Ok, so this project is to age an magus from gauntlet to archmage status. I'm also including a bit of fiction to give a better feel for the magus, and to keep this project interesting.
First installment, Lena of Bonisagus. Eight years post gauntlet (1096) at the start of the First Crusade.
Google doc of the character sheet here.
Covenant of Monk’s Folly, The Forest Outside of Rouen, Duchy of Normandy Spring Season, 1096
Everything began in the council chambers at Monk’s Folly. The Order of Hermes had clear rules, you will not scry on other magi. Which meant that any number of magi thought Lena was scrying on them. It didn’t help that members of Lena’s own house, Bonisagus, tended to spend too much time in the lab. Try convincing somebody that you were reading Fencil on Rego and not spying on their tryst. So the last person Lena wanted to see was Hesiod of Tremere, one of the Quaesitores – the Orders investigators. Lena tried to have as little to do with them as possible.
For all that, Hesiod himself was less intimidating than his title. A short man with curly black hair and a, somewhat faded, black robe. All together the effect was somewhat rakish. “Flamena Lena, so nice to meet you. I was hoping to talk to you about the coming crusade.”
That was unexpected. “We’re full of refugees after the riot in Rouen.” And I’m blackmailing far too many nobles and clergy trying to stop these barbarians from killing anyone else, was left unsaid. “The order is in a somewhat delicate situation. We would like to avoid drawing similar ire from the church. Urban is insistent that the Order take part in the coming conflict. I take it you’ve heard about the Grand Tribunal decision?” According to the most recent grand tribunal only magi with gifts not likely to antagonize mundanes could take part in the crusade. Magic could only be used in self defense or against Saracen sorcerers. The part about the Pope pressuring the Order was new. When the ruling was announced it seemed that the Tribunal had simply been caught up in the popular madness. “I’m sorry, what is your point? I’m, thankfully, ineligible to participate.” Like most members of the order Lena’s gift gave most people without magical protection an uneasy feeling. That and her presence curdled milk – not normal for most members of the Order. “Unless you are invited. Lena, we need your talents.” “I hope those crusader bastards sink on the way and go straight to hell. No! Find somebody else. I don’t even speak the Saracen language.” “Lena, it’s not the Saracens we’re concerned about. You are the only seer in the Order who speaks the Norman tongue and doesn’t have a gift so strong that it will make the army want to murder us all as devils.” That, that might actually be correct. Most of the Seers in the order talked to each other – in Latin – on a regular basis. Plenty of seers spoke Greek or Gaelic. Despite it’s popularity in noble courts, Norman had yet to catch on. “Even if what you said is true, why should I care?” “The good of the Order, the lack of vis in France, we’ll pay you.” A small laugh escaped Lena’s lips, “if you plan on hiring me, I want a longevity ritual of at twenty fifth magnitude, a queen of Creo vis, a copy of the green book of the Alps – without copying restriction – a hundred magnitudes of spells to be named later, and the order pays all expenses. Also, I don’t have to fight or even help the crusaders unless I want to.” Which were absolutely ridiculous demands. “Done. Your ship leaves from Marseille on the first of August.”
Hesiod looked back at the set of squat buildings behind an earthen dike where he had just left one very shocked Lena. A large shape with red skin and what might have been taken for horns stepped out of the underbrush. “So what did she do?” “About what you said she would. Asked for the moon.” “And you gave it to her?” His companion asked in a sweat voice. “Of course.”
Hesiod couldn’t help but crack a smile, he’d just recruited the Maga with blackmail material on almost all the leaders of the crusade.