“Are you crafting?” Ashera asked, looking perplexed. “I have never seen anybody work with bone before.”
“Not on its own,” Elora agreed.
Fitting the [Crystal Manashard] back into the crossguard of the sword, Hal looked up at each of them. “It’s an Essence thing I can do, part of being Beastborne but this feels… like there’s more here. It’s hard to explain.”
What he was doing felt advanced but it also barely scratched the surface. There was more to working with bone than he was doing. Was there a deeper crafting system at work behind the scenes just waiting to be discovered?
Hal was determined to find out.
Over the next few hours, his friends gradually went about their business. Mira hovered over him, entranced by what he was doing and for once staying absolutely quiet.
There was something soothing about working with bone. The shaping and reshaping, the small refinements he was able to pursue. Each act was important and because he created the bone he still felt that thread of connection. He could control it, contort it, and shape it as he desired with only a thin trickle of mana.
No tools, no forge, no worrying about temperatures or finding materials. He had everything he needed in the palms of his hands.
Mira handed him a bowl of stew, when it became apparent he wasn’t about to get up for something so trivial as food. Hal was fully entranced in the creation process.
As the sun began to slant in harsh blinding angles through the westerly windows of the wagon, Hal took a break from his work to look at his creation. Over the past few hours, he learned a great deal about how to improve his work.
The second stage of the design, called the refinement, was where he had utter control over the shape and appearance of the item. He could lengthen, flatten, anything that did not drastically change the original dimensions of the item.
He could make the blade narrower by condensing it or he could make it slightly larger by expanding, it creating hollow spaces within the structure. The latter made the weapon stronger and more durable while the former made the weapon lighter for its size but the trade-off was a loss in strength and durability.
If he had made a much larger weapon and condensed it down, he was certain that he could make a superior weapon. But to do so would expend more MP than he currently had. The bone falchion he made had taken a little over 600 MP to create.
I’ll leave that experimentation for another time, he thought. Once I have more MP and access to potions that can restore it easily I can try to forge another weapon using everything I’ve learned.
The refinement stage also allowed him to add things to the design. His [Empyreal Shardite], and his [Crystal Manashard] were two such examples. The weapon seemed to have a limited number of slots to take such items into its creation. At the moment, Hal was only able to place the [Crystal Manashard] which dramatically improved its strength and made it spark with harmless electricity, and a single [Empyreal Shardite].
While the [Crystal Manashard] found its home in the center of the crossguard, the yellow-to-blue shifting [Empyreal Shardite] stretched and thinned, coating its leading edge in a layer of the crystalline substance.
At any point, Hal could remove the items by force of will, or move them around as he so chose. But he found that the places automatically assigned were suited to his purposes. And so he ate and worked.
The hours whiled away as Hal found himself stretched to his limit, no longer able to improve upon the blade during the refinement stage. Try as he might he could not fold the blade anymore, could not condense it a single atom more.
It was time to move on.
Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)
Design Process: Stage II (Refinement)
Damage: 34
Bonus Points: 12
Enchantments: 1
Durability: 700/700
The system was waiting for him to press on to the next stage. With a mental confirmation, he did. A white light enveloped the blade, and Hal felt the material below his hands stiffen. He knew, intrinsically that the physical form of the weapon was permanently set as if he had forged and quenched a metal blade itself.
Any changes he wanted to make to the core facets of the blade would require the entire thing to be remade. Considering that throughout the course of a full day Hal was only on the third stage, he had no intention of altering the weapon any further at the moment.
Mira touched Hal’s shoulder and he started. At some point, she sat next to him on his bunk and she was so still and quiet that Hal hardly realized she was there. “Didn’t mean to scare you, flesh boy,” she said with a smirk. Mira jerked her chin toward the blade. “Is it done?”
Hal looked at the weapon, focusing on it.
Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)
Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)
Damage: 34
Bonus Points: 12
Enchantments: 1
Durability: 700/700
Details:
Empyreal Shardite Edge
Compressed Bone
Aspected Core
He shook his head. “No, this is just another stage.”
“Can you use it now though?” Mira asked, leaning a little too close and practically breathing on him while she gawked at the weapon.
“I’m not sure.”
For most of the process, Hal laid the blade on his lap and hovered his hands above the blade, directing his mana into it on an instinctual level. He knew that he could still feed the weapon mana, it was waiting for it actually, but he could no longer shape it.
For the first time in several hours, Hal got to his feet and gripped the weapon by its hilt. Form-fitted to his exact grip, the bony ridged material wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought.
The first thing he noticed, aside from his momentarily weakened legs, was how light the weapon was. It was like a feather compared to even the smallest sword he had wielded.
While there wasn’t much room in the moving wagon, Hal was able to get a few practice thrusts in and found himself overbalancing with the blade. He was so used to a weightier weapon that he was putting too much force into each thrust, leaning too far forward in the process.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” he said, more to himself than anybody else.
Mira surged to her feet and extended her hand. “May I?”
