d6 Where’d this wizard come from?

1. Money, this Wizard came from old money. The best tutors, the best gadgets, the best daemonic contracts– even their familiar had been in the family for generations. They grew in a world that was immersed in petty magics, in bound fae-servents and self cleaning spaces, of manifested delicacies and debaucheries without consequence. That is why they are dangerous–all the resources and knowledge, none of the sense or inherent fear of spellcraft. A grown narcissistic child with a flamethrower.

2. An apprenticeship, as was old tradition. They were selected by a master Wizard from a motley collection of village youths based on arcane and unexplained criteria. The first decade was learning to read and doing every menial chore within the Tower that their master would envision. The next decade a constant fumbling and trial-and-error learning while watching their master work. They were less taught and more absorbed by osmosis–theirs is a knowledge of a practical nature, of how by imitation rather than of why. That is why they are dangerous–they wield a power without knowing (or caring) about its source.

3. This Wizard is university trained, having spent years sequestered within the Ivory Tower campuses, learning theory and mathematics and ancient tongues. They can tell you the history of the development of Albrehkt’s Fluorescent Conjunction or how to dissect a devil without it sublimating. They understand the concepts of Metamagic and, if they pursued a Doctorate, may even know a little about ‘Patamagic. They can also tell you how much they still owe on their student loans down to the last copper–it has been metaphysically imprinted onto their soul. That is why they are dangerous–their drive for knowledge (and the power it grants) has delved them into a debt desperate enough that they are willing to do most anything to remove it.

4. This wizard’s parents were gongfarmers, their chances in life less than the shit that literally surrounded them. They learned from the scraps of parchment in the University outhouses–route written scrolls turned to bumfodder. But even these still possessed a fragment of magic–a imitation of an imitation of the reality behind reality. The strange curling letters became hooks in their brain, sticking and and seeking more–a pursuit of a high that would take them away from their station in life. Self-taught, this wizard has plumbed the depths of individual spells–committing themselves to absolutely mastering one before moving to the next, a commitment to show that they are deserving–nay obligated respect. That is why they are dangerous– they wield power for power’s sake, to look down upon the world that once looked down upon them.

5. This wizard has been a wizard for centuries. This is the latest of their bodies–grown or kidnapped or licked from primeval clay, it no longer matters how they continue, just that they do. It is much cleaner this way than pursuing lichhood, much less obvious. Their magic is stolen. Once, perhaps, they had their first taste of magic, back in their first life, learned from books or tutors or daemons. But there was an easier way, after all magic is a living thing caged inside of head-meat or parchment. Their magic is stolen. Books and scrolls smoked, heads trepanned and slurped with a straw, artifacts ground down and snorted. That is why they are dangerous–magic as an addiction, as a means to itself rather than to a true end, magic that has displaced humanity. If this wizard should ever have children, they would be sorcerers, sociopaths, or escaped spells puppeting meat.

6. This wizard was raised among witches, raised upon those who manipulate the flow of reality with light touches and subtle manipulations. They saw how the others changed lives, often without resorting to magic at all. They saw how power could be gathered, but how it was never used but in small doses and never for yourself. They saw their people sacrifice themselves for unthankful, weak minded masses. And they once saw a Wizard, who blew apart a brigand with a wave of their hand–and they wanted that. They wanted freedom from the wants and needs and demands of others, they wanted freedom in its purest cruelest form that only magic could give. Their touches remain light, their manipulations subtle, but they speak with two tongues which weave control into their words. Their movements are a dance that tugs and pulls and snaps the threads of fate around them, pulling it all into the tapestry of their own life even if it cuts others short. That is why they are dangerous–a wizard is, ultimately, a selfish creature who denies what the world has given them and has decided to change it for their own ends, the ramifications be damned.