Spellcasters are a rare breed amongst adventurers, as most of them are risk-averse as one can be. As the learning of their craft is both extremely tedious and riddled by the possibility of finding themselves experiencing sudden exotic deaths, they tend to stay in their circles or their towers to further their understanding of the forces that rule us all, Mana.
Adventuring mages, healers and wizards are more often than not Mentor's rejects, only knowing a few spells, experimenting their latest discoveries, or simply originals seeking thrills or funding.
They are as prone as anyone to resort to crime for the exact same reasons, and if it is a rare sight, the magically inclined can end up as bandits, often assuming the role of their strategists or chieftains.
Even if One cannot judge a book by its cover, you certainly can identify a spellcaster and their specialties by their gear.
The typical garb of includes:
* Robes: While robes are essentially a symbol for many scholarly pursuits and religious offices like priests or druids, spellcasters tend to wear them to give themselves an affectation of wisdom and power they -seldom- possess in the case of bandits. Robes are also favored for their increased surface-area to infuse mana and inscribe enchantments within.
Note: Again, can be just a symbol of office or a uniform. In doubt, always shows a minimum of respect.
* Wizard's/Witch hat: Curved and pointy, shielding their eyes from the sun, this is a very distinctive feature Spellcasters traditionally wear, which is slowly getting out of fashion, as it designs them as priority targets to take down. Wearing one shows either confidence in their powers or their lack of experience.*
* Staff or Wand: strapped to the back or at the belt, proudly announcing to everyone around their wearer's ability with the arcane.
Note: A staff can be used in melee (ex: Quarterstaff) or as a walking aid. A wand can just be indicative of wealth and education in mana arts**. Taken alone, a wand or staff isn't an indication of profession.
* Courier bag / Waist bag: Usually adorned with an arcane symbol and often bursting at the seams, it contains all the tools they need to cast their spells, study magic, store potions and compounds. Can also contain their Spellbook.
* Spellbook: Either tucked away in their bag casting a rectangular shape or hanging on their belt by their spine, it is always equipped with a fastener of some kind. A spellbook is the sum of one magical study, and is of variable size and thickness.
It is said the thicker the spellbook is, the more accomplished*** of a mage one is.
Usually contain all the spells a caster has learned, or created on their own. Do not mistake with a grimoire****.Note: Some tradition of spellcasters doesn't use spellbooks. Ex: Druids, Shamans and spellslingers learn their spells orally and memorize them via other methods. Others like Saints or Atavists instinctively use their spells.
* Jewelry: Everyone appreciates the occasional enchanted ring or amulet, and most adventurers eventually manage to get a couple of said magic items, offering some protection, enhancement of some sorts, and, via the magic cores or crystals embedded inside, may contain a reserve of magic.
Spellcasters tend to be able to wear a large amount of magical accessories and items thanks to their mana conditioning, where a regular adventurer would only be holding a couple of them at most, a spellcaster can handle up to a dozen or so without risks.
* Usually both.
** Please refer to the chapter Generalization - How to identify - Nobles/Bourgeois/Spellslingers
*** A trend sees spellbooks being artificially expanded with blank pages to take advantage of that exact sentence in the 2nd edition handbook. Outside adventuring, it is analogous to a lady using padding in their corsets. Something one does to look good, but a shame to be caught with.
**** More on grimoires in Hazardous Items - Magical artifacts - Grimoires.
The Adventurer's Handbook - Generalization - How to identify - SpellcastersAdventurer's guild - 3rd Edition
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“Fireball, Fireball, Fireball …!” The crowd of adventurers chanted.
Alaster felt a little dizzy. He’s been shooting fireballs for a while now, the sun had moved significantly in the sky and the shadows stretched further on the ground. How many of them did he launch already? He did not know, he lost count. Feverish and mumbling to himself, his muzzle was close to his wax tablet, his warm breath laying condensation on it as his stylus dug into it furiously.
He subconsciously restricted his warming spell to his chest down, his head left unprotected in the late winter’s cold. Scribbling up a storm, he was consigning what he learnt this afternoon, so he wouldn’t forget and refine it further later into his Spellbook.
“Fireball, Fireball, Fireball …!”
He had a nerdy giggle. Somehow, all that practice paid off significantly more so than when he was home, his muzzle down his books. He had managed to condense the incantation a good bit, shortening the cast time by reducing the incantation to four words. This excited him, he couldn’t wait to see what the next attempt would teach him.
“Fireball, Fireball, Fireball …!”
Closing the tablet and tucking it safely in his bag, he walked to the dirt line, the adventurers cheering the “little guy’s” enthusiastic use of pyrotechnics.
“Fireball, Fireball, Fireball …!” They cheered. The spellcasters in the crowd were whispering to one another, eyeing the teenage reptile that no doubt was setting some kind of record. but Alaster couldn’t see their awed and concerned faces, nor ear what they were saying, too focused on the task at hand and, not that he realized, too “drunk” on mana to realize he’s been pushing himself further than he ever did, almost to the limit.