With a shrug, Hal handed her the unfinished weapon. Though it was still quite a lot stronger than [Brilliance], something Hal took secret pride in.
It was one thing to make a weapon on par with his old gifted blade, it was something entirely else to make a weapon that surpassed it. There was nothing inherently wrong with [Brilliance], aside from the fact that Hal never could figure out how to trigger its blind enchantment.
[Briliance] wasn’t his sword though. No matter how much he wanted to wield it in honor of Thirty-seven, it would never be his. Perhaps the blade knew it on some level and never gave Hal access to its full strength.
In either case, as Hal watched Mira make inexpert jabs and pokes at the air with the blade, he felt a sense of pride in his creation. Straight blades simply were not his preferred style. Double-sided blades less so.
Even while using a chain in his off-hand, he could use that other hand to brace the blunt side of the blade if he needed. Not so with a double-sided blade. It required a different set of tactics that he found he was either ill-suited for, or simply did not enjoy.
The curved tip allowed Hal to make smoother, longer cuts without snagging the tip on bone or armor. Something that happened a little too frequently with [Brilliance] for Hal’s tastes.
Straight-blades with double-edges made sense for Thirty-seven. And for anybody else who wielded a shield in their off-hand, he supposed. With only one hand to maneuver the weapon, they could cut on the backswing without having to twist their wrist around.
Something Hal did automatically and without much thought, stealing one of the benefits of a double-edged weapon
.
The wagon stopped and Hal immediately found his gaze lingering on the pitch-black window. How long had he worked on the sword?
It was something he meant to do only to pass the time but if the wagons were already stopping it was late. In fact, judging by the darkness outside they should have stopped some time ago to set up camp. It wasn’t safe to travel in the dark, even with the keen-eyed Rangers keeping watch.
“What’s going on?” Hal asked, his voice croaking from lack of water.
Mira handed him the weapon back. “I dunno, why don’t we go see?”
Taking it, Hal headed toward the rear door of the wagon and opened it. He hopped down to the ground, right in front of a surprised Angram. His ruby eyes sparkled with mirth as he regarded Hal.
“Your directions proved worthwhile after all,” he said with that perpetual smirk of his. “We’re here.” And with a grand sweep of his lean arm, Angram indicated the tall narrow bluff that climbed above the circle of wagons to the east.
Hal knew what would be standing there but he was still surprised to see the subtle starlight glow of the single unbroken arch at the edge. His goal was finally in sight after so many weeks of travel.
40
Standing before the lone arch in the middle of a ruined temple entrance, Hal took a deep breath. His friends surrounded him, of course, as did every last Ranger and a few of Durvin’s most accomplished fighters.
As much as Hal hated the pomp and ceremony, he knew the caravan would be well-protected with dozens of capable dwarven fighters still on edge after the Manastorm yesterday.
He tried to explain that nobody else could go in with him, but they came anyway. Everybody wanted to see the Manaseed.
The Shadow Sages as Hal referred to them – they never named themselves or their affiliations as far as Hal could tell – gave him the location of the Manaseed. More than the location, they explained that it was protected by potent wards.
Wards that Hal couldn’t hope to overcome. But with the right knowledge, he could walk right through them.
Armed with that knowledge, Hal trusted their guidance. The deal had been struck between them. He found himself believing them. They just wanted to go home. He doubted they had any reason to lie.
Without a Manaseed, much less a Manatree, he was not going to come back from death again. Noth put a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers dug into his skin beneath the simple jacket he wore over his shirt.
He wore no armor, no weapons, and did his best to hold no ill-intent in his heart. Just as the Shadow Sages had instructed.
“Are you sure about this?” Noth asked, lowering her voice so only Hal could hear. “I have traveled between planes, you might be able to use me.”
Hal shook his head. “They were clear. Only a single person may enter. Unless you want to go all the way around to the north, south, or east from here to those entrances.” Hal pointed out the three distant similar rises that ended in crystallized bluffs.
The wind whipped back Hal’s simple shirt and his hair that had grown long enough to cover his ears in wavy black curtains. He would need to get it cut soon but it was so far beneath his priorities that he doubted it would be done within the month.
With sheer crystalized cliffs that fell over a hundred feet to the waters that gathered from three the lakes below. In the silvery bandlight, the waters shimmered like curdled moonlight.
Some terrible tragedy befell this place long ago. Before Rinbast, maybe even before any Founders. The ruins were lost to the ravages of time, except for four arches at each of these points high up on a rise that overlooked the lakes below and the river that joined them.
From what little Hal understood, the Mirrorlands and surrounding regions were once lush and green. To the north and east were towering mushroom groves. Wide capped purple fungi that shaded the land in darkness. Spindly bioluminescent things that Hal could clearly make out miles away.
It was as alien a place as the Mirrorlands. Perhaps more so.
“At least let us tie a rope around ye, boy!” Durvin cried out in frustration.
