The Traditions

Ah, for the Age of Magick! A wondrous time with miracles close at hand! A smart, ambitious mage could do great things with his Arts – call storms, conjure spirits, raise castles out of stony ground, and shatter opposing armies with a wave of his mighty hand! That’s the vision of the Traditionalists… or of some of them, at least: a return to that bygone age when magick was a force of elemental change, and a mage could command Arts that would make the bravest men cry out in terror and lay still.

It’s a wonderful dream – one that’s kept the Nine Traditions going for over 500 years. The pride in their personal vision and ancestral Arts energizes these mages long past the point at which lesser souls would have given up. In many ways, these are the guardians of wonder, holding on to the best aspects of their history in order to give tomorrow a fighting chance. And yet, it’s also a selfish vision, so bound by its own glory that its keepers often miss the cost of that dream to other people.

So are the Traditions brave saviors of a bygone wonder-age… or a misbegotten experiment led by throwbacks with selfish agendas and careless behavior?

Honestly, both are true. Though it’s accurate to say that Tradition mages fight the good fight against the Technocracy’s stifling imperialism, it’s just as accurate to call them reckless nutjobs who prefer candles to halogen lamps. The Nine Traditions’ mystics have suffered appalling crackdowns at the hands of mortal witch-hunters and the Technocratic Union… and yet, two of their greatest disasters – the betrayal of the First Cabal and the fall of Doissetep – were both self-inflicted. Technocratic Explorators might have plundered the Americas while the High Guild ran the slave trade, but it was Hermetic Masters whose arrogance marginalized the Dreamspeakers and shattered a centuries-old alliance with the Ahl-i-Batin.

The Traditions make a lot of mistakes, have committed their share of atrocities, and hold a vision of Ascension that would leave most human beings screaming in terror. Are they the good guys, then? In the treacherous Awakened world, no mage is truly innocent and no faction is truly good. At best, they can live their lives by high ideals and use their powers to advance humanity as a whole without grinding human beings into the dirt.

Despite their many mistakes, the Traditions have plenty to be proud of. For over half a millennium, the Council has championed cooperation across cultural divides. This might not seem like much to some, especially given the Council’s many lapses when it comes to the Dreamspeakers in particular. Still, the wide range of people who’ve earned the title Master among the Traditions has rarely been limited by race or creed throughout the ages – only by accomplishment.

That, then, is the challenge of a Tradition mage: to hold onto the best your group has to offer and make tomorrow better than yesterday has been.

The Traditions may well be scattered and bruised, still slowly healing after the devastating losses of two decades before, yet some facts never change: Each individual mage still has potential to effect great change. This isn’t simply a matter of world-crashing spells — it’s a battle of ideology and education, as well. Great leaders and thinkers don’t have to be Awakened to change the world. Mages have an extra advantage, because not only can they too be revolutionaries and visionaries, but because they have the weight of magick backing them up.

Sadly, just as everyday people rarely agree one hundred percent on issues of politics, religion or morality, so too do most mages dispute and debate over the proper course of the world. Some small groups may work together for unified goals, but they quickly turn on one another once a problem rears its head or the goal nears completion. Ideological gulfs give rise to the schisms between Technocracy and Tradition, but what about the problems between the Traditions themselves?

For now, the Traditions remain together. Certainly, the world’s too dangerous for them to go it alone — by sharing their strengths, they forge a greater chance at guiding a better tomorrow. So who decides what makes a “better” tomorrow? Who’s in charge of the committee that tells which plan to use and which goals are most valid? Of such debates have come tears in the fabric of the Traditions. It has taken an immense effort over the last twenty years to stitch them back together.

The Traditions are surprisingly resilient. Perhaps their unified purpose is so strong that it defies the vagaries of individual members — each time one mage tries to tear something down, three others shore it up. The New Horizon Council as a whole has a momentum that won’t stop, even with the loss of important members, the failure of major goals and the continued pressures of a world that doesn’t accept it. While Tradition mages still bicker and fight over their perceived goals, they’re also out there getting things done — especially now that the pressures of recent losses have forced new alliances, dashed old politics and made mages take a stand. Tradition mages may still be scattered and desperate in many parts of the world, but there’s also hope for a better future. There’s room to clear away debris and carve out new niches – and increasingly, they’re choosing to rebuild rather than hide.

With the Traditions in their reorganizing position, many of their old ways have come under scrutiny in recent years. Is it really worthwhile to expend effort to brand someone magickally because he said something insulting to an older mage? Is there really a point to establishing Umbral bases and hoarding magickal resources while everyday people suffer under the problems of very real poverty, warfare and hatred? Perhaps — but, for the first time in a long time, the Tradition leadership embodied in the New Horizon Council is looking around and seeing not only how they can advance themselves, but what they can do to help other people as well.

Despite the many setbacks thrown against the Traditions, hope remains. Mages still might not agree on what’s the right thing to do or how to do it, but they entertain the notion that everyone has a say and that these issues should be explored. Instead of automatically learning set responses to the Technocracy, inherited strictures and enforced structures, the mages of the modern Traditions have flexibility. Without god-like Archmages holding the whip hand, younger mages can decide that the Traditions just aren’t working for them, or that important issues merit their attention first. Where before they might have been kept in line with scorn, ostracism or worse, the New Horizon Council realizes that they need to inspire those they hope to lead. They have to convince the younger mages (and even the hoary hold-outs) that their agendas and beliefs are compatible with the Traditions’ new direction.

Fortunately, while the Traditions may still have problems, their long-time adversaries haven’t found the opening years of the new millennium painless, either. The frenetic destruction levied by the Reckoning left the Technocratic Union reeling as well, and their job hasn’t gotten easier since. While Technocrats may still rain down destruction on unsubtle Traditionalists, they’re apt to leave low-key cabals alone while scrambling to deal with greater threats. Tradition mages have a better chance to fit in to local communities and organizations, there to spread hope and healing, or just to promote their own agendas.

Recent events of the last decades, such as the election of a new Council and the successful founding of the New Horizon Colony have helped bring long-time enemies together for reconciliation. Having suffered grievous losses a generation before, the Traditions have since re-embraced their ideological roots, opening the doors to diversity and to cooperation.

Some Tradition mages still fight against the Technocracy or stake out valuable territory in the Umbra. These pursuits remain as valid as ever. Now, though, the Traditions recognize more than before the validity of other forms of service — of working in communities, trading knowledge, forging peace and bridging the gulfs between different ideas. There’s still hope for a better future. The Tradition mages have come to realize that fighting to own pieces of that better future isn’t the same as making the future come to pass.

The Traditions are bigger than any one person. The founders of the Council had a vision that spanned many different lines of magickal practice. Traditionalists today hunt for the Awakened among all walks of society. They preach that everyone should have a chance at a better life with the magick they offer.

Now, this wasn’t always so — in fact, only a couple of decades ago prior to the Reckoning, the heads of the Traditions were still a bunch of old guys with ancient agendas and vendettas. Now many of them were quite enlightened, but just as many were set in their ways and convinced of the essential “correctness” of their ideas. Heck, the Order of Hermes’ claim to fame, even now, remains that if you spend enough time as an apprentice in their hierarchical system and you survive the politicking, you’d eventually get to use the politics in your own favor. Influence peddling and favor trading were, and remain, rampant.

But the Traditions have an agenda as a whole that won’t stop for a personal issue. Somehow, out of a group of misfits and malcontents, the Traditions forge a greater unity. Hackers and mad scientists stand next to ancient wizards and martial artists. All of them contribute. All of them have a valid set of views. It’s a tremendous effort. Maybe they don’t always agree, or understand one another, or get along — but they all recognize the value of each other, the need to open the doors to different practices and the desire to empower humanity like themselves. They realize that they must accept people who’re different, because every one of them is different to someone on the outside.

Give that some thought. What would the world be like if you couldn’t be different? I’m sure you’ve experienced it before. You didn’t dress like the fads indicated. You didn’t have the right job. Your ass wasn’t the right size or maybe you just had an accent that set you apart. How’d you feel? Alienated? Disempowered? Cheapened? Maybe… just maybe… a little less than human?

Take this to the next level. Imagine if every difference were stamped out. All good little clones, marching in order, waiting for the inevitable destruction of the universe. Somewhere out there, whirling madly, chaos and rampant energy swirl in a primordial dance, ready to devour the world… which ticks on, heedless, to an appointed, precise, calculated end. No room for your individual expression — it’s suppressed in favor of the mass ideal. No choices to make — they’re made for you, designed to maximize your benefit and minimize your risk, no matter what you may think or feel. Every meal is as bland and inoffensive as possible, made to cater to the lowest common denominator. Every person lives on the edge of dull hysteria, somewhere realizing that they’ve lost the ability to be unique yet so perfectly slotted into the marching order that they robotically walk straight into the maw of Armageddon at the end.

Depressing? Demonic? You bet. That’s the world without the Traditions. That’s a world without change, innovation, free will and expression, a world overtaken by hellish conformity and clockwork precision, where the individual no longer matters and anyone different is crushed under the heel of logical expedience.

Perhaps you think it’s a contradiction in terms. “How can Traditions, a group that stands for old ways, represent change?” Because these are old ways that have been put aside in favor of a New Order. These are ways that things were and could be again. They’re the magic that’s gone out of the world, waiting to be reborn.

They believe that you have the right to make your own life. Maybe better, maybe worse — but it’s your choice to make.

That’s what the Traditions are about.

Myths and whimsies from an age long since gone — winged sprites, storm-summoners, terrible dragons and magical swords… these live on in the Traditions. Strictly speaking, the Traditions keep the heritage of many different cultures and practices. Chief among these, though, are the magical styles and legends from around the world. A Tradition is essentially a way of doing things so ingrained that it defies explanation. Magic, too, is something that defies easy explanation; the two go hand-in-hand — Tradition is the expression of actions that lead to magick.

While the Traditions have long since lost their war for the world, they’re far from powerless. Griffins and phoenixes may no longer inhabit the Earth, but the mystics who consorted with them have left lineages of power. Every person who believes in a faerie tale or ancient story of magic gives strength to the Traditions. The spark of imagination cannot die, because every human is a child once — and all the things that children believe, the Traditions know. These people have the will to ensure that the world never forgets, and the dedication to slip a little magic into every day life. Myths aren’t true or false; they simply are.

Now picture these mystics slipping quietly, unseen, through every level of human society. There, at the corner drugstore, that man sells herbal remedies based on the medicines of his ancestors. Up in the skyscraper, the investment broker chooses her stocks with bone rattles and divinations. The woman crossing the street — she knows the secrets of seduction that will bend any man to her will, without ever touching one of them. They’re all around; anyone could be one. Mysterious and enticing, isn’t it? Like that perfume that you catch a whiff of, exotic and unseen, never meeting its wearer. You can’t tell them apart.

The Traditions aren’t some great conglomerate of mighty wizards bending the elements to their will, nor are they a collection of terrorists bent on world domination and the total extermination of their foes. They’re people, just a little different from everyone else. They aren’t necessarily a heroic group that will save all humanity, nor are they a group of selfish villains all determined to reshape the world to their whims. Like the myths from which they spring, they simply are.

In any group with so many different people and beliefs, differences are inevitable. Such divisions have existed from the start. For years, the Traditions couldn’t agree on ways to even talk about magick, much less common goals or eventual ends. Now, centuries later… well, they have a common means of talking about magick. They’re working on the rest.

Too much disconnection hampered the Traditions — disconnection between desire and reality, between Masters and Apprentices, between Earth and the Umbra. The Traditions want a better world but can’t decide on what makes a better world for all of them. Prior to the Reckoning (and even well into it), the older Adepts and Masters pursued hundred-year-old personal feuds, squandering their power and leaving the Initiates and Disciples to battle for issues of significance.

The Archmages of the past retreated to the Umbra, there to make judgments and pronouncements to the rest of the Traditions on Earth from Concordia — often about matters they didn’t understand, in places they hadn’t seen in centuries. The Traditions, living up to their name, were too hidebound: old ways and old mages ruled the day with their ancient agendas. Young mages could still accomplish their aims, but always there lurked the shadow of intervention from some older magician with an obfuscated goal from decades back — perhaps some crazed quest or a vendetta against a foe of no consequence in the greater scheme of the Ascension War. And where did it lead?

Destruction. Even decades later, the Tradition still reels from the trauma of the Reckoning. The realms of Horizon are in wreckage; when the ambassador of the Hollow Ones had enough, he let the Technocracy in and they threw Concordia down. Doissetep, too, disintegrated — victim of internal strife, finally blown apart in an archmage conflagration. The Digital Web crashed and reset, killing thousands simultaneously. Minor Horizon fell into ruin as they were cut off from their supply of power. Even Balador, famed pleasure-garden of the Cult of Ecstasy, was torn apart in a storm of meteoric vengeance. There’s no leadership forthcoming from the spirit world, because there are few leaders left there. It’s up to the Tradition mages on Earth, now.

There has undoubtedly been great progress made with the successful formation of the New Horizon Council and the ‘Colony‘ in New Zealand. Yet not everyone is pulling in the same direction. Individual cabals and chantries are still mostly left to their own devices. Leadership is scattered, fragmented at best. Disciples must take up the reins and go from there. It’s a trying time to be a Tradition mage… but also an exciting one. New opportunities arise. Clearing away the debris means that now the youth have the opportunity to build the future and to shape it as they desire, unfettered by their elders. The only problem? Figuring out where to go from here.

The Tradition weaknesses are many: They’re often disorganized. Communication is sporadic. Many Tradition members cannot easily share their magickal knowledge, and some even refuse to work with certain other Traditions. Leadership is either gone, senile or inexperienced. Old spells function less reliably and magickal items fail outright. Bleak times, indeed.

Naturally, this disorganization hurts the Traditions to some degree. There aren’t many powerful, stable mages remaining to precisely mentor their successors. The Traditions need everyone they can get, so new recruits aren’t always… stable. Once-proud orders can’t afford to take only the cream of the crop. On one hand, every mage now joins the Traditions specifically to get something out of them and only needs to stay as long as the deal’s good. On the other hand, this means that the Traditions house, more than ever, a multitude of conflicting viewpoints, including some that might be downright cynical, destructive or even criminal.

So what do Tradition mages do and feel in this chaotic world? A sense of loss, perhaps, buoyed by an appreciation for the future. While mages recognize the problems all around, many see a brighter horizon, where they have the ability to make real progress and overcome the mistakes of generations. Tradition mages are no longer fettered to the whims of a Otherworldly Council that exhorts them to wage bloody, secret warfare. Instead, they have forged a New Council of builders and dreamers again. They make new structures to meet, develop magick that functions in this new age, reveal plans to aid their friends, revitalize their communities, influence politics and change their world for the better. They’re buoyed by a new generation, born since the terrible events of the Reckoning, just now taking responsibility into their own hands.

It’s time to forge that all-too-necessary new direction. Time to pick up the pieces, quit moaning about better days and lost chances and make something new. To do that, the Traditions need to pull together, re-forge their alliance and become a united whole once more. The most ardent proponents of the New Horizon Council preach the need to communicate, coordinate and get with the program. Someone has to take up that job. Someone’s got to pave the way, show people how it’s done, collect the stragglers and keep everyone on schedule. That someone might as well be you.

Consider for a moment the dilemma of the individual Traditionalist. At some level, individuals form the Traditions, after all. The mage grew up in a technological world, surrounded by the tools of reason and ensconced in a society that wants to scoff at the supernatural. Suddenly, the mage Awakened to magick. A thousand years ago, that mage would’ve just apprenticed to a sorcerer or priest and lived out a mystical existence. Five hundred years ago, that mage would’ve been at the crux of the war between magick and reason, trying to reconcile the two or promote one side or the other. Today, that mage has no choice: The whole preconceived package of a scientific world came with the twenty-some-odd years of normal, everyday life before the Awakening, and that baggage can’t and won’t go away just because the mage suddenly learns to feel magick. These aren’t the mages of yesteryear — they’re something new.

The Traditions often made the claim that the world would’ve been better without the Technocratic Union. Given their way, older Traditionalists would have released magick back into the world so that everyone could have a little more risk and a little more wonder in everyday life. Now, though, the mystics — the visionaries and trailblazers who form new ways of doing things — have turned even the Tradition mindset on its head. What if, they say, we take the best of both worlds? These modern mystics don’t want to get rid of the artifacts of the scientific world; rather, they keep all of the elements that make life easier, more rewarding and more expansive while at the same time adding the dash of magick that they all share.

At the same time, the modern mystic looks for ways to apply technological tools to magickal practices. The significance of various technologies applies just as much as their scientific use. The television, for example, is more than just a box of electron guns. It’s a form of communication and a way to build communities out of people with shared stories or experiences. The gun isn’t just a set of finely-machined parts that launches a high-speed projectile — it’s a symbol of power and authority. Based on the feelings that these and other technologies invoke, modern mages work miracles that move hand-in-hand with equal parts gadgetry and geasa.

Paradoxically, not all visionaries feel ready to accept the combination of principles. Die-hard Traditionalists stress the importance of “pure” magick, arguing that giving even more power to technology simply weakens what little magick remains. Some technomages refuse to dirty their hands with “cheap mysticism.” Even so, the mages of this millennium cannot escape this phenomenon. Movies, telephones and cars are just as firmly ingrained among mages as among the Masses.

While mages often have goals or means of questionable ethics — from terrorism to tyranny — they also have all the best strengths of humanity. Their struggles are microcosms of the human race’s struggle to understand and better itself. To that end, each mage is in some sense a rebel and outcast from the rest of human society, but each also has the potential to be a heroic figure.

Gifted as they are with supernatural awareness and power, mages have the rare opportunity to take up a burden of responsibility. Too many fall into the trap of selfishness or inaction. The new Traditionalists push for mages not only to learn and grow, but also to involve themselves in their world – not abandon it. The only way to truly discover the world is to experience it first-hand.

While the temptation is always great to use one’s power to avoid problems or to bring personal wealth and aggrandizement, the Traditions challenge the mage to take up a cause greater than the individual. Sometimes, a rare mage rises to that challenge and changes the world for the better — in ways subtle or vast.

Still, much work remains to be done. The Traditions need unity in order to gather their strength. Tradition mages must learn to live with the world in which they’re thrust, and to work for the betterment of that world, instead of trying to dodge their responsibilities or flee to a fantasy. Most importantly of all, if the Traditions are to prosper, the mages of the Traditions must once again become the heroes that they were in legend — larger-than-life figures striding across the landscape to perform deeds of greatness that raise up and exalt humanity through their dedication, compassion and very existence.

There’s a reason the Council chose the word arête to represent a mage’s highest quality. It means “excellence,” and that’s what the Council prizes most. Anyone can be a Tradition Master if she, he, or even occasionally ze works hard, strives to perfect their Arts, and stands by oaths, promises, and honor.

Yes, Tradition mages lie, scheme, and fall short of their lofty goals; still, as far as the Council is concerned, the goal of excellence is the highest mortal aspiration. And so, Tradition members seek knowledge and endure hardships so that they might become more worthy of the title mage.

From its inception onward, the Council of Traditions has held room for anyone who can meet those standards of excellence. Neither gender nor creed nor ethnicity has prevented the Traditions from accepting worthy Adepts. That’s not to say they haven’t occasionally been… well, racist, to be honest; especially with regards to the Dreamspeakers, they have been and in some regards still are. Considering the group’s origins in medieval Europe, however, it has remained surprisingly diverse.

