Cooper Holt
Insider
This will be a very open thread and hopefully a go-to one, as well.
One of the things I made this thread for was to ask a question (that I hope hasn't already been answered).
Is the only way to advance in thaumatugy to be near a dying thaumaturge/mage?
The reason why I ask is because, if this is, in fact, the only way to advance in thaumaturgy, I have a serious problem.
However, I wouldn't object to this giving you power, as long as it's not the only way to obtain it. I would like to use trial and error (focusing and trying again and again on a dummy/tree/imp/sack-of-flour/etc.) to advance as well.
If I've tried to resurrect a dead chicken many times and finally have it perfect, I should be able to then resurrect weak beings of that size and power during combat.
Scenario:
Brace yourself, this is long...
You are at your shack. It is about 7:20 in the morning. You have gone outside. You are admiring the beautiful, red sunset. You look to the poultry-pen when suddenly - you find that one of your chickens was gored by a hungry chicken-hawk.
That lousy, savage chicken-hawk has been giving you trouble since you set up camp a month ago. You decide it's finally time to fight back. Chicken-hawks are easy to kill, but they're also quite fast.
You get to thinking. You remember that your father once revived a rabbit through thaumaturgy of the mind. Oh, how magnificent it was.
You were there when he died. A sad thought.
You go inside and dig through your belongings until you find your father's notebook. He was a traveler, and he kept most of his thoughts in this book.
You blow off the dust, and flip through the pages until you find the day he was at home, bringing a dead rabbit back to life. He went through a very lengthy process of what he did, what he thought, and what happened afterward.
You walk back outside, only to find that that dang chicken-hawk has been at it again! That's two times today. This means war. You lay out the two gored chickens on a stump, and tie a nail to each of their beaks. You apply tar to keep the nails on straight. They have nearly been hollowed out, so you wrap their torsos with some leather strips and stitch them up with a needle and thread.
You follow the steps and thought processes that your father had written down, constantly cheering yourself on. "You can do this. Revive some battle-chickens. After all, dad did it. How hard can it be?"
After a while, you began to get the hang of it. Hands upright, hold your ground, look directly at the chicken, imagine the chickens re-animating, and focus...
*sigh*, nothing.
It's all about trial and error. You know the steps. You have the mind set, you just need to truly focus. You go through the steps again, feeling yourself gaining power. You cheer yourself on in your head. Something's happening, but it doesn't deter you from your current state. The power is immense, you are almost shaking...
Bagawk! *pleh*, *wheeze*, reeahh... ge-gegawk! Bok, bok, bagawk!
It's.. alive? It's ALIVE! Yes, you've done it! It looks like a disgusting, bloody pin-cushion, but you've done it! It's alive, standing next to its dead brother. It slides down off of the stump. It waddles and shuffles shakily, but at least it can move.
Now for the other one. You go through the steps, still grinning wildly from your initial success. You can't help yourself from giggling like a little girl. This was probably the most impressing thing you've done in a while. You breathe deeply. All has been temporarily locked away. You've done it before, just do it one more time. Stand in a strong position. Hands upright, feet firmly planted upon the hard ground. You feel it happening again. A very interesting feeling. You see a glint of colour in the are in front of you... then, nothing...
Then BOOM! So much mental energy, it feels like the most amazing epiphany you've ever experienced. Power. It's ALIVE!
This one is less shaky. It runs down. You know what they say, you never realize just how fast a chicken is until you resurrect one.
Time to deal with that little bugger. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
They appear eager (and perhaps a bit tired). They want to defend you, but that is not their purpose. They must kill their killer. Time for business.
You remember that you father had mentioned getting the rabbit to run in circles. It was pretty much the same process, just a bit simpler. Focus, look directly at them for maximum telepathy, and think what you want them to do. "Go kill the chicken-hawk in the field. he killed you, now go kill him." They probably understood part of that, so they waddled off in to the field. They started running. Suddenly, a chicken-hawk flew up from the field and took refuge in a nearby tree. You realized this was going to be harder than you had initially thought.
Every night for the next while, you waited for the chicken-hawk to come to the pen. You always got just enough sleep to keep you alert during the day. You had to make new battle-chicken zombies every while, but you always had enough. One night, he came. A lot of failures had led up to this. You went through everything. The chicken-hawk hadn't gotten any morer smarterer, but you had.
After everything, you finally killed that chicken-hawk. And boy, did he ever look good in your oven.
There. The significance of the above scenario (novel) is simply that he needed little to no previous thaumaturgic power in order to achieve a small feat of thaumaturgy such as creating and reviving some chickensteins.
