![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
masterghandalfWarning: This chapter continues the “Elmara” plotline, and also contains a brief reference to attempted ethnic cleansing.
NOTE: This is a crosspost from Das_Sporking2. Previous entries of this spork may be found here.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster: The Making of a Mage! Last time, for contrived reasons Mystra turned Elminster into a woman named Elmara, and she became the student of an elf wizard/priest named Braer. Today, we pick up where we left off, as Elmara leaves the High Forest to go traveling, makes some really inexplicable decisions, and meets the book’s major secondary (non-magelord) antagonist, who we’ve heard of a couple of times but not actually seen yet. Joining us today will once again be Keeri and Mira!
Chapter Nine: The Way of a Mage
Mira: *fiddling nervously with her scarf* I, ah, think I’ll start off today? Since our opening quote seems rather relevant to me, and all. The way of a mage is a dark and lonely one. This is why so many wizards fall early into the darkness of the grave—or later into the endless twilight of undeath. Such bright prospects are why the road to mastery of magecraft is always such a crowded one. See, this is why where I come from, we have guilds. To prevent this sort of thing from happening (and yes, we may be necromancers, but the pursuit of undeath is generally discouraged, unless one has projects one simply must see through oneself and would take longer than a mortal lifespan to achieve – we seek to understand death and work with it, not to sidestep it entirely). And why, if the “road to mastery” is so miserable, does that make it a crowded one? If it’s just the lure of power at the end, why not say that? Then again, the author of this quote is Jhalivar Thrunn from Trail Tales of the North, which sounds like a collection of folklore, not magical lore. I wonder if he just doesn’t know what he’s talking about…
MG: Especially considering Faerun has plenty of magocracies, magical organizations, etc. Mages just stumbling into power on their own and failing because they don’t have any sort of support system is probably something that happens sometimes, but I don’t think it’s the norm. And this isn’t the first, and won’t be the last, chapter quote where Greenwood presents a dingy, cynical take on something (wizardry, in this case) that he’ll also try to present as unironically cool… I guess he’s trying to sound deep and complicated, but I don’t think he’s quite managing it.
Keeri: I think I’ve known bards like that. Well, we open our chapter on Elmara, who’s watching a flame that has suddenly appeared in midair above a rock, where there wasn’t a flame a few seconds ago. She wonders if it’s Mystra, but the flame just vanishes without doing anything more; she says she’d hoped for more, but Braer tells her that ‘tis more than most of my folk ever see of the Lady. Yeah, got to agree there – divine intervention doesn’t usually just happen on command, for most of us (though considering Elminster’s apparently going to end up with Mystra on call at some point, I can’t help but feel like Greenwood’s trying to be coy). Elmara asks if many elves worship Mystra; you’ve known him for at least two years by now (maybe more? How long has it been since last chapter?), and has that never come up before? “Not many … we have our own gods, and most of us have always preferred to turn our back on the rest of the world and all its unpleasantnesses and keep to the old ways. The problem is that the rest of the world always seems to reach out and thrust blades into our backsides while we’re trying to ignore it.” Which is a very good point, and something I’d imagine more elves could stand to learn (and some other people I could name).
MG: On the one hand, at least Greenwood is giving a token acknowledgment that most elves don’t worship Mystra, but on the other hand, I’m not sure what “not turning one’s back on the world” and “worshipping Mystra” have to do with each other. It’s not like the Seldarine (the elven pantheon, that is) are terribly enthused when their worshippers hide from the world and let their civilization slowly dwindle away either.
Keeri: Anyway, Elmara is surprised to hear an elf use the word “backside” – why? – which amuses Braer. “I never thought to see a human hear an elf say it, if it comes to that. Do you still think of us as unearthly tall and thin noble creatures, gliding around above it all? …“We have you fooled with the rest, then. We’re as earthy and as untidy as the forest. We are the forest, lass. Try not to forget that as you walk out into the world of men.” I mean, most of the elves I’ve known (not Ember, she’s adorable, but in general) sure seem to want the rest of the world to think that about them… and, again, backside? What’s the big deal with backside? Or… oh, is that supposed to be a euphemism for something else? Because if so, it’s just about the least crass way of putting it I can think of – it’s not like he said “ass” or even “butt.” That’s just cute. Elmara’s more interested in what Braer means by “walk out.” You’ve been happier here than ever before in your short life—but you know you’ve learned all you can here that’ll make of yourself a better blade against the magelords … and you grow restless to move on. You know, if Elmara really is “happier than she’s ever been,” maybe we could have seen that instead of just getting a sort of vague implication of it? Braer goes on to say that he knows Elmara well enough now to know that she can’t rest until her parents are avenged and the magelords overthrown, and that she feels that she has to do this herself. You didn’t want to leave Farl, and now you don’t want to leave me. Are you sure you shouldn’t stay a woman the rest of your days? Elmara says she didn’t know she had a choice (umm, at least where I come from, we do have spells and potions for that sort of thing…) and Braer says that when she’s become a powerful mage, she will. Braer assures her that her time in the forest hasn’t been wasted, and that he’ll miss her but won’t grieve, since he knows she’ll come back when she needs to. My task hasn’t been to teach you spells that’ll blast magelords and their dragon steeds out of the sky, but to teach you familiarity with magic and wisdom in the use of it. I am a priest of Mystra, yes—but there’s a priestess of Mystra greater far than I am. You must go to see her soon, outside the forest. Her temple is at Ladyhouse Falls, and she knows more of the ways of men … and of where you should go in the days ahead. Okay, that’s great and all, but again, if the point of all of this was for Elmara to learn wisdom, shouldn’t we have seen some of the wisdom she’s supposed to be learning? I know I couldn’t tell you what it is, beyond some fairly banal “respect the land and magic and don’t be an asshole.”