Unlike the monolithic Technocratic Union, the Traditions find strength in flexibility. They’re the reed bundle, not the oak. A diverse approach to life and magick has kept the Traditions supple… which might be why the group has endured its many challenges. When one mage or Tradition falters, the others take up the strain; when one prospers, the rest often share the benefits. That heterodox approach to magick has allowed the Council to thrive in the modern era, too.

Though many of the Disparate Crafts stagnated, the Council has always attempted to evolve with the changing spirit of the times, as shown by their acceptance of the Etherites and Virtual Adepts in the 20th century, even while sadly losing the Batini. These days, the Traditions are more diverse than ever. As the older wizards die off, their colonial legacy fades as well. Younger mages, meanwhile, have refused to take any further shit from musty old relics and now take their issues to the table… or the certámen field… when necessary. There are still problems, of course – that’s inevitable. Even so, the principle of Valemus ex pluribus – “From Many, We are Strong” – is a long-standing Council tradition.

Shared power demands mutual respect… especially when the power in question can literally turn people inside out. The formalities between Council members (see Ranks, Titles & Politics, below) reflect the respect each member has earned. Unlike the hereditary or purchased ranks so common in the mortal realm, Council titles are earned through accomplishment. A Tradition mage must pass certain tests and master certain Arts before she’ll be afforded a formal title. Even now, when so many old institutions have been discarded due to progress or necessity, formal titles must be earned, not assumed.

Even the lowest Council ranks, however, are due a certain amount of respect under Council law. Sure, an arrogant Master treats his companions like shit – from a certain perspective, he’s earned the right to do so. That said, even the most condescending wizard tends to grant more respect to his fellow mages or loyal acolytes than he gives to other mere mortals. The label “Sleepers” separates a Tradition member from the mass of unAwakened humanity, and although that’s pretty dismissive of the masses, it also reflects the principle of respect within the Council itself.

Enlightenment’s a funny thing: it can blind you to so-called little things like human suffering, yet it can also open your eyes and heart so wide that every bit of suffering becomes an affront to life itself. And so, Council mages range from incredibly compassionate people who’ll risk everything to soothe a stranger’s pain, to war-machines who’ll grind through an entire neighborhood because the residents will just get reincarnated anyway.

Ideally, the Council was formed to protect the common people from rival sorcerers. To a point, that ideal involves more marketing than reality. Protocol declares, “Protect the Sleepers,” so most Tradition members do. Beyond that, though, there’s a sense of responsibility to the unAwakened world, if only because the Council knows how much magick depends on people and their belief in it.

The Council generally frowns on coercion, too. Sleepers should be allowed to make their own decisions and find their own ways toward spiritual fulfillment. In the past, Tradition Masters have used their powers to compel belief or punish disobedience… and that past shames the Council as a whole. Especially for mages who come from cultures that have been oppressed and enslaved, the principle of free choice – even when that choice puts the Traditions on the wrong side of reality – is unshakable. “If we just forced the Sleepers to go along with us,” goes the reasoning, “or simply drugged them until they followed our lead, we’d be no better than the Technocrats.”

Even though certain technomancers have issues with the term, the idea of magick forms one of the Council’s foundation principles. To most Traditionalists, magick is the Art and Science of transforming reality through Will and understanding. Though they often disagree about specific methods, Tradition mages share a common belief: you change reality because you know you CAN.

For want of a better term, they agree to call this belief “magick.”

This belief has carried the Council through its many trials and divisions. Even now, when advanced technology rules the world, Tradition mages retain their faith in magick. Sure, they’ll use their own conflicting terms to define it… or even, in the case of the Etherites and Virtual Adepts, shake their collective heads at such a ridiculous term. Still, magick is the Council’s core, the faith that unites it even beyond disaster.

All those other elements lead to the bedrock upon which the Traditions stand: the ideal of Ascension. Though they all have different ideas about the specifics, Council members agree that an intersection of personal transcendence and the development of humanity is the highest aspiration of a mage.

People deserve better than some wretched World of Darkness – more than sedation or oblivion. According to the Council, this broken shell of Creation cannot be the best we can achieve. And so – even when that ideal seems further away than ever before – the Traditions seek personal perfection and the betterment of man.

As the original “default setting” for a Mage chronicle, Tradition mages are the ones most folks think of playing. They’re certainly the most familiar types – the wizards, clerics, shamans, witches, and so forth. For the most part, a Tradition character pursues “magick” as a mystic Art, although certain technomancers – especially the Etherites and Virtual Adepts – consider it an advanced science instead. And, unlike Technocrats or the mages of many Disparate sects, Tradition mages tend to be flexible in their practices, dedicated to their beliefs, of course, but more willing to see another side of things.

From a roleplaying perspective, then, the Tradition mages are idealistic survivors, fighting to preserve and perpetrate a worldview based on wonder and potential. Despite internal and external cataclysms, these groups consider themselves the last great hope for humanity’s future. They seek hopeful rebels for their ranks, and nurture a sense of courageous rightness. Especially in the New Horizon era, there is a whole new crop of mystic Gen Z punks spitting in the face of oppressive conformity (and even not so oppressive…). In their own minds, the Traditions are perpetual underdogs. Even in their mythic past, they were the few, the proud, the geniuses struggling against a Sleeping humanity. And so, when you play a Tradition mage, keep that sense of scrappy idealism. More than any power or protocol, that’s the thing that keeps the Traditions intact.

On the whole, Tradition mages also strive for compassion. The difference between the Council’s term for unAwakened people – the Sleepers – as opposed to the Technocracy’s term for them – the Masses – reveals this compassion. For most tradition mages, people just need to wake up and see what they’re capable of doing; for most Technocrats, people are monolithic blocks to be guarded, shaped, and shepherded out of the way. When you play a Tradition character, then, keep that sense of waking people up as a vital motivation. It’s perhaps the most redeeming feature of an otherwise self-involved group.

Above all other things, Tradition mages have faith. If and when that faith cracks, they crack too. The greatest weapon the Fallen and Technocracy share when dealing with Tradition mages is the apparently hopeless position of a Council mystic. To persevere in the face of godlike rivals, clueless humanity, and Reality itself, a Tradition character must maintain a stubborn conviction that he or she is right – that in the end, the mage’s beliefs will triumph. That faith will either elevate the mage personally or else raise all humanity to a greater state of being. And so, whomever you play and ever group you choose, hold firm to your character’s beliefs. On many levels, those beliefs make them who they are.

It’s an unwritten but understood law among Tradition mages: give the respect that your fellows have earned. This was especially important in the early days, when strangers from around the world forged an alliance despite rifts of sex, culture, creed, and language. In this new millennium, few mages care about such formality unless you’re a Hermetic magus, a Chorister, an Akashic, or somebody dealing with one of them. Still, it’s good idea to at least understand the established pecking order, especially when tradition is part of your identity.

During the Grand Convocation of the 1400s, the Traditions established a number of shared ranks and titles. Like negotiating enemies, these founders bestowed honorifics upon one another and then respected those titles, and the people who’d earned them, accordingly. A man might speak a strange language, have a different skin color, and worship gods that seem like devils to you, but that man was still Master So-and-So, bani Such-and- Such. Your culture might not accept women as equals, but if that woman was an Adept or Master of her Tradition, then she had earned the right to be your peer – possibly even your superior.

In the days of colonial oppression, these titles, and the honors attached to them, allowed mages to work together without killing one another… most of the time, anyway. As a result, although those titles have fallen out of favor in recent years, Tradition members still use them in formal settings or when settling disputes. Even in this democratic age, there are practical reasons to ritualize respect.

A few of the Nine Traditions have their own internal take on ranks among themselves: A few such as the Dreamspeakers, Verbena or Virtual Adepts eschew them entirely.

Akashyana

• Sidai – Apprentices and Disciples
• Older Brother/Sister – Adepts; fourth level of one of Do’s limbs, and a moral character.
• Sifu – Master
• Sigung – Archmasters
• Bodhisattvas – Oracles

Celestial Chorus

• Catechumen – Apprentice
• Abecedary – Disciple
• Presbyter – Adept
• Exarch – Master
• Preceptor – Mentor

Thanatoic sects/Chakravanti

• Shravaka – apprentices beholden to their mentors.
• Chelas – the second apprentice rank, but able to administer the Good Death.
• Acarya – A Euthanatoi who has completed instruction and may take students of their own.
• Paramagururs – Masters and Archmasters of the Tradition
• Avataras – Oracles of the Euthanatoi

Order of Hermes

• First Degree: Neophyte – little to no power, testing phase to become accepted as an apprentice
• Second Degree: Zelator – Hedge magic, training towards Awakening
• Third Degree: Practicus – the final test, the end of apprenticeship
• Fourth Degree: Initiate – full membership after achieving the first rank in Forces (and first in House Sphere if applicable)
• Fifth Degree: Initiate Exemptus – achieving the second rank in any Sphere
• Sixth Degree: Adeptus – Achievement of the third rank in any Sphere, and first rank in any other Sphere
• Seventh Degree: Adeptus Maior – Achievement of the fourth rank in any Sphere, the third in another Sphere, and first rank in any other Sphere
• Eighth Degree: Magister Scholae – Full mastery of one Sphere, as well as the third rank in two others
• Ninth Degree: Magister Mundi – Achievement of Archmastery in one Sphere
• Tenth Degree: Oracle – Achievement of Oracleship

Society of Ether

• Student/Assistant
• Scientist
• Professor
• Doctor
• Master Scientist

You see, there is one very important lesson that, as a mage, you will have to learn. Many of our Order’s so-called teachers have learned this lesson very well. Never, ever teach anything that will give someone an advantage over you.
– Marjorie Prince bani Xaos (deceased)

A mage’s rank is determined by their level of your magickal advancement.

It should be noted that until the Reckoning it was very unusual for anyone less than a Master to hold most positions with any power or influence. An Adept would sometimes be in the position of teaching and mentoring, but in most instances that is all. The Council of Nine was once only made up of Archmages; however, that is no longer the case these days. There is only a single, recently (and reluctantly) acknowledged Archmage on the current Council of Nine and several who were Adepts before their election. They are now often referred to as ‘Masters’ as a sign of respect, although more than few mages consider this a dangerous sign of individual personality cults eroding old ways.

There is little correlation between rank and the ‘Founder’ of a Chantry. An endless array of circumstances, opportunities (missed or otherwise) and needs have given rise to them. There is only one constant: Those with the will to found a Chantry often have the discipline and motivation to excel in magickal studies as well.

When you first Awaken, you are brought into mage society as an Apprentice. You are run through the fundamentals (over and over), and generally play assistant to other mages. This can be boring, depending on the mage. You might get to actually do some magick, but more than likely, you’re doing grunt work while you learn the basics.

Once you learn the basics, though, you become an Initiate. This is the rank most people associate with the beginning mage. You have the fundamental down in theory; You’re working on applying them now, which means you do assist more in magickal workings and you do get to practice in various arenas. You also seek out, or are sought out by, a teacher. This is an important time, because you have to prove yourself to your potential teachers and prove you have a place in your Tradition.

Once you secure teaching and acceptance into your Tradition, you generally attain the rank of Disciple. You have passed the important formative years. Now you are in the years where that formation takes shape. This is the time that your magick and your path really begin to shape themselves out. It is not uncommon to remain at the level of a Disciple for many years – and along with Initiates, it represents the overwhelming majority of mage society. There of course the golden children, prodigies such as the infamous Heylel Teomim, or several of the current Primus who breezed through this stage while relatively young. It depends on the mage.

A Disciple who has proven themselves proficient in their magicks attains the rank of Adept. Adepts who are members of a Chantry will either find other duties within the Chantry where their intermediate magicks are needed, or they will make their way in the world, using the lessons they’ve learned in the Chantry. Some seek to unite unaffiliated Cabals into new Chantries. These travelling Adepts are what are commonly called Journeyman. This is the time when you prove your ability to handle great personal responsibility. Your initial learning stages are long since at an end, and you are beginning to discover who you really are. This is the time at which you get noticed for good or ill, and it will shape how you interact with the world for the rest of your life.

A mage who has further both advanced their magickal knowledge considerably and earned a reputation for themselves will eventually be accorded the rank of Master. There is, sadly, an element of politics as to who is considered a Master or not. It is not acknowledged simply from having a Sphere or Arete at 5, even if it should be. It takes a certain measure of personal authority, charisma or at least the capacity to intimidate other Masters into acknowledging it. These mages are often teachers and (if not a recluse) virtually always hold positions of leadership and power within a Chantry. It is the most ambitious of these mages that go on to compete for a seat on the Council itself. In the old days, that could make for astonishingly deadly intrigue.

Archmage is the highest attainable rank (it is debated if Oracles are Ascended Archmages or not). These mages are now extremely rare, especially since the destruction of Doissetep and the fall of Concordia. These mages are the exalted elders and are often granted a great deal of respect based simply on their rank. It is the rare surviving Archmage who is unheard of. It seems that most of the Archmages who survived from before the Reckoning were of the more humble and reclusive sort – and are now even more reluctant to be drawn into an Ascension War they see no hope of winning anymore, and which has already annihilated their more powerful and ambitious peers. There are exceptions, but not many. Perhaps that is for the best.

Ultimately, rank determines how much power you wield, not just magickally, but politically as well. Political influence can gain a lot for you — allies, supplies, knowledge, even safety. Learning to use political influence can even save your life. Learning to deal fairly with allies and diplomatically with enemies can be the difference between your success or your failure.

This is how characters in-universe often imagine how their life path as a mage might progress:

Okay, let me lay things out to you this way.

My name is Al. I’m this little newly-Awakened mage. Larry and his Cabal find me. Lee Ann takes me under her wing and shows me the ropes. Because I’m newly initiated into magick (i.e. newly Awakened), I’m called an Apprentice. We won’t go into the vulgars on this one.

After a while, Lee Ann and Larry decide I’m ready to meet my Tradition. I’ve got an idea what day it is. Maybe they find me a Chantry to join even.

Through her mortal contacts, Lee Ann tracks down the Marat (non-magickal go-betweens and messengers) of a Chantry. Smart mages are paranoid, so this might not be very easy at all. Once she finds the Chantry, the Sentinels, who guard the Chantry, are probably the first ones to encounter us. We will not always encounter them, at least not realizing it. Some of them are extremely subtle. If, for instance, I am being taken to a Cult of Ecstasy Chantry or a Hollow One Chantry, the Sentinel that we encounter we might simply perceive as a normal club-goer (I’ve not been to an Ecstatic Chantry yet with Lee Ann that wasn’t in some kind of club or brothel or similar).

Once within the Chantry itself, a Tutor or a Fellow designated to greet newbies will meet us. Generally, it will be an unAwakened Acolyte that we meet first, though, who will determine the purpose of our visit. If I pass the sniff test, the Chantry’s elders test me, and decide that I am ready to learn. I get accepted into the Chantry and become an Initiate. That is my Rank, and demonstrates my magickal proficiency.

As an Initiate, I get to secure learning and a place in the Chantry. I got in, but I still have to prove I have a place. When I do prove myself, I become a Disciple. My title is that of Fellow, technically, but because I’m a new Disciple, I get called a Student. This is because many of the established Fellows do not want to be equated with the “children.” It is completely a matter of status. As a Disciple, I have to learn and improve my magick. Tutors teach and guide me and the other Disciples. Sometimes learning can be quite the experience as the Chantry’s Counselor or Priest will sometimes be in disagreement about what lessons are important.

As a Student and a Fellow, I will be given duties to perform. Don’t get hopeful. These are rarely glamorous, are often grueling, and rarely have any real responsibility. The key to them, generally, is to keep Students from becoming idle and causing mischief. As a side note, it is usually not successful. One of the first things you learn is how to pawn your chores off on newer Students, Initiates, and even Apprentices.

Cabals within the Chantry are watching me. If I’m useful, I will get invited to join one. If I’m unique, I might have a couple vying for my membership. This can range from gifts to favors, although a few will switch to darker tactics like intimidation or undermining each other. If I’m a threat or useless, they may harass me. If I’m lucky, though, they’ll just ignore me. If things get difficult, or I simply don’t want to join any established Cabal, I may team up with other newbies and start my own.

I’ve studied. I’ve worked. I’ve improved. Now, I have to prove myself. Once I do, I become an Adept. At this point, I may get duties within the Chantry or without that have real responsibilities. I may be a Herald for the Chantry. I might even run Sentinel watches. Depending, I may even begin teaching new Students. I won’t likely be called a Tutor, though. That is a title usually reserved for a Teacher who has either a lot of tenure, or has achieved the rank of Master. That, by the way, is an important note. You see, once upon a time, a Master would have been insulted to have the same title as an Adept. Again, it is all politics.

Here’s another important note. Disciples will sometimes be given the same duties as Adepts. When they do, though, they rarely gain the title associated with it. Also, they rarely have the same responsibility. They generally answer to another mage, who in turn answers to the Chantry’s leadership. Think of it this way: I’m teaching a class at a college. I can have an intern from the college, who is not one of my students. I can also choose a student to assist me. The intern is going to be answerable to me, but he’s probably going to also be directly answerable to the college too. The student, though, is answerable directly to me, and if he does something, I have to answer to the college. Chantries that do give Disciples titles are generally either new and small, or desperate.

Now, an Adept may stay in the Chantry, or he may do things outside the Chantry. Such non-resident Fellows are called Journeymen. They can be as vital to the Chantry, but there will often be tensions between them and the resident Fellows. One result is the fact that a Journeyman is never called a Fellow, even though he’s still a member.

Once you’re around the rank of Adept, you may become more deeply involved with your Tradition’s politics. This may lead to interactions with the Council of Nine or its officers. Once, it was unthinkable for an Adept to seek an officer’s position. These days, there are allowances for outstanding (or simply very popular) exceptions.

When I’ve further advanced my magicks, I may one night become a Master. If I’m a Fellow, I will either be a leader or a Tutor. If the Chantry is large enough that there is no place for me, then I will either talk to the elders about branching off into a sister Chantry, becoming a Founder (this can be a good thing for Chantries to do, because you are usually guaranteed an ally Chantry).

A mage deeply involved in council politics — generally called a Niner in vulgar terms — upon reaching Master, may vie for position and title. He can lobby his Tradition for a seat on the Council — assuming there is either a vacancy or the present mage is not an Archmage. He can also lobby the council to become a Voice or Hand. Good luck.

Archmages are generally asked what position they would like to hold. Not all will become or seek to be a Primus. Some find their callings not as Founders of mere Chantries, but of entire sub-sect or faction within their Tradition. Politically speaking, being one of these is not for the faint of heart. Be careful that you can finish what you begin.

Finally, a Solitary — that is a mage who is not a member of a Chantry (though he may still be part of a Cabal) rises through the ranks and titles a little differently. How quickly he rises depends on his ability and how much resistance he encounters. It is generally a rough and unkind road, though it is considerably better to be within one of the formalized Traditions than without, such as a Hollow One or Orphan.

For centuries, the Council operated along top-down lines:

• Nine Primi – personal representatives for the Traditions – met in Horizon, specifically within the Council stronghold of Concordia, providing the official governance for the Council as a whole.

• Chantries and Horizon Realms provided homes for the various mages and acolytes within the Traditions. Some, like Doissetep, were ancient and powerful, and others, like Spy’s Demise in the Digital Web, provided new blood or clandestine intel. Each Chantry had at least one cabal or council that ran the place, although some of the larger ones were plagued with vicious rivalries for the leadership position. Most Chantries had at least a tangential connection to Nodes and Realms, and although many favored a particular environment, group, or viewpoint, the vast majority of them provided common ground for members of various Traditions.

