. Destruction was what he did of course, he couldn't exactly help it, but he was conscientious and tried to make the destruction purposeful and pointed. He sharpened his claws on dead wood, or the fire logs people set aside to season. He curled his feet when he walked to minimize the damage to floors. In large rooms he gently shifted and nudged the furniture out of the way, rather than simply breaking it with his bulk.
Few ever noticed the lengths he went to.
Zeke of course always saw, and praised him, which was why Decimate did it in the first place. Decimate didn't care what people thought about him, people in his experience were stupid, foul smelling, ill tempered and tasted mostly of grease. Zeke was the one that mattered. Being careful made Zeke proud, so Decimate put forth his best effort.
If the opposite actions had garnered the same response, Decimate would have left every town they meandered through a smoking crater lined in corpses and ash. It would have been much simpler.
Zeke however was a Wizard that preferred living in adversity and doing things the hard way and Decimate plodded alongside him with resolution. Casual destruction was held firmly in check.
On the positive side, when Zeke did ask him to destroy something, he usually meant beyond even magic's ability to reconstruct it, and that was a challenge Decimate actually enjoyed.
Decimate was hard to explain, even to Wizards who specialized in chimera. Zeke knew all about the theory of chimerical construction, and had even gone so far as to create his own, simple one, for the sole excuse of taking it back apart and making sure each piece was healthy and whole after the procedure. He didn't trust theory as far as he could throw it without practical application and plenty of practice.
His chimera had been a simple blend of two birds purchased for a couple of tin pennies. A common chicken, and a pigeon. Both birds were healthy, if exceedingly stupid, and nearing the end of their respective lifespans any way. Combined they became something large, feathery, exceptionally ugly and shrill. After he had combined them, and taken them back apart, they were still healthy, old, and stupid.
He let Decimate have them for dinner.
As far as chimera went however, it was one of the simplest ever made. A joining of two similar species so close they might have been able to breed if given enough impetus. Decimate was as far from simple as the moon from the sun, which Wizards and Witches knew was actually further most of the time than the sun and the planet, but convincing the Lords of the Land and the common folk was an effort in futility.
Zeke wasn't sure he knew all of the creatures that had gone into Decimate, let alone in what order. Chimera by rights weren't supposed to be created out of anything sentient or magical in nature, owing to reasons of the soul and common decency. Either Wizards had either of those traits was up for debate in many courts, so the Akademy stressed the political ramifications of getting caught, and the high possibility of it all going wrong and the chimera being an utter waste of time that may or may not kill you. Wizards generally had a strong survival sense and enjoyed being rich and powerful enough not to risk annoying the people who made them rich and powerful.
A typical day for most Wizards went something like this in people's minds: wake up in a large bed in a warm room in a tall tower. Eat a plentiful warm breakfast brought in by kindly servants. Dress and attend to mystical matters of state with other Wizards. Lunch with someone important. Magic and demons summoning perhaps in the afternoon, with a light dinner before the ritualized dark prayers and mysterious happenings that only occurred under the fall of night.
A day for Zeke went more along the lines of waking up far too damned early, outside on the road or in a barn. Eating what could be found for breakfast. Walking. Eating while walking, picking berries and edible vegetation from the roadside, muttering and talking largely to himself. If lucky, reach where ever he was traveling to, to find the people mostly alive, and proceed to his magic and very non-flashy mystic operations. If very lucky be fed something for dinner and given a barn to sleep in.
Zeke knew exactly why so many had glorious and absurd notions of Wizards, he just didn't know how to go about disillusioning them of the truth that only the very very highest ranking managed to make enough coin to stay locked in their towers. Zeke had a tower himself, as most every Wizard worth his Colors ought to, but 'tower' was a relative term. In most cases a Wizard's tower referred honorably to their home residence which could just as easily be a tenement in the city market district. Or a farm house. There was a full Colored Wizard from Zeke's graduating class that lived, if he remembered correctly, in a small magic dome under his local Lord of the Land's castle moat.
Zeke's tower was at the very edge of his parents vast landship, bequeathed to him with the silent rebuke that he was not to actually attempt visiting the main house. He was their son; the disappointing one.
The structure itself was tower like only in that it was tall, and architecturally rather stupid. It had started out as a hill, then an enterprising someone built a small watch tower upon it to see farther out. Rather than expand on this concept to make a fortification or larger, guarded watch tower, the next person to build on the site razed the structure, dug a deep pit in the center of the hill, and put a wall around it. Weather this was to be a midden pit or a prison never became clear, because the builder fell in and died. Some speculated he was pushed. Either way he died, a new owner came, the pit was covered, but not filled in, and a monolith put on top in the form of a light house.