Mira: Elmara says that she doesn’t want to go, but Braer tells her that he knows she does. However, there’s one particular spell of revealment that Braer wants to get her to cast properly before she goes. Elmara insists that “It’s just a spell I’ve a little trouble with, one among—what is it?—two score and more?” And I’m reminded again that although Greenwood is treating this like it’s a subplot we should be familiar with, in fact it’s entirely taken place off-page. I thought this was what this book was supposed to be about? Braer tells her not to call it “just a spell,” and that she needs to revere magic and hold it in high esteem for its own sake, not just treat it as a source of easy power, and on that, at least, I must agree. Elmara snaps that she knows that and asks if Braer thinks she’s learned nothing (maybe I’d know if we’d seen more of your tutelage?) before apologizing for her outburst and saying that she knew better when she was a thief (when you tried to steal everything that wasn’t nailed down including, I might add, the clothes off a sleeping woman’s body?). “You were a man, then, in a city of men—with a close friend to joke with—and you knew, every moment, that lack of iron control would mean death. Now you’re a woman, attuned to the forest, feeling its flows of emotion and energy. Little things are more intense outside the crowded city, more raw, more engaging.” Ummm, I will admit that I’ve lived a rather sheltered life, by most standards, and certainly have little experience of what life is like outside of cities, but the notion that a man has to be more concerned about not speaking his mind doesn’t quite seem right to me? At least, some of the young men in my classes seemed to think every thought that came through their heads was brilliant and it was vitally important we all knew it, even when it was nothing of the sort…
Elmara then prepares to cast the revealment spell, though she first gives Braer an apologetic little-lass smile for some reason. And this time, despite her previous difficulties, the spell works perfectly, and she finds the entire world is alive with magic around her. Braer comments that she’s finally able to see it (again, this would be much more meaningful if we had seen Elmara’s struggle with this spell before) but then she turns her sight on Braer himself and is stunned by what she finds. “Ye—ye’re a dragon!” *beat* I can honestly say I was not expecting that. Braer assures her that he’s an elf, and only sometimes assumes the form of a dragon, and he’s the last surviving reason the magelords hunted so many dragons in and around Athalantar. *beat* Did… did we know they did that? I don’t think we did. And I find it very hard to imagine the magelords we’ve seen so far bringing down a dragon of any notable power (save perhaps Undarl, who at least would have a dragon of his own to help). Elmara realizes the implication that the other elf-dragons were all killed and says she’s sorry, and Braer corrects her that she shouldn’t be – it’s the magelords who should be sorry. Elmara promises Braer that she will avenge his friends soon, but he tells her she’s not ready yet, and a single archmage, no matter how mighty, can’t hope to succeed against all the magelords and their servant creatures, if they whelm against you… and you haven’t even learned to be an archmage yet. But… didn’t the Magister, upon being summoned unexpectedly into a room with multiple magelords, not effortlessly slaughter them all, including their leader? I seem to recall he did. Perhaps the good Braer is misinformed? Or perhaps Greenwood is bad at building tension? Elmara says she’s afraid she’ll die with the magelords still ruling Athalantar, and Braer admits he’s sensed that fear in her and that’s why she needs to go, so she can learn more than he can teach her. But Braer tells her not to go until he’s conjured crying towels for both of them, because elves hate long farewells even more than humans do. And indeed, the two of them tearfully embrace as the scene ends.
Keeri: And so, we cut to sometime later as Elmara leaves the forest and heads for Ladyhouse Falls. She felt suddenly naked, away from the sheltering trees, but fought down the urge to hurry. With this author, just be glad you’re not literally naked. I remember the last chapter! She soon passes a marker and realizes she’s outside of Athalantar; it felt marvelous to set foot outside of the Kingdom of the Stag for the first time in her life. Wait, was the High Forest actually part of Athalantar, or at least the part of it you were in was? Could’ve fooled me! She was wading through waist-deep brush, where the Great Fires had been set ten years agone to drive the elves out of all these lands and take them for men. But men huddled in ever-more-crowded cities and towns along the Delimbiyr, and summer by summer, the forest crept back to reclaim the hills. Soon the elves—more bitter and swifter with their arrows than they’d once been—would return too. Yeah, would’ve been nice to have heard of this before! Seriously, if there’s large-scale persecution of elves to drive them off their lands and claim it for Athalantar, that’s a pretty big deal that should be affecting things! She went on with joy in her step, and did not halt until it grew too dark to go on and the wolves began to howl. “Joy in your step” doesn’t seem like quite the right reaction to “walking thought the site of recent attempted genocide and conquest” to me. Also, maybe you should be worried about those wolves. But if she is, we won’t find out about it, as the scene ends there.
We then cut to later, as Elmara approaches Ladyhouse Falls and is disappointed to find that it’s a few ragged stone cottages and a tumbledown barn, but she can hear the waterfalls nearby and knows this must be the place. And as she approaches the main building, she can see that it’s tightly woven around with magic. And then she nearly walks right into an old woman outside; Elmara apologizes for not seeing her and says she’s here to seek out Mystra’s temple. The old woman asks why, and Elmara explains how she met Mystra herself and knelt to her. The old woman says that everyone says that (really? Seems kind of a dangerous thing to claim if you can’t back it up, gods being gods and all) and asks what life has taught Elmara so far. “I’ve learned how to hate, steal, grieve, and kill,” she said. “I hope there’s more to being a priestess of Mystra than that.” The old woman says that for many, not much more – what a wonderful religion this sounds like – but she’s willing to see if Elmara can do better. Elmara offers to help the woman with her garden, but she says she doesn’t need her help, since she doesn’t need someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing messing things up and tells her to get ye gone. Elmara’s taken aback by this, and the woman explains further: “Go and walk the world, lass; Mystra doesn’t gather toothless, chanting men or maids to kneel to stones carved in her seeming. All Faerûn around us is Mystra’s true temple.” So, isn’t this woman – this priestess, I’m assuming – just telling Elmara what Braer already told her in more words? And telling her to do what she was about to start doing? What was the point of sending her here, anyway? Just for a second opinion? “Go and do as I bid, thus; and listen well, lass. Learn from mages, without yourself taking the title or spellhurling habits of a wizard. Spread word of the power of magic, its mysteries and lore; make folk you meet hunger to work magic themselves, and give those who seem most eager a taste of spellcasting, for no more payment than food and a place to sleep. Make maids and men into mages.” Huh; sounds less like you want a priestess or a mage and more like you want a bard. I’d offer my services, but Mystra’s not really impressed me that much so far, so I’ll hold back. “Be guided by your own heart—but know that Mystra forbids nothing. Go and experience everything that can befall a man and a maid in Faerûn. Everything.” I don’t know… some of the things a “man or maid” can experience are things you don’t want to experience. I’ve been buried alive (by a demon lord, no less); I don’t think you want that experience. And if Mystra forbids nothing, no wonder you’ve got a problem with evil mages running around, knocking over kingdoms! Having boundaries is good, actually.
Mira: I quite agree. In Hollowfaust, we take our laws and the rules of our guilds very seriously – because we’ve seen what happens when our arts are misused. But the priestess tells Elmara to Sit down and eat first, fool-head. Bitterness lends the weak-witted wings … always try to make a stop to eat into a time to think, and you’ll think more in a season than most think in all their days. I don’t know about that… my friends often had to remind me to eat, when I was an apprentice, usually because I got too lost in thought... she then conjures a plate of food, and Elmara recoils at first, explaining that she has seen magic used to kill and destroy and is therefore wary of it. I thought you had learned to love magic, under Braer’s tutelage? Or is Greenwood just being inconsistent again? She explains how Mystra called her personally, and the priestess tells her to consider herself fortunate, since many mages dream of meeting the goddess and most see her only once, if that. Elmara admits to the priestess that she’ll need strong magic to do what she has to do, and the priestess tells her she’ll need to eat first, and to think about what she said. She reminds Elmara that Mystra forbids nothing, and to think of everything (I at least can think of several ways that might end poorly…) and the scene ends there.