• Cabals formed within those Chantries, united by friendship, oaths, or common cause. Each cabal became a self-contained unit but usually answered – in turn – to the leaders of its Chantry, the Traditions of its members, and the Horizon Council that governed them all.

When Horizon and the powerful Chantries fell, the smaller Chantries and cabals were left largely to their own discretion. For better and worse, each cabal or Chantry wound up governing itself. With each mage and cabal becoming a law unto itself, the old hierarchies became meaningless. Only ideals and, yes, traditions kept the entire concept alive.

As one might expect, the old hierarchies featured plenty of abuse. Powerful wizards literally got away with murder, and their younger or less powerful compatriots caught the brunt of punishment. However, the democratic ideals of the 19th and 20th centuries (along with the abuses that fostered them) undermined a lot of those original hierarchies, and the Council’s setbacks around the turn of the millennium took out most of the rest.

During the early 2000s, the Traditions operated in a state of near-anarchy, observing the old protocols only as far as individual mages or cabals could enforce them. After a rather turbulent internecine period, the surviving mages pulled together a structure that, in theory, mixes the best elements of the old Council with necessary reforms and an eye toward the future, rather than old burdens from the past. Finally, in 2009, a majority of mages from each Tradition had come together to form a New Horizon Council, five years after the declaring their intent at the 2004 Los Angeles Convocation.

	Cabal	Chantry	Council
DESCRIPTION	* This is the basic societal structure and the heart of Mage society as a whole. * Size varies from three members to the low teens. * Contains the simplest of political interactions. More advanced forms, such as espionage and backstabbing, are rare.	* Consists of either members of the same Tradition and/or two or more Cabals. * More advanced political interactions presented. * Rivalries between Cabals more apparent. Espionage and political/literal backstabbing witnessed.	* Highest societal interaction. * Generally centers around the Council of Nine. * Politics at this level can be deadly - caution is advised.
LEADERSHIP	* Usually Democracy or Monitarian (economic self-interest) * Often, leadership by a single strong personality (wherein the cabal usually fragments after the leader's death or departure). * Sometimes led by personal power. * May have a 'glue', 'hidden' or 'behind the scenes' leader based on influence instead of personal power.	* Democracy, either where all members participate equally or are given greater weight according to rank (such as teachers) * Pedagogical Rule, where the Chantry is ruled by a single Magus, whether elected or won through personal might. They might be a real power or a paper tiger. * Deacon Council, where the Chantry is governed by a council of its most accomplished and respected mages, who in turn often elect a 'chairman' figure to represent them as a whole. At its best, considered by most to achieve the right balance between democracy, experience and authority. At its worst, see Doissetep. * Triumvirate, a system that essentially works out where the leader of each Cabal rules in concert with the leaders of other Cabals, without any cross-input between them among their members.	* Council of Nine - Chosen from among the Nine Traditions, they oversee mage society in general. * Currently embodied in the New Horizon Council, which took nearly a decade of concerted action, the assistance of the Sphinx and the coup of the Los Angeles Convocation to finally assert their authority over a majority of the Traditions.
POSITIONS	* May have a 'den mother' type who watches over newly Awakened and helps them get adjusted. * Larger Cabals may also have a separate person to lead rituals and studies. Sometimes called Priests, Prelates, Ritemasters, Elocutors or countless other variations. * Custos - an old term for unAwakened allies and confederates of the cabal who are 'in the know' and who provide direct support. May also refer to consors, companions, familiars or hedge wizards. * Runners - essentially mortal couriers who run errands for the Cabal or perform other minor support duties. They are unlikely to be 'in the know'. Sometimes called 'Pigeons' or 'Angels'. * Most Cabals develop a unique set of positions and responsibilities to meet their highly varied and unique needs.	* Deacon — Title for the founder of a Chantry. Always Awakened. ALSO: Founder, Lord, etc. * Chancellor — member of council (assuming a council in the Chantry). Always Awakened. May also lead large rituals and have approval-rights over smaller rituals. * Counselor or Priest — Sees to the psychological or spiritual needs of the Chantry. Not always Awakened, depending on their age, experience and personal relationships. * Tutor — name for teachers within the Chantry. Depending on the subject, they may or may not be Awakened, such as a 'Master of Arms' who teaches swordsmanship or a 'dancing instructor', etc. ALSO: Mentor, Pedagogue, Preceptor, etc. * Justice / Exactor — Oversee discipline hearings in the Chantry and helps enforce those decisions. The Justice is always Awakened. An Exactor could be anyone capable of realistically assisting them. * Fellow — General member of the Chantry who is below rank of Adept, or possibly a hedge wizard still striving to Awaken their potential. ALSO: Student, Acolyte, Abecedary, etc. * Journeyman — Member of the Chantry who is generally a non-resident. They're often either an Awakened Adept or an old and extremely accomplished hedge wizard. * Herald - A messenger for the Chantry, if Awakened. Marat if a mortal go-between or official courier. * Sentinel - Guardian of the chantry, who may or may not be Awakened (often Companions). ALSO: Guardian, Watcher, Scout, Bouncer, etc...Too numerous to list. * Librarian - A keeper of lore for the Chantry, who may or may not be Awakened. ALSO: Archivist, Researcher, Analyst, Lorekeeper, Scholar, etc. * General servants - Consors, cultists, robots and employees, etc.	* Primus - An elected member of the Council of Nine. (The New Horizon Council has decreed that each Primus must be elected - rejecting the old ways of powerful Archmage engaging in Certamen.) * Voice - Chief Herald/Messenger of the council, combined with powers of enforcement. A Voice requires an unanimous consensus to either receive or be stripped of their mandate. * Hand - Chosen by the Council to investigate crimes, occasionally render judgement on the spot (when specifically instructed by the Council or its Voice) and 'execute' its decisions. This might include death, though never Gilgul (that can only be performed by the Primus themselves.) * Even now, the New Horizon Council is debating which titles from the 'old way' of doing things on Concordia should be kept, and which should be updated. Since every decision affecting the Council itself requires unanimous accord (and not every Primus elected by their Tradition, is the individual who the rest might prefer to be working with), this has been slow going. * Prodigy - Obsolete. Once an especially gifted or talented Adept, chosen as a special assistant to a Primus. A couple of the current sitting Primi were an Archmage's 'Prodigy' at one time. It is now associated with the nepotism of the old masters, and is thus considered a good way to get shanked, magickally, verbally or otherwise.
POLITICS	* Mostly centers around cooperation. * Pecking order defined simply, sometimes with good-natured challenges. * More serious problems tend to result in members leaving the Cabal and thus either imploding or self-correcting.	* Rivalries between Cabals. * Frequent political maneuvering for rank and positions. * Dueling not unheard of, even potentially to the death over serious matters. * Where Cabal members are in Leadership, manipulation of other Cabal members to control them is not uncommon.	* Politicking to gain the favor of the Council or be chosen for the Council is intense. * Bribery and corruption is an ever-present concern, given the fate of the old Council. * Assassinations are often related to politics at this level, although the New Horizon Council vows to have moved beyond the ugly intrigue of the past.

Whether it results from living in the same city, going to the same clubs or being stranded together in an isolated geographical location, it is easily argued that most Tradition mages associate together due to proximity rather than any ideological training. Such mixed groups draw strength from common backgrounds and common struggles. For example: During the recent isolation of the Russian willworkers by Baba Yaga’s Shadow Curtain, those mages unaligned to the demon hag bonded together not only out of fear, but also because only those who had grown up in the region could understand the trials it represented.

The experiences of the Russian willworkers were not unique. Mages often have an easier time understanding fellow mages from the same neighborhood, state or country than they ever will have understanding foreign mages of the same Tradition. Unfortunately, while perhaps the most common reason for cross-tradition alliances, these reasons may also be the least enduring. As anyone who has observed small town politics knows, even locals are more than happy to turn on one another when no other foe presents itself. Consider the case of World War II: Mages of the same tradition were at one another’s throats on opposite sides of the war. Japanese Akashics killed their Chinese colleagues while German Sons of Ether fought their American allies. Cultural identity is a more powerful formative factor than magical tradition because it impinges upon the mage’s life in more ways.

In addition to cultural and national touchstones, mages are often just as affected by their religious upbringing. While the founders of the Council of Traditions felt they had designed the most effective division of philosophies, time has proven otherwise. Alliances form among members of Sleeper religions or among those who disagree with how the Council runs things. Not all staunch Christians are members of the Chorus. There are Hermetic, Virtual Adept, Etherite and even Dreamspeaker Christians. As a result, it is not uncommon to find bands of mixed Tradition mages who gather behind a religious banner rather than a Tradition banner. There are also groups of rebels within the Council who seek to reshape the Tradition into some new configuration. They argue, perhaps rightfully so, that the practices of the past led to the loss of the Ascension War. If such bonds can gain enough strength, who knows what shape reality will take in the future?

Education is a double-bladed sword as a reason for alliance. In this modern day, mages need to learn wherever and from whomever they can. If this means studying at the feet of a mage of another Tradition, so be it. At the same time, there is every day a greater urgency to find and train the newly Awakened before the Technocracy can get their steel probes into them. These education-based groups range from occult self-help groups to the Charleston Private Academy, an isolated estate dedicated to the protection and education of Council mages, not necessarily mages of any one Tradition. Unfortunately, such groups require stable meeting places, which in turn represent a weakness to the groups. If your members can find you, so can your enemies. Only the strongest and most well defended cross-Tradition educational organizations have any chance of surviving.

By combining forces and cross-pollinating, some mages seek to counteract the failings of their parent organizations. This often has much less to do with magickal rotes and spells, and far more with personal matters:

An Ecstasy cultist and Euthanatos working together may see the other entering a dangerous spiral, where a member of the same organization may not recognize the symptoms. The Euthanatos might recognize the Cultist’s over-dependence on some substance or practice and call him on it when another Cultist might not see anything wrong with it. Similarly, the Cultist might be able to draw the Euthanatos back to humanity when the killer becomes a little too obsessive, while another Euthanatos might merely applaud the fallen mage’s drive.

Similarly, a Virtual Adept frustrated with his Tradition’s lack of respect for the past might turn to mages whose training has tradition at its core. A Verbena might teach that Adept about the value of the natural rhythm of life while learning the place that technology holds in that same rhythm from her student. An Akashic Brother could teach and learn from both. The Brother could learn about all aspects of the Western world from these mismatched allies, while teaching his allies about the Zen philosophies and histories of the Eastern world. Together, this unlikely trio would gain a fuller understanding of the world around them than they would gain from their respective traditions, or alone. Further, with that greater understanding, they would better be able to fulfill their personal responsibilities.

Similar to ideology, some mages may find themselves working together through the process of pursuing their individual goals. Willworkers who seek to change reality through force (by taking the battle to the Technocrats) often accept others who are equally militant, regardless of their background. As a unit these warriors can be more effective than any number of mages of a single faction or Tradition.

Similarly, a team of Chaoticians, members of House Fortunae and Lhaksmists might eventually begin traveling together after repeatedly running into each other in the world’s major gambling houses. As long as their goals coincide and their efforts are successful, such alliances are likely to continue — through social inertia, if for no other reason. On the other hand, once disagreements or failure begin, these groups tend to fall apart quickly, or they at least splinter, only to re-form with different members and a new agenda.

As much as it annoys the older and most hidebound Traditionalists, mages often find themselves allied due to the effects of technology. In a world where there are cameras, smartphones and Wi-Fi almost everywhere, a mage can’t help but be suddenly much more aware of everything outside of her own little burgh. Alliances may form between mages of different Traditions who would have never known that the other existed in the past. Bonds may initially form through text messages, video conference and social media flirtations or else through Ether-based wireless PDAs and Hermetically-augmented mainframes buried in forgotten caverns. Ironically, if these groups survive their initial face-to-face meetings (always a coin flip), they can be among the strongest Cabals.

Mages gather together for reasons of common political or social goals even more often than for religious coherence in the modern age. Mages are as divided on certain topics such as political or environmental activism or the merits of big business just as Sleepers are.

Political manipulation is a favorite hobby. Willworkers manipulate all sides and levels of the election process. Mages of several traditions, including Choristers and Hermetics, provide funding to their parties and candidates of choice. Akashics often maneuver themselves close to personalities they feel strongly about, to act as guardians, advisors and gurus. Some mages, particularly Cultists and Euthanatos, are even more brazen, subtly (or sometimes not so subtly) adjusting election results for their own purposes. A common political objective can bring a Chantry together like few other motivations… yet just as quickly shatter it if it takes priority.

Far more commonly by 2020, such activism is subtler, and more effective. Whether it is Virtual Adepts and Ecstasy Cultists working together against Internet reform laws or House Fortunae and Lhaksmist mages attempting to shift international banking laws, willworkers typically start in the same way their Sleeping colleagues do. Using the relative anonymity of the Internet, critical posts are made for or against potential laws. A subtle influx of magick ensures that the right people read these posts. For those mages who have the financial means, lobbyists represent a more direct approach. Others gather Sleepers together to form action groups, often acting as advisors rather than leaders. For every goal that Sleepers find to bring people together, mages have at least as many or more.

With so many reasons to form alliances, how powerful must a common goal be to forge a lasting relationship? Fairly powerful, for mages are individuals just as Sleepers are. Most alliances that form for such political reasons end up sub-fractioning and losing influence — at least until the next big thing comes along.

Not all such goals arise from the Sleeper world: While the oldest Master mages have died or been sidelined since the Reckoning (especially given how the Avatar Storm played havoc with longevity spells…), enough remain to make strongly worded suggestions to lesser members of their Traditions. Enigmatic wisdom is as likely to guide such ‘suggestions’, as may petty politics or selfish ambition. These Cabals & Chantries, unfortunately, while initially very effective, tend not to last beyond the loss of strong personalities or the completion of a pre-assigned task.

Another source of direction is from the New Horizon Council, which after a decade of political consolidation and progress made on its New Horizon Colony in New Zealand, have finally begun to occasionally impose their will on Chantries (and even remaining Masters) that had grown more accustomed to perfect autonomy since the Reckoning.

Considered to be common sense, this Protocol is based on the idea that knowledge is both value and power.

A Tutor’s View: “Many take offense at this, claiming that the antiquated use it to mean elder, and ignore all others. I beg to differ. Yes, with age comes knowledge, but the greatest knowledge does sometimes come with youth. At our own Chantry, we work much with children to encourage their curiosity and their desire to learn.”

The Reality: Most young mages have enough sense to follow this rule, just because those who have greater knowledge also often have greater powers. Some few loose cannons disobey this dictum, but they rarely last long; knowledge very much is power in magickal society.

In the Hermetic Tradition, teachers expect regular tuition in exchange for their time and expertise. Other groups handle things differently, but any student is expected to pay his or her debts. A pupil or apprentice who doesn’t honor those agreements is suspended from the program; if he ditches out without paying for the things he’s gained and gets caught doing it, that student has his Avatar Branded. From that point onward, no reputable Tradition mage will teach the former pupil.

A Hermetic’s View: “You don’t get something for nothing. A single mage, or a Chantry, invests a lot of time in teaching you, and sometimes energy and resources. If they give you work to do to repay, do it, otherwise ask. It is polite. It is also a way to keep your ass out of the fire. I would be real suspicious of any mage or Chantry that was going to take a lot of time and energy to teach me and not ask for anything in return.”

The Reality: Many young apprentices learn all they can and then set out on their own. Not all mentor-student relations end peaceably. Some renegades have taken to challenging their tutors to certamen and claiming that, if they are victorious, they are obviously superior and owe no debt. Unscrupulous tutors keeping their students in bondage are a lesser problem, simply because other students are less likely to come to such a teacher and peer pressure from other mages makes it difficult to mistreat one’s apprentices without suffering through some sort of investigation from the Traditions as a whole, and risking having the apprentice taken by another mage.

Yes, wizards lie. Breaking formal oaths, however, is a serious matter. Without a stern Protocol to enforce such agreements, the Traditions would’ve fallen apart ages ago. More importantly, an oath is considered an act of magick in itself; to violate one disrespects the Arts. Liars tend to be shunned if and when they get caught. Oathbreakers are often Branded, even in the more permissive new millennium.

A Choruser’s View: “Hubris is a very real threat to mages. I’ve seen some fall to pride, and it is not pretty. I’ve also seen one common trait. They have a screwed up sense of Honor. The tenets of that honor vary, but one thing remains the same: they almost always do something to break a vow.”

The Reality: Mages realize that vows have a very real weight of Fate behind them. Breaking a sworn vow can often mark a mage in ways that can be detected with Entropy magics. Just in very real terms, mages who often break their word don’t garner much trust. Of course, there are grifters in the real world, and some mages aren’t worth the paper their words are printed upon. Other mages may well be overly idealistic suckers, waiting for a promising ally who later betrays them. Still, pulling the wool over the eyes of someone with magical means of detecting trustworthiness can be difficult, so only very, very crafty mages can break this rule regularly and get away with it. Typically, mages aren’t punished for violation — other mages just won’t work with or trust them, a form of unspoken Ostracism.

Yeah, right. Beyond the fact that few modern mages even believe that Oracles exist, this Protocol begs a simple question: what if that Oracle’s an asshole? The Hermetic records clearly state that Oracular commands must be followed, but that law seems outdated – even dangerous – in the current age. Although Censure is the official punishment for disloyalty, it’s been over a century since the last recorded punishment for this sort of disobedience.

A Chantry Counselor’s View: “I know a lot of you don’t believe in Oracles. Maybe they exist, maybe they don’t. Maybe they used to but faded away with the Myths. Maybe they’re locked away in the places mages can’t get to anymore. Whatever the case — look — Oracles, they’re supposed to be very powerful and very wise. If one exists, and it decides to speak to you, then shouldn’t you heed it?”

A Young Initiate’s View: “A lot of Orphans and Hollow Ones claim that this Protocol is nothing more than a way for powerful mages to exact control. They claim that anything as powerful as an Oracle should be powerful enough to exact its own punishments if it is disobeyed. Why then should we worry?”

A Chantry Counselor’s Response: “Hmm, well, I would dare say because ignorance is no excuse?”

The Reality: Since the Oracles almost never intervene in worldly affairs in this Age, how can a mage heed them? If an Oracle did show up, it’s questionable whether or not anyone would recognize it in this day and age. Still, ideally, an Oracle is a harbinger of Ascension. If an Oracle tells you to do something, it’s probably for a good, enlightened reason, right? So “follow along and see what you get out of it” tends to be the typical attitude — at least, among those who’ve even heard of Oracles

This might be the Council’s most unforgiveable sin. A mage who betrays her fellows is Branded, Ostracized, and very often killed.

An Old Deacon’s View: “Once upon a time, your Cabal and Chantry were the only ones you could count on. Everywhere you turned the tides of Reason were sweeping across the land, posing threats to your very existence. The Technocracy was stamping out the mystics, one by one. Anyone not of your Cabal or Chantry could betray you at any time. Even in the Dark Ages, when fear gripped and a Magick-phobic church was influencing the minds of men, you had to be careful. So, how much more potent is it today? War or no war, you don’t betray those who will become like brothers to you.”