The hill being in the center of a vast forest and the closest ocean being two days away as the dragon flies, no one was quite sure what the light house was for, or even what it was in most cases. When that builder died of a case of gout, the Local Lord of the Land took the property under guardianship, declared it magical in nature and gave it to his best Witch. She in turn gave it to her daughter having absolutely no use for a non-magical lighthouse. The daughter left it to her children, who some generations down the line turned out to be Zeke's parents.
The lighthouse was perfect for Zeke, in that it was just as disappointing and ill-fitting in the world as he was. The two felt right at home with each other.
When Zeke took over the tower, he set about clearing out all the rotten timbers, chalking the loose stones, and covering everything in a thick layer of colored clay. Once certain that it was as sound as it could get, he set the whole thing on fire. This served a few purposes. First, it killed anything that might have escaped his notice living inside. Second it turned the clay into crockery, which already covering the stone, made the place much warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer though he had to use some magic to keep the fires hot enough to do the trick right. Thirdly it impressed all the people who saw it and confirmed that indeed there was a Wizard in the tower and perhaps a dangerously insane one at that to burn his own home.
A Wizard that was not dangerous or insane often got badgered to do things for other people for free, or out of the goodness of his heart. A dangerous or insane Wizard got left alone.
After the burning he had to replace the tower roof, and put in new floors, windows and furniture, but the end result was a rather comfortable and cozy dwelling space with his own built in dungeon. The dungeon, otherwise known as the large hollow pit in the hill, made an excellent potato cellar and a place to throw his dirty laundry. Unfortunately the lighthouse doors were not very big, so coming home these days involved Decimate dragging his belly along the floor to squeeze through.
Decimate and stairs were not easy allies, so Zeke's familiar claimed the first floor of the lighthouse for his den, and Zeke got the second floor for his library, with the third floor as his bedroom and work station. After many long days of walking, eating while walking, muttering and talking largely to himself, find people mostly alive (if he was lucky) performing his magic and very non-flashy mystic operations, the stairs were not Zeke's allies either.
Decimate tried very hard not to destroy things casually. Destruction was what he did of course, he couldn't exactly help it, but he was conscientious and tried to make the destruction purposeful and pointed. He sharpened his claws on dead wood, or the fire logs people set aside to season. He curled his feet when he walked to minimize the damage to floors. In large rooms he gently shifted and nudged the furniture out of the way, rather than simply breaking it with his bulk.
Few ever noticed the lengths he went to.
Zeke of course always saw, and praised him, which was why Decimate did it in the first place. Decimate didn't care what people thought about him, people in his experience were stupid, foul smelling, ill tempered and tasted mostly of grease. Zeke was the one that mattered. Being careful made Zeke proud, so Decimate put forth his best effort.
If the opposite actions had garnered the same response, Decimate would have left every town they meandered through a smoking crater lined in corpses and ash. It would have been much simpler.
Zeke however was a Wizard that preferred living in adversity and doing things the hard way and Decimate plodded alongside him with resolution. Casual destruction was held firmly in check.
On the positive side, when Zeke did ask him to destroy something, he usually meant beyond even magic's ability to reconstruct it, and that was a challenge Decimate actually enjoyed.
Decimate was hard to explain, even to Wizards who specialized in chimera. Zeke knew all about the theory of chimerical construction, and had even gone so far as to create his own, simple one, for the sole excuse of taking it back apart and making sure each piece was healthy and whole after the procedure. He didn't trust theory as far as he could throw it without practical application and plenty of practice.
His chimera had been a simple blend of two birds purchased for a couple of tin pennies. A common chicken, and a pigeon. Both birds were healthy, if exceedingly stupid, and nearing the end of their respective lifespans any way. Combined they became something large, feathery, exceptionally ugly and shrill. After he had combined them, and taken them back apart, they were still healthy, old, and stupid.
He let Decimate have them for dinner.
As far as chimera went however, it was one of the simplest ever made. A joining of two similar species so close they might have been able to breed if given enough impetus. Decimate was as far from simple as the moon from the sun, which Wizards and Witches knew was actually further most of the time than the sun and the planet, but convincing the Lords of the Land and the common folk was an effort in futility.
Zeke wasn't sure he knew all of the creatures that had gone into Decimate, let alone in what order. Chimera by rights weren't supposed to be created out of anything sentient or magical in nature, owing to reasons of the soul and common decency. Either Wizards had either of those traits was up for debate in many courts, so the Akademy stressed the political ramifications of getting caught, and the high possibility of it all going wrong and the chimera being an utter waste of time that may or may not kill you. Wizards generally had a strong survival sense and enjoyed being rich and powerful enough not to risk annoying the people who made them rich and powerful.
