Profiles in Magic, Volume Twelve
Erzebet Crowther : With Every Dusky Moonbeam
PREFACE:
Heritage Monographs, the official press of the Moonmage Guild, is
proud to present the twelfth volume in the ongoing Profiles in
Magic series. The information within has been painstakingly
researched through both personal interviews and magical scrying,
compiled by a dedicated staff of scholars and Guild
representatives.
While most of the Profiles to date have centered around the lives
of mages long dead, we are honored to now present the biography
of a truly monumental and still living figure, one who has
changed the face of the Moonmage Guild through history. We give
you Erzebet Crowther, Stateswoman, patron of the High Council,
and magical pioneer.
"With every dusky moonbeam and with e'ry revolution, Magic is
our signpost, our method Evolution."
It is with these words that Erzebet Crowther took her oath of
initiation into the Moonmage High Council, the same words that
her great-great-great-grandmother Alicia Crowther had spoken when
signing the Lunar Accord and helping to form the same guild, over
a century ago. It was the pinnacle of a long, notable and
sometimes arduous career in the magical arts, a career which
began with great expectations indeed.
Erzebet had been born over seventy years prior, in the Illithi
mansion of her mother, Jacqueline Crowther. A councilwoman
herself, Jacqueline and her husband Roberto were proud to carry
on the long and distinguished lineage of the Crowther family.
Carrying the family name down maternal lines, every generation of
the family gave birth to a single daughter; and, without fail,
those daughters were raised to become superior magicians and
scholars without peer.
The Moonmage ruling council has only once been without a Crowther
daughter in its ranks, that one time being the catastrophic and
humiliating Timbleton Incident that nearly destroyed the
fledgling guild-- during which, Erzebet will not hesitate to
point out, Ona Crowther was the only accused conspirator to be
acquitted of all charges.
Despite the social handicap of being a human in the Elothean-
centered world of Shard academia, the privilege of her birth
overcame most early hurdles until she was able to shine on her
own. A quick study, Erzebet was provided with a classical
education many only dream of: following an early session at the
Imperial Academy (which survived long after the fall of the
nation that built it) and graduating with top honors, she
entered the Moonmage Guild as a journeywoman, apprenticed directly to her own
mother.
It was then that Erzebet came into her own, quickly surpassing
all of the other mages at her local guild house; her early
researches perfected the now-classic Shadows spell, which had
been oft-maligned by earlier scholars due to its tendency to
swallow the caster and propel them into another dimension. Her
fascination with the interplay of shadow and light, a signature
trait, led to the creation of many high-end spells such as the
hallmark Shadow Servant dweomer. Despite receiving universal
acclaim for her works, however, the young magess encountered
resistance from unexpected corners.
Cornoran the Mauve, a skilled scholar in his own right and
pioneer of many now-lost battle magic's, had his eye upon a
council seat for himself. Knowing that Erzebet's mother was due
to retire in short order, and that she would undoubtedly be asked
to take her place, he set out to discredit her and set himself in
position to seize the chair. He began by spreading a campaign of
whispers across the Moonmage elite, calling into question the
magess' loyalty. She was a Tezirite, was she not? And were not
all the followers of that cult given to sinister, dark rituals
and things best left unknown?
We should not be surprised that the accusation fell upon deaf
ears. The Crowther family's connection to-- and some rumor,
leadership of-- the Progeny of Tezirah was never a secret. Their
leadership abilities and loyalty to the guild were also not in
question, having been proven time and again throughout the
decades. Moreover, the educated of the guild were aware that the
Progeny itself had suffered a schism not long into their own
history, when a cabal of Celestial Compact mages using fledgling,
experimental magic's battled the mad sorcerer Kalestraum and his
minions to the death. The survivors of Kalestraum's 'family'
went underground, forming a splinter sect of the Progeny that
reveled in obscene and blasphemous rites; the Crowthers
represented the 'mainline' of the cult, certainly dark but
nonetheless sociable and accountable to their surroundings. As
long as they kept their less-acceptable activities in the
shadows, the Guild had no problem with them.
So, Cornoran stepped up his attack: during the repulsion of an
invasion at the gates of Shard, he claimed to have witnessed
Erzebet employing banned and repulsive magic's of pre-Empire
sorcery upon the invaders, bones snapping like twigs and bodies
imploding at a glare. He hired three militiamen (refugees from
the local thieves' guild, as was later revealed) to swear that
they, too, had seen this. While most of the guild elders urged
Erzebet to ignore the slur, and write it off as the ranting of a
brash youth, she instead issued an unusual missive to her accuser:
"It appears that you have mastered the art of time travel, dear
sir, for your accusation dates from the days of the Empire, when
magicians were hounded and butchered for not practicing
'acceptable' spells and for reading the 'wrong' tomes. No law
against sorcery remains on the books, which is just as well, for
no spell of sorcery remains in the grimoires of any living mage.
Would that I could harness those powers, but they are lost even
to me.
"But, you have made a formal charge, and as an honest and
respectable citizen of Illithi Province I must rise to answer it.
Because you accuse me of violating an Imperial crime, let the
justice and the trial be that which the Empire practiced; I will
submit to such judgment, so certain am I of my innocence."