The Reality: Depends on what constitutes “betrayal.” Plenty of mages will just up and leave when they tire of a given group, or they will butt heads with interpersonal politics or exhaust the resources they wanted to exploit. On the other hand, actually selling out your friends to someone who’ll kill them? Well… it happens, but it’s not all that common. Generally, those who sell out a Cabal or Chantry have nowhere to go: The enemy won’t take them in, but they also can’t go back to their former friends. Typically, this sort of betrayal happens only in three sorts of instances: When someone’s defected to another side; when someone holds a fatal grudge and just has to fill it; or when someone’s trying to make a huge, terrible point in the fashion of Heylel Teomim.

This is perhaps the second most serious offense, although “conspiring” and “enemy” are open to interpretation. Crisis makes for strange bedfellows, especially considering that the Sons of Ether and Virtual Adepts owe their membership to such conspiracies. Still, a mage who knowingly puts his companions at risk by dealing with the enemy can be Censured, Branded, and even Ostracized. If the enemy in question is a Nephandus, the penalty could be Gilgul, death, or occasionally both. As far as many Tradition members are concerned, this is the whole point of their organization. If every wizard has free rein to exploit the Sleepers, the Council’s ideals are a sham. Most Council mages protect innocent people; those who don’t do so… or who actively endanger them… tend to be shunned, Censured, or possibly worse.

An Embittered Virtual Adept’s View: “All right, you’ve heard the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Well, just because the Technocracy is fighting a Marauder or a Nephandi is not a reason to help them. See, it is also true that the enemy of my friend is my enemy. Sure, you’ll be working for a common goal. Yeah, I know that we’re not actually at war anymore. Do you really think, though, that that is going to keep them from carting you off and brainwashing you the first chance that they get? Don’t be stupid here. War or not, there are some set patterns to our dealings with the Technocracy. If you’re stupid enough to work with a Marauder, or lost enough to work with a Nephandi, well…”

The Reality: In practice, mages make and break alliances of convenience with startling regularity. The Traditions allied with the Technocracy during World War II, after all. Since many low-ranking Technocrats seem amenable to limited allegiances, mages sometimes find enough common ground to work briefly with them, although it rarely seems to end well. This also applies to vampires and other agencies that harm humanity. Mages are a hungry lot when it comes to supernatural knowledge and power, though. Just witness the Second Massasa War, where some of the Tytalans sold out their brothers for vampiric power.

As far as many Tradition members are concerned, this is the whole point of their organization. If every wizard has free rein to exploit the Sleepers, the Council’s ideals are a sham. Most Council mages protect innocent people; those who don’t do so… or who actively endanger them… tend to be shunned, Censured, or possibly worse.

A Sahijiya Disciple’s View: “What this means is simple. Don’t hate the world because it hates you. Humanity just does and likes what reality tells it to do and like. Humanity knows no better. Isn’t that what Ascension is all about? Getting them to wake up and decide for themselves, instead of letting a consensus reality decide? Wait until they really are making their own decisions, then be miffed if they hate you. Hmm, am I saying that it will be okay to break this some day? No. What I’m saying is that one day, it won’t matter.”

The Reality: Awakening doesn’t cause you to forget all of your grudges. Hell, quite a few mages go back to “settle up accounts” with people they knew before, using their magic as an edge. Petty, perhaps, but oh so satisfying. Also, while taking the high road may be noble, it’s not always practical. Are you gonna protect some cop who’s trying to shoot you because he’s ignorant of your crusade? Hell no!

Another common sense rule. Some folks obey this one more than others do, but given the prevalence of monitoring technology, video cameras, cell phones, and the dreaded YouTube post, a flashy wizard’s basically writing her own death warrant.

A Young Dreamspeaker Shaman’s View: “I’m okay with this, so long as it is not frivolous. It’s only bad when others find out because you did something so outlandish that everyone just knows it was magick. Anyhow, I’ve heard mages say that as long as this is followed, humanity will not Awaken.”

A Chakravanti Mercenary’s View: “You don’t have to look into the sun to see its light, nimrod. Being all flashy and ‘here Paradox and enemies, here I am, with innocents to boot’ is no way to bring the Ascension. One unsubtle mage draws down Technocracy goons, Paradox spirits and even spiteful Sleeper attention. Oh yeah, let’s be honest: It’s not just the Sleepers we’re worried about. Maybe five hundred years ago the possibility of a witch hunt meant concealing arts from the Sleepers. Today, it’s a matter of keeping it under wraps so that some mean-ass cybernetic sumbitch doesn’t pop up and cap your ass with a Primium bullet.”

A Chantry Sentinel’s View: “Well, most mages are too Paradox-shy to actually violate this sucker. The problem stems from those stupid few who pick the wrong ways to go about doing this. You know the types. Showing off spells on cable access, or on the subway, or in a restaurant, or in a room full of vampires. Morons. They make life difficult for everyone.”

The Reality: The part of this ruling that most young mages have difficulty with (there are precious few old mages unwise enough to not adhere to it), is that it seems to run counter to the Council’s stated goal of bringing magick to all people. If everyone’s supposed to have equal access to magick, why hide it away? Why make people even less likely to believe?

The answer again comes down to politics. The Traditions do want a magickal world, but that means taking careful steps toward that world. A deranged mage who creates massive magical disturbances will draw down the quick and deadly wrath of the Technocracy, who’ll wipe out his achievements with media spin doctoring while they stick him in Room 101. A unified group of subtle mages who teach a few people secrets here and there have a better chance to avoid notice and to make small, incremental changes — grassroots magikcal conversion, if you will.

Current Council justice is both simpler and more complex now than it has been in its previous forms. The product of modern ideals and logistics, it’s no longer ruled by the whims and memories of ancient Archmasters. Yet at the same time, it is trying to assert a legitimacy that depends more on the raw, terrifying power of an Archmage to enforce. Times change, and the Traditions struggle to change with them. And so, although many terms and sentences are based in medieval (and usually Hermetic) foundations, the applications of justice reflect modern realities, not medieval ones.

For the most part, Chantries and Traditions govern their own people. If a solitary Verbena witch or lone cabal gets out of hand, it’s Verbena elders, not the Council as a whole, who’ll be expected to deal with and determine what to do with her. Even within a Chantry, it is expected that a mage’s own cabal will handle them before it ever get s that far. It is only when cabal, Chantry and even Tradition leaders have failed, that justice is sought from the Council of Nine itself.

For serious matters, Tradition mages will call for either a Hearing Tribunal, a Council Tribunal, or a Bloc Tribunal.

• A Hearing Tribunal handles internal Chantry or Tradition matters. The parties involved all come from the same Chantry or Tradition involved, unless there’s a compelling reason to include an outside witness, expert, judge or advocate. Resolution, in this case, follows the customs of that Tradition; Verbena justice, for instance, is liable to be rather harsh, rooted in Nature and the Old Ways, while Virtual Adept justice probably involves mockery, shunning, and a Brand of LAME on the offender’s virtual icon. Every Chantry handles such matters a little differently depending on their organizing structure (see Ranks, Titles & Politics above), although one constant remains: The Chantry or cabal’s ability to rein in the excesses of its individual members while maintaining coherence and harmony as a group is what will principally decide its long-term success or dissolution.

• A Council Tribunal addresses matters that affect the Traditions as a whole. If a member of one Tradition harms someone from a different Tradition who comes from a different cabal or Chantry, then representatives from various groups gather to decide what to do about it. Composed of representatives from whichever cabal, Tradition or Chantry can attend, this meeting uses every tool at its disposal to get the information necessary to render a fair and informed judgment. In the old days, a Council Tribunal involved at least one representative from each Tradition. The attrition suffered during the Reckoning has made this protocol somewhat impractical, although some respected member of each Tradition will at least try to make a remote appearance via astral projection, clairsentience, or a simple yet reliable technology: phones, IMs, webchat, and so forth. It isn’t always possible though, which has created many problems in terms of defending the legitimacy of rendered judgements.

• A Bloc Tribunal requires the presence of at least three members of every Tradition. Essentially a large and very formal Council Tribunal summoned by the Horizon Council itself, such gatherings are staged for only the most important reasons – high crimes in all cases, and typically ones where the potential repercussions involve the Council as a whole. There has yet to be one of these in the New Horizon Council era, although an infamous past example was the condemnation and execution of the traitor, Heylel Teomim.

In whichever form they take, Tribunals reflect an essential principle in Council justice: judgment by one’s peers. A mage, in theory, should be judged by other mages – not by Sleepers or other entities, but by people like him who understand, for better and worse, what it is to be Awakened.

Tribunals epitomize this sense of justice, for while a careless or amoral Tradition mage may indeed suffer punishment from cosmic forces like Paradox, from rival factions, or from angry Sleepers, the Council’s ideal form of justice involves other mages deciding the rightness or wrongness of his actions… and, when necessary, deciding his punishment as well.

Given their literally medieval foundations, Tribunals are solemn affairs. Whenever possible, the judges are senior Adept or Master-rank magi with strong reputations for wisdom and fairness. The presentation of evidence typically involves magick, but tampering with that evidence (or with the judges, witnesses or testimonies), especially with magick, is a grave offence whose punishment is likely worse than the one for the original crime.

Justice among the Traditions isn’t always fair and it’s rarely pretty. Mages aren’t infallible, and neither is their justice system. To this end, here is the list of magely assumptions about justice that you’re likely to be confronted with ICly:

• Justice isn’t always fair or impartial in the New Horizon Council era, but it is not always corrupt.
  1. Generally, judicial decisions have some amount of political weight. Justices were once apprentices, too, and they owe their share of favors and have their own skeletons and embarrassments to cover up.
  2. Swaying votes with influence isn’t uncommon. However, Justices also tend to be passionate about their position — they wouldn’t be appointed, otherwise. So, they will sometimes act against their own personal interests in order to see a moral point home.
  3. Most mages have a fair assumption of innocence, but for particularly heinous crimes, the subject may have a lot of work to do to get out from under the system.

• Justice functions with the aid of some magickal techniques, but magickal evidence can be falsified so it is not wholly reliable.
  1. The Traditions rely on testimony, evidence and magic to garner a result. Testimony is the most valid form of address: Mages make their opinions and deductions known, explain their stance and observations, and speak to the motives of crimes or ferret out the truth through reason.
  2. Rank and station plays a big part in this. A Master’s testimony has far more weight than an Apprentice’s — even in a field where the Apprentice is an expert — because the Master is assumed to have a better grasp of mage society and justice in general.
  3. Magickal scrying is next; Time senses and various forms of telepathy and Resonance-scanning can gather much information. However, even magickal sources can be concealed. Because of the possibility of an expert lying or failing in magickal divinations, often only the Justice’s own magickal scrying — or those works that he specifically allows — can be admitted.
  4. Lastly, evidence is taken into account, but since physical evidence can be mundanely tampered with or magickally transformed, it is largely considered circumstantial.

Perhaps one of the most frightening realizations to many Tradition neophytes is the discovery that the Traditions take their work seriously enough to flat-out kill those who get in the way. The Traditions have handed down the sentence of death before, not only on their enemies but also on their members, and they have carried it out. Membership in a Tradition is serious business. If you spill the wrong secrets or just screw up too badly, you could very well wind up losing your life.

Let’s put that in perspective a moment: Consider your job or your schoolwork. If you botch up your classes, you might be expelled. You’d have to get a real job or find a new school. If you screw up on your job, you will probably be fired; again, you go find a new job, with a black mark on your record. If you mess up something important to the safety of people, you might go to jail. You could be fined and punished if your negligence, or just plain bad luck, results in someone’s injury or death.

Contrast with the Traditions: If you let out secrets to someone who shouldn’t know them, even if you didn’t know better, you might be found guilty of violating the Protocols. If you screw up and lose an important Node or Wonder, same thing. Suffer a bad Paradox backlash that harms a bunch of other mages, you know the drill. You are dead. You are killed, returned to the cycle, no more to trouble the world with your hopes and dreams. That’s a harsh punishment.

Unlike the real world’s criminal justice system, you don’t have an appeal. There’s no governor or President to grant you a pardon, no press to sway on your behalf. There’s only an impersonal justice system in the hands of a secret Cabal of conspirators that decides whether you’ve become too dangerous to the conspiracy. Often, Tradition Justices send someone to oversee a death sentence, or they require the capture and removal of the offender to a place where the sentence can be carried out. Too many independent Cabals are just a little too squeamish about the idea of rollicking off to kill a compatriot on the receipt of an impersonal message.

Some old Tradition warriors are all too eager to kill those who cross them, even without a formal Tribunal. In some cases, the victim-to-be may not be easily accessible, so the sentence could come down from “on high” to an otherwise normal Cabal as instructions for the security of the Traditions. What do you do when a letter shows up on your doorstep, telling you and your friends that you have to kill one of your acquaintances for the good of the conspiracy?

There are other considerations as to who lives and dies. A modern mage still has ties to the mundane world, usually. In this instance, having real-world connections and friends offers some protection. Consider: A mage who lives as a hermit in the Umbra won’t be missed if she suddenly disappears. On the flip side, a mage in the real world with a job and a family will most certainly trigger an investigation from all manner of mundane authorities if he suddenly vanishes. Mages might have to break into someone’s home, fight through family and friends, perform all manner of reprehensible acts just to reach the offender. It would be a terrible thing to destroy one’s own chance at Ascension in the act of hunting down a condemned fugitive, however reprehensible their crimes.

Under Tradition law, the following offenses are typically considered ‘low crimes‘ unless the scope of particular infraction – or the parties offended by that activity – make a certain incident more notorious than usual:

• Cowardice (when such fear leads to a greater problem, such as a comrade being captured by enemies because the accused was too scared to prevent the capture);
• Deceit (fraud, lies, misrepresentation, etc);
• Disrespect (acting poorly towards a higher-ranking mage);
• Lameness (especially online misbehavior or in the Digital Web, which is obviously open to very subjective interpretation);
• Laziness (refusing to pull one’s weight around the cabal, Chantry or even one’s Tradition a a whole, which is also a rather subjective charge that’s rarely filed unless the accused has obviously caused significant problems through such behavior);
• Lechery (to the extent that it disrupts the optimal functioning or morale of a cabal or Chantry, without involving actual violation of any person’s body, mind or spirit);
• …And assorted minor acts of Assault, Recklessness, Theft or unwonted Vandalism.

For the most part, a low crime merits minor punishment; Censure/Redemption, Reparations or Talion is usually sufficient. A minor Brand or Service might be appropriate if the specific offense in question caused a notable commotion or embarrassment to their Chantry as a whole.

There are a great many cultural considerations at this level; Certain groups punish minor infractions lightly, if at all, although other apparently small offenses might merit fairly harsh penalties from a group that despises such activity. A Norse Verbena, for example, might be punished horribly for cowardice but slapped on the wrist for disrespect; her Etherite counterpart, on the other hand, might be forgiven that first offense but suffer Reproof for the second.

Some crimes cannot be ignored, especially not when they’re committed by supposedly “enlightened” beings. Where low crimes harm only the mage and her victim (if even that), ‘high crimes’ endanger large numbers of people – possibly a whole Chantry, a Tradition, or the Council itself. These offenses typically merit a Council Tribunal, if only because of the scope of the crime:

• Betrayal (of one’s cabal, Tradition, or the Council as a whole);
• Endangerment (as per Betrayal, although endangering large numbers of Sleepers is also a high crime);
• Diabolism/Infernalism (bargaining with demons or Nephandi, treating such parties as allies or friends rather than as enemies of the most pernicious kind; Hermetic law has longstanding provisions for using demons as servants, but such exceptions are not highly regarded by members of other Traditions);
• Oathbreaking (breaking a formal sworn oath to one’s sect, allies, patrons or companions);
• Murder (willful and unlawful killing of a fellow mage or an innocent Sleeper);
• Violation (rape or other severe sexual, mental or spiritual molestation and abuse);
• …and major acts of Assault, Cruelty, Recklessness, Theft, or outrageous Desecration (that is, offenses with severe personal, material, and /or political repercussions for the entire Chantry or even the Traditions as a whole).

For high crimes, the penalties are predictably harsh – Reparations, Indenture, and Branding at the very least, more often Ostracism, Imprisonment, Interdiction, Death, and in very severe instances perhaps even Gilgul topped off with a death-sentence too (as happened to the infamous Heylel Teomim).

Naturally, a Tribunal takes circumstances into account – especially the “battlefield mentality” involved in a secret war with dangerous enemies. Any mage might potentially wind up with several high crimes on her head after a single altercation with Technocrats or the Fallen, and so the Traditions are forced to take a highly pragmatic view of such situations.

All in all, the days when an Archmage could set up a personal fiefdom and rule over it like a tyrant are officially over. Between the implosion of Doissetep, the uprising against Horizon, the atrocities of post-Reckoning infighting, and so forth, the New Council can’t afford to overlook such extremities again. There’s also not many mages still alive who have anywhere near the sheer power to carve out such domains for themselves. Additionally, the Nine Primi of the New Horizon Council, in contrast to their near demi-god predecessors, are far to conscious of their own fragile legitimacy and authority to not make an example of anyone who tries.

The lightest penalty puts a mage “on parole” until some conditions have been met. Those conditions usually involve formal apologies; reparations to the wronged party; service to the wronged party, his Tradition, or the Council as a whole; or a specific errand that will lift the Censure. Until that point, the Censured mage suffers restrictions on magick, travel and association. Ignoring those restrictions invokes a harsher penalty.

A common penalty in the current age, Redemption essentially Censures the mage and then gives her a chance to redeem herself. Generally, this involves therapy (something old-time mages hadn’t even thought of, but a more familiar practice now given certain millennial idiosyncrasies), followed by chances to atone for the damage done. More severe punishments are held in reserve. If the offender can’t or won’t change her ways, or fails to honor her promises, then stricter measures are enforced.

Typically associated with quests or services, Censure and Redemption sentences combine ideals with practicality. Beyond the obvious compassion and trust involved, such punishments also turn otherwise disruptive mages into assets. The offender’s more dubious talents often play a role in her Redemption duties; a thief might be turned loose to steal things from the Technocracy, a deceiver may be employed as a spy, an aggressive troublemaker could be essentially weaponized against dangerous opponents, and a reckless one might be sent into spots where her carelessness might work to the Council’s advantage.

An ancient judgment that has fallen out of favor with most Traditions (except those most devoted to the Old Ways), Talion is the proverbial “eye for an eye” sentence: You trash a rival’s sanctum, he gets to trash yours; you kill her familiar, she kills yours, and so forth.

This bloody-minded sentence strikes many people as unjust; your familiar, for example, may have had nothing to do with your crime, so why should it be punished? Still, a few hardcore Traditionalists keep this sentence around, if only because of its frightening potential.

A.K.A. “blood money,” the Reparations sentence forces the offender to pay compensation – usually seven times the cost of the crime – to the injured party. Obviously, this has limited utility if the offender doesn’t have the means with which to pay those reparations. Still, this is a popular sentence in the modern world. Most mages these days understand lawsuits, and the Awakened have effective ways of making lawsuit judgments stick.

“Jail time” means little to the Awakened. Any half-decent mage can walk right out of most mortal prisons. Unless the Tribunal has easy access to a Horizon Realm, the extraordinary measures involved in holding a wizard captive often involve crippling that mage with drugs, magick, or injuries. Although such penalties were common in older days (Doissetep and Horizon had some ugly dungeons), twenty-first-century Traditionalists avoid Imprisonment whenever possible, both because of the potential escalation of cruelty and because of the massive resources involved in keeping a mage prisoner.