Taking in a sharp breath, Alaster mumbled the words of power to himself as he drew the mana accordingly, a claw pointing to the furthest target.
““Fire” “orb” “projectile” “Explode”” he snapped, his voice a little hoarse, and a sheep-sized orb of fire manifested a foot away from his extended arm before hurling itself to the hay dummy, hitting hit within an instant and exploded as planned, sending bits of flaming hay into the pit it was placed in.
Alaster stared at his work, and had the equivalent of a grin. (His mouth is a bit open and the tip of his tongue is out “blep”)
“Fireball, Fireball, Fireball YAAAAAAAAAAY…!”
The adventurers cheered and applauded, staring at the target’s remains, Alaster started to feel ..odd.
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All warmth had left his body, his warming spell interrupted, out of fuel to burn. Fatigue filled every fiber of his being, his body suddenly feeling heavy, lazy, his muscles producing extra effort to keep him upright.
He took a shaky breath, and reached for his mana to try and keep himself warm, only to find almost none. He was nearly out, and he could figuratively feel his “fingertips” hitting rock bottom as he tried to scoop some, barely wet and oily feeling. Any attempt to scoop or collect any ended in failure, the little mana left slipping off his metaphorical fingers.
His mind raced and a pang of panic was threatening to overwhelm him. This was the first time he felt like that, and he had no idea how to react. His breathing hitched, and the world lost all stability, making him miss a step and stumble.
Tanya noticed first, followed soon by the mages in the crowd. She was close enough to catch him as he started to veer to the side, his eyes, previously glowing blue, were now dull pink, their true colors, and glazed over.
“Al !” she propped him upright “Are you okay ?” she asked helpfully.
A few robed adventurers approached quickly, a couple of them wielding their staff in their hands. Healers, Tanya guessed, one approaching close, kneeled then her hand touched Al’s shoulder. The rough looking woman wearing coarse robes had their eyes glowing a second before she visibly relaxed. “He’s OUM” she said to no one in particular, but loud enough for anyone close to hear.
“Ah, he’s finally Out of Magic, or “OUM"" an approaching mage said, just as loud as the healer lady, kneeling before the two pre-teens. He waved his hand in front of alaster’s muzzle and snapped a couple times, the lizard man's head turned groggily toward the noise. “Don’t worry, little girl, he just overdid it a touch.” Gently holding Alaster’s chin, his own eye sporting the soft glow of mana usage. “Man, that was an impressive number of fireballs though.” He whistled softly as the healer visibly rolled her eyes.
“Will he be okay ? He’s all limp” she remarked, taking one wrist and lifting it up to chest height before letting go, limp as a noodle.
The mage blinked, and the glow dimmed almost completely, mixing with the green of the man’s irises. He turned his head to the healer, who nodded a little then she turned to Tanya.
“He’ll be fine, he just did the equivalent of running until he couldn’t anymore and now he’s all tuckered out.” She said, dusting her robes with her hands as she stood back up, reassured.
The man gently tapped under Alaster’s chin “Hey kid, you hear me ?”
“Yesssir…? Wazzit?” Alaster slurred, his eyes lazily moving up to meet with the mage’s gaze.
“First time practicing that much ?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Hm!” Al nodded slowly, making a little throaty sound Tanya never heard before.
“You gotta learn to pace yourself, kid. Imagine if you only had enough mana to make the fireball and not enough to throw it?”
“...Oof” Al uttered,the healer rolled her eyes once more at that reaction, shaking her head.
“Yeah, oof.” He chuckled, his hand moving to hold Alaster’s shoulder. “You should ask your teacher to instruct you how to gauge your mana pool.” He turned to Tanya. “He might feel a little dizzy and act a little drunk.” The man’s hand touched the side of Al’s throat, triggering another throaty sound from Al as he leaned into the hand to take advantage of the warmth. “Poor thing is cold as ice! You think you can bring him home yourself, or do you need help, little lady? He needs to rest up in the warmth, then he’ll be fine.”
Tanya propped her friend up as the crowd calmed down and went back to their spot on the firing range. Alaster was giggling a little as they cleared the training area, staring around with wide eyes at things only he could see.
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Like earlier on their way to the firing range, the villagers and adventurers made a point to give Tanya and Alaster a wide berth, some even staring at them all the while.
Alaster was feeling too weird and giddy to really care, his pinkish eyes flickering blue a little as he saw the magic particles suspended in the air, forming some neat rainbows of colors, noticing how some people had more around and into them than others.
Tanya herself felt self-conscious about it. What did they do? Has Jek or another spread rumors about them or Alaster? She didn’t have the time to inquire right now, as her friend was busy giggling and squinting at people, his tail wrapped around her waist.