We then cut to later, as the priestess watches Elmara leave, and then returns to the temple and begins to transform until a tall and shapely lady in shimmering, iridescent robes strolled to the temple door. She turned once more to look where Elmara had gone. Her eyes were dark and yet golden, and little flames danced in them. *she sighs* And of course, she was secretly beautiful. And, we soon learn, not a priestess at all but Mystra herself as another voice asks if she’s seen enough. She says that Elmara might be “The one” but doesn’t explain the one what… and then the temple itself transforms into a bronze dragon, and if I wasn’t sitting down already, I think I’d need to. The dragon reminds Mystra that she’s thought this before about other people, and Mystra acknowledges it before thanking the dragon, which then transforms into the human form of the same old priestess Mystra had been impersonating. So, was the dragon the true priestess all along? I think? Except Mystra was herself playing the part for Elmara, and… ah. I thought the gods at home were confusing! The priestess-dragon then turns and walks back into the real temple, while Mystra herself vanishes in a flurry of lights, and the scene ends.
Keeri: And so, we find ourselves with Elmara on the road. Apparently, Braer only gave her a sack with twenty gold pieces before she left – I hope that’s because that’s all he could spare, and not because he did it on purpose, considering – so she can’t sleep at an inn every night and often has to sleep outside, but she does have enough money to at least get hot meals and can use magic to scare off any locals who are feeling… bothersome. One evening, she finds herself in an inn somewhere in the Mlembryn Lands, wherever that is, paying for her supper by telling tales of magic for the other patrons *she sighs wistfully* ah, that brings back memories. Right now, she’s in the middle of a story. …and the last the king and all his court saw of the nine Royal Wizards, they were standing on thin air, facing each other in a circle, and rising! …Lightnings danced ever faster between their hands, weaving a web so bright that it hurt the eyes to look upon it – but the last thing the king saw, ere they rose out of sight, was a dragon appearing in the midst of those lightnings, fading in, he said… Well, okay, that’s pretty impressive, but I still can’t ignore the fact that we’ve joined all these people in the middle of the story. Who’s the king? What’s the kingdom? Who are the royal wizards and what are they doing? Why’s the dragon there? I have no idea! It all sounds impressive, but I’m not sure it actually means anything…
MG: Yeah, I can’t help but think that this section could have been used to establish some actual lore and history of the setting, but what we do get is so vague it barely seems relevant to anything, and I’m not sure if this is something that actually happened or just something Elmara has heard of secondhand, or even just made up. It’s a pity; in-universe myth and folklore is a great vector for worldbuilding, used properly, but while Greenwood is obviously good at creating lore, if all the books of his I’ve read are any indication, he’s quite bad at actually integrating it with his fiction (seriously, if I hadn’t know he was the original creator of Faerun before I ever read anything by him, I don’t think I’d have ever guessed it just from his novels).
Keeri: Tell me about it. Well, Elmara is suddenly interrupted as armed guards and a splendidly dressed, curl-bearded man barge in, the leader addressing her as outlander! Elmara asks who he is, and he says it’s Lord to you! I am Lord Mage Dunsteen, and I bid you take heed, wench! Charming man, clearly. The matters you so idly speak of are not fancies, but sorcery… magic interests everyone with power – but it is, and rightly, an art of secrets – secrets to be learned only by those fit to know them. If you are wise, you will cease your talk of sorcery at once. What secrets? From what we saw of the story, Elmara’s descriptions were vague, describing what the wizards were doing but not how! I know a bit of magic myself, and there wasn’t anything in there that I could replicate even if I tried. Or is this “Lord Mage” (not to be confused with a magelord, I presume) just a paranoid bully? Considering the quality of Greenwood’s usual antagonists, I’m going to guess the latter. Elmara says she was instructed to speak of magic by a priestess of Mystra, and was sent out into Faerun at Mystra’s bidding, but Dunsteen doesn’t believe it, and when Elmara says Mystra spoke to her, he decides she’s mad. Faerun is home to many mad folk, some so lost in their wits, I’ve heard, that they can delude even themselves. *rolling her eyes* So, you’re saying that a delusional person… is deluded. Thank you for that stirring insight, O Great Lord Mage. I’d be lost without you! Well, Elmara says she can tell Dunsteen at least thinks that he’s an important man, and that if he’s really as great a mage as he claims, he should know spells to tell when someone is speaking truth. Yeah, and spells like that can be tricked – gods know we have enough trouble with cultists and traitors where I come from to prove that. Dunsteen just snaps that he won’t waste spells on a madwoman, and Elmara resumes her story while he glares at her for a bit before stalking to a private booth and taking a seat, and the scene ends there.
Mira: And so, we find later that evening, Elmara is making her way under the moonlight to the hollow where she intends to sleep, wrapping her cloak around herself to keep off the cold. *crossly* You know, in most places where I come from, hospitality is sacred. I can’t say I think much of the local people here, letting someone they at least know is a traveling storyteller sleep outside in the cold! Suddenly, Elmara hears branches snap behind her and realizes she’s being followed; a moment later, recognizing how heavy and clumsy the footfalls are, she decides it must be a certain lord mage. She calls out in greeting to him, and a moment later he blasts the trees with fire, Elmara barely managing to dodge in time. She taunts him, saying that a campfire would have been sufficient, while tossing a rock to make it sound like she’s running away; sure enough, he blasts the wrong direction while shouting Die, dangerous fool! Elmara then blasts him with a spell of her own while he’s distracted, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground, while demanding to know why he’s attacking her. Instead of answering, Dunsteen tries to blast her again, but she manages to cast faster, and catches him in a truth spell (I don’t think that would stop him from attacking? I think those fireballs represented a very sincere and truthful desire to harm her!). Finally, he speaks the truth. I don’t want half the folk in Faerun to work magic! What price my powers then, eh? *she lets out a very uncharacteristic giggle* Oh… I mean, it’s not really funny, but… it kind of is? Are you afraid that a traveling storyteller simply talking about magic can make people into powerful wizards? I come from a city that’s literally built around the practice of necromancy, and everyone knows it, but even so, most people in Hollowfaust aren’t necromancers! Mastering magic takes years of study and practice, more than most people are willing, or have the opportunity, to commit to– simply hearing about wizards doesn’t turn people into them! One would think that making people more in awe of what wizards can do would improve your standing, oh Lord Mage! Then again, you don’t seem to be very bright, so that might explain some things…
Elmara then announces that Dunsteen lives only by her whim – is that not normally a villainous line? – before collecting herself and casting another spell and marching out onto empty air to hover in front of him. I do not wish to slay ye, Lord Mage. Mystra bade me bring more magic into Faerun, not rob the Realms of the lives and skills of wizards. She tells Dunsteen to promise to go home and leave her alone, and she won’t trouble him further either (said in a voice of doom, which I can only imagine as Elmara putting on a very silly booming voice, which I don’t think is what Greenwood intended). Dunsteen starts backing away, but before he goes, Elmara has one last question for him. I was told to learn all I can from the mages I met. Where would you suggest I go to learn more about being a mage? *she sighs* Elmara, dear, haven’t we already proven this man is a braggart and a bully who probably doesn’t know nearly as much as he thinks he does? Why would you think he’d be able to help you, truth spell or no? But Dunsteen has an answer. Go see Ilhundyl, ruler of the Calishar, and ask him that… and you shall have the best answer any living man can give. But because Dunsteen has turned away from her as he said it, Elmara did not see his twisted smile. Oh. Oh dear. That bodes ill, doesn’t it?
