The Bluestride Lectures

Well, I had to leave some kind of legacy besides that kid Khaelvan, didn't I? Anyway, they also serve as a more personal look at the magic of Sorren.

The following pages hold the lectures of the Archmagus of Xeua Xarl Bluestride to the Classes of 621-618 B.S. They are assembled in roughly chronological order, with some allowances made for the sake of relevance. These treatises (sp?) center around the personal experiences of magic, and as such have also been placed in abridged and edited book form under the title: Wizardry: The Aura, The Will, and You. (not required reading, but almost every Initiate reads it just the same.)

Lecture One
Initiation Day, 621 b.S.
Welcome. To start, let me set your fears to rest. I am not here to sacrifice any of you to some pagan god, nor am I here to enact some blasphemous ritual. I hold no malice toward any of you, despite the fact that each of you probably holds some resentment over your lack of ability to help our present cause. On the contrary, I am here to congratulate you. Though these fears are present in all your hearts, you came anyway, because of the magic inside you. Or because you were paid a great deal to spy on the proceedings and make sure the fears of others were allayed... but considering we raised the Initiation fees by approximately half for you, I suppose we're even.
We. You'll notice that I used that word for the first time, describing a decision to punish those here who were too frightened to obey the yearning in their very blood to be able to come here. And what were they frightened of?
Us.
The Wizards, the Magi, the Sorcerors... all these words to describe our ancient brotherhood, each of them uttered with just a droplet of fear, just a droplet of hate. But without knowledge to counter them, those droplets in time form a rushing river of unreasoning paranoia and hatred, cutting us off from the outside world as surely as the waters cover the floodplains.
You are here because you were willing to brave that river of prejudice, that mountain of hate, those fires of anger, and those winds of fear. You are here, because of a song that starts in your soul, tunes in your bones, and is sung by the very fabric of your being. The song of powers strange and wonderous, great and terrible. The song of magic.
All of you can feel it now, can't you? I've certainly been speaking long enough... there's that twitch in your fingers, the part of your soul that for some inexplicable reason needs to break free of its prison; that is your Fire. There's the calm stupor, where you can't explain why you're three times as alert as ever; that is your Water. There's the part of you that is soaring aloft on the wings of your mind; your Wind. And last, there's still the part of you that sits in those chairs, and somehow knows what they are, how much they weigh, just because of simple contact; your Earth.
These four, woven together on the tapestry of creation, form your greater being, your outer and inner self. Your Aura, however clumsy the word may be. I much prefer the term of the Archmagi Arquim and Ximan, and am proud to be the first to teach it to the first class in a century; Cár'áll. "That which is Beyond Life," or so it goes in Styrash. This is in truth what seperates us from our fellow beings. Their Cár'álls are merely acted upon by outside forces, with only the tiniest changes made over time by sheer force of their own will. They can create or destroy their connections to other Cár'álls, but only those to which they have devoted great amounts of time.
We are different.
By sheer force of will, we can use the forces of our Cár'álls to act upon others. To change them, to move them, even with great effort to call them into being, or cease change. Yes, we wield great powers. But with them come great weaknessess.
There are many, over the long ages, who have tried to school themselves in the art of magic, letting instinct and their own senses be their guides. Some became powerful beyond their wildest dreams. More were destroyed by the very powers they had sought to wield. And still others, working too hard and too fast, brought their minds to and beyond the point of insanity, pulled by the twin reins of their ego and their greed.
This school was founded to bring order to the chaos that was magic. You have all seen the fountainhead of magic that is the center of this school. You have heard of the devastation that the Founders saw when they first came here. Then as now, there was a barren landscape, with the cause of death and destruction shining beautifully at its heart. Then as now, there was a call for bravery, and for strength of will. Then as now, it was answered.
Now, I ask you.
Do you have the courage to forge order from chaos? To put your body, your mind, even your very soul on the line for the betterment of future generations? To risk everything you know and love for a cause that will see you worshipped and feared, revered and hated?
I forgot. You already answered that question.
You came here.
Welcome to the Magical City. I hope you enjoy all your years here.
The response to this speech is somewhat legendary... according to said, the cheers went on for a full five minutes. More likely, the crowd was encouraged by the rather formidable number of wizards who had already entered the school and had been working on its rebuilding.
Scribbled into the margin at this point is something in similarly legendarily incoherent handwriting. A person with the right kind of eye problems might peice together the following eight words as such.
Still, it's a decent speech, wouldn't you say?

Xarl Bluestride, Archmage of the White Tower, Master of the Magic Forum, Teacher of RP Sorcery and generally cool guy. All requests are to be written on the back of a ten-dollar bill (or equivelant thereof) placed on a dead ferret, and tossed in the sewer system.
Xarl Bluestride
Owner of the longest pure text sig in Santharia
If you can't stand the heat, get out of the potato.
For the non-ferreted... - Master of All Things Magical
The Santharian Dream - Where fantasy dreams come true... particularly mine!

Stormcrow