I will admit that I went a little (way) overboard with this, but I just got into it. Meh, no harm done.
One of the things I made this thread for was to ask a question (that I hope hasn't already been answered).
Is the only way to advance in thaumatugy to be near a dying thaumaturge/mage?
The reason why I ask is because, if this is, in fact, the only way to advance in thaumaturgy, I have a serious problem.
However, I wouldn't object to this giving you power, as long as it's not the only way to obtain it. I would like to use trial and error (focusing and trying again and again on a dummy/tree/imp/sack-of-flour/etc.) to advance as well.
If I've tried to resurrect a dead chicken many times and finally have it perfect, I should be able to then resurrect weak beings of that size and power during combat.
Scenario:
Brace yourself, this is long...
You are at your shack. It is about 7:20 in the morning. You have gone outside. You are admiring the beautiful, red sunset. You look to the poultry-pen when suddenly - you find that one of your chickens was gored by a hungry chicken-hawk.
That lousy, savage chicken-hawk has been giving you trouble since you set up camp a month ago. You decide it's finally time to fight back. Chicken-hawks are easy to kill, but they're also quite fast.
You get to thinking. You remember that your father once revived a rabbit through thaumaturgy of the mind. Oh, how magnificent it was.
You were there when he died. A sad thought.
You go inside and dig through your belongings until you find your father's notebook. He was a traveler, and he kept most of his thoughts in this book.
You blow off the dust, and flip through the pages until you find the day he was at home, bringing a dead rabbit back to life. He went through a very lengthy process of what he did, what he thought, and what happened afterward.
You walk back outside, only to find that that dang chicken-hawk has been at it again! That's two times today. This means war. You lay out the two gored chickens on a stump, and tie a nail to each of their beaks. You apply tar to keep the nails on straight. They have nearly been hollowed out, so you wrap their torsos with some leather strips and stitch them up with a needle and thread.
You follow the steps and thought processes that your father had written down, constantly cheering yourself on. "You can do this. Revive some battle-chickens. After all, dad did it. How hard can it be?"
After a while, you began to get the hang of it. Hands upright, hold your ground, look directly at the chicken, imagine the chickens re-animating, and focus...
*sigh*, nothing.
It's all about trial and error. You know the steps. You have the mind set, you just need to truly focus. You go through the steps again, feeling yourself gaining power. You cheer yourself on in your head. Something's happening, but it doesn't deter you from your current state. The power is immense, you are almost shaking...
Bagawk! *pleh*, *wheeze*, reeahh... ge-gegawk! Bok, bok, bagawk!
It's.. alive? It's ALIVE! Yes, you've done it! It looks like a disgusting, bloody pin-cushion, but you've done it! It's alive, standing next to its dead brother. It slides down off of the stump. It waddles and shuffles shakily, but at least it can move.
Now for the other one. You go through the steps, still grinning wildly from your initial success. You can't help yourself from giggling like a little girl. This was probably the most impressing thing you've done in a while. You breathe deeply. All has been temporarily locked away. You've done it before, just do it one more time. Stand in a strong position. Hands upright, feet firmly planted upon the hard ground. You feel it happening again. A very interesting feeling. You see a glint of colour in the are in front of you... then, nothing...
Then BOOM! So much mental energy, it feels like the most amazing epiphany you've ever experienced. Power. It's ALIVE!
This one is less shaky. It runs down. You know what they say, you never realize just how fast a chicken is until you resurrect one.
Time to deal with that little bugger. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
They appear eager (and perhaps a bit tired). They want to defend you, but that is not their purpose. They must kill their killer. Time for business.
You remember that you father had mentioned getting the rabbit to run in circles. It was pretty much the same process, just a bit simpler. Focus, look directly at them for maximum telepathy, and think what you want them to do. "Go kill the chicken-hawk in the field. he killed you, now go kill him." They probably understood part of that, so they waddled off in to the field. They started running. Suddenly, a chicken-hawk flew up from the field and took refuge in a nearby tree. You realized this was going to be harder than you had initially thought.
Every night for the next while, you waited for the chicken-hawk to come to the pen. You always got just enough sleep to keep you alert during the day. You had to make new battle-chicken zombies every while, but you always had enough. One night, he came. A lot of failures had led up to this. You went through everything. The chicken-hawk hadn't gotten any morer smarterer, but you had.
After everything, you finally killed that chicken-hawk. And boy, did he ever look good in your oven.
There. The significance of the above scenario (novel) is simply that he needed little to no previous thaumaturgic power in order to achieve a small feat of thaumaturgy such as creating and reviving some chickensteins.
I will admit that I went a little (way) overboard with this, but I just got into it. Meh, no harm done.