Cornoran the Mauve could not believe his luck! Under late
Imperial law, the punishment for sorcery was death by burning--
until eradication. With his 'eyewitnesses' for support, he could
not only humiliate the Crowther family and secure his place upon
the council, his rival would be permanently removed. Recklessly,
he wrote a reply of acceptance, and a date was set.
Held in the atrium of the Great Tower of Shard, Erzebet's trial
was attended by the guild's luminaries and powerbrokers, curious
and impressed with the young magess' courage. Under the
supervision of three neutral councilmen to insure no trickery was
involved, Erzebet wove the spell she had been researching for
five years, and never thought she would have occasion to use upon
herself: the magic of the Shadow Court.
The atrium was transformed into a dusky chamber before the
attendees' very eyes, a spectral magistrate in rotting robes
surmounting an ancient podium, his gavel of bone ringing the
court to order. The jury box was filled by five cadavers, their
eyes glowing pinpoints of green light. "I have summoned the
spirits of past justices," Erzebet pronounced, "The essence, if
you will, of Imperial law. It is before them that I will be
judged, for they do not falter or hesitate."
"That will be fine," Cornoran snapped, "For even the dead know a
witch when they scent one."
The court brought to order, living and dead alike sitting in
tense silence, Cornoran brought his witnesses. Each one--
drilled to perfection-- recited his story to the tiniest detail.
It appeared that Erzebet had already lost-- one person's word
against four was no case at all.
"Your honor," she said, "I would like to introduce evidence
gained by magical means, if the court wills it. I will use an
instrument of divination to ascertain the truth of these stories,
one which you will be able to verify as untampered and true."
"I object!" Cornoran cried, "I know of your foul 'mirrors' of
sorcery-- they were outlawed as such under the Empire! And you
think you'll be allowed to use such a device here?"
"Not at all," Erzebet answered, producing a tiny red-lacquered
box from her cloak. "This is the Sunweed Box, a relic of the
Empire. It was devised, truth be told, by the Guild of War Mages
long before our own guild existed. It was employed for
interrogations on the battlefield-- you see, one party places his
right hand upon the box, and answers the questions put to him. If
he lies, the magic of the artifact senses it... And slays the
liar, without hesitation."
A gasp rippled through the room as she handed the box to the
spectral judge. "Do you affirm that the magic in this device is
untampered-with, and that the box is perfectly safe to those who
speak the truth?"
"It is, and it is," a sonorous voice echoed, "It is
allowed."
Walking to the table of witnesses, Erzebet stopped, gave each a
long, slow glance, and finally pointed at the last man on the
row. "You," she said, "I choose to question you. Place your
hand upon the box, and repeat your story."
The guardsman stammered and began to sweat, vigorously shaking
his head. "I can't," he said, "I mean, you can't make me do
that!"
"What do you fear?" Erzebet said, "The judge verified that it is
safe... If you tell the truth. If you refuse, it may be taken
as a sign of your guilt, and that would be a dangerous thing."
"I... I..." the guardsman looked at her, at Cornoran, and at
the assembled court, finally crying out, "It's a lie! This man,
this mage, he paid us to tell the story! We weren't even AT the
battle!"
The other guardsmen chimed in with their confessions, and the
court's uproar was silenced by the banging of the bone-gavel.
Erzebet chuckled, took a step back, and held up the box.
"Gentlemen," she said, "I'm afraid you've been the victims of a
slight hoax. Cornoran, if you'd been half the scholar you claim
to be, you would know that the device I refer to was called the
SANHEED box, not 'sunweed', after the mage who built it. And
that no working devices have ever been found."
"Then," Cornoran stammered, "That box--"
Smiling, Erzebet opened it, the scent of rich pipe-tobacco
filling the air. "This box is for sunweed. A good blend, too,
very rich. It holds no magic at all, which is why the judge said
the 'magic' had not been tampered with-- and as such, of course,
it can do no harm at all to those who speak the truth, or
otherwise.
"But now, I fear, you've also run afoul of a point of Imperial
law, one which you neglected to study in your zealous glee.
Should an accuser be convicted of purgery, he himself suffers the
fate that would have afflicted his victim."
Cornoran barely had time to scream before the flames roared up
, he and the three militiamen blanketed in blazing flames. Some of
the elder mages moved forward, prepared to disrupt the spell, but
the Moonmage Grandmaster raised his hand to stop them. "If
Erzebet had lost," he said, "She would have suffered this fate,
and none would have interfered. It would be a mockery to save
her persecutors."
And so, drained of the gods' favor, the Mauve Mage and his
henchmen were annihilated by their own foolishness. It is rumored
that Erzebet filled her pipe with sunweed and lit it from the
very bonfires that consumed her enemy, but this may be an
apocryphal tale-- when asked about it, the great mage simply
smiles and turns away. What is known, is that the incident
placed her in the high esteem of many moonmages who had been
reluctant to sponsor her beforehand, and virtually assured her
posting to the high council-- a post which she was offered, and
accepted, just three months later.
Erzebet still serves on the council at the time of this writing,
personally supervising the direction of Moonmage guildhouses in
the eastern provinces and seeing to the education and training of
her own young daughter, Annisean. An aged and wise veteran of
the Moonmage Guild, creator of legendary spells and artifacts and
shaper of history, Erzebet will doubtless be immortalized as one
of the great spellworkers of our time.