Groups who can afford to do it have been known to strand prisoners in distant Realms (often with nothing but the clothes on their backs, if even that much!); lock them away in prison-Realms; or hand them over to Umbral entities, Paradox spirits, or perhaps even (on very rare occasions) the Technocracy. Such punishments are pretty rare, but they do happen. Seldom, however, do to the Traditions allow their members to remain prisoners of Night-Folk, mortal authorities, or the Fallen. Beyond the obvious indignities involved, it’s risky letting such jailers hold onto a Tradition mage for long. Who knows what those captors might learn from him if they got the chance?

A time-honored punishment, Indenture binds the offender to serve the injured party. Spells prevent the criminal from harming his “master.” Typically, this punishment lasts either a given length of time (seven years’ service being an old favorite), or else mandates between one and three tasks that must be completed before the sentence gets lifted. Especially for offenders with very little cash, Indenture provides an alternate form of Reparations.

That said, this sentence is extremely unpopular outside the Order of Hermes, the Akashayana, certain Thanatoic sects, and some Verbenae… and it’s acceptable only if it’s declared against one of their own, by one of their own. For obvious reasons, the Dreamspeaker Tradition refuses to acknowledge Indenture as a legal option. The mere possibility of it being declared against one of their members has, on several occasions, almost caused the entire Tradition to leave the Council. For equally obvious reasons, some female mages (especially those born in the West during the last thirty years) oppose the idea of Indenture binding a female offender to a male “master.”

The Celestial Chorus practices a more accepted version of Service, involving binding a more-powerful defendant to a less-powerful plaintiff (especially if the original trespass was fueled by arrogance).

Branding is perhaps the most common Council punishment; a mystic mark is “burnt” into the offender’s Avatar; depending on the infraction and its severity, the mark might last for a month, three months, a year, nine years, or longer. When a mage steps over the line, this Council punishment ensures that other mages will know about it.

Although most versions of this Brand remain invisible to normal sight, characters who can sense paranormal phenomena can also read the marks that have been burnt into the recipient’s metaphysical form. Severe offenders may be marked with a visible Brand instead – a glowing sigil of disconcerting aspect. Even people who can’t read the specific meaning of the mark can tell that it doesn’t say good things about the person wearing it.

A variety of symbols reflect the charge: Recklessness, Violence, Cowardice, Disrespect, Laziness, Deceit, Endangerment, Lechery, Oathbreaking, Theft, Treachery, Violation. The Virtual Adepts have their own infamous brand – LAME – which gets applied to people who behave obnoxiously in the Digital Web but remain more or less innocent of the other crimes.

Although the Etherites disdain such metaphysical excesses, their form of Branding – Reproof – effectively “brands” a mage by detailing his crimes in the various journals used by Ether Scientists to publicize their experiments and triumphs.

In game terms, any Branded mage suffers penalties to his Social rolls, Background Traits, and related Merits or Flaws. Depending on the charge, the length of the brand, and the people viewing it, that penalty could range from -1 to -5. An Etherite with a short-lived Recklessness reproof won’t be persona non grata for long… after all, everyone expects mad scientists to be a bit careless. A Violation brand, however, could mark the offender for death in the eyes of certain mages…

The Branding Rote
(••• Life/ ••• Prime/ ••• Spirit/ •• Mind; often along with •••• Time, •••• Spirit, ••• Forces, or a combination of the three)

System: The simple form of this mark uses Prime and Spirit to burn the mark into the recipient’s aura. Life invests that burn into the receiver’s organic Pattern too, and Mind sends off a disquieting emotional pulse which warns people that the person wearing the Brand is not to be trusted. Performed as a ritual, the Branding process – in game terms – involves rolling six successes or more – enough to earn a Storyteller’s option result on the Base Damage or Duration chart in Mage 20 (p. 504). That Duration is the time-period invested into the Brand. More complex variations include Time 4 (to make the Brand last until a given circumstance has occurred); Spirit 4 (to make that Brand an essentially permanent fixture of the offender’s Avatar and aura; and Forces 3 (to make the Brand glow visibly on the offender’s skin).

All variations of the Brand involve casting vulgar magick, and so should be administered in a Chantry or Realm whenever possible.

The next level of punishment marks the offender as an outcast among Tradition personnel. For a given time, perhaps even for life, that criminal gets excluded from the company of his former friends and allies. A gigantic “cold shoulder” greets him whenever he shows up at a Chantry, requests aid or shelter, tries to make friends, or requires allies in a bad situation. In most cases, he’s on his own. For the sentence’s duration, any Tradition member who aids or shelters that fugitive risks being Censured or Ostracized herself.

The shunned party becomes an outlaw – literally “outside the laws” that protect members of that society – and may be ignored, attacked, captured or even murdered by anyone (or any thing…) that wants to take him. In the old days, shunning was pretty much a death sentence for both mages and the unAwakened; without friends, shelter or protection, an exiled individual had little chance of survival. These days, though, that’s a rare punishment. An Ostracized exile has greater access to the world at large than an outlaw in the old days had enjoyed, and so the punishment isn’t likely to harm him on anything more than an emotional level. And because shunning does hurt a person deeply on that emotional level, he’s much more likely to join an enemy group if he’s ostracized. Thus, although this penalty’s still on the books, its most severe extremes rarely appear in the modern era.

In the most extreme form of Ostracism – Interdiction – the outlawed mage also receives an in absentia death sentence.

Anyone who catches him is advised to kill him. Typically declared against rogue and Fallen Tradition mages, Interdiction turns the offender into legal prey for Tradition enforcers – usually members of the outlaw’s own group who’ve sworn to redeem their sect’s honor. Voormas and his rogue cabal, for example, were Interdicted, hunted down, and destroyed by their fellow Euthanatoi. The same fate meets other mages who shame their group’s ideals.

A crude but effective way of dealing with offenders, the death sentence removes the problem by removing the criminal. Though it’s often considered an appalling practice among “modernistic” mages, a death sentence remains – for old-school magi – a perfectly natural, time-honored way of solving the issue. It’s even written into the oaths sworn within many mystic sects that the member who violates the trust of that sect agrees to suffer death for his transgression. Though harsh, death remains a pragmatic solution.

After all, each Awakened mage is essentially a force of nature. It’s hard to imprison such people effectively for very long, at least without resorting to cruelty and a vast expenditure of resources. And so, the most efficient way of handling a dangerous outlaw is to kill him.

Once arrived upon by a Tribunal, a death-sentence (formally known, in Hermetic jargon, as Requital) is carried out as quickly and mercifully as possible. While Renaissance wizards tended to employ baroque tortures, that sort of thing is unfashionable in the current age. Now, such executions get handled through a combination of physical murder and spiritual banishment: The body gets destroyed and the soul gets sent away. For obvious reasons, Thanatoic mages were often used for such duties in the past – a service that rendered them even more fearsome than they had already been. Since the grotesque dilemma of Voormas’ corruption and the massacre of House Janissary, though, the other Traditions have displayed an understandable reluctance to let the “good death” people monopolize executions.

In the new millennium, the Traditions tend to look for individuals renowned for both their integrity and their grasp of necessary violence. It is unfortunately rare however, to find one who is also tough enough to track down and destroy the kind of vicious recidivists and lunatics that earn this sentence.

The most severe penalty possible, Gilgul shatters the Avatar, robbing a mage of her ability to use magick while also essentially scattering her soul. Generally combined with the death penalty, this annihilates an offender’s place among the Awakened, theoretically destroying her future among them as well.

An intentionally ironic term, gilgul in its original Hebrew form means “metamorphosis,” and refers to “rolling over” or “revolving” one existence for another. It usually refers either to a dead soul that takes up residence in a living body in order to atone for past sins, or to a “lesser” soul transmigrating to a higher state. In a way, both interpretations are literally true of a Gilguled mage; her Awakened soul is “transformed” into slivers of what it once was, giving each sliver an opportunity to try again with better results.

In another fashion, it’s a cruel irony; the individual mage becomes “a dead man walking,” atoning for her crimes by ceasing to exist in her current incarnation. Even if she continues living in the organic sense, her Awakening ends forever. In many ways, then, death is the most merciful conclusion to a magickal Gilgul. Remembering what you once were, and can no longer even hope to be, must be one of the most depressing fates imaginable.

The Ascension Warrior fiasco has many Tradition mages debating the finality of Gilgul. If a Gilguled soul can come back together in the same body… possibly more powerful than they’d been before, and very probably with a grudge. Considering the level of destruction one previously Gilguled mage was able to produce, what damage might a number of them do? That question has Council mages pondering. For now, the New Horizon Council’s official line is that the ‘reborn’ Heylel Teomim was a Technocratic blasphemy and impostor.

An ancient but unofficial punishment, Ordeal has another, less palatable name: torture. And although the Council has never used torture as a prescribed sentence, many groups within the Traditions still do. It’s a dubious practice, of course – the mages carrying out such sentences risk being charged with Cruelty themselves. In a world where “You get what you deserve” is a defining principle, though, old-school sects occasionally use mental, emotional, physical, and magickal torture as an especially rough form of justice.

Verbena, Dreamspeaker, and Thanatoic groups typically employ physical ordeals – scarification, sun-dances, exposure to the elements, tying criminals over anthills, and so on – either as purifications of the offender, or as traditional methods of cultural punishment. Akashics tend to enforce torturous training methods: standing one-legged on a high pillar in the sun for hours or days, punching wood or stone, holding a single mouthful of water throughout hours of stress without swallowing it, etc. Hermetics have infamous trials of elemental and spiritual assault, while Etherites and Virtual Adepts employ electrical shock, mental feedback, or simple yet excruciating mockery. The Celestial Chorus denies the use of torture, but its rivals claim that fire, wheel, and rack still occasionally make “unofficial” appearances in that group’s justice. And while Ecstatics employ physical excruciations too, their most infamous punishment involves feeding an offender a time-suspended loop of the pain his deeds have caused. This mystic penalty doesn’t leave a single lasting mark, but might be the cruelest – and most just – ordeal of them all.

As a sentence, Ordeal is almost always used on members of the group in question. Handled that way, it’s usually considered “an internal matter” by other Traditions. If an Etherite mad scientist straps a thieving apprentice into his Psychoplasm Extremis Machine, other mages may well close their eyes to that punishment, so long as the offender survives more or less intact. If the Etherite does the same thing to an Ecstatic Initiate, though, he’ll be up on charges before he can flip the switch.

As champions of mystic practices, the individual creeds within the Traditions have influenced mortal society for millennia. From the distant temples of the Akashayana to the soaring cathedrals of the Celestial Chorus, the groves of the proto-Verbenae, and the shamanic guidance of the pre-Council Dreamspeakers, various Traditions guided the religious life of their people long before the Council itself existed. Even now, when their influence has waned, these mages have friends among the faithful, especially now that neopaganism and various ancestral creeds enjoy a resurgence in this supposedly “faithless” age.

For the most part, this influence remains more concentrated on older religious institutions, especially the Catholic Church, Hindu and Buddhist temples, Black American Baptist congregations, and ancestral religious societies within indigenous cultures and other ethnic Diaspora movements. The newer Evangelical congregations are often too suspicious of Satanic corruption, too prejudiced against outsiders, and too skeptical about “miracles” that come from anyone except certain Evangelical figures, to accept much guidance from well-intentioned mages.

And yet, street-based ministries that work with at-risk populations and extend a welcoming hand to cultural outsiders (homeless people, queer youth, runaways, outlaw subcultures, and so forth) have string ties with certain Tradition mages – often (though not always) members of the Chorus. Unlike the uglier fringes of American Protestantism, these street ministries uphold radical acceptance and practical aid over the adherence to Old Testament judgmentalism and “prosperity gospel” hucksterism so often seen among megachurches.

Meanwhile, the influence of Ecstatic, Hermetic, and Verbenae groups can be found among Pagan and occultist circles. Contrary to the stereotypically (and often accurately) selfish image of such groups, certain alternative-spiritual sects and subcultures are extremely active in humanitarian causes like Burners Without Borders, transhumanist and futurian spiritual sects, web-based crowd-funding charities, and the aforementioned street-level salvation societies.

On a secular level, the Chorus, Hermetic mages, and renegade scientists of various denominations (especially the Etherite and Virtual Adept variety) maintain a small but entrenched hold in academia, industry, and the old-money elite. Guiding various secret societies, occult sects, and “initiated orders” (especially since the 1700s), these groups have exerted subtle influence throughout schools, government, and various industries that would never openly admit their mystic ties.

That such groups played major roles in English and Scandinavian /Germanic politics – as well as (often paradoxically) the American and French Revolutions – is no secret among the Awakened… nor, to their shame, is their involvement within the Nazi and Fascist movements. Less obvious is their role throughout Russian history where – even after the ostensibly atheistic Communist government took power – Eastern Choristers, Hermetics, Etherites, and Verbenae command covert influence to this day. That influence has suffered since the early 1900s (especially after the mysterious “Iron Curtain affair” involving the Hag Baba Yaga), but more recently it has flourished since the turn of the millennium.

Meanwhile, the Chakravanti have maintained a subtle yet stubborn presence in the many governments and societies of India since the Classical Age, expanding into the Middle East and the Mediterranean (where the Hermetics and Choristers have been influential for over 2000 years), and North and Central Africa by way of the Madzimbabwe – a sect they absorbed during the Grand Convocation. Though never powerful in any of those regions, their influence in the underworld has been eerily profound. Meanwhile, their old Akashic rivals once held great influence in the courts of China, Tibet, Japan, and India, but slipped from official power in those regions long ago.

The quest for art, passion, and rebellion has given the Ecstatic Tradition a strong hold in the lives of “common people.” Especially since the Romantic and Decadent art movements of the early 1800s – when artists and their audiences rebelled against encroaching industrialism and modernity – the Cult has emerged as one of the Council’s most influential Traditions. In the age of mass media and its attendant rebel subcultures, the Cult’s message of transgressive liberation spread to the point where many folks credit (and blame) the Cult of Ecstasy for the wild 1960s. That’s a simplistic assumption, but there’s truth to the idea; certainly, the Cult enjoyed a profound role during the Woodstock Generation, and continues to influence the various descendants of that era ever since.

A similar inspiration guides the hand of the Dreamspeakers, whose marginalized role in the so-called “modern” age has made them rather powerful among the people who’ve been likewise marginalized. Now, as cultural genocide becomes unfashionable (though not eliminated), the Speakers and their people have forced Euro-American society to acknowledge them as equal members of the various nations that had ground cultures between their gears. Throughout Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia, the Americas, Oceana, parts of Africa and Western Europe, and a globe-spanning network of urban and traditional medicine-workers and their allies, the Kha’vadi have asserted unprecedented influence in the twenty-first century cultural landscape. Though they don’t hold the reins of power like the Hermetics and Choristers do, the Speakers reach a much larger and more enthusiastic audience these days than they ever had back during the Bad Old Days.

On a similar note, the growing interest in “eastern spirituality” and martial arts has given the Chakravanti and Akashayana a potent and growing influence throughout western popular culture. Combined with the Cultists’ pop-culture ties and the “new age” influence and sustainable-living ethics of the Verbenae and Dreamspeakers, backed by the spiritual compassion of the Chorus and the occult pedigrees of the Hermetic Order, the Traditions hold a steady influence among people who want more than the cold embrace of technological comforts.

And then there’s the growing sphere of political activism, which is where the Traditions truly excel. Between the Cult’s old influence, the Dreamspeakers’ growing power, and the vibrant anger of the Virtual Adepts, the twenty-first century political underground has become the Council’s stronghold. Backed with neospiritual, sustainable-living, and urban-tribal movements, all nine Traditions – even, by way of alternate technologies, the Society of Ether – occupy a secure, if often embattled, place in global counterculture and political revolt.

Social media, and the Internet in general, have both made the Virtual Adepts one of the most powerful factions in the Ascension War. No one understands the Information Age better than the people who helped build it. Compared to the VAs, even the most accomplished Syndicate and NWO ops are rank amateurs in the field of global activism. Flashmobs, mass protests, culture-jamming, whistle-blowing, social networking, online video exposés, developing-nation technologies, DIY-culture, neoanarchism, Internet propagation, and all other forms of undermining the dominant paradigm have given the Virtual Adepts a level of influence envied even by the long-entrenched Order of Hermes. This influence, in turn, has brought the “Virtual” Adepts further into the physical realm. Although their digital paradise still sounds promising in theory, many new Adepts prefer global reality-hacking over metaphysical transcendence.

Most recently, the Standing Rock protests that began in North Dakota almost a decade go have since inspired the largest and most comprehensive alliance of Indigenous peoples in history. That network, gathered in both physical and virtual space, reaches across the world, and includes people from cultures on every human-inhabited continent. For obvious reasons, the Dreamspeakers and Verbena play key roles within this expanding activist network.

Although the term cyber is hopelessly dated by the 21st century, the cultures of transhumanism, futurism, digital potential, cross-space connection, alternative media, re-contextualized reality, and Internet telepresence are larger and more powerful now than anyone could have imagined them being back in the early 1990s.

Even among the Sleepers, computers and the Internet are even more ubiquitous by 2020 as cars were in 1993. Cell phones and wireless access place the world in your pocket, and although the deeper realities of the Digital Web remain exclusive to Awakened folks, the effects of online culture (and its related effects on culture at large) are almost universal. And again, no faction navigates these strange frontiers better than the Virtual Adepts. On many levels, the results have been astoundingly successful.

In perhaps the greatest single victory of the renewed Ascension War, IT technology has destroyed this generation’s idea of a single dominant paradigm. In its place, we have a theoretically infinite “wikireality”: a pool of possibilities in which anyone with a computer and an Internet connection can change the lives of millions of people worldwide. Alternative media sources subvert big-box dominance. Digital media and manipulation software allow clever Sleepers to re-contextualize reality and then beam their visions to the world at large. The entire concept of controlled monoculture has shattered. On this front, at least, the Technocracy is reeling.

As usual, however, the Sleepers have transformed something precious into shit. The Internet allows folks to vent their worst impulses on faceless worldwide forums. Social veneers of respect and recognition get chucked in favor of viciousness. Insane conspiracy theories and deliberate trolling subvert even the most essential concepts of reality, and keep people jumping at shadows and tearing one another apart. The Nephandi have thrived even as the Technocracy has scrambled. Doxing, cyber-bullying, and other forms of online harassment have become part of everyday existence across the globe, and an asshole with a keyboard can kill people without the use of magick. The downside of a democratic reality is that assholes outweigh visionaries… especially in the World of Darkness. If the Technocracy cedes this field to the Fallen, that will become a war even the Adepts will be hard-pressed to win.

It’s not a popular topic for discussion, but the outlaw nature of many Tradition groups binds them to the extralegal underworld. Once again, the Ecstatics hold an obvious advantage here, given their history with illegal practices and substances, combined with their defiance of law and order.

Though the Euthanatos are not the careless killers that their reputations suggest, their fatal tendencies certainly mark them as murderers and assassins, with all the connections those professions demand.

The Speakers’ influence within hip-hop culture often has those mages rubbing elbows with gangsters, while the epithet witch brands a person as an outlaw even in the modern world, especially when the accusation is true.

Meanwhile, Choristers work as street saviors while Virtual Adepts ply the hacker underground. Akashics can land on either side of the law, and Etherite scientists may pursue forbidden experiments and shady adventures in the name of wild science.

And then there’s fandom: the swelling contingent of pop-culture’s misfit toys. The twenty-first century has been called “the Golden Age of Geekdom,” and that’s not wrong. From the streets of Tokyo to the clubs of Goa, from Seattle game companies to Brazilian campuses, fantasy and SF fans hold a surging influence within IT and entertainment culture.