MG: Yes. And this is where I have to say Elmara is having an absolute bout of plot-induced stupidity. We know at this point that Dunsteen’s a louse, that he’s paranoid enough to think that someone telling stories about wizards is a threat to his power, and a weak enough mage that someone who’s only been training for approx. two years or so can kick his ass with minimal effort. Even with the truth spell, there’s no reason to trust him (and you can stick with the literal truth and get away with quite a lot, as Elmara, the former thief and bandit, ought to know; and even if he’s being completely forthright, there’s no reason to think his advice is worth anything). She’s also heard of Ilhundyl before (as have we, a couple of times, if you’ll recall). She knows he’s considered far more powerful than any of the magelords, that he’s a tyrant who uses magic to rule his own kingdom (though technically, per the FRWiki the Calishar was an emirate), cruel enough that people apparently fled his rule in droves, nicknamed “the Mad Mage” for his odd obsessions and the single-minded fixation with which he pursues them, and that he’s notorious enough in all of these things that his reputation has spread as far north as Athalantar. The guy’s bad news, in other words, and it doesn’t take much thinking to figure out that even though he is legitimately a great wizard, sending Elmara his way was not Dunsteen doing her any favors. So, what is she about to do? Follow her enemy’s advice and toddle right off to see the Mad Mage to ask him to take her on as his apprentice, of course! And, as anyone with half a brain could predict, it’s going to end badly. You know, I have many, many issues with Elminster as a character (at least as Greenwood writes and uses him) but he’s not usually this dumb.
Keeri: Yeah, and I could pledge myself to Deskari to try and get him to take down Baphomet for me, but I won’t because that’s a phenomenally stupid idea, and that’s about what this sounds like. At least in terms of getting involved with a greater evil to help you learn to defeat a lesser evil, which is just about backwards. And sure enough, we open our next scene with Ilhundyl himself, as he’s just about to receive a guest. Most intruders wandered in the maze, calling helplessly until Ilhundyl tired of their cries and had them brought to an audience chamber, or released the lions to feed. Oh, wow, what a wonderful man – aren’t you just so excited to be learning from him? This young lass, however, strode through the illusory walls and around the portal traps as though she could see them. …and, Elmara’s already good enough to effortlessly navigate an archmage’s security setup. Why am I not surprised? But Ilhundyl keeps watching as Elmara – and yes, we’re in his point of view and he knows her name, and I don’t know why – makes her way out of the maze, across the lawn, and straight towards his invisible door, while avoiding the guardian golems and statues he has lined up beside it. The Mad Mage valued his privacy, and his life… and not many days passed without someone trying to deprive him of either. Thus his Castle of Sorcery was ringed by traps mechanical as well as magical. Ilhundyl then rings a bell, and at that signal a trapdoor opens just below Elmara as she steps through the door, and she falls into it. He then turns to his servant Garadic and tells him to fetch Elmara’s body, but a moment later stops, stunned, as he watches Elmara rise up out of the trap and back onto solid ground. At this, Ilhundyl revises his orders – he wants Elmara brought to him alive, and the scene ends there.
We then cut to Ilhundyl’s audience chamber, as Elmara is explaining to him why she’s come. A priestess of Mystra told me to learn about sorcery from mages… and a mage told me you were the best man alive to tell me what it is to work magic. Ilhundyl asks why she wants to study magic, and Elmara says that she simply wants to serve Mystra as best she can. Ilhundyl then performs a spell that casts the whole room into darkness, save for the two of them, and when he speaks his voice echoed with tones of doom and oh, Great Dreamer, I think Mira’s right, and now Ilhundyl’s doing a silly voice, too! Know then, O Elmara, that you must apprentice yourself to a mage, and once you learn to hurl fire and lightning, slip away without a word to anyone, travel far and join an adventuring band. Then see the Realms, face danger, and use your spells in earnest… When you can battle a lich spell for spell and prevail, seek out Ondil’s Book of Spells and take it to the Altar of Mystra on the island called Mystra’s Dance. Surrender it to the goddess there… once you know you hold Ondil’s tome in your hands, look no longer at its pages, nor seek to learn the spells therein, for this is the sacrifice Mystra demands! Go, now, and do this. Once he finishes speaking, Ilhundyl fades into the darkness himself; Elmara thanks him and then turns to leave the palace, the doors shutting behind her as she goes. Once she’s gone, Ilhundyl drops the act. And once you’ve got me that book, go and get yourself killed, mageling. *fanning herself in mock horror* And so it turns out that the murderous tyrannical wizard… is evil. Whoever could have seen that coming? His servant Garadic comes over to his side, letting his human disguise drop to reveal that he has scales and fangs, and asks what his master means (I think that’s pretty clear, myself…). Ilhundyl explains that I’ve never met anyone with so much latent power before. If she lives, she could grow in power to master the Realms… but she’ll die. So, it sounds like, by following the small-town bully wizard’s advice, instead of a teacher Elmara’s just gone and made herself another enemy! And unlike the magelords, this one actually knows about her and actively wants her dead! Bravo! Garadic asks what will happen if Elmara doesn’t die, and Ilhundyl tells him that You will see to it that she does, and the chapter ends there.
MG: And, okay, quite aside from Elmara’s sudden bout of idiocy in thinking that Ilhundyl – a man she already has reason to think of as being worse than the magelords she’s trying to bring down – is going to be of any help to her at all, I have some issues with this scene. First off, as far as I know, Ilhundyl himself has never been officially statted, but he’s supposed to be far stronger than any of the magelords, he’s repeatedly described as an archmage, and is supposed to legitimately be one of the greatest wizards of his age (based on some of the later dialogue, he may be number two, behind only the Magister – though that’s not counting some of the really old and powerful ones like Larloch, Ioulaum or Halaster who are already around at this point, but mostly uninterested in the world at large and not relevant to this particular story). And Elmara’s already powerful enough to casually walk through his defenses and impress him with her potential. We’ve officially reached the start of Elminster being OP (having apparently gained that status during the timeskip) and it’s going to get worse from here. For another, I have no idea how he sensed Elmara’s “latent potential,” unless he had some sort of divination spell going that he never told us about. After all, wizardry is a learned skill, not an inborn power (again, Elminster’s not a sorcerer and never has been). I’m reminded of the prologue of Elaine Cunningham’s Daughter of the Drow, and how Liriel (the titular character) is determined by her father Gromph (a drow archmage) to be a remarkable magical prodigy – he actually tests her by having her cast some basic spells which are well above what a child her age should be able to manage (Liriel being the drow equivalent of a toddler at the time) and that tells him how gifted she is, he doesn’t just know it. But, regardless, we’re now done with the chapter, and Part III. Next time we begin Part IV: Magus – and find that Elmara has, inexplicably, taken Ilhundyl’s advice at face value and joined a band of obvious murderhobos. Yay. But the good news is, with this chapter out of the way, we’re now officially halfway through the book! We’ll see you then.
