Actually,it is an "Individual" glacier, with +2 magnitudes for size. I am simply reading it as "a very large chunk of ice" and handwaving it.
So, if you are indeed intent on taking a side trip, how are you gettiing there and do you take anyone with you?
OOC: Ok.... With a little calculation, I can see that it is actually feasible to convert a very LARGE amount of glacier with a high enough Spont spell. x10 for every +5 levels means that a Level 50 (max for non-Ritual effect) would be able to handle around 40 MILLION Tons--or just under the amount cited for Lake Constance. Wow. Wow AGAIN.
Regarding the trip, it's a question of how far. Vares was going to use his teleport magic (Mastered spell!) to make a series of jumps to get there. He can Flex it to take someone else if need be. He can float though he can't really "fly", but he has enhanced vision (spell) to make certain that the jump routes are clear, seeing the destination for each one clearly.
Anyone else interested in a brief trip to Verdi? Or we can make some rolls to determine the success of the trip if you prefer, Marko, then move into the planned entry into the Arc of Fire.
Question is "How Much are you willing to spend and/or go into debt for?"
OOC depending on the distance and how fast a certain dragon flies, we can get there quickly. After all, Ameline can make everyone effectively weightless (floating for sun duration) and then we just hold on as Sigmundo flies there. (wasn't what I was expecting from Sigmundo though, I was expecting him to know the loci near here to get us there teh same way the effreet did. (through the magic realm)).
The efreets ability to travel into the magic realm is an innate ability. If you had a few years and appropriate insight, you might be able to achieve a Minor Breakthrough needed to invent a spell to take you directly to the magic realm, but you do not have the time for this 
You guys are already on the island. You guys either rode on the dragon's back or flew/teleported under your own power. It does not matter which. What Arawn is currently up to is taking a quick side trip to Verdi in order to purchase a magical weapn of some kind. He has to be back on the island by noon so we can run through prepatory drills.
Hi,
Yes. The spell that was cast breaks the rules--the level is too low. The concept is workable, though--unless the GM decides that it must be a ritual simply because the effect is big and cool, which is RAW too. Technically, lvl50 must be a ritual. Level 49 is the biggest non-ritual.
Anyway,
Ken
Level 50 doesn't need to be a ritual, level 51 does. You have ten fingers, you can cast ten magnitudes of a non-ritual formulaic spell. If you had an eleventh finger, well then you could go a bit higher.
Hi,
That's not what it said last I read!
Anyway,
Ken
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain...
The SG has the final word on subjects like this. My two cents is that I wrote a level 50 formulaic CrIg spell for Societates, and it passed David's entire quality-control process. This is strong anecdotal evidence that level 50 is allowable as a non-Ritual.
Hi,
Of course. I'm not even saying that the original spell should be barred; it was cast, Marko accepted it, and that's that.
(I prefer to remove the cap for rituals altogether....)
Anyway,
Ken
RAther than argue, I actually went back to the book and looked up the actual rule's wording.
This means 50 is allowed, 51 is not.
By the way, something else has been going on while you have been preoccupied. This is not anything your characters are aware of, but I shall let you as players read the side story that has been teking place...
It was shortly after nightfall when the Tremere magus quietly departed Andorra. It was with little fanfare as it was a time where most were occupied with dinner or their own devices. He compelled the guard to open the gates with a mere glance. He carried most of his own personal effects he likely deemed absolutely necessary to carry with him immediately. The larger objects of his laboratory and sanctum remained there untouched. Whether he intended to send for them at a later time was unknown which was par for the course when dealing with him. He was followed loosely behind by the now former custos Marjolaine, the personal servant once assigned to the Silent Tower of Andorra.
Marjolaine watched the magus from behind. He had not spoken since he informed her he was leaving the covenant permanently. She still had the letter of recommendation he provided tucked in the front laces of her bodice so as not to lose it. She had been at Andorra for so long, she didn't know where to go. She reasoned Octavian would still have need for a servant and so resolved to follow him along. He had not expressed he disapproved and so on she went.
When Khyron attacked, Marjolaine could still see the fires burning brightly in the cold night sky. She turned immediately to the magus ahead of her with an expectant look on her face. With the crunch of her footsteps on the snow having stopped, Octavian only paused in stride long enough to state: "Good evening Miss Marjolaine. If I may recommend the inn at the village if you are fatigued? This is not an ideal place for you to break camp."