For obvious reasons, the Etherites, Virtual Adepts, Verbenae, and Hermetics hold pride of purpose in fandom subcultures – steampunk and high fantasy in particular. And if anyone can bring on a new age of magic, it’ll be the folks who not only accept magical realities but who also strive to make their own lives magical.

After everything is said and done, it remains that case that by necessity, the Council’s influence must remain unobvious. Even before the mass-media age, the Order of Reason had spies and allies everywhere. Apparent “witches” and “sorcerers” were herded off to gallows and bonfires throughout the European Renaissance and so-called “Age of Reason” whether or not they actually had any connection to magical culture at all. Even in cultures that did not persecute “witches” in large numbers, the Awakened and their ways often frightened the common people… and they still do today. People revere heroes in theory, but in practice they tear such people apart. Any supermarket tabloid rag-rack will show you that much. And so, the Traditions work carefully. Their influence, though increasingly pervasive, remains subtle in the unAwakened world.

Especially these days, this influence flows through a scattered network of small groups, not a single monolithic effort. Even so, the Council’s influence has run far deeper than anyone, Awakened or otherwise, suspects. Although assertions like “The Cult of Ecstasy created rock ‘n’ roll” are almost certainly untrue, that Tradition’s influence has certainly spread through that musical revolt.

For the most part, the Traditions’ primary spheres of influence among the Sleeper concentrate upon encouraging wonder, imagination, diversity, cooperation and, to a lesser but growing extent, revolution. Regardless of the activities of a given cabal or Tradition, the Council promotes a collaborative reality filled with options, faith, and creativity.

An Acolyte is a direct assistant (or Retainer) for your magick. They can be instrumental to your magick going right; Acolytes can obtain items and components, and help in preparing rituals (which is why the Chakravanti and Hermetics find them useful). They are also almost always students of the mage they serve. They aren’t generally mages in their own right yet, though they will sometimes have other talents.

Acolytes vary depending on the mage’s tradition and personal style. A Cult of Ecstasy’s Acolytes might very well be hippies or groupies. The Order of Hermes will generally keep their Acolytes in a Chantry or school setting. They are probably the most regimental of all the Traditions where Acolytes are concerned. Their Acolytes also tend to be more knowledgeable of at least the mechanics behind magic (of the linear variety), if not always dynamic magick itself. The Euthanatos are a close second.

Dreamspeakers and Verbena Acolytes will generally be your New-Agers and Wiccans (at least in Los Angeles), but don’t discount the strong undercurrent of people with age-old heritage and real cultural depth. Dreamspeakers will also draw Indigenous people to them, training their Acolytes to be shamans and such — a stereotype? You bet; the Dreamspeakers often practice magick that overlaps the animistic heritage of many pre-colonial cultures, so the alliances between the two groups are pretty natural.

Celestial Choristers generally have their Acolytes among the church. That makes sense. What they are depends upon the religion the Chorister practices. I tend to think of nuns and monks, but church deacons and faith healers are also sometimes Acolytes. Members of congregations, teachers, theologians, historians, high artisans and craftsmen make their way into these ranks as well.

For the Virtual Adept, Acolytes are usually the computer savvy hackers who help them out. Ages vary, but unlike in the movies, they tend to be geeks. I mean how cute or socially apt are you going to be if you spend most of your days staring into a glowing screen in a dark room, never entering the sunlight? Acolytes to the Society of Ether are rarely more attractive. Let’s face it, in this world most people are either born with looks or brains, but rarely, it seems, with both. They are smart though, and inventive. They aren’t all absent-minded inventor types, though.

Members of the Akashic Brotherhood choose those who will follow their eastern ways. Martial Arts is a very important part of their magic and their Acolytes tend to be formidable opponents. The Akashayana also take Acolytes from among the same sorts of ranks you might find Celestial Choristers, which makes sense, given the strong philosophical and religious roots of both groups.

Tradition attitudes toward Acolytes — as a whole — are studiously formal. Acolytes occupy that nebulous half-zone between mage and mundane. Maybe the Acolyte believes in magick but just doesn’t have the aptitude, the desire or the balls to study it. For whatever reason, the Acolyte plays second fiddle, but that doesn’t mean the Acolyte is expendable. Tradition justice mandates that Acolytes be treated much like mages who have no defenses of their own. That is, it’s generally safe to discuss Tradition business around Acolytes and to do magick with them (they wouldn’t be much help otherwise). However, they still can be tried for crimes, and the Acolyte’s mentor can be charged, too, if he was negligent or abusive and prompted the crime.

Hedge wizards are often allies and disciples, sometimes even incorporated wholesale into your Tradition (such as with the Order of Hermes). There are relatively few young mages who draw a distinction between static or linear styles magic and dynamic magick. It is generally only Adepts and Masters who have attained a sufficient Enlightenment to fully perceive the differences. You might stare down your nose at a mage whose magic isn’t as flexible as yours, but I bet you won’t after he’s saved your ass once or twice.

Ultimately, the important deal with Acolytes is that they’re around to help with things magickal. Mundane allies can’t always be trusted with magickal knowledge or in situations of rituals. Acolytes have learned a thing or two. Even if they haven’t had a moment of clarity, they can at least chant, hold candles and otherwise help with the organization. Many Acolytes hope to one day go on to become mages themselves. Some may learn the rudiments of magic, practicing linear spells and a few simple formulae; others Awaken to phenomenal potential — sometimes outstripping the master one night.

Game-wise, an Acolyte is most often portrayed via the Retainer Background, or as a PC consor, especially if a hedge wizard.

Mundane Allies can be a very valuable asset to any mage, regardless of considerations of magickal power. These are less direct than Acolytes – they rarely know what the mage truly is, for example – yet have an even greater range of utility given they’re not constrained by magickal aptitude or acceptance.

Generally speaking, mortal allies come in handy when you need a safe house, skilled help (a driver, a courier, cannon fodder), or specialized knowledge (chemical analysis, computer hacking, police investigation). Mortal allies are good for those everyday things that you simply need someone to do, because you can’t or won’t do it. Favors, if you will.

A mundane ally can do many things you can’t but, most importantly, can do them without attracting special attention. While you might be able to face down a gangbanger or a criminal adversary, it’ll draw much less attention if the police take care of it. Call up your old buddy on the force and voila. Or perhaps you have access to a weird ancient rite, but it’s all written in Ayurvedic. Well, if one of your old college friends happens to be working in UCLA’s linguistics department, he may be able to save you some time and a headache and won’t cause all the ruckus of you digging around at the local library and cursing at the stacks.

Mundanes are also good for spin doctoring. Nothing beats a good lawyer to help you out or a cop to turn the other way. The ally running the safe house is generally good at turning attention elsewhere. A doctor you can go to for unusual injuries is invaluable, and the unquestioning landlord is a godsend.

Unlike Acolytes, there can be one drawback to having allies. You can call on them for favors, yes. They can also call on you. You pretty much have to answer. To not do so risks losing them as allies. They become less dependable, less willing to help when called on. Can you blame them? No one likes to be taken for granted, used or abused. Even the bad guys have to be somewhat loyal to their allies.

Game-wise, these are strictly mundane Allies. If they aren’t, they will generally become Acolytes to a mage; otherwise they become a liability. They rarely learn any kind of magic and don’t usually have any special abilities. Their usefulness comes in their mundane specialties.

A supernatural ally can be a potent resource. However, the mage pretty much has to keep it a secret, or else he opens himself to a world of grief that he doesn’t want. He can also get easily drawn into their problems. He has to face the fact that his allies’ contemporaries probably doesn’t approve of him. There’s a lot to juggle in these kinds of relationships. In the end, you’re more likely to be another creature’s naive pawn than their buddy.

If a mage truly requires a supernatural assistant, they’re far better off turning to companions, constructs and/or familiars, which are described elsewhere and are represented through different mechanics than the Allies or Retainer Backgrounds.

Less personal than Allies, Contacts are people you can count on to get information. These are always mundanes, are generally non-descript in their area of expertise, and — unless something spectacular happens — rather replaceable.

Contacts are people in the know. You want information on something, they can get it for you. Hey, they might already know what you want to know. They’re not as difficult to upkeep as allies, and they don’t require the attention that Acolytes require. Generally, all you have to do to ensure your contacts’ loyalties is simply to keep quiet about the source of your info. They can be traced, so do use care like you would with Allies. Remember: These are human beings. Some of them have families. They have lives, and bringing your world down on them is likely to do away with both.

So who are Contacts? Many of them are drawn from groups that are at least partly adjacent to where your true Allies and Acolytes are found. They could be a friend of a friend, a former co-worker who still has your email, old school chums you haven’t seen in ten years, folks you’ve blackmailed… But they could also be much less: Hangers-on, shiftless layabouts, bribed clerks, people you see every week at the nightclub, but otherwise don’t know from Adam. Loose associates and acquaintances. Put it this way: Did you know the name of every person in your high school math class? No? Could you still recognize most of them if you’d seen one of them outside class and asked if there was a test that day? Yes. That’s about how contacts work.

Contacts are, sadly, a two-way street. Any information you gather is potentially information for someone else — namely, that you were digging up a specific topic. Be careful what you ask. Really extraordinary questions and demands have a way of getting around via the usual travails of innocent gossip or opportunism.

Acolytes (Retainers), Allies and Contacts come together with a Mage’s own Resources, Fame and sometimes even Rank (each of which simulates temporary Allies and Contacts) to comprise their web of influence.

A Mage’s influence is ultimately their mundane network of Allies and Contacts branching out into particular fields of expertise. These mortals can help the skilled mage in dealing with legal systems that would otherwise hinder or harm him. He can also use these avenues to aid himself, to find items, to gather information or to cover activities. Having one’s finger into media can be helpful too. And don’t turn your nose up at the occult ties (duh!) or even high society.

High levels of influence are not easily gained. Nurturing a truly impressive network of collaborators and confidantes takes time and care. Few mages can manage much of this to any great degree, given the demands of their own paradigmatic fixations, mystical studies and the dangers of the Ascension War. Generally, all the average mage can hope to maintain are some useful avenues to help gather information or affect some simple necessities (such as fake IDs or shoving aside of arrests), in a city they know they’ll spend at least a few years in.

The Technocracy has a good hold here, obviously. So do some supernaturals. If you step on the wrong power-broker’s toes you’re likely to draw out some pretty nasty enemies.

Though their ancestral feud with the Chakravanti is far from forgotten, the Akashayana is more often than not the voice of unity within the New Horizon Council. When the other Traditions threatened to secede, it was the Akashic representative that brought them back to the table. Likewise, when their allies cannot agree on an assault strategy, it is often the warriors of the Brotherhood who see past the complexities of the various plans and who propose the simple core from which the final scheme emerges. The Akashic Brotherhood’s inherent desire for simplicity seems to force the inevitable red tape of such a diverse organization to its minimal level.

At the same time, the Council provides the Brotherhood with an anchor to the modern world. It is far too easy for Akashic mages to retreat into Zen philosophy and the simplicity of their isolated monasteries. The overall structure of the Traditions forces these willworkers to interact with not only their colleagues, but also with the sleeping world that surrounds them. They might be happier in isolation, but they would also be much fewer in number.

Challenges

While the Akashic path works very well for those who understand it, the achievement of that understanding is often the most daunting task an initiate in the Brotherhood can undertake. Cryptic comments may be enticing at first, but can become frustrating to students and allies alike. There are those both within and outside of the Brotherhood who question the traditional training methods in the immediacy of the modern day. Surely students would be of more use to the Council with a more direct method of training. Both young Akashics and newly assimilated members from the Wu Lung and various Disparate groups cry for just this sort of revision.

While the Brotherhood suffers from multiple internal schisms caused by philosophical division, the Brotherhood must adjust with changes forced upon them by the outside world. Mass media has sent ripples through the mundane world since its creation.

It is not surprising then, that it affects the practitioners of magic as well. Film, television and books have mainstreamed the mysterious culture of the East — have in fact almost trivialized that which is at the core of Akashic beliefs. At the same time, the same media have created their own philosophies of the “true warrior” and “philosophic knight.” With increasing numbers with each passing years, would-be Akashic adepts come to the Akashayana with their own philosophies and trainings. The philosophies and trainings may appear superficially similar to the traditional teachings of the Brotherhood, but instead they force older brothers to face a dilemma. Must the young be taught to unlearn apparently effective kata, or must the old learn to change to adapt to these new traditions?

While the Akashic Brotherhood provides the voice of unity for the New Council, it is the Celestial Chorus that provides the vision. The Chorus’ lyrical description of a unified humanity has inspired more than one set of representatives to strive for success. Perhaps more important is the Tradition’s compassion for Sleepers. It is far too easy for the Awakened to forget the needs of those around them, and it is the Chorus that brings the Council back into line when decisions that threaten humanity in general come under consideration.

Being forced by the Council structure to interact with mages of other ideologies has been extremely healthy for the Celestial Chorus. Chorister leadership has learned to accept willworkers that they might have condemned as diabolists through these interactions. The resulting open-mindedness has trickled down the general membership, allowing members of differing faiths to find a home in the Chorus. Thus the modern Chorus at its most idealistic, is a group that, having successfully striven for unity among different monotheistic beliefs, also brings to the Traditions the same philosophy of inclusiveness despite disagreement.

Challenges

And yet, in spite of professed unity to the rest of the Council, the Chorus may possibly have more in-fighting than any other tradition, with the possible exception of the Order of Hermes. All Celestials may agree that there is one deity, but unfortunately they tend to disagree about whom that deity is. Willworkers with Judeo-Christian backgrounds are particularly resistant to those of other religions, echoing closely their Sleeper colleagues. Mages who favor peace are extremely vocal in their opposition to the more militant in their midst. These Choristers question the need for warriors in a Tradition dedicated to unity.

Further, and perhaps more importantly, there are those who claim that the push for unity of thought, the push for agreement about the One, actually is harmful to the Traditions. Lack of individuality stifles the creativity that should be at the core of the Council, say these dissenters. They claim that the Celestial Chorus is pushing for a universal song sung in unison. Instead, these mages remind their contemporaries that the Aum was a complex and beautiful song, with tight harmonies and elegant descants. Does the current drive harken back more to the proto-Technocracy than the modern Traditions? Only time will tell.

If the Brotherhood is the Voice of the Traditions and the Chorus is the Vision, the Cult of Ecstasy provides the Drive that gets things done. More often than not, while the other Traditions are still bickering as to how to accomplish a goal, it is a Cultist or a group of Cultists that are already in the process of fulfilling the goal.

Despite popular belief to the contrary, Ecstatics do not tend to revel in their image as the “bad boys” or “bad girls” of the Tradition. Instead they see their role as a natural extension of the freedom that being a mage represents. As the saying goes, “If we don’t push the boundaries, who will?” At the same time, the Cult serves an important role when the Council seeks to look forward; the Cult serves as a home for seers and for prophets, for those whose vision of the future brings them into conflict with the mundane world around them. These seers and prophets, in turn, bring important insight to the council table. Their predictions help to lay new directions. Their experimental behaviors help those associated with them to break away from the old. In short, the Cult brings progress.

While the Cult brings important progress to Traditions as a whole, membership in the Council has given the Sahajiya a strong sense of identity and unity that would otherwise be weak or non-existent. The Cult might have a long history, but it is a disjointed one. Incarnations may be identifiable in nearly every region and every historical period, but it was not until their unification under the Council that various factions were able to truly recognize one another as brother and sister. Ironically, given this scattered past, there are those who claim a single guiding force behind the Cult’s evolution. Those who support this theory hint at evidence that an individual or small group of individuals has been influential in all of the various groups at key points in their histories.

Challenges

Unfortunately, progress is rarely without a price. Experimental behaviors can lead to destructive habits. Whether these habits manifest as physical addictions or stubborn refusal to accept any tradition, Ecstatics have a tendency to end up as victims to the tools and behaviors that once merely opened their minds. This problem is compounded by its prevalence. As many within the Cult are subject to the same weakness, nearly all are blind to it. There are those outside the Cult who have noted that Cultists have continued to range farther and farther afield in their efforts to create new mind-opening substances. They fear that a wound has developed in the very nature of the Cult as a result of pushing towards the use of ever more extreme drugs. The most ardent Ecstatic proponents claim these substances are harmless and merely opens their minds to new levels of awareness.

The Sahajiya is made up of many like-minded groups that couldn’t be more different. While these groups hold little to no animosity to one another, they also have a hard time understanding one another. Rebellion and chaos are concepts that are intimately tied to times and places. What is destructive and amoral in one culture is often perfectly acceptable in another.

While some might claim the Dreamspeaker tradition represents some of the most limited of the mages in the modern day, nothing could be further from the truth. These mages serve as a primordial, basic foundation to the New Council. The Dreamspeakers will carry on the good fight long after all others have been washed away by the tides of time. The spirit-walkers are the Soul of the Council. They have learned a force tolerance. While their individual best interests may not be optimally served by being lumped together, they understand from the ancient wisdom that this union will provide the most universal benefit. They have learned to cling to personal identity and to primal goals in spite of phenomenal hardship.

The Kha’vadi provide a spiritual center when lesser things distract their allies. They alone hold the whole history of the Traditions, and they are the most willing to welcome new mages and new ideas into the New Council. They have seen true suffering and know that they and all mages are agents of a greater will. The reasons the shamans remain a coherent Tradition, and indeed why they remain a part of the Council, are their own. When pressed, the answer is always the same cryptic one, “We remain because we must.”

Challenges

The Dreamspeakers’ greatest weakness is perhaps the lack of a coherent organization outside the Council; they hold the history of the Council but have little unified history of their own. Indeed, shorn of their mutual connection, these shamans often hold more unity with the spirit world and their local communities than with one another. Young Dreamspeakers rarely find it worth their while to turn their back on their community or ancestors to seek new mentors or training far away. These Shamans — while they share more methodology with each other than, say, the Sons of Ether — do not necessarily share the core, cultural beliefs that they derive so much strength from.

That is to say, they may all tap into secret goals of the spirit world, but they do not necessarily interpret those goals in the same way. As a result, it is only rarely that the Dreamspeaker representative to the Council truly represents her colleagues’ views. This sense of disunity has been true since the Tradition formed and has only increased in the decades after the Reckoning.

Unfortunately, the added confusion of individuality is not the only flaw the Dreamspeakers struggle with in the modern world. In addition, the bonds shamans have to the spirit world represent another weakness to these willworkers. As the Avatar Storm demonstrated, the Dreamspeakers are fundamentally tied to the mortal world regardless of where their magicks lead them. It is not surprising to learn that, as a result, no small number of these mages have dedicated themselves to weakening the barriers to the spirit world – often without fully considering what else might be waiting for them on the other side.

The Euthanatos serve as the Conscience of the Council. They carry the conviction of morality. They are willing to become damned in order to save others. They are willing to make tough choices and follow through on them, even if they will be shunned or killed for those choices. Though the rest of the Council would not likely admit that the Euthanatos serve this role, it is the rare mage who will speak openly against their inclusion.

Perhaps ironically, the Chakravanti seek to maintain their ties to the Council out of a sense of their own mortality. They do not fear death at the hands of the Technocracy, though they recognize that without the Council, they and any other organization of mages would quickly fall to the Technocracy.

Challenges

Instead, they fear their own Resonance: They fear Jhor. The Chakravanti rely on their fellows to deal with them if they become a danger to themselves or others, but they recognize the threat the Tradition may pose as a whole without proper checks and balances. Indeed, other Traditions have fallen prey to the temptation of vampiric blood. The Euthanatos want to be certain that if their allies fall — as a whole — to worse temptations, there are those in place to put them down.

