Subject: Re: Blake's Challenge: anything you can do...
From: [email protected]
Date: 1998/12/18
Newsgroups: alt.games.whitewolf
In article <[email protected]>,
[email protected] (JLHeinig) wrote:
> Face it: Paradigm *is* firmly ensconced as a game mechanic. Would you allow
> Virtual Adept to cast a Hermetic ritual using his Spheres? No? Then why should
> he be able to perform effects that *he doesn't believe that he can do* without
> any hindrance? A mage's power all stems from belief - the mage *believes* that
> his power functions, and has the *will* and *knowledge* to carry it out. If
> mage doesn't *believe* that he has the necessary knowledge, then *he can't do
> it* - regardless of the objective outcome.
OK, stemming from the whole paradigms-vs-sphere thing. I think that any
moderately creative Mage player (me) could come up with in-paradigm
justifications for anything he wants... rendering the whole question rather
academic, when you think about it, so:
I have come to a minor, but Paradox-free umbral realm to prove a point.
Challengers my come by and demonstrate any effect (short of Adept level stuff -
I /am/ a mere Disciple, after all), they feel is so wonderfully unique that
only a member of thier own Tradition could duplicate it. I'll duplicate the
effect, and explain in nauseating detail, paradigmatically, how I managed it.
We'll start with the most painfully obvious example:
(in 3rd person, to make the writing less clumsy)
Blake finishes connecting cables and boots up the old AT. He watches the
green monochrome monitor flicker to life as he waits for the venerable 80086 to
start up an obsolete version of the Disk Invocation System (v1.2 - favored by
Virtual Adepts in the early 80's). His system ready, he casually surveys the
lush green skies and fields of clear blue grass that stretch to the horizon
of this odd little pocket-realm he has chosen only for it's complete lack
of paradox, as he waits for the first challenger..
Before long, a huge eagle descends from the skies, and deposits a shabbily
dressed man on the pristine azure lawn. The man looks like a homeless street-
person, save for the look of quite wisdom and unshakeable confidence in his
eyes. "You seek a lesson?" The stranger's resonant voice quietly fills the realm.
"Well sorta," Blake answers, in a much less impressive tone. "I'm trying
to like make a point... there's all this crap on the net lately about paradigms
and superiority and whatnot..."
The newcomer raises one hand for silence. "Very Well." He throws aside his
grungy trenchcoat, revealing a buckskin shirt covered with intricate geometric
beadwork - unlike the rest of his clothes, it's meticulously clean. The
Dreamspeaker - for such he obviously is - raises his hands to the sky and
chants.
In moments, clouds roll in - grey, ominous, and much more real-seeming than the
realm itself. Thunder deafens the two magi, as the Dreamspeaker stops his
chanting. Instead, he speaks a few words ... lost in the rolling thunder...
and hurls a handful of powder into the air. As suddenly as they apeared
the clouds vanish, and all is as it was.
"Weather control?" Blake sounds anoyed. "That's an Adept's trick - I specific..."
"/That/," The shaman interupts, "Was Grandfather Thunder."
"Ah... that would explain it..." Blake turns back to his computer, checking
a log file, he confirms that it was a 'simple' spirit effect. "Now, I can
duplicate what you did, but the actual results..." Blake trails off as the
computer absorbs his attention... The hardest part is finding the spirit's
designation, Amerind imagery is unfamiliar to him. The basic parameters
have to be pretty broad, so the search routine thrashes for quite a while,
going through many spirits and mythologies, before it uniquely identifies
the spirit called 'Grandfather Thunder.' After that, it's fairly simple
to plug the designation into an apropriate module. Blake normally calls only
very minor spirits, so he has to extensively re-write his Attack Geomid
Subroutine Call module before he feels ready to make the attempt (he
dismisses the more generic spirit-calling he can perform with his cellphone,
as innadequate, since it doesn't call on the spirit to manifest).
"OK," Blake says to his guest, who's looking rather bored and incresingly
skeptical. "That should do it." He hits [enter]. The computer's 9600 baud
modem (everybody knows they work best for techno-magick, even It-X ;) ...)
dails an increadibly long number and rings for quite a while... the 'handshake'
when it comes is a low rythic pulse, instead of the usual beeping and
twittering.
As before, the sky goes dark as thunder clouds roll in. Blake smiles, "I'll
bet you thought I missed the second bit." He takes a pager from his belt and
punches a few buttons, it vibrates briefly, just as the Thunder becomes really
deafening, and releases a stream of quintessence along it's carrier wave, into
the clouds.
A tense moment later, the clouds have not parted. Instead, there is an instant
of ominous silence, and Blake's old AT computer is blown to bits by a bolt
of lighting. Then, the clouds dissipate as before.
Blake picks himself up and prushes transparent blue grass of the grey tropical
wool of his suit. "Well, did it." He surveys the wreckage of his system with
something less than triumph.
The Dreamspeaker pauses as he dons his trenchcoat, "You Failed."
"Not eactly: I /did/ summoned the old guy, /and/ I gave him a little quint in
tribute just like you did." Blake looks up at the clear green sky. "He just
didn't much care for my company.... But, I did perform exactly the same
magicks as you did yourself. The personal prejudices of the spirit in question
not withstanding. I think that makes my point."
"Not much of a point." As he speaks, a shadow falls over him. With a rush
of wind, Eagle, answering the silent call of one who know the ways of the
spirits better than any upstart hacker ever could, bears him away.
--
Blake 1001, Virtual Adept, Disciple
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/1317/
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