Indistinguishable Magic
In the Clarke Academy of Magic’s grand hall, Arty the Apprentice stood expectantly in his ill-fitting robes encircled by all four Head Sorcerers. This new enchantment that the ambitious Apprentice had discovered sounded very promising, but seeing the disheveled boy before them, they now began to question its potential.
“You may proceed,” spoke the eldest of the Sorcerers.
Mustering his most resonant voice, Arty pulled an obsidian slab from his robe and croaked, “Hey Hal!” The item alit with a warmly pulsing red orb.
Like the apes before the Monolith, the magicians gazed bewildered as the gadget responded, “Yes, Arty?”
Icosahedron
A final sliver of sunset winked through the moldy cellar window. The Conjurer who had been toiling all day now prepared himself for the ultimate spell. Seated in a semicircle around the table were the most magically gifted adventures ever assembled.
Preparing for the final conjuring, he closed his eyes and, mumbling an incantation, tossed the icosahedron. The Bard, Cleric, Sorcerer, and Warlock simultaneously gasped as the die settled. Furiously scribbling in his notebook, the Conjurer smiled broadly.
The group was now complete, and before their eyes, the imaginative boy became Master of the Dungeon and visionary for their quest.
Kindernomicon (Poem)
The meek shall inherit
Every crime of lost kin
And bear an unjust burden
Of each original sin
Those born into chaos
That die without baptism
Can’t ascend to paradise
Sentenced to limbos prison
A conjurer takes heed
Distraught by unjust fate
And summons each young angel
Beyond purgatory’s gate
Countless lost souls converge
Upon a midnight clear
In the hopes of receiving
Repentance to replace fear
The kind conjurer grants
The rapt cherubic crowd
A reimagined purpose
Much higher than any cloud
As service to mankind
Adrift from lands off far
Each liberated angel
Is reborn a shining star
Kindernomicon (Prose)
Somewhere it is written that the meek shall inherit the stain of original sin and infants who pass before baptism shall be forever barred from paradise. Sickened by this injustice, the Conjurer authors a new book bestowing upon it the power to alter destiny.
Alone in a clearing he recites from the text summoning Cherubs from their purgatorial prison. Countless souls appear and gather in rapt anticipation to learn of their fate.
“For the briefly born soul I grant new purpose even loftier than any cloud!” and with a wave of his hand he reimagines each as brightly shining stars.
Mannino Acid 