NOTE: This is a crosspost from Das_Sporking2. Previous entries of this spork may be found here.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster: The Making of a Mage! Last time, for contrived reasons Mystra turned Elminster into a woman named Elmara, and she became the student of an elf wizard/priest named Braer. Today, we pick up where we left off, as Elmara leaves the High Forest to go traveling, makes some really inexplicable decisions, and meets the book’s major secondary (non-magelord) antagonist, who we’ve heard of a couple of times but not actually seen yet. Joining us today will once again be Keeri and Mira!
Chapter Nine: The Way of a Mage
Mira: *fiddling nervously with her scarf* I, ah, think I’ll start off today? Since our opening quote seems rather relevant to me, and all. The way of a mage is a dark and lonely one. This is why so many wizards fall early into the darkness of the grave—or later into the endless twilight of undeath. Such bright prospects are why the road to mastery of magecraft is always such a crowded one. See, this is why where I come from, we have guilds. To prevent this sort of thing from happening (and yes, we may be necromancers, but the pursuit of undeath is generally discouraged, unless one has projects one simply must see through oneself and would take longer than a mortal lifespan to achieve – we seek to understand death and work with it, not to sidestep it entirely). And why, if the “road to mastery” is so miserable, does that make it a crowded one? If it’s just the lure of power at the end, why not say that? Then again, the author of this quote is Jhalivar Thrunn from Trail Tales of the North, which sounds like a collection of folklore, not magical lore. I wonder if he just doesn’t know what he’s talking about…
MG: Especially considering Faerun has plenty of magocracies, magical organizations, etc. Mages just stumbling into power on their own and failing because they don’t have any sort of support system is probably something that happens sometimes, but I don’t think it’s the norm. And this isn’t the first, and won’t be the last, chapter quote where Greenwood presents a dingy, cynical take on something (wizardry, in this case) that he’ll also try to present as unironically cool… I guess he’s trying to sound deep and complicated, but I don’t think he’s quite managing it.
Keeri: I think I’ve known bards like that. Well, we open our chapter on Elmara, who’s watching a flame that has suddenly appeared in midair above a rock, where there wasn’t a flame a few seconds ago. She wonders if it’s Mystra, but the flame just vanishes without doing anything more; she says she’d hoped for more, but Braer tells her that ‘tis more than most of my folk ever see of the Lady. Yeah, got to agree there – divine intervention doesn’t usually just happen on command, for most of us (though considering Elminster’s apparently going to end up with Mystra on call at some point, I can’t help but feel like Greenwood’s trying to be coy). Elmara asks if many elves worship Mystra; you’ve known him for at least two years by now (maybe more? How long has it been since last chapter?), and has that never come up before? “Not many … we have our own gods, and most of us have always preferred to turn our back on the rest of the world and all its unpleasantnesses and keep to the old ways. The problem is that the rest of the world always seems to reach out and thrust blades into our backsides while we’re trying to ignore it.” Which is a very good point, and something I’d imagine more elves could stand to learn (and some other people I could name).
MG: On the one hand, at least Greenwood is giving a token acknowledgment that most elves don’t worship Mystra, but on the other hand, I’m not sure what “not turning one’s back on the world” and “worshipping Mystra” have to do with each other. It’s not like the Seldarine (the elven pantheon, that is) are terribly enthused when their worshippers hide from the world and let their civilization slowly dwindle away either.
Keeri: Anyway, Elmara is surprised to hear an elf use the word “backside” – why? – which amuses Braer. “I never thought to see a human hear an elf say it, if it comes to that. Do you still think of us as unearthly tall and thin noble creatures, gliding around above it all? …“We have you fooled with the rest, then. We’re as earthy and as untidy as the forest. We are the forest, lass. Try not to forget that as you walk out into the world of men.” I mean, most of the elves I’ve known (not Ember, she’s adorable, but in general) sure seem to want the rest of the world to think that about them… and, again, backside? What’s the big deal with backside? Or… oh, is that supposed to be a euphemism for something else? Because if so, it’s just about the least crass way of putting it I can think of – it’s not like he said “ass” or even “butt.” That’s just cute. Elmara’s more interested in what Braer means by “walk out.” You’ve been happier here than ever before in your short life—but you know you’ve learned all you can here that’ll make of yourself a better blade against the magelords … and you grow restless to move on. You know, if Elmara really is “happier than she’s ever been,” maybe we could have seen that instead of just getting a sort of vague implication of it? Braer goes on to say that he knows Elmara well enough now to know that she can’t rest until her parents are avenged and the magelords overthrown, and that she feels that she has to do this herself. You didn’t want to leave Farl, and now you don’t want to leave me. Are you sure you shouldn’t stay a woman the rest of your days? Elmara says she didn’t know she had a choice (umm, at least where I come from, we do have spells and potions for that sort of thing…) and Braer says that when she’s become a powerful mage, she will. Braer assures her that her time in the forest hasn’t been wasted, and that he’ll miss her but won’t grieve, since he knows she’ll come back when she needs to. My task hasn’t been to teach you spells that’ll blast magelords and their dragon steeds out of the sky, but to teach you familiarity with magic and wisdom in the use of it. I am a priest of Mystra, yes—but there’s a priestess of Mystra greater far than I am. You must go to see her soon, outside the forest. Her temple is at Ladyhouse Falls, and she knows more of the ways of men … and of where you should go in the days ahead. Okay, that’s great and all, but again, if the point of all of this was for Elmara to learn wisdom, shouldn’t we have seen some of the wisdom she’s supposed to be learning? I know I couldn’t tell you what it is, beyond some fairly banal “respect the land and magic and don’t be an asshole.”
