As in, “to profess.” AKA the Magus.

Philosophers, Plato said, are seekers of wisdom, because they love wisdom, and because they lack it. (Plato’s teacher, Socrates, was held to be the wisest man in Greece because he knew the extent of his own ignorance.) Sages, on the other hand, do not love wisdom, and do not pursue wisdom, because they already possess it. In Plato’s mind, there were only two kinds of people who ignored philosophy: sages and fools.

The modern Occult Underground knows the “philosopher” as the Scholar, and the “sage” as the Professor. In the early 20th century, the archetype of the Professor was referred to as the Magus, although as far as anybody can tell, nobody has ascended since then, and the archetype doesn’t seem to have changed. The Professors refuse to talk about it, although some of the most powerful ones still refer to themselves as Magi from time to time.

Professors are experts in their fields, and beyond that, they seem to know everything. Unlike the Scholar, however, the archetype of the Professor has little to do with discovering and accumulating knowledge. The Professor is already knowledgable, or at least seems to be. For the Scholar, it is a grave taboo to refuse an opportunity for learning, but for the Professor, such refusal may even strengthen his connection to the archetype – “what, do you think I don’t already know that? What kind of amateur do you take me for?”

Every Professor is known for a particular field of knowledge which seems incomprehensible to anyone who has not been properly initiated. Quantum physics, critical theory, and Authentic Thaumaturgy are all particularly suitable fields of knowledge, but any field can be appropriate, if the Professor talks about it with an appropriate amount of mystifying jargon – there are low-level Professor avatars working in every different field, from carpentry to fashion design to dry cleaning.

Since the Professor has mastered an obscure and complex topic, people often imagine that his knowledge extends to all things.

Taboos: A Professor must not share their knowledge with the uninitiated. They may discuss their field of expertise, but they may not educate anybody outside of the proper context. It is, however, permissible for them to take on any number of apprentices or students, but only under some sort of formal agreement (but even then, things tend to be fairly cryptic). It is also permissible for them to publish books and other written materials for public distribution, so long as these are written in impenetrable jargon.

Secondly, a true Professor may never admit ignorance about any topic, no matter how mundane. He may refuse to answer, he may redirect the querant towards another person, he may theorise about hypothetical answers to the question, but he may never say “I don’t know.” Being regarded as ignorant can impede further advancement as a Professor, but admitting one’s own ignorance is to turn one’s back on the archetype.

Symbols: The Magus-Professor is associated with the wand, sword, cup and pentacle, piles of books, eyeglasses, illegible handwriting, the peaked hat, and the lonely room with candles burning all night.

Masks: Merlin and King Solomon are mythic leaders known for wisdom which extends even into the realm of the supernatural. Oracles, like the head of Mimir, and lawgivers, like Moses or Thoth, are also masks of this archetype – they dispense the Word, and if you disagree with them, or don’t understand what it means… well, that’s too bad. In film, cryptic mentors like Yoda and Mr. Miyagi teach their students valuable lessons that make no sense until they’re complete.

Suspected avatars in hisory: Most of the better-known occultists of the 20th century are likely choices for Magus avatars – Aleister Crowley, Samuel Mathers and Gerald Gardner. Sigmund Freud could have been a powerful Professor, if only he had pretended to understand women. Some people think that Gilles Deleuze was the godwalker in the 1980s, although nobody knows who holds the title today.

Channels:

1-50%: The Professor may flip flop any roll for speaking or writing about their field of knowledge, so long as the result is less than their avatar skill. This applies not only to their knowledge skill itself, but also to charm and lie rolls, or any other relevant skills, so long as they are speaking as an “expert.”

51-70%: The Professor’s logic cuts to the heart of things – and of people. He can now speak to someone who has a strongly-held opinion, and with a few choice words, he can drive them into an existential crisis. The Professor must have some knowledge of what that person believes, and their reason for believing it, and they must present a plausible (though not necessarily compelling) argument for why the target’s beliefs are wrong. With a successful avatar roll, the Professor can force their target to make a stress check, as they seriously consider that perhaps the world isn’t what they had believed it to be. In some cases, they might actually convince a person that they really are wrong.

71-90%: At this stage, the Magus-Professor gains a bizarre, cryptic insight. He must concentrate on a simple question, like “where the hell are my car keys,” and roll his avatar skill. If he succeeds, he will intuitively learn something that will help him answer that question – for example, if his mystical insight tells him “it will be really cold tonight”, it will turn out that his keys were in his jacket pocket. The insight will not always be useful, but it will usually make the Professor seem like he knows far more about the situation than he was letting on.

91%+: At this stage, the Magus can use his strange, magical wisdom to invoke the true names of demons (which, admittedly, are usually just things like “Jake Chapman” or “Heather Smith” or whatever). By making a successful avatar roll, the Magus can speak the demon’s true name and compel it to obey his commands. Of course, demons can still do an intentionally crappy job, or misinterpret his words, or whatever, if they think it’ll help them get back to doing whatever it is they want to be doing.

WHAT YOU HEAR: The current godwalker of the Magus died a long time ago. The clever bastard’s godwalker channel, however, was that he was able to choose who would succeed him as the next godwalker, and he never did that before he died. He’s somehow managed to channel the archetype from beyond the grave, and is still looking for a worthy successor.