Tanya recognized one of the staring adventurers, waiting his turn for bread, a young-looking elf she previously saw at Felix's place. She saw him raise an eyebrow at the two, arms crossed, awkwardly standing still for a moment until Al giggled to himself, a hand raised in a shy and lazy wave, clinging a little closer to Tanya, slurring something to the elf.
“heeeyylen … howzit ?” Alaster giggled
Len's expression turned from slightly curious into mild concern as he quickly went to the smaller lizardman, snapping his finger in front of his muzzle.
“Hey, Lipswick!” he called out, lowering himself to be at the same height. “What happened to him ?” he asked, placing his gracile hand on Al’s scaly forehead, turning his head to Tanya.
Some mutterings in the crowd around them, but Tanya couldn’t hear what was said.
“We went to the firing range and Al went a little overboard on the fireballs. A guy said he’s “Oum”?” She explained, trying to pronounce that word like the adventurer did back there.
Len visibly relaxed, removing the back of his hand off Al’s forehead. “Okay, good, I couldn't tell if he had any fever or if he was intoxicated.” He looked around. “Let’s keep moving, Everyone’s staring at you two.”
“Why ? What is going on ?” Tanya asked, lowering her voice.
“You don’t know? I’ll tell you both when we get him home”.
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Andrea spotted the three kids long before they made it to their cottage near her tower. She thought nothing of it at first, seeing how Alaster was flanked by Tanya and the apprentice adventurer Felix took up training as a favor.
All of that changed when they were close enough for her to notice that her son was being propped up by the two others, and the chilling lack of mana within his form.
Her hands tightened on the edge of her sanctum’s window as her heart skipped a beat. What happened this time? Who dared to..?
She jumped off the tower, her dark robes fluttering in the air as her mana condensed below her, guiding her fall forward and cushioning her fall to the ground before the three kids, not wasting any time to check on her son.
“Al ? Al, sweetie, are you okay?” She asked, kneeling in front of him, his muzzle into her hands to look into his eyes, her own glowing blue as she checked on him. Gods his scales felt so cold !
“Oooh ! He..heyyy moooOoom !” Alaster giggled as he finally spotted her, his movements lazy and jerky as the last of his heat escaped his body. “I see pretty colors !”
What? Poor baby, he’s so cold he’s starting to hallucinate … she thought to herself, her mana starting to cycle into her palms, heating him up a little.
Then she understood.
The lack of mana.
The bubbly behavior.
The warming spell interrupted.
The pink eyes.
The poor kid exhausted all his magic, He's OUM!
“Awh poor baby!” She said, giggling a little, stroking his cheek, taking him by the arm with her other hand. “Thank you two for bringing him here, please, come in and warm yourselves up and have a hot drink. I got some good tea and biscuits from Serval for you to snack on.”
“Thank you, Lady Lipswick, but-” Len tried to decline
“Call me Andrea” she waved him off “Len, was it? I’m a Mage, not a Lady. Now come with us to rest a little before you leave, can’t have you unthanked. Tanya, you can let go now, i’ll bring him home myself” She said, lifting Alaster in her arms as if he was weighing nothing, her strength enhanced by her magic.
Soon, the Firestone was lit, tea was brewing and Alaster was put in a rocking chair next to the chimney, the heat emanating from the stone giving him back some energy as he kept on muttering to himself drowsily, soon falling asleep.
“Why is he acting like that? I thought being out of mana only meant that you felt drained and sluggish, not acting drunk.” Len asked, sitting cross legged on a wooden chair, holding a biscuit he was egged on to take despite his polite protestations.
“Sometimes, when a mage or an adventurer spends mana on a spell or a technique they don’t have the reserves for, when they tap into their mana reserves, they can instinctively reach into the ambient mana. Instead of fizzling out and flooring them or worse, the spell is casted successfully . It’s something that doesn't happen often at all, and the mage core will flood with that foreign mana.” Andrea explained, levitating the kettle around to serve her guests. “This mana is not purified by the caster beforehand, and it spreads into the body. Unpurified, the mana dilutes into them and the first symptoms are not unlike classic lack of mana, but also very much like being drunk.”She shrugged “In most cases, rest is the easy fix. Thankfully, it doesn't look like Al pushed himself much further. If he did, it would have been bad. Not that the mages or anyone with mana sense couldn’t see coming a mile away. A popular Hazing method back in the day was to let the new mages OUM themselves during exercises. It teaches them about their limits.”
“So, in short he’s going to be fine.” Len summarized.
“Yes, but still, he’ll be in for an unpleasant morning.” Andrea Sighed.
Silence filled the living room for a moment after that, broken by Andrea’s sipping on her tea.
“So, uh, Len, you told me you knew why the villagers were staring at us more than usual?” Tanya asked, finally able to ask the question.
Len stared at Tanya, finally about to eat the cookie in his hands before stopping
“Someone from Waxia discovered that Alaster and Andrea’s family name is Lipswick.” Len finally said, leaning forward.
"Ah."