Mira: Elmara says that she doesn’t want to go, but Braer tells her that he knows she does. However, there’s one particular spell of revealment that Braer wants to get her to cast properly before she goes. Elmara insists that “It’s just a spell I’ve a little trouble with, one among—what is it?—two score and more?” And I’m reminded again that although Greenwood is treating this like it’s a subplot we should be familiar with, in fact it’s entirely taken place off-page. I thought this was what this book was supposed to be about? Braer tells her not to call it “just a spell,” and that she needs to revere magic and hold it in high esteem for its own sake, not just treat it as a source of easy power, and on that, at least, I must agree. Elmara snaps that she knows that and asks if Braer thinks she’s learned nothing (maybe I’d know if we’d seen more of your tutelage?) before apologizing for her outburst and saying that she knew better when she was a thief (when you tried to steal everything that wasn’t nailed down including, I might add, the clothes off a sleeping woman’s body?). “You were a man, then, in a city of men—with a close friend to joke with—and you knew, every moment, that lack of iron control would mean death. Now you’re a woman, attuned to the forest, feeling its flows of emotion and energy. Little things are more intense outside the crowded city, more raw, more engaging.” Ummm, I will admit that I’ve lived a rather sheltered life, by most standards, and certainly have little experience of what life is like outside of cities, but the notion that a man has to be more concerned about not speaking his mind doesn’t quite seem right to me? At least, some of the young men in my classes seemed to think every thought that came through their heads was brilliant and it was vitally important we all knew it, even when it was nothing of the sort…
Elmara then prepares to cast the revealment spell, though she first gives Braer an apologetic little-lass smile for some reason. And this time, despite her previous difficulties, the spell works perfectly, and she finds the entire world is alive with magic around her. Braer comments that she’s finally able to see it (again, this would be much more meaningful if we had seen Elmara’s struggle with this spell before) but then she turns her sight on Braer himself and is stunned by what she finds. “Ye—ye’re a dragon!” *beat* I can honestly say I was not expecting that. Braer assures her that he’s an elf, and only sometimes assumes the form of a dragon, and he’s the last surviving reason the magelords hunted so many dragons in and around Athalantar. *beat* Did… did we know they did that? I don’t think we did. And I find it very hard to imagine the magelords we’ve seen so far bringing down a dragon of any notable power (save perhaps Undarl, who at least would have a dragon of his own to help). Elmara realizes the implication that the other elf-dragons were all killed and says she’s sorry, and Braer corrects her that she shouldn’t be – it’s the magelords who should be sorry. Elmara promises Braer that she will avenge his friends soon, but he tells her she’s not ready yet, and a single archmage, no matter how mighty, can’t hope to succeed against all the magelords and their servant creatures, if they whelm against you… and you haven’t even learned to be an archmage yet. But… didn’t the Magister, upon being summoned unexpectedly into a room with multiple magelords, not effortlessly slaughter them all, including their leader? I seem to recall he did. Perhaps the good Braer is misinformed? Or perhaps Greenwood is bad at building tension? Elmara says she’s afraid she’ll die with the magelords still ruling Athalantar, and Braer admits he’s sensed that fear in her and that’s why she needs to go, so she can learn more than he can teach her. But Braer tells her not to go until he’s conjured crying towels for both of them, because elves hate long farewells even more than humans do. And indeed, the two of them tearfully embrace as the scene ends.
Keeri: And so, we cut to sometime later as Elmara leaves the forest and heads for Ladyhouse Falls. She felt suddenly naked, away from the sheltering trees, but fought down the urge to hurry. With this author, just be glad you’re not literally naked. I remember the last chapter! She soon passes a marker and realizes she’s outside of Athalantar; it felt marvelous to set foot outside of the Kingdom of the Stag for the first time in her life. Wait, was the High Forest actually part of Athalantar, or at least the part of it you were in was? Could’ve fooled me! She was wading through waist-deep brush, where the Great Fires had been set ten years agone to drive the elves out of all these lands and take them for men. But men huddled in ever-more-crowded cities and towns along the Delimbiyr, and summer by summer, the forest crept back to reclaim the hills. Soon the elves—more bitter and swifter with their arrows than they’d once been—would return too. Yeah, would’ve been nice to have heard of this before! Seriously, if there’s large-scale persecution of elves to drive them off their lands and claim it for Athalantar, that’s a pretty big deal that should be affecting things! She went on with joy in her step, and did not halt until it grew too dark to go on and the wolves began to howl. “Joy in your step” doesn’t seem like quite the right reaction to “walking thought the site of recent attempted genocide and conquest” to me. Also, maybe you should be worried about those wolves. But if she is, we won’t find out about it, as the scene ends there.
We then cut to later, as Elmara approaches Ladyhouse Falls and is disappointed to find that it’s a few ragged stone cottages and a tumbledown barn, but she can hear the waterfalls nearby and knows this must be the place. And as she approaches the main building, she can see that it’s tightly woven around with magic. And then she nearly walks right into an old woman outside; Elmara apologizes for not seeing her and says she’s here to seek out Mystra’s temple. The old woman asks why, and Elmara explains how she met Mystra herself and knelt to her. The old woman says that everyone says that (really? Seems kind of a dangerous thing to claim if you can’t back it up, gods being gods and all) and asks what life has taught Elmara so far. “I’ve learned how to hate, steal, grieve, and kill,” she said. “I hope there’s more to being a priestess of Mystra than that.” The old woman says that for many, not much more – what a wonderful religion this sounds like – but she’s willing to see if Elmara can do better. Elmara offers to help the woman with her garden, but she says she doesn’t need her help, since she doesn’t need someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing messing things up and tells her to get ye gone. Elmara’s taken aback by this, and the woman explains further: “Go and walk the world, lass; Mystra doesn’t gather toothless, chanting men or maids to kneel to stones carved in her seeming. All Faerûn around us is Mystra’s true temple.” So, isn’t this woman – this priestess, I’m assuming – just telling Elmara what Braer already told her in more words? And telling her to do what she was about to start doing? What was the point of sending her here, anyway? Just for a second opinion? “Go and do as I bid, thus; and listen well, lass. Learn from mages, without yourself taking the title or spellhurling habits of a wizard. Spread word of the power of magic, its mysteries and lore; make folk you meet hunger to work magic themselves, and give those who seem most eager a taste of spellcasting, for no more payment than food and a place to sleep. Make maids and men into mages.” Huh; sounds less like you want a priestess or a mage and more like you want a bard. I’d offer my services, but Mystra’s not really impressed me that much so far, so I’ll hold back. “Be guided by your own heart—but know that Mystra forbids nothing. Go and experience everything that can befall a man and a maid in Faerûn. Everything.” I don’t know… some of the things a “man or maid” can experience are things you don’t want to experience. I’ve been buried alive (by a demon lord, no less); I don’t think you want that experience. And if Mystra forbids nothing, no wonder you’ve got a problem with evil mages running around, knocking over kingdoms! Having boundaries is good, actually.
Mira: I quite agree. In Hollowfaust, we take our laws and the rules of our guilds very seriously – because we’ve seen what happens when our arts are misused. But the priestess tells Elmara to Sit down and eat first, fool-head. Bitterness lends the weak-witted wings … always try to make a stop to eat into a time to think, and you’ll think more in a season than most think in all their days. I don’t know about that… my friends often had to remind me to eat, when I was an apprentice, usually because I got too lost in thought... she then conjures a plate of food, and Elmara recoils at first, explaining that she has seen magic used to kill and destroy and is therefore wary of it. I thought you had learned to love magic, under Braer’s tutelage? Or is Greenwood just being inconsistent again? She explains how Mystra called her personally, and the priestess tells her to consider herself fortunate, since many mages dream of meeting the goddess and most see her only once, if that. Elmara admits to the priestess that she’ll need strong magic to do what she has to do, and the priestess tells her she’ll need to eat first, and to think about what she said. She reminds Elmara that Mystra forbids nothing, and to think of everything (I at least can think of several ways that might end poorly…) and the scene ends there.