She was stunned by the answer. All she could reply was: "Aren't you going to go help them?"
Octavian looked up towards Andorra. The bright fires reflecting clearly and terrifyingly in his sinister green eyes. "It is no longer my concern."
"B-but," she stammered. "They are in danger! This might be that Metron person everyone was speaking of!" The urgency in her voice apparent.
His gaze never left the distant fires. "Your worry is misplaced miss Marjolaine, if you permit me in saying so. What is currently attacking Andorra is not Metron but rather another threat they ignored my counsel on."
His words did nothing to settle her mind. "So what the others have said about you were true... you didn't care about them and stole from them."
The accusation attracted his gaze directly upon her. A chill fell down her spine and it was not for the cold air. He advanced upon her silently before stopping. Her chest gripped with terror, she could not turn away. She could only mutter. "W-well, is it?"
Softly, he replied: " Andorra believed I had acquired some baubles or magical trinkets Metron had abandoned in a sack after an altercation with me. They also believed that it was theirs by some false right of possession. They never made inquiry as to the effects of the sack. Had they did, the secrets within would have been shared to its membership at the time. However, their lack of interest and narrow-minded shortsightedness would have prevented them sharing that information at worst, or exchanging for some petty favours with other covenants that were at danger without it at best."
Her eyes widened. "Would they have done that?" she wondered to herself. She recalled the various disagreements the other magi had with Octavian on the topic of remaining unaffiliated with others of their kind except when it was to their benefit. The seed of doubt remained however when she was about to follow-up on her question when he suddenly sent her off the beaten path with a swift kick to the abdomen. She tumbled down into a ditch, her forehead getting cut open by a slightly sharp rock, leaving her face a crimson. She looked up to where she had previously been to a wave of heat washing over her…
Steam rose from where Marjolaine and Octavian once stood from the now melted snow, obscuring vision. From the woods came a voice:
"Secrets, I would now re-c..."
The speaker was cut off mid-sentence as a thrown dagger emerged from the smoke and flew in its direction. The blade narrowly missed its mark, planting itself in a tree trunk with a solid thunk.
Metron cursed for having prematurely revealed his position. He sent his shadowy servants into the smoke to capture his target. When the smoke finally cleared, nothing was left to be found except for the charred ground below the snow. Still, he couldn't help but hide his predatory grin. He yelled out: "Now how terribly impolite of you Octavian! Here we are after only briefly exchanging pleasantries last time after so many years before we were so rudely interrupted by that big lout and now you don't even greet me or allow me to finish a sentence?"
He was met with silence. "He didn't fall for the bait", he mused to himself.
OOC: Vares has 4 pawns of Creo and 8 pawns of Mentem vis. The Creo Vis itself should be worth a fair amount.
He is not adverse to going into debt for at least another 4 Technique or 8 Form Vis if necessary.
If there is something very spendy, he might consider striking some other kind of deal or arrangement, such as introducing a Verditius Magus into the method for Hermetic Alchemy (the same one he offered to those at Andorra) enabling them to extract various Forms of Vis. Verdi is chronically short of the stuff, and being able to gain it that way could be a useful extra resource (5th Ed. Verditius aren't as strapped as the earlier versions, to be granted; some of their own methods for acquiring Vis are...enterprising).
If Verdi expects something else, Vares might bargain for it provided the magic item in question was deemed worth it. I.e. strongly matched what he was looking for. If they want to sell him some kind of defensive magic, he might consider that as an alternative. He isn't intent on a buying spree, however, as he doesn't have time and doesn't intend on going deeply into debt.
Okay, how about this...
(Hand wave the quick trip to Verdi).
The will not have an infinite variety of items handy to fill any need. Custom jobs take time and patience. You are limited to what they have on hand; a few magic swords, a couple of fire wands, a lightning wand, a suit of weightless chainmail; the kind of stuff hat moves like hotcakes through venditiores into the hands of crusaders and spell-focused magi to busy to make enchantments. Some odd curiosities; a ring of flying, a helm of teleportation, a hammer of thunderbolts, and so on. However, most of these items will be useless to you.