The Chakravanti suffer the most from who they are and the magick they practice. Even a Sleeper finds it easy to understand that those who dwell in, on and with death cannot fail to be touched by it. The Resonance from these masters of Entropy makes them particularly susceptible to Jhor. This tendency not only plagues the mages themselves, but also causes additional distrust to be directed at them by their fellows in the Traditions. Can a mage who considers herself to be the personal servant of death be expected to work willingly with the living? Even today, many willworkers think not.

Even if they do not fall victim to Jhor or worse, the Euthanatos can still suffer from the nature of their chosen tradition. Whether they choose to follow the route of assassin or researcher, of healer or gambler, it is easy for the death mages to lose themselves in their tasks rather than in their goals. Assassins begin to kill all who “deserve” death, regardless of the affect on the Wheel. Researchers recover all the knowledge they can, not just what should be recovered at this time. Healers and gamblers ply their trades excessively rather than sparingly. In the end, other Euthanatos must come in and undo what their colleagues have done, simply to maintain the Wheel.

The Order of Hermes, appropriately enough, brings structure to the Council. One might think of them as the Skeleton of the Council. The Traditions were organized following the model of the Hermetic houses. The example presented by the Order’s construction is carried forward to the organizations that do not have a long enough history to have created their own rules for government and self-discipline. The Order is also willing to provide aid to the other Traditions in putting down internal revolts. This aid has been accepted more often in the past than anyone is willing to confess.

The Hermetics’ sense of rightness insists that there is a place for everyone and that everyone has a place. As mages join the Traditions from the outside, the Order will happily provide them a role, often in their catchall House – often whether they like it or not.

So if the other Traditions are so dependent on the Order for structure, why do the Hermetics remain? Pure and simple, it is pride that holds the Order of Hermes at the core of the Council of Traditions. They feel that they are uniquely responsible for the creation of the Council. They feel that they alone understand how best to hold the Traditions together as a whole. As a result, they feel that without the Order, there can be no Council of Nine. In the end, the Order of Hermes will stand behind the Council until there is no Council to stand behind.

Challenges

The Order, like the Chorus, suffers both from internal fractiousness and from a push for unity. Unfortunately, these flaws, as well as the Order’s sin of pride, also affect the Council as a whole. Further, the pride of the Order was such that it forced its own methods and ideals on the other Traditions. The old Council’s worst failings could easily be described as a larger scale reflection of what lead to the Hermetic’s own catastrophic self-destruction of Doissetep.

In addition, rather than encouraging creativity, the Hermetics often inflict their policies and politics on mages who are unused to such complications. As a result, young dissidents within the Order’s ranks were foremost among those clambering for a restructuring of not only the Order of Hermes, but indeed of the entire New Horizon Council. In the event, they were only partially successful.

It was amid the resentments, purges and wild rumors of militant Hermetics planning to overthrow the post-Reckoning Hermetic hierarchy, that several events unfolded that changed the Order’s politics; the eradication of House Janissary; the Tytalan’s Second Massasa War; and the re-establishment of House Verditius at the expense of House Tytalus and Janissary.

The advantages the Etherites bring to the Council are two-fold. First, they provide vast insight on the Technocracy. While this was certainly true immediately after their defection, it remains true today. To best adapt what technology and ideas are cast off, the Sons must stay in touch with the state of any and all scientific arts. In addition, the Etheric mages may be the most responsible for helping technology come full circle. The sciences started as just another type of magick, and with the continued successes of the Sons of Ether, they seem to be returning to that state.

It is worth noting that while a focus on Victorian science may have been the rule in the past, modern Etherites represent a fairly evenly split focus on so-called retro-tech and trail-blazing alternative sciences. In addition, the Society of Ether find a unique freedom within the Council of Traditions. Certainly, there are still those among their colleagues who view them as dangerous technocratic madmen.

As a whole, however, these scientists find an acceptance for their theories in the realm of magick, where they would be rejected out of hand in the realm of purely Union-dominated scientific thought. As a result, such ‘neo-sciences’ as holistic medicine have found their way back into the sleeping world. The relationship between the Etherites and the Council may be the healthiest and the most balanced in terms of how much each gives and how much each asks of the other.

Challenges

Originally labeled as ‘Mad Scientists’ by the other members of the Council, the Society of Ether still labor to gain true acceptance from their mystick allies. If this wasn’t bad enough, the internal communication difficulties that stem from their diverse studies only serve to amplify the doubts of the other Traditions. The few Etherites who do gain recognition do so owing to their flamboyance, which also only adds to their image as crackpots.

Further, the Etherites who survived the Reckoning are not always certain as to how to proceed. Their most luminous members had either staked out strongholds in the aether to practice their science or sought to push the boundaries of Etherspace – and thus, they suffered extraordinary losses during the Avatar Storm. As a result, it was the youngest — and ironically most modern — of their Tradition that survived, often alone and unguided.

Finally, not only are there the generational communication problems that seem to be standard to all of the Traditions but, even within a generation, the sharing of information is hampered. The paradigm and research of every Etherite is unique. They may draw on a common stock of cast-off theories, but every Son approaches them differently. Some believe the Society of Ether desperately needs to develop a theory for something approximating a unified communication structure – just as many doubt it is even possible.

Passion for life is perhaps the greatest asset the Verbena bring to the New Council. They live life to the fullest and provide an anchor to the flesh that is so easy for some mages to neglect. In some ways, they have the most positive outlook on the post-Reckoning era; in the eyes of the Verbena all things must die and pass away, so that the next generation might grow up strong and true. They may also have the greatest potential following among the Sleepers, with the current yearning for spiritualism in the modern world and the growth of Neo-Paganism and other Wiccan-adjacent practices. As such, the Verbena currently enjoy a strong recruiting presence.

While some young members would argue that the Verbena could stand alone, these primal mages still need the support and guidance of their fellows on the Council. Acceptance in small circles of the sleeper world is not enough to stave off the effects of Paradox. An understanding of how the primal beat drives the modern urban world is only a start to shaping that beat and that world. The passion of the Verbena may drive the Council forward, but the Council provides the tree that gives the Verbena a place to set roots and to find shelter against the winds of technology.

Challenges

While there are factions of modern society that are open to the primal magick practiced by the Verbena, these mages often still get conflated with “Satanists and witches” by popular culture. Those attracted to New Age lifestyles aside, most modern Sleepers are theoretically more open-minded to the benefits of technology than the often messy reality of primal magicks. This misunderstanding and discomfort sometimes makes even the more conservative members of the other Traditions (especially the Celestial Chorus) uncomfortable around members of the Verbena. Unfortunately, the tendencies of some Verbena mages toward bloody sacrifices and disturbing rites tend to reinforce these opinions. Willworkers and mundanes alike are more comfortable with magick based on words or symbols than they are with magick that demands blood, sweat and sacrifice.

In addition, their ties to the primordial tend to distract them from the importance of immediate problems. When a Verbena is listening to the pulse of the city, she may not hear the honking of an out of control bus. The lack of strong organization within the Verbena only intensifies this disconnection.

Finally, much like the Dreamspeakers, the Verbena are among the most decentralized and disorganized of all the Traditions, often focusing on relationships at the mentor/student level, within the context of their own cultural practices. And also like the Kha’vadi, this has often meant that better organized sects, such as the Hermetics or Chorusers, were often able to get their way. It remains to be seen if the New Horizon Council will make good on its vow of greater inclusivity.

In some ways, the Mercurial Elite serve a similar role on the Council as does the Society of of Ether. They, like their more eccentric allies, provide insight on the Technocracy, its tools and its methods. While their information is often more up-to-date and relevant, their role as techno-spies is of – perhaps — lesser importance than their role as virtual explorers. The hope of finding or creating “Reality 2.0” may represent the greatest hope the Traditions have in finally defeating or escaping the Technocracy’s aggression. If the Virtual Adepts can find an alternate reality more accepting of Tradition paradigms, then every mage will finally have the freedom to realize his or her own vision.

More often though, the Adepts find themselves being called on more and more frequently to design and provide the New Horizon Council’s infrastructure; communication lines, transportation modes and security efforts are all within the purview of the modern Adept.

Though they hate to admit it, the Virtual Adepts need the protection of the Council perhaps more than any of the other Traditions. Not only do they face the same threat of extermination that all non-Technocrats face, they face an increased threat because of their betrayal of the Conventions.

Challenges

Many among the Technocracy’s older leadership still hold great bitterness toward the Adepts; They instruct their proteges, subordinates and minions to hate the Adepts, often without detailing the reasons. Further, if they were to leave the Council, the Virtual Adepts would bear the stigma of twice-betrayers, and likely would not survive long as old scores were settled.

Virtual Adepts are still the metaphorical teenagers of the Council. Rebels for rebellion’s sake, they may inspire growth and change, but they also cause dissent. Not only do the Adepts tend to disagree with the other Traditions, they also often bicker among themselves. With all the arguing, they often lose sight of the very Sleepers they claim to want to help. The Mercurial Elite must learn to temper their rebellion with maturity and wisdom.

Finally, the Virtual Adepts remain haunted by White Wednesday, wherein the Great White-Out either killed or permanently traumatized every individual that was connected to the Digital Web when it was unexpectedly reset by the Avatar Storm on November 9th, 1999. This made them hesitant for many years to rush back into what was described as Digital Web 2.0. In 2020, they must now vie with Sleepers and Technocrats in what was once their undisputed domain.

It has been noticed in recent years, that one of the consequences of the Virtual Adept’s drift towards a greater focus on the material world, their communities and the Traditions as a whole (which they are irrevocably bound to), that a fascination has developed with more mystical paradigms. This has partly inspired some among them to favor the moniker of the Mercurial Elite, embracing mysticism even as many mystics learn to accommodate technology. Ultimately, the Virtual Adepts were accepted into the Council to inspire growth and change and, to maintain their place, they must continue to grow and change themselves.

As expected, with both shamanism and technomagick becoming more popular, techno-shamanism is one of the fastest growing practices of the various sub-Traditions. First started by the Dreamspeakers, there are now techno-shamans among the ranks of the Verbena, the Sons of Ether, and even the Virtual Adepts. The essential premise of techno-shamanism is that all matter contains spirit within, but highly complex matter — like living things and pieces of advanced technology — contain particularly complex and powerful spirits.

Since humans have created all of the advanced technologies that surround us in our daily lives, techno-shamans maintain that the spirits of such items are more closely associated with humanity than any other spirits. Learning to control the lesser of such spirits and make allies of the more powerful technological spirits allows techno-shamans to function exceptionally well in urban settings and to use the devices that surround most of humanity to great advantage. Essentially, technological items work exceptionally well in the hands of techno-shamans, and in some cases seem to actually “like” them better than anyone else. Although many people talk to their cars and computers, techno-shamans know how to listen for answers and are more than happy to cultivate these items’ friendship and trust.

Techno-shamans tend to concentrate on Matter, Forces, and of course, Spirit magicks. The central doctrine of techno-shamanism is that they must work with and awaken the spirits of the objects which humanity makes and works with. As a result, most techno-shamans do not consider one of their fellows to be a full shaman until she can awaken the spirits inside material objects without aid.

Many Sleepers and even a number of mages regard techno-shamans as somewhat odd. Not only do these mages frequently talk to the devices they use, some of them become quite upset if they see someone mistreating a device, and have been known to strongly rebuke people for kicking their cars or slapping their computers. Also, as expected, almost every important object or device used by a techno-shaman will be fully awakened. Some mages have commented that they feel like they are being watched from all sides when they enter a techno-shaman’s apartment.

Techno-shaman Spells

Techno-shamanic rotes typically involve personal communication with the spirits of the targeted objects and forces. Unlike some highly traditional shamans, Techno-shamans make little distinction between affecting targets which are natural or those that are human-made. As a result, techno-shamanic magick is exceptionally good at finding ways to work within the limitations of such objects and forces, since the techno-shaman usually has the cooperation of the her target’s spirit. Many techno-shamans regard magick done without such communication to be at best inefficient, and at worst extremely rude.

Techno-shaman Instruments

When performing magick, techno-shamans use a wide range of instruments. In the vast majority of cases, these foci consist of various artifacts of modern culture. Television remote controls, computers, handguns, and even electronic children’s toys can also be used by techno-shamans to focus and control their magick. The common perception is that techno-shamans are junk-mages, picking up discarded bits of various gadgets and devices and turning these broken or obsolete consumer goods to their own ends. While there are certainly a number of techno-shamans who fit this image, many of them do not fall into this mold.

The so-called junk-mages normally live in inner-city neighborhoods or in lower-middle-class suburbs. Here, they attempt the difficult task of infusing the empty lives of those around them with wonder and enchantment. Around such individuals, ATMs may suddenly spew great quantities of money for a person withdrawing their last $20 from the bank, and computer screens sometimes display cryptic and enticing messages to bored data-entry clerks.

However, not all techno-shamans are the champions of the poor and the working class. Some techno-shamans belong to various fringe sub-cultures like punks or hackers, and struggle to openly and obviously subvert the current system so that everyone can see its weakness and injustice. Others work within the system to change it. Among the ranks of such people are journalists, engineers, scientists, filmmakers, special effects technicians and similar, well-paid professionals. Many of these mages would be horrified by the idea of using broken or obsolete technology. They use the finest electronics and the most well-made vehicles for their foci and lovingly care for and upgrade these devices so that they can be as useful and long-lasting as possible.

House Verditius

Alongside the Dreamspeakers, the Order of Hermes plays home to the greatest number of technomancers. The Hermetics have always demanded the highest level of scholarship from their members, so it comes as no surprise that many of them have found a way to apply all of those Doctorates in Engineering, Mathematics, Computer Science and Medicine to their Art. House Fortunae has spent almost a century integrating cutting-edge mathematics with their magick, and House Thig is founded upon the concept of combining the Hermetic Arts with computer and information system technology.

But the Order’s greatest beneficiary of this revolution is the re-establishment of House Verditius from its Ex Miscellanea dustbin. The House had always been famous for their work as craftsmen and toolmakers, but after the start of the Ascension War, they lost many potential recruits to the Order of Reason. Even worse, the Hermetic backlash weakened the House politically. Verditius was forced into House Ex Miscellanea and many Archmages considered the craftsmen good for little more than churning out magic rings or wands on demand. House Verditius greeted news of Doissetep’s destruction with quiet jubilation. Almost immediately, they began a campaign of growth and modernization and carefully recruited allies among the other technomancer Houses and factions. The days of rings and wands are over. Now members of House Verditius bind spirits of fire and thunder into handguns and use alchemical metallurgy to construct bulletproof cars.

Dangers and Drawbacks

As all techno-shamans are aware, they are not the only ones in the World of Darkness who blend shamanic spirituality with modern technology. Some urban-dwelling werewolves have similar methods and share similar habitats. The relationship between these two groups is complex and unstable. In a few rare instances, temporary alliances between the werewolves and the techno-shamans have allowed both groups to improve their city and drive out their common enemies. However, far more frequently the two groups find themselves in dire conflict with each other. Many werewolves feel that culling humanity is a viable solution to most of the world’s problems. Being human, all but the most misanthropic techno-shamans are naturally horrified by this idea.

Twenty years ago, the coming of the Avatar Storm cut off most techno-shamans from the Umbra, and most are still uncertain about venturing into it given the werewolves’ seemingly unnatural advantages there as supposedly half-spirit creatures themselves. Since this time, many techno-shamans have begun to more thoroughly explore the Digital Web instead and have begun making alliances with numerous web-spirits, where even tech-savvy lupines have fewer advantages.

Additionally, most techno-shamans are urbanites who have little or no experience with non-urban regions or spirits. Some Dreamspeakers claim that this lack of connection to the natural world can easily lead to an acceptance of the most damaging and toxic features of the modern world. Techno-shamans who know nothing but the blight of urban decay have few tools for improving such places, since they are unaware of any more positive alternatives. This makes any potential peace with the urban werewolves inherently unstable. In regions where these werewolves are more established, the techno-shamans could easily end up as either prey of the werewolves or as bitter rivals who these creatures hunt through the streets.

It was the Tradition Council that first formalized the Spheres of magick that we use today. Some mages mistake the Spheres for universal understanding of magick, or explain loudly that the Spheres delineate all possible magick and thus represent true reality. Like any other model proposed by man, the Spheres are merely an abstraction. They are a means to explain “magick” in theories and terms that cross the boundaries of practice and Tradition. In a sense, they are the compromise of ideas in an agglomeration that allows us to speak plainly about matters of magick. Like any compromise, they are also very general and subject to misinterpretation.

Mind to Matter to Entropy to Mind once more — this is the cosmic cycle we study. The mind gives rise to thoughts and patterns that, energized with Quintessence, become real structures of matter or force. Over the passage of space and time these disintegrate and change Spheres until they are recycled for use in making something new that arises once more from the mind.

And yet, we believe in certain constants of history and of the Tellurian, do we not? We recognize the “truth” that all things spring from the mind. Why is the mind a constant, outside of this progress? What makes it an exception? Masters of Entropy tell us that even thought is subject to change. Perhaps the mind is not always the source, but sometimes the ending. Some things may finish as little more than ideas — memories, if you will, fleeting ghosts of half-remembered feelings.

Entropy works change upon all things, so we would be foolish to assume that the cycle itself is immune. If there is a rule, there may — must — be exceptions! What of the world before human thought? Did the world exist before humanity? Most would agree that it did. But then matter was created without the intervention of the mind! Again, the cycle does not hold.

The assignment of Spheres to the cycle is a convenience, nothing more. We make generalities, but it is foolish to expect the universe to cleave constantly to them!

The study of Paradox itself occupies the mind of nearly every Tradition mage at some point, but Paradox Theory hit its high point by the end of the 19th century and then declined after the Reckoning. In brief, Paradox Theory tries to identify exactly what Paradox is, why, when and how it strikes, and what can be done to control or mitigate it. Before the modern era, the analytical tools to examine Paradox were limited; with the advent of the Reckoning, highly-experienced and knowledgeable mages are few and far between. This, of course, leaves a large gap for young mages to study and fill in.

While many mages believe Paradox to be a universal and constant (if fickle) force, careful examination shows that this view isn’t quite true. Old records show that Paradox didn’t always behave the way it does in the modern age — the Renaissance era Scourge seemed more a response from Heaven to a mage’s choice of vice or virtue, and some spirits of Scourge even brought benefits with their presence. Modern Paradox has teeth; it doesn’t offer any discounts and it never seems to manifest in a helpful, positive way (although the side effects of some backlashes are occasionally inadvertently useful).

Paradox theorists posit that Paradox obeys, in some measure, the Consensus. The global “standard” contributes to the tone of Paradox. Paradox responds when a mage stretches the Tapestry out of shape: When the mage’s workings exceed the bounds of plausibility, Paradox results as the Tapestry warps and snaps back. Similarly, excessively powerful workings, even ones that fit into the Consensus, cause such monumental changes that the Tapestry bends in response. For this reason, even an otherwise rational and scientific working of the Technocracy, if too ambitious, may well fail and cause a backlash.

While Paradox often responds to massive changes in the Tapestry, it also results in some degree from a mage’s own view of the Consensus. Many mages experience Paradox that conforms to individual standards of magick. Highly religious mages often report experiences with chastising angels or gloating demons, while technologically-oriented mages usually suffer Paradox in the form of catastrophic system failures and exploding high-tech machinery. This suggests that Paradox has something to do with individual beliefs… which in turn would suggest that Paradox itself is either a product of the mage, or malleable.