We then cut to later, as the priestess watches Elmara leave, and then returns to the temple and begins to transform until a tall and shapely lady in shimmering, iridescent robes strolled to the temple door. She turned once more to look where Elmara had gone. Her eyes were dark and yet golden, and little flames danced in them. *she sighs* And of course, she was secretly beautiful. And, we soon learn, not a priestess at all but Mystra herself as another voice asks if she’s seen enough. She says that Elmara might be “The one” but doesn’t explain the one what… and then the temple itself transforms into a bronze dragon, and if I wasn’t sitting down already, I think I’d need to. The dragon reminds Mystra that she’s thought this before about other people, and Mystra acknowledges it before thanking the dragon, which then transforms into the human form of the same old priestess Mystra had been impersonating. So, was the dragon the true priestess all along? I think? Except Mystra was herself playing the part for Elmara, and… ah. I thought the gods at home were confusing! The priestess-dragon then turns and walks back into the real temple, while Mystra herself vanishes in a flurry of lights, and the scene ends.
Keeri: And so, we find ourselves with Elmara on the road. Apparently, Braer only gave her a sack with twenty gold pieces before she left – I hope that’s because that’s all he could spare, and not because he did it on purpose, considering – so she can’t sleep at an inn every night and often has to sleep outside, but she does have enough money to at least get hot meals and can use magic to scare off any locals who are feeling… bothersome. One evening, she finds herself in an inn somewhere in the Mlembryn Lands, wherever that is, paying for her supper by telling tales of magic for the other patrons *she sighs wistfully* ah, that brings back memories. Right now, she’s in the middle of a story. …and the last the king and all his court saw of the nine Royal Wizards, they were standing on thin air, facing each other in a circle, and rising! …Lightnings danced ever faster between their hands, weaving a web so bright that it hurt the eyes to look upon it – but the last thing the king saw, ere they rose out of sight, was a dragon appearing in the midst of those lightnings, fading in, he said… Well, okay, that’s pretty impressive, but I still can’t ignore the fact that we’ve joined all these people in the middle of the story. Who’s the king? What’s the kingdom? Who are the royal wizards and what are they doing? Why’s the dragon there? I have no idea! It all sounds impressive, but I’m not sure it actually means anything…
MG: Yeah, I can’t help but think that this section could have been used to establish some actual lore and history of the setting, but what we do get is so vague it barely seems relevant to anything, and I’m not sure if this is something that actually happened or just something Elmara has heard of secondhand, or even just made up. It’s a pity; in-universe myth and folklore is a great vector for worldbuilding, used properly, but while Greenwood is obviously good at creating lore, if all the books of his I’ve read are any indication, he’s quite bad at actually integrating it with his fiction (seriously, if I hadn’t know he was the original creator of Faerun before I ever read anything by him, I don’t think I’d have ever guessed it just from his novels).
Keeri: Tell me about it. Well, Elmara is suddenly interrupted as armed guards and a splendidly dressed, curl-bearded man barge in, the leader addressing her as outlander! Elmara asks who he is, and he says it’s Lord to you! I am Lord Mage Dunsteen, and I bid you take heed, wench! Charming man, clearly. The matters you so idly speak of are not fancies, but sorcery… magic interests everyone with power – but it is, and rightly, an art of secrets – secrets to be learned only by those fit to know them. If you are wise, you will cease your talk of sorcery at once. What secrets? From what we saw of the story, Elmara’s descriptions were vague, describing what the wizards were doing but not how! I know a bit of magic myself, and there wasn’t anything in there that I could replicate even if I tried. Or is this “Lord Mage” (not to be confused with a magelord, I presume) just a paranoid bully? Considering the quality of Greenwood’s usual antagonists, I’m going to guess the latter. Elmara says she was instructed to speak of magic by a priestess of Mystra, and was sent out into Faerun at Mystra’s bidding, but Dunsteen doesn’t believe it, and when Elmara says Mystra spoke to her, he decides she’s mad. Faerun is home to many mad folk, some so lost in their wits, I’ve heard, that they can delude even themselves. *rolling her eyes* So, you’re saying that a delusional person… is deluded. Thank you for that stirring insight, O Great Lord Mage. I’d be lost without you! Well, Elmara says she can tell Dunsteen at least thinks that he’s an important man, and that if he’s really as great a mage as he claims, he should know spells to tell when someone is speaking truth. Yeah, and spells like that can be tricked – gods know we have enough trouble with cultists and traitors where I come from to prove that. Dunsteen just snaps that he won’t waste spells on a madwoman, and Elmara resumes her story while he glares at her for a bit before stalking to a private booth and taking a seat, and the scene ends there.
Mira: And so, we find later that evening, Elmara is making her way under the moonlight to the hollow where she intends to sleep, wrapping her cloak around herself to keep off the cold. *crossly* You know, in most places where I come from, hospitality is sacred. I can’t say I think much of the local people here, letting someone they at least know is a traveling storyteller sleep outside in the cold! Suddenly, Elmara hears branches snap behind her and realizes she’s being followed; a moment later, recognizing how heavy and clumsy the footfalls are, she decides it must be a certain lord mage. She calls out in greeting to him, and a moment later he blasts the trees with fire, Elmara barely managing to dodge in time. She taunts him, saying that a campfire would have been sufficient, while tossing a rock to make it sound like she’s running away; sure enough, he blasts the wrong direction while shouting Die, dangerous fool! Elmara then blasts him with a spell of her own while he’s distracted, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground, while demanding to know why he’s attacking her. Instead of answering, Dunsteen tries to blast her again, but she manages to cast faster, and catches him in a truth spell (I don’t think that would stop him from attacking? I think those fireballs represented a very sincere and truthful desire to harm her!). Finally, he speaks the truth. I don’t want half the folk in Faerun to work magic! What price my powers then, eh? *she lets out a very uncharacteristic giggle* Oh… I mean, it’s not really funny, but… it kind of is? Are you afraid that a traveling storyteller simply talking about magic can make people into powerful wizards? I come from a city that’s literally built around the practice of necromancy, and everyone knows it, but even so, most people in Hollowfaust aren’t necromancers! Mastering magic takes years of study and practice, more than most people are willing, or have the opportunity, to commit to– simply hearing about wizards doesn’t turn people into them! One would think that making people more in awe of what wizards can do would improve your standing, oh Lord Mage! Then again, you don’t seem to be very bright, so that might explain some things…
Elmara then announces that Dunsteen lives only by her whim – is that not normally a villainous line? – before collecting herself and casting another spell and marching out onto empty air to hover in front of him. I do not wish to slay ye, Lord Mage. Mystra bade me bring more magic into Faerun, not rob the Realms of the lives and skills of wizards. She tells Dunsteen to promise to go home and leave her alone, and she won’t trouble him further either (said in a voice of doom, which I can only imagine as Elmara putting on a very silly booming voice, which I don’t think is what Greenwood intended). Dunsteen starts backing away, but before he goes, Elmara has one last question for him. I was told to learn all I can from the mages I met. Where would you suggest I go to learn more about being a mage? *she sighs* Elmara, dear, haven’t we already proven this man is a braggart and a bully who probably doesn’t know nearly as much as he thinks he does? Why would you think he’d be able to help you, truth spell or no? But Dunsteen has an answer. Go see Ilhundyl, ruler of the Calishar, and ask him that… and you shall have the best answer any living man can give. But because Dunsteen has turned away from her as he said it, Elmara did not see his twisted smile. Oh. Oh dear. That bodes ill, doesn’t it?
