The Mathars of Algebron, as you all know, are a strangely clandestine group despite being consistently in the public, great and all seeing, eye. Their exploits among the kingdoms of Geometril are well documented, but not much is known about their day to day lives. Years ago I was given the opportunity to ride along with the Mathars on one of their Ignoremi; a crusade against the peoples of the Southern Realms.
Upon arriving at the Mathar encampment — which they refer to as an encompfrence — I was greeted by Cir Lonj, a beknighted of Algebron. The ceremonial Mathar greeting involves bowing at an exact seventy-three degree angle; this feat doubles as the first of thirty-three initiation tests of the sect. Cir Lonj introduced me to the other Mathars who would be accompanying us on our Ignoremi: Cir Mathias, Cir Radium and Cir Varriabel, all apointed directly my King Pythagoras. Just as introductions had concluded three short blasts from a horn drew the attention of the warriors.
“To arms, brothers!”, Cir Lonj rang out the call.
As part of each Mathars training they befriend a winged Duocorn. These beasts begin life as common Unicorn but through the close bonds they form with their Mathar partner grow a second horn and that represents friendship and solidarity. The second horn of a Duocorn is used for some powerful multiplicative invocations and are sought after by some darker wizards in their pursuit of the True-Mirror spell. Wings complete the transformation of the Unicorn into Duocorn through a ritual where feathers from the crowns of Hippocon, large birds of prey from the Cumfrence Mountains. Duocorn are modest beasts considering their pedigree.
The call rang out and the knights mounted. I followed along, using a simple flight spell, as I am not a Mathar and do not possess a Duocorn. Our target was the a small town just inside the influence of the Southern Realms. The Southern Realms are well known for their resistance to the Algebron empire, some observers have said the Southern Realms would be well served to accept Algebron dominance, others are not so sure. The simple fact at the moment was that our Ignoremi had begun and I was watching with wide eyes.
Each book fell with a solid thud and created a square crater where it landed. Some of the huts the Realmers called homes were hit by the tomes and straw and clay exploded upward into the paths of the swooping troopers. Citizenry went running and screaming through the dirt roads of the town; a few of them stopped and looked down at the books laying in the craters, flipping open their covers and leafing through the pages as if none of the surrounding chaos was present.
As the last tome fell, the din calmed. The villagers who had taken up looking at the books began to pick them up and try to show them to their fellow Realmers. Many ignored them, some scowled or belittled them. Whatever the outcome of these events, the Mathars did not tarry to discover it. The Ignoremi was complete, the Mathars had delivered their payload of precisely eighty-six Books of Algebron. As they set course for their Kingdom they waved me off, as the post Ignoremi rituals are not for oursiders eyes.
The appearance of the Mathars is proud and noble, but are their methods sound? Does the battle between the Southern Realms and Algebron need such specialized forces of math destruction? This wizard makes no such judgment, but he does appreciate a good pie.