Only if you mention what you are up to will someone present an item that may be useful
[color=green]Andreas Greco of Verditius: [color=red]Ah! What you need are these incense chimes. I specifically designed them to protect against genies. I have sold chimes such as these to the Holy Sepulcher and the Covenant of Baghdad. This is exactly what you need.
These are kind of like the ones Orthodox priests use, you gently rock them going "sh-ching, sh-ching", spreading sweet smelling incense in the air as you do. You activate the item by filling the chambers with incense and lighting them. The sweet smelling smoke protects a room or group (the area covered by the smoke) from Genies as a Ward specific to Realm (Magic, so it is ineffective against faerie or infernal genies) and Form (Ignem, all genies are made from smokeless flame, even the ones that live underwater).
[color=red]Eighteen pawns of vis and it is yours.
If that isn't what you are looking for, there is one other item you may wish to experiment with. It is an empty genie lamp I obtained from a crusader friend of mine. The spirit it had once housed was destroyed, but it is an authentic Jar of Solomon. If you can force or trick a genie inside, it cannot escape until you choose to release it. I have not fully investigated it, but theoretically there is no upper limit to how powerful a spirit can be imprisoned inside. I do not wish to part with it, but I am willing to loan it to you for a season in exchange for a season of service.
Octavian crouched behind a tree. The edges of his full jacket were singed but his parma magica had held enough to protect from the fiery attack that had been aimed at him. From his sleeve he removed a dagger, his last remaining one, having loosed the other one earlier. No doubt Metron would have left one of those shadows of his laying in wait in case Octavian would return to reacquire it. He also had to remain on the move less the other shadows Metron sent to scour the area would find him. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, his breath visible to the naked eye. He was weighed down by having to carry his possessions which would hinder him in a fight; like his throwing aim.
"Answer me!" came Metron's voice as he now stepped out into the open. Octavian's eyes reopened into narrow slits.
A second dagger came flying from the woods coming at Metron from his left side. Metron only noticed it too late and desperately tried to dodge. He cursed himself for the opening and closed his eyes as if to brace for the pain but then... nothing. He looked down at where the dagger would have landed and saw nothing. It dawned on him. "HAHA! You think you are clever with that imaginém spell of yours now do you? You thought then that I would assume the next dagger you threw at me would be an illusion when it was real?"
Again there was silence. "You forget one of the gifts I was granted by my allies! My eyes are now better than what 'God' gave me! I am better, faster, STRONGER than you. Admit it! You fear facing me! That is why you are playing this game of cat and mouse! But I WILL find you!"
At that moment, he sensed his shadows had found something. He quickly wizard leaped to their location but as he arrived at the site, the ground gave away and he stumbled into a ditch. He only barely managed to keep himself upright to catch a glimpse of the Tremere about to stab him. Metron smiled as he faded into the shadows and reappeared floating up about 50 feet in the air.
He looked down at where the Tremere had laid his trap and resolved to take away the cover. He invoked a ball of abysmal flame to burn the trees in that particular patch of woods. If he torched the quaesitore, so much the better.
Once more, Octavian narrowly missed being consumed by flame. His wizard leap brought him as far away from the epicentre of the blast that one could. he lay hidden behind a rock, observing Metron's position from the ground as the woods were being bombarded from above. Certainly it would tire Metron out some but the area would become an inferno before long.
After his fourth fire spell, Metron stopped. He was mindful of the fatigue such a barrage would leave him at. His subsequent spells after the abysmal flame were lower magnitudes. Not as big or as powerful as the previous ball of abysmal flame, but enough to create the spark of a forest fire in the hills. Octavian, however was not so fortunate as the speed of his breaths increased. The fatigue from the perdo terram spell to loosen the earth in his trap as well as casting silent trackless and wizard's leaps were taking their toll. He reached into his pack and removed a casting tablet. He waited for the fallen magus to yell once more before casting a spell. Suddenly, his breath calmed as Metron began the next attempt at goading his prey into an open confrontation.
"Let us end this game, quaesitore. I'd have offered you to join me and my allies but I know you Tremere have only one master and are all too weak to not succumb to becoming slaves. Not like we Flambeau! Besides, you must not forget your servant is likely to get caught in the flames if she hasn't already! Even that must account for something to the likes of you! You wouldn't want to throw away a tool now would you?"
The word tool struck Octavian like a hammer to the head. His vision swam. He clutched at his eyes with his free hand, trying desperately to stop it but to no avail...