Ultimately, Paradox works as an interaction of multiple different factors. The mage’s beliefs play a small part in shaping Paradox — a mage whose workings stem from humble origins might not garner as much personally dangerous and self-defeating Paradox, while a mage’s beliefs about the Powers That Be may shape the forms of Paradox intervention (by casting spirits into certain roles or making specific traits, like stigmata or withering, especially common). Paradox also stems from the strength of the Tapestry rebounding on a mage when it’s twisted in unfamiliar or tremendously different shapes. To some degree, Paradox might even manifest as a punishment from the Avatar, or from the mage’s own conscience. It’s the interaction of all of these factors that makes up Paradox, and that’s one reason it’s so dangerous to the Traditions.

Tradition mages work against the Consensus, which means that one factor in the “Paradox equation” works much more ruthlessly against them than it does against the Technocracy. The other elements — personal belief and internal conflict — still hamper all mages; Technocrats, for instance, are just as likely to suffer from madness, explosions, shunting into different dimensions and other catastrophes that accompany tremendous Paradox…just in different forms (a Technocrat might fall through a wormhole, but is unlikely to be carried off by a demon, due to Paradox).

For Mage, Paradox serves two important purposes: thematically, it shows the failure of hubris; mechanically, it serves as a check and counterweight to powerful magick. It’s for both of these reasons that Paradox, as experienced by the Traditions, happens the way it does. To be a good thematic tool, it needs to showcase the theme element — that is, it’s stronger and meaner when the mage indulges too much in powerful, world-changing activities. To work as a balance, it must become a greater risk at higher levels of magickal strength, and it needs to be a threat across the board. Paradox represents, in many ways, the mage reaping the fruits of what he sows, and it’s not so easy to dodge responsibility.

The understanding of the Tellurian, Tapestry and the fabric of reality varies from mage to mage, naturally. Some mages have very little knowledge of the overall picture (little Cosmology Knowledge). Those mages who do study reality systems intensively often come to wildly differing conclusions. Since years of experience with Paradox, Sphere magick and the gradual change of belief systems have given the Traditions at least a little understanding, most neophyte mages hear a few terms from their tutors — enough knowledge to be dangerous, to paraphrase a saying.

The Consensus

Most Tradition mages accept that the reality of the world stems from the Consensus — the combined will of all thinking, sapient beings. The Consensus works like an outside observer that determines what’s acceptable in reality and what’s not. In turn, the Consensus directs the shape of the Tapestry out of the Tellurian. So it is that when a mage works magick, he’s rebuilding the Tapestry; works that fit the Consensus picture of the Tapestry are coincidence, while those that violate the rule of the Consensus are not.

However, mages rarely agree on what constitutes the Consensus, or why certain feats are vulgar or coincidental at different times and places. Most mages agree that the Consensus seems to flex a bit in specific locales. Some places might have a sort of mini-Consensus, where the Tapestry shows a different picture of reality and thus finds specific acts more acceptable: A mage might get away with more spectacular feats involving charms and sigils in a remote, superstitious village, or find better use of Awakened martial skills in an area influenced by mythic Asiatic mores.

Shallowings

However, areas that vary wildly from the general Consensus tear away from the Tapestry as a whole. In such places, Shallowings tend to occur; the dynamic magickal paradigm opens a tear that leaks part of the Umbra into the physical world, making magick easier there — or, as Tradition historians might point out, the Shallowing returns an area of the world to the dynamic, open state from before the creation of the Gauntlet.

The Consensus & Night-Folk

By the same token, arcane scholars don’t always agree upon the nature of the minds that form the Consensus. Some mages believe that only humans affect the Consensus. Other mages include all supernatural entities that have a tie to humanity, and a few argue that even animals have a weight on the Consensus, though perhaps their threshold of effect is lesser because of their lower degree of self- and cosmic awareness.

The Consensus & Hedge Wizards

Tradition mages often recognize that they change reality through will, but the degree to which they do so is also a subject of debate. Non-Awakened magicians don’t seem to disrupt the Tapestry too keenly, so their magic rarely suffers the backlash of Paradox. Awakened mages have more flexibility but suffer the consequences of their own rashness.

In Tradition terms, simple magics (coincidental and static) slide easily into the existing Tapestry, while outré effects violate the Consensus. When a sapient observer (a disbelieving Sleeper) isn’t present to reinforce the Consensus, effects tend to slide in a little more easily, which is why linear magicians can work reality-bending effects in private and Awakened mages suffer less Paradox in such situations.

The Consensus & Instruments

It’s true that Tradition mages talk about the Consensus of reality, about bending the Tapestry and even (occasionally) about “willworking.” However, Tradition mages also tend to agree that such feats function because the tools that they have passed down for generations rely on mythic threads that have historical inertia in the Consensus.

It’s for this reason that mages fight to make their tools and paradigms accepted: With enough time, even the historical inertia of the Traditions’ instruments might be written out of the Consensus. The average mage believes that this would mean the death of magick. In truth, magick stems more from will than from any mundane tool, but most Tradition mages don’t recognize that until they become highly enlightened. Even those mages who begin to realize the ability to discard their instruments often don’t make the connection of magick with pure will; magick remains easier with the right instruments, so obviously they play some part in the working (of course, the part they play is in strengthening the mage’s will with belief).

So it is that mages can discuss willworking, the Consensus, Paradox, Spheres and the Tapestry, and yet still have fundamental misunderstandings of the underpinnings of magick.

The real world definition of paradigm is “an example that serves as a pattern or a model.” In practice, it is an ideal which a person or group aspires to embody — the most preferable method of operation. A mage’s focus (as contained within her paradigm, practice and preferred instruments) is what she considers the best way to utilize her mystical powers. It is her way to achieve enlightenment by exemplifying a spiritual ideal. It is her metaphysical model for how, why, and when she uses her magick.

Paradigm and Belief

Belief in a chosen practice (such as in one’s ancestors, faith or hypertech) is not the same as paradigm. While paradigm is the “mystical map” to which a mage will refer, belief is the fuel for her journey to enlightenment. Paradigm is merely the litmus. It is the cord that connects the mage’s innermost beliefs to the all-encompassing truth of the Tellurian. It allows a mage to “test the waters” before using her magick. It lets her know whether or not her effect will be coincidental or vulgar. Without this crucial understanding of the Tellurian, the mage would be mercilessly battered by Paradox every time she tries to do something new.

Paradigm’s role is incredibly important, for personal belief and universal truth rarely intersect. For some mages, the desire to consolidate these two concepts into one is their drive to reach enlightenment. For others, the distinction is never made clear. Without care, these mages can approach the Quiet. After all, believing that the sun will explode sometime during the first day of the New Year doesn’t mean that the sun will actually explode. Contrary to what is espoused by popular media, belief in yourself will only get you so far before reality takes pains to expose your misconceptions in the most brutal of possible ways. The mage shakes her tiny fist at the heavens, reality notices, and then it crushes her like a bug.

Myths & Baby Neurons

To emphasize this point, consider the popularly believed myth that human beings only use 10 percent of their brains. This misconception dates back to the 1920s when scientists assumed that the larger neurons they were able to study were the only cells involved in processing information. They thought that the numerous, much smaller neurons were undeveloped “baby neurons” that weren’t yet used in cerebral activity. This belief became popular, presumably because people wanted to believe it. Even after neurologists gained a greater understanding of these cells, the belief perpetuated.

Regardless of this belief, if a person loses 90 percent of the brain, said individual will not behave as she did before. She will most likely die. Consider also a neurosurgeon who thinks that 90 percent of the brain is unimportant. As much as he believes this, the reality is that he will never be allowed to legally perform surgery, for he will never make it though medical school. In this instance, reality and belief simply don’t coincide. This delicate balance is stabilized by paradigm, for belief alone simply can’t reconcile with the cold details of the cosmos.

Paradigm Types

Traditionalists rarely get into conversations in which they blatantly say “it is my paradigm to think X, Y and Z about magick.” To the mages themselves, the concept of paradigm isn’t always an obvious one — they simply know what they believe, and why they think it works. They might not even recognize the term “paradigm” itself, depending on their background, although they would still have a theory as to why their magick works.

Discussions revolving around the minor points of differing metaphysical beliefs, can grow quite heated — nobody enjoys being told that they’re fundamentally wrong, particularly when they know they’re right. These types of discussions tend to be the metaphysical equivalents of real world arguments involving abortion, religion, gun control or race relations. It doesn’t make for a very happy Thanksgiving.

Individual mages can be said to have a “surface,” “shallow,” “strong,” or “deep” paradigm. A discussion of each type follows:

Surface

This Paradigm is directly connected to the elements of the universe, and at this stage of paradigm development, this is all the more evident. With a surface paradigm, magick tends to be seen as little more than a tool to be used through application of the Spheres. There is little complication or secret to a mage’s outlook — what you see is often what you get. This type of paradigm is most often found amongst newly Awakened mages and others without a developed understanding of mystical matters. It is also a common viewpoint for willworkers with a very black-and-white view of the world, those who have lost their conviction of universal purpose and mages with what some would call a naïvely optimistic view of the world. Elder Traditionalists often say that mages who use magick in such a way “haven’t scratched the surface of enlightenment,” which is the origin of the term.

Shallow

Some mages just haven’t had a chance to put much thought into why they know what they know, or haven’t bothered. These mages rely on certain tools and practices and might be able to give a pat explanation of them, but true depth of thought hasn’t been put behind it yet. The mage is much like a beginning student of some science: Able to work a few equations, skilled in a couple manipulations, perhaps able to recite some laws, but still baffled by the proofs behind them or the deeper importance of the theories. The mage knows what he knows, but can’t always explain why.

Strong

Most Tradition mages have a fair amount of metaphysical experience under their belt and a firm comprehension of the Awakened world’s disparate elements. They are said to have a “strong paradigm” because they have spent at least some amount of time testing theories, pushing limits and finding their own limitations. Age and experience aren’t necessarily required: a newly Awakened mage may have a strong insight into his connection with the Tellurian, though this is a very rare occurrence.

Deep

At its most complex, paradigm is synonymous with the character itself. A highly developed paradigm is so intertwined with a character’s perceptions that belief and reality begin to merge. Those few mages who have such a “deep connection to the universe” are few and far between, but are often spoken of in tones tinged with not the least amount of awe and jealousy. The tradeoff is that the deep connection works both ways. By so strongly identifying with their paradigm, it becomes possible to predict how such a character will react to any given situation.

Paradigm Styles

These Styles express a mage’s conception of how her paradigm relates to the rest of the universe:

• Rigid: Your paradigm is the one true way. Others may use magick, but they’re not using it right. You rarely cooperate well with mages outside of your Tradition, yet your intensity of belief gives you an advantage (at least starting out) in mastering the ways to alter your reality.
• Closed: Your paradigm fits a personal vision of truth. You might try to get others to see things your way: not because you think they’re wrong, but because you know how things work for you. You prefer to work with mages who share a similar mystical vs scientific bent as you. Most Tradition mages hover around here, albeit with good intentions.
• Open: You have fully internalized that your paradigm is one truth amongst many. Each mage must figure out what’s best for them, and then stick to it. You tend to get along as best you can with mages from other Traditions. This is the ideal, yet it is also much easier to claim than to put into practice. It requires decades of experience before most mages can truly claim to believe this deep down.
• Liberal: There is no “one great way to see things.” You are always learning, and you incorporate what works for others into your own paradigm. While there are rare and occasional exceptions, such mages too often find themselves hamstrung in advancing their magickal mastery owing to their lack of conviction in any single truth with which they can use as a foundation to change their reality.

Paradigmatic Self-Segregation

Some insane or Fallen mages find themselves stuck with really weird paradigms — as in, the kind that get you in jail. Maybe they screw corpses for magickal power. Maybe they skin people and wear their flesh. Maybe they think they’re living in a cartoon. The sort of stuff that makes your skin crawl.

These mages set themselves apart from normal people, by dint of their practices. Their Resonance tends to reflect this: A mage with really whacked-out practices will also have equally strange core beliefs. This sets off people’s “psycho alerts,” for lack of a better term.

It can, of course, be really, really hard to work your magick around Sleepers when you have a paradigm like this. Perhaps that is for the best.

Perhaps one of the most serious questions to ask about the Traditions, all other things aside, is: Where do they stand, morally? From this stem many other questions — What is a moral stance for a Tradition mage? How can their actions be justified, and what controls keep them from sliding into degeneration?

There are certain valid interpretations of the material presented above, where the Traditions might as well be bad guys in disguise — or, at the very least, sore losers. They’ve lost a war to guide humanity, the self-proclaimed protectors of Earth are stamping them out and they dwindle in number even as they fight bitterly among one another. Heck, they even promote dangerous ideas and want to bring back monsters, and a bunch of them are elitist bastards who believe that only the few should be at the top!

And yet, at the core of Mage (with a bunch of other stuff) is the assumption that you’re playing Tradition characters in at least a marginally heroic fashion. All Tradition mages were once just normal humans. They were people not so different from anyone else out there who woke up and realized a different destiny. This changes many of them, but it also means that they should be examined like other people.

Tradition mages have all of the moral quandaries and pitfalls of normal people, but in addition have the questions of the proper exercise of their magick. There are many, many moral issues worth exploration among the Traditions. A few include, but aren’t limited to:

• Do the Traditions have the right to decide humanity’s future? The Traditions would argue that the Technocracy wants to control humanity completely — to turn everyone into mindless drones and minions. But if that is what humanity chooses, are the Traditions right to fight it? Or is the moral course to do something hurtful in order to promote what the Traditions believe is an eventual good (the freedom of humanity from stasis)? The whole fight for global Ascension is predicated upon the notion that the Traditions know better than anyone else what’s good for humanity as a whole.

• Do the Traditions have the right to continue to exercise their magick? Very few Tradition mages would be willing to give up their magick. But what if humanity decided that it does not accept magick; the weight of the Consensus is evidence of this. Magick gradually weakens day by day compared to the Mythic Age (when was the last time you saw a dragon?). Should the Traditionalists give up? Are they struggling vainly to glorify themselves and their ego, to justify their own use of special powers that they don’t deserve or shouldn’t have?

• Do the Traditions have the right to intervene in individual lives? Many Traditions take direct action among humanity. Euthanatos police humans for those whose karmic weight is so great that they must move on to a new path along the Wheel of Fate. Virtual Adepts crack and rebuild mundane technology and distribute secrets. Choristers help in the outreach of faith and charity. But do the Traditions have the right to intervene? These mages have been given power, but morally are they obligated to use it? What gives the Traditions the right to play God, to cheat fate, to change the course of destiny and history so callously?

• Who’s to say that the Tradition idea of a “better world” truly is? Think about the Celestial Chorister who goes out and helps the homeless with charity — he makes a better world, right? What about the Euthanatos who kills corrupt politicians? The Hermetic who binds demons and consorts with the infernal to protect humans from such entities? All of these mages act upon the notion that they make the world better. But who’s to say that their vision of a “better world” is any more acceptable than someone else’s? Maybe the Technocracy, if it weren’t busy wiping out Tradition mages, would be better at rooting out corruption. Or maybe mortals should have to suffer to learn. Maybe bringing back magick is just an exercise in futile hubris, an attempt to build the world in the Tradition mage’s image.

• What are acceptable measures in the Tradition quest? Accepting for the moment that the Traditions have a right to their view and their practices, what measures are acceptable in the promotion of those views? Propaganda? Teaching magick? Using magic? Summoning spirits and dangerous Bygones? Slander? Assault? Murder? The Traditions have done all of these, and more. What’s justifiable? Do the ends justify these means, or are there some lines that should never be crossed? If the latter, where is that line drawn, and who decides? If actions that many Sleepers might view as terrorism and mass murder were required to save humanity from the extinction of creativity and self-awareness, would it be worth it?

Moral questions, by their nature, rarely have easy answers. And one person’s answer isn’t always the right answer for everyone. While many people might question the Traditions’ motives, their resolve remains strong. The Traditions fight because they are convinced that they do something worthwhile. Perhaps they’re right; perhaps they’re wrong. In the world of Mage, though, belief gives validity, and as long as the Traditions believe in the causes for which they fight, they have a wellspring of hope.

Is global Ascension real? Is it possible?

Somewhere along the timeline of the Ascension War, the Traditions decided that not only was reality up for grabs against the Technocracy, but that some master stroke could actually turn the entire world on its head. Somehow, all of humanity could be convinced to embrace a magickal world and everyone would Ascend to a better reality. To most of the old Tradition leaders, this seemed a sort of paradise solution: “Convince enough people to follow the Tradition’s dictates, and the Consensus itself would rise to a new level of enlightenment. The fight for reality would be over, because everyone would be Awakened — reality itself would be Awakened”.

So what does this mean in practice? Global Ascension, as the Traditions once viewed it, would mean the Masses coming to terms with the magickal world that every Tradition mage experiences. What’s real for mages would be real for the Masses. In short, it would be a process of reality becoming mutable again, or at least settling into a new, Tradition-friendly form. You wouldn’t have to spit, fight and struggle for Ascension, because the fact that everyone and everything around you was Awakened would make the rise to Ascension that much easier: A self-perpetuating process. The dangerous allure of global Ascension is how easily it justifies almost any atrocity to bring about.

In the past, old mages fled to the Horizon (where their longevity spells were at their most effective) and did little to contribute — while some trained apprentices or worked mighty magics, the fight for a global Ascension had to take place on the globe itself. The constant infighting of the Traditions, with each group squabbling for its own Tenth Sphere or political agenda, drew away many resources that could’ve otherwise been used for this vision and lead to tragedies like the destruction of Doissetep and the fall of Concordia.

In the modern, post-Reckoning age, most Tradition mages don’t agree with the old view of global Ascension. The idea seems to have too many problems. How to overcome Technocratic dogma and how to convince the Masses of the wonder of magick are not among them. In many ways, the world is more ready for the Tradition’s core message as of 2020 than any time since the Mythic Age. The widespread use of technology, the “magic of science” and telecommunications at the speed of light might well be a step on the road to a sort of global Ascension — just not the one that the Renaissance-era Traditions originally envisioned. There are far more troubling issues that prevent the New Horizon Council acting on it, however:

How to even agree on a mindset for a unified global Ascension that every Tradition within the Council of Nine can embrace? What about the Disparates? Whose magick would the Masses have to accept? How should it be brought about? The Ascension War — the idea that, by physically destroying enough Technocratic agents and places of power, they’d eventually cause the Union’s hold on the Masses to collapse, has been proven ill-advised. There is little doubt among the Primi of the New Horizon Council that the Technocratic Union will win an all-out shooting war.

Recruitment was the other big angle: Bring in newly-Awakened mages and teach them the Tradition mindset in hopes of strengthening the Consensus. The New Horizon Council is still optimistic about this tactic: Young mages are encouraged to involve themselves in local projects in order to slowly work their magick into the community, in a grass-roots attempt at bringing people to the Tradition viewpoint. Each convert becomes another tiny piece of support for a Tradition consensus and thus for a global Tradition Ascension.

Ultimately, global Ascension isn’t nearly the golden apple that it once was. While some older Traditionalists wistfully remember the days of fighting for a global Ascension, most find themselves bogged down in the real world. Young mages hope, first and foremost, to make a difference in the communities around them.

It remains to be seen if the pendulum will eventually swing back in the other direction.