ANDERS MAGE PAGE 2.0

This piece is intended for lighthearted side stories between major events in chronicles. Remind your players that not every day in the life of a mage is dramatic or dangerous.

Most Excellent Thorinae, Magus of the Blue Circle. As requested, I submit this report on the realm mentioned in journals kept by members of our Order in the 19th century. Your instincts were flawless and the curious realm mentioned does indeed exist in an obscure corner of the Astral Plains. My resources were taxed in the search so I am of course comforted by the thought that my report will aid the treatise taking shape on your desk on the correlations between the Resonance Effect and cultural influences on paradigm rigidity.

I have recorded the information needed to retrace my steps to the realm as you requested. I have given it to old Sorbensen to enter properly into the records and won’t clutter this report.

Upon my first visit to the realm (prior journals don’t name it so I shall reserve that honor for you) I was taken aback by the magnitude of what I saw. After entering an unlocked door in a building front that could belong in any British city a few decades ago I stood in a gigantic room that stretched out farther than I could perceive. The only wall I could see was the one behind me (although posts were visible throughout the space).

The enormous room was filled with evenly spaced desks and at each sat a short, bald man with a beard streaked with black and gray. Each man was not only dressed identically but had the same face. Each was focused on papers, folders or similar items on their desk. The desks were not richly appointed but made of real wood and showed signs of wear. They would appear natural in any clerical office in Europe and probably the rest of the Western world before more modern materials replaced them. The smell that clung there was unmistakable to one of our Order. The smell of an old book shop, a classroom, an old barn. Long storage, old papers and… history.

The workers did not wear name tags and the desks gave no indication of name or title. Each man seemed intent on his work but on one desk I saw a carving gouge and wood shavings underneath the desk. Another desk couldn’t conceal a novel beneath a folder. The men were short and wore identical spectacles. They suggested gnomes from traditional tales but were not obviously non-human.

The journal accounts that began this investigation spoke of a sort of universal office of lost property – what the Americans call a lost and found. We shouldn’t be surprised to find that one exists in the High Umbra. My knowledge of foreign lands is weak but in the West people long spoke of imps that stole misplaced items and secreted them away in caves underground. Later, people couldn’t shake the notion of gnomes or similar fey creatures grabbing household items and spiriting them away. I had found this domain that so many people have insisted must be there.

The clerks ignored me. I chose a desk and introduced myself to a little man who showed no interest. After insisting he asked what he could do for me. I tried to learn his name but found it an impossible task. At one point I foolishly asked, “Can I have your name?” He said they didn’t keep names and I should enquire at a different office if it was a name I had lost. When I directly asked what his name was he explained how the function he performed in that place was far more important than anything people might want to call him.

He wasn’t rude but certainly did not desire to be helpful. My questions about the office in which he worked produced very little results. Other clerks were basically the same. When they finally asked what I had lost I had trouble thinking of an answer. I was soon shown the door.

For my second visit I tested a theory. I traveled with an ally from the Akashic Brotherhood named Li Chen. I gave him directions to the realm and let him believe that the spirit he sought was there. I followed and behaved appropriately for a servant. When we reached the realm the building looked distinctly Chinese. The clerks appeared as Chinese men and sat at desks I’d expect to see in government offices in Beijing in the 18th century. Li Chen was confused. I took advantage of his hesitation (I’m sure he’ll forgive me later) and seized the attention of one of the clerks to describe the pen I’d lost.

The clerk questioned me in a perfunctory manner. I expected him to ask where I lived and how long ago I lost the item but instead he wanted to know how long I’d owned the pen and where I usually kept it. The questions seemed to go on endlessly and I felt my temper rising. Switching tactics I feigned despair and wondered aloud if I’d ever see grandfather’s pen again. The mood of the place altered immediately. Clerks gathered about me and reassured me they could help. The clerk at whose desk I stood looked me fully in the face for the first time and became most helpful.

After jotting something down the clerk lead me to a stair I hadn’t seen before leading down. After many flights of stairs and long passageways we at last found a little door marked “Storage”. Through it I found a huge space that made me stop short in wonder. A stone floor stretched out in all directions endlessly. Massive pillars supported a vaulted ceiling that faded in the distance overhead.

Everywhere were containers of every description: wooden crates, cardboard boxes, packages in brown paper and twine, festively wrapped boxes, newspaper and duct tape, plastic containers, industrial metal boxes – that only touches on the variety I beheld. Everywhere these containers stacked up to make towers far over my head. Aisles allowed us to thread our way between. As we walked through this cyclopean space I saw a large section with vases, clay and stone jars with lids secured by rope and many other cylindrical vessels.

Signs did not appear anywhere. The clerk who was now guide knew the place as I know the halls of my own Chantry. After much walking we reached a section where the boxes held writing implements. I looked through boxes but watched for chances to explore further. While my guide worked with a stubborn crate I scrambled up a particularly sturdy stack and confirmed my belief that this cosmic warehouse went on as far as my eyes could see. In the distance I saw ships of all descriptions lying at angles on the stone floor.

I accepted a nice-looking fountain pen that reminded me of my grandfather. My guide was pleased and began the trip back. He chatted amiably now about how his work was worthwhile. I remarked on a cloud I saw floating far overhead. “We couldn’t get that into a box,” he said cryptically. I paused in disbelief. Who loses clouds?

I hope this account proves useful. The skills I learned while trying to find the curious realm will serve me well in the future. As I’ve seen no further requests, I’ll return to the cataloging effort I began on ritual components for the third circle of imperatives of Magna Primus. The delegate from the Akashic Chantry Li Chen calls home did not arrive this week. Are you aware of any changes in the Council’s schedule?

Your faithful apprentice,
Alec, Order of Hermes
Who is relieved to at last end an assignment where so much time was required in such a frivolous place.

Inspired by Lost and Founderd by Alasdair Stuart.