MG: Yes. And this is where I have to say Elmara is having an absolute bout of plot-induced stupidity. We know at this point that Dunsteen’s a louse, that he’s paranoid enough to think that someone telling stories about wizards is a threat to his power, and a weak enough mage that someone who’s only been training for approx. two years or so can kick his ass with minimal effort. Even with the truth spell, there’s no reason to trust him (and you can stick with the literal truth and get away with quite a lot, as Elmara, the former thief and bandit, ought to know; and even if he’s being completely forthright, there’s no reason to think his advice is worth anything). She’s also heard of Ilhundyl before (as have we, a couple of times, if you’ll recall). She knows he’s considered far more powerful than any of the magelords, that he’s a tyrant who uses magic to rule his own kingdom (though technically, per the FRWiki the Calishar was an emirate), cruel enough that people apparently fled his rule in droves, nicknamed “the Mad Mage” for his odd obsessions and the single-minded fixation with which he pursues them, and that he’s notorious enough in all of these things that his reputation has spread as far north as Athalantar. The guy’s bad news, in other words, and it doesn’t take much thinking to figure out that even though he is legitimately a great wizard, sending Elmara his way was not Dunsteen doing her any favors. So, what is she about to do? Follow her enemy’s advice and toddle right off to see the Mad Mage to ask him to take her on as his apprentice, of course! And, as anyone with half a brain could predict, it’s going to end badly. You know, I have many, many issues with Elminster as a character (at least as Greenwood writes and uses him) but he’s not usually this dumb.
Keeri: Yeah, and I could pledge myself to Deskari to try and get him to take down Baphomet for me, but I won’t because that’s a phenomenally stupid idea, and that’s about what this sounds like. At least in terms of getting involved with a greater evil to help you learn to defeat a lesser evil, which is just about backwards. And sure enough, we open our next scene with Ilhundyl himself, as he’s just about to receive a guest. Most intruders wandered in the maze, calling helplessly until Ilhundyl tired of their cries and had them brought to an audience chamber, or released the lions to feed. Oh, wow, what a wonderful man – aren’t you just so excited to be learning from him? This young lass, however, strode through the illusory walls and around the portal traps as though she could see them. …and, Elmara’s already good enough to effortlessly navigate an archmage’s security setup. Why am I not surprised? But Ilhundyl keeps watching as Elmara – and yes, we’re in his point of view and he knows her name, and I don’t know why – makes her way out of the maze, across the lawn, and straight towards his invisible door, while avoiding the guardian golems and statues he has lined up beside it. The Mad Mage valued his privacy, and his life… and not many days passed without someone trying to deprive him of either. Thus his Castle of Sorcery was ringed by traps mechanical as well as magical. Ilhundyl then rings a bell, and at that signal a trapdoor opens just below Elmara as she steps through the door, and she falls into it. He then turns to his servant Garadic and tells him to fetch Elmara’s body, but a moment later stops, stunned, as he watches Elmara rise up out of the trap and back onto solid ground. At this, Ilhundyl revises his orders – he wants Elmara brought to him alive, and the scene ends there.
We then cut to Ilhundyl’s audience chamber, as Elmara is explaining to him why she’s come. A priestess of Mystra told me to learn about sorcery from mages… and a mage told me you were the best man alive to tell me what it is to work magic. Ilhundyl asks why she wants to study magic, and Elmara says that she simply wants to serve Mystra as best she can. Ilhundyl then performs a spell that casts the whole room into darkness, save for the two of them, and when he speaks his voice echoed with tones of doom and oh, Great Dreamer, I think Mira’s right, and now Ilhundyl’s doing a silly voice, too! Know then, O Elmara, that you must apprentice yourself to a mage, and once you learn to hurl fire and lightning, slip away without a word to anyone, travel far and join an adventuring band. Then see the Realms, face danger, and use your spells in earnest… When you can battle a lich spell for spell and prevail, seek out Ondil’s Book of Spells and take it to the Altar of Mystra on the island called Mystra’s Dance. Surrender it to the goddess there… once you know you hold Ondil’s tome in your hands, look no longer at its pages, nor seek to learn the spells therein, for this is the sacrifice Mystra demands! Go, now, and do this. Once he finishes speaking, Ilhundyl fades into the darkness himself; Elmara thanks him and then turns to leave the palace, the doors shutting behind her as she goes. Once she’s gone, Ilhundyl drops the act. And once you’ve got me that book, go and get yourself killed, mageling. *fanning herself in mock horror* And so it turns out that the murderous tyrannical wizard… is evil. Whoever could have seen that coming? His servant Garadic comes over to his side, letting his human disguise drop to reveal that he has scales and fangs, and asks what his master means (I think that’s pretty clear, myself…). Ilhundyl explains that I’ve never met anyone with so much latent power before. If she lives, she could grow in power to master the Realms… but she’ll die. So, it sounds like, by following the small-town bully wizard’s advice, instead of a teacher Elmara’s just gone and made herself another enemy! And unlike the magelords, this one actually knows about her and actively wants her dead! Bravo! Garadic asks what will happen if Elmara doesn’t die, and Ilhundyl tells him that You will see to it that she does, and the chapter ends there.
MG: And, okay, quite aside from Elmara’s sudden bout of idiocy in thinking that Ilhundyl – a man she already has reason to think of as being worse than the magelords she’s trying to bring down – is going to be of any help to her at all, I have some issues with this scene. First off, as far as I know, Ilhundyl himself has never been officially statted, but he’s supposed to be far stronger than any of the magelords, he’s repeatedly described as an archmage, and is supposed to legitimately be one of the greatest wizards of his age (based on some of the later dialogue, he may be number two, behind only the Magister – though that’s not counting some of the really old and powerful ones like Larloch, Ioulaum or Halaster who are already around at this point, but mostly uninterested in the world at large and not relevant to this particular story). And Elmara’s already powerful enough to casually walk through his defenses and impress him with her potential. We’ve officially reached the start of Elminster being OP (having apparently gained that status during the timeskip) and it’s going to get worse from here. For another, I have no idea how he sensed Elmara’s “latent potential,” unless he had some sort of divination spell going that he never told us about. After all, wizardry is a learned skill, not an inborn power (again, Elminster’s not a sorcerer and never has been). I’m reminded of the prologue of Elaine Cunningham’s Daughter of the Drow, and how Liriel (the titular character) is determined by her father Gromph (a drow archmage) to be a remarkable magical prodigy – he actually tests her by having her cast some basic spells which are well above what a child her age should be able to manage (Liriel being the drow equivalent of a toddler at the time) and that tells him how gifted she is, he doesn’t just know it. But, regardless, we’re now done with the chapter, and Part III. Next time we begin Part IV: Magus – and find that Elmara has, inexplicably, taken Ilhundyl’s advice at face value and joined a band of obvious murderhobos. Yay. But the good news is, with this chapter out of the way, we’re now officially halfway through the book! We’ll see you then.