The arch stood at the very edge of the bluff. To pass through it, he would exit out over empty space. Though the Shadow Sages had been confident that he would exit at a different location, the thought still sent chills down his spine.
But to let Durvin or anybody tether him would negate the magic at work.
“I already explained, Durvin,” Hal said. “If you are all so dead set on waiting here, then wait. There is not much else you can do, I shouldn’t be long.”
“Ye won’t be long alive if’n ye fall off the durned cliff, boy!” Durvin kicked a rock then paced back and forth. “Dagdamora, Hal! Ye gonna give an old dwarf an ulcer.” He waved his thick-fingered hand. “Be off with ye then. The sooner ye get gone the sooner this business is behind us.”
Hal clapped Durvin on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Durvin.”
With one last look around at his friends, Hal walked up to the arch. It glittered with starlight, made of some clear, lucent material that trapped the night sky within its glassy confines.
There was no magic he could see about the arch. Nothing that suggested it was anything more than a beautiful sculpture of ancient and indeterminate material.
He stepped through, shutting his eyes and focusing on his goal. There was no ill-intent in his desire to build a Sanctum. To provide safety to people – and monsters – who lived in a world as savage as Aldim. Where a Manastorm could sweep decades of buildings away, changing them into something unrecognizable while monsters devoured the survivors.
A warm breeze puffed past his cheek as he stepped through the archway. Despite everything he told himself, he expected his next footfall to plunge through the open air.
It struck solid stone.
Mornheim.
Your Exploration Skill has risen to Level 7.
+10% Faster drawing speed (+10%).
+3% Discoverable range (+21%).
Opening his eyes, Hal took a look around. Warm sunlight fell upon a gorgeous temple of white stone flecked with quartz that glittered in the mid-afternoon light.
A fragrant scent of incense wafted over him on the breeze. Fluted columns marched off in every direction, with yellowing summer grass threaded between the worn flagstones at his feet.
He was at a crossroads.
Hal entered the pavilion, thick beams of stone created wide lines of shadow on the flooring. Each of the cardinal directions held a similar archway as the one he entered from. He knew they would be indistinguishable but for a single mark, one that he knew to look for.
Perhaps now, with his significantly higher INT, if he spoke to the Shadow Sages he would be able to remember their directions. They originally gave him every turn and path he needed to take. But back then, he couldn’t commit it all to memory.
Though they had put the information directly into his mind, it had slowly leaked out over the intervening weeks until it felt murky and vague.
He knew to look for a constellation within the stars of the arches. A constellation that would never be in the same place twice, which meant he needed to examine each archway carefully.
Time, the Shadow Sages had told him, did not flow properly within Mornheim.
Hal went to the first archway on his left, purely as a habit of picking the leftmost choice first. That way he could work his way around. While each pavilion would have four arches, the one he came through would not count. Entering that would bring him back to the archway he first used back in the Mirrorlands.
If that happened, he would need to wait until the next night to try again.
Bending his focus to the task, Hal inspected the archway from the bottom up. Halfway up the left side of the arch, he found what he was looking for. A constellation in the shape of an archer.
Your Investigation has risen to Level 11.
+1% Investigation speed (+11%).
+2% Investigation success (+22%).
It looked more like a stick figure t
o him, but it was clear enough amid the other shapes the stars created. He saw many more constellations as he took a moment to examine the rest of the arch. Monsters and men, a great hammer poised to strike an anvil, and a tall tower like that of a castle’s turret.
They were easier to spot if he relaxed his eyes and didn’t focus on the individual stars but on the overall pattern.
While the urge to check the other arches was strong, Hal walked through the archway. Instead of the grassy garden filled with cypress, lemon, and olive trees, Hal stepped into another semi-shaded pavilion.
Only this time he approached from the south, instead of the west as he would have expected. With a shrug, Hal went to the next arch on his left. Finding no pattern there, he went to the next and found it within a few seconds.
Time and time again, Hal passed through the arches. Each time he did, the scenery grew a little darker, a little colder. All the while his Investigation was steadily rising, and with its increased skill he found it easier to spot the constellation.
Until, upon his twentieth archway, he entered onto a scene of dusk. An omnipresent whistling wind could be heard in the distance and the air had turned frigid. Gone were the warm fragrant breezes and soft sunlight.
There was only mounting darkness and a gathering storm that pressed in on him menacingly.
Your Investigation has risen to Level 14.
+1% Investigation speed (+14%).
+2% Investigation success (+28%).
He bundled his jacket tightly around himself and pressed on. Another arch, and another beyond that, until finally upon his twenty-fifth arch he walked into a different scene.
Rain poured from the heavens, battering the stones and the lone withered tree that stood before him, enshrined in the same starry material that made the archways.
His recognition of the massive tree was instant, even its pathetic state. It was a Manatree. His heart sank at the condition of it. But within the dead blackened branches, he felt a spark of life. A tiny ember of hope glimmered at the end of one long, gnarled twig.
Beastborne Page 25