by C. M. Carney
Rune-forms were channeling and focusing devices that allowed a skilled practitioner of Ritual Magic to harness vast amounts of mana into a spell effect. Unlike traditional spells, rune-forms could tap into the mana stores of other people. The results were incredible and often permanent.
Gryph closed his eyes and moved his will along the curves and whorls of the rune-form, seeking the trigger that would allow him to power it down. If Exuum’s journal was accurate, then two wondrous prizes lay hidden here.
To win them, he needed to decode and deactivate the cloaking rune-form. Moving his mind along the pathways of the complex drawing started easily, but as his mind filled more and more of the rune-form, the resistance became thicker, like wading through an avalanche of thick, wet snow.
As his consciousness moved through the rune-form, seeking one rune among hundreds, the mana stored in the pattern had less space to occupy. Less space meant more resistance. The pressure grew, and he felt like he was wriggling through cloying mud with his arms bound behind his back. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he flowed over the runes, their meaning instantly known to him thanks to his Prime Godhead.
The mote of pure creation had bonded with him when he first entered the Realms. It granted him an array of fantastic abilities, but it was the easily overlooked Gift of Tongues perk that was proving its worth now. It enabled him to understand virtually any language he heard or read as if it were his native tongue.
From his research, he’d learned that runes were the written form of the ancient language of dragons, and they held power within their curves and lines. Dragons had died out millennia ago and with their passing, and the twin apocalypses of the Ruin and the Prime invasion, knowledge of their language had all but disappeared. He was likely one of the few beings on Korynn capable of deriving meaning from the ancient draconic words.
Pushing through the rune-form took so much of his focus, that he nearly missed the rune he sought. The rune that meant End in draconic. The ritual mage had hidden the character well, secreting it inside a decorative whorl in a last-ditch defense to protect his treasure. Gryph pulsed mana into the rune, smiling as the entire rune-form pulsed with power and blinked out.
“Awesome,” Lex said.
Gryph opened his eyes. At the center of the rune-form a three-tiered dais had appeared. Atop the raised platform lay a large chest of deep brown, almost black wood clad in bands of platinum colored metal. Before he could stand, Lex rushed forward, his hand reaching out.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Vonn warned.
Lex pulled his hand back like a child discovering the pain of an open fire and spun to look at the roguish templar. “Why not?”
“It’s a mimic,” Vonn said picking at his teeth with an ivory pic.
“A what?” Lex asked, backing away.
“A mimic. A shape-shifting creature that disguises itself as a chest or a door or any manner of other mundane objects, waiting for some gullible sap to get close before … SNAP … it chomps a hand off.”
Lex stumbled backwards, wide eyes on the chest. “Are you for real?”
“Course not. What kinda twisted bastard would you have to be to create a creature like that? But thanks for proving your gullibility.”
“You’re a real asshole you know that,” Lex said.
The rogue shrugged. “Embrace who you are.”
Vonn knelt before the chest, examining it with his high Perception. He slipped a set of lock picks into a barely perceptible hole and a moment later the lock clicked. He opened the chest and motioned to Gryph. “It’s clean.”
Gryph nodded his thanks and looked into the chest. Two items sat in the padded interior; a large book clad in the leather of some scaled beast. A heavy metal clasp secured it shut. Next to the book was a squashed ovoid sphere constructed from interconnecting plates of metal. It was the size and shape of a loaf of round Italian bread. Gryph lifted the book gingerly and triggered Identify.
You have found the Codex of Ritual Wonder by Grandmaster Syndravion.
Item Class: Major - Item Category: Active
Codices are powerful magical books that contain a small portion of the memories and powers of the mage that created them. Where standard spell stones allow users to learn a single spell, codices can store much more, including skills, multiple spells, skill level boosts and a wide variety of other esoteric information.
The Codex of Ritual Wonder contains the secret knowledge of Grandmaster Syndravion including instructions on the functions and operations of the Occulorum.
Reading the codex can tax lesser minds and possesses hidden safeguards designed to protect the codex from unworthy eyes.
Gryph was careful not to trigger the latch and handed the Codex of Ritual Wonder to Vonn who checked it for traps. The rogue found nothing obvious but warned Gryph that codices were notoriously dangerous. Gryph thanked him and lifted the ovoid device from the chest and triggered his Identify talent a second time.
You have found the Occulorum (Locked)
Item Class: Artifact - Item Category: Active/Passive
The Occulorum is a diagnostic, recording and etching device created by the Grandmaster Ritual Mage Syndravion after he sacrificed his right hand to a dragon for wondrous knowledge. Ritual Magic requires the creation of rune-forms, complex patterns drawn onto surfaces that are then empowered with mana.
Active Power (1):
Analyze Rune-Form: The Occulorum can analyze any existing rune-form to identify the purpose, powers, tier and mana levels of the rune-form.
Active Power (2):
Store Rune-Form: Rune-forms are incredible complex and highly precise symbolic drawings. Any deviation may cause the rune-form to fail or exhibit unwanted and dangerous effects. The Occulorum scans and stores rune-forms for study or later use.
Active Power (3):
Etch Rune-Form: Rune-forms require a high level of artistic skill to draw. After losing his hand, Syndravion could not draw these complex ritual diagrams. He created the Occulorum to get around his handicap. The Occulorum allows the user to etch rune-forms into a wide variety of surfaces as if their Ritual Drawing perk was equal to their Ritual Magic tier.
Active Power (4):
Repair Rune-Form: Damaged rune-forms stop functioning until repaired. Ritual Magic practitioners can “see” the damaged part and instruct the Occulorum to perform repairs.
Passive Power (1): When analyzing, repairing or etching a rune-form, the Occulorum increases the user’s effective tier in Ritual Magic by two tiers. These tiers do not enable a user to purchase perks higher than their actual tier and all other abilities and effects are determined by the user’s true tier and level.
NOTE: The Occulorum is locked. Speak the word of power to unlock the artifact.
Gryph sat down, his back to the chest. Lex eyed it warily, perhaps expecting a hidden mouth to open and devour Gryph. When nothing happened, the tension in the NPC’s shoulders eased and he glared at Vonn.
“I hate you sometimes.”
“Can’t be everything to everyone,” the half-elf said with a shrug.
Gryph motioned to Vonn, and the half-elf handed the heavy book to him. “The warnings on this book are harsh, so I’ll need you guys to keep an eye out for any other beasts we missed. The last thing I need is another tentacle blob beast coming after me when I’m stuck in a spastic trance.” He turned his eyes to the warborn who’d spent much of the last few weeks studying with the healers. “Errat, you’re my medic if I seize or need healing.”
The warborn bowed. “Errat appreciates the honor of friend Gryph’s trusting, and I promise to handle your body as well as I am able while you are incapacitated.”
Lex opened his mouth ready to spout some witty remark, but nothing came. “I got nothing.”
“Our luck is holding then,” Ovrym said, drawing his sword. Lex and Vonn readied their own weapons, and all three stood guard. With a nod to Errat, Gryph opened the clasp of the codex. Nothing happened and Gryph released a breath h
e hadn’t realized he’d held. With one last look at his friends he opened the book.
Words and rune-forms filled the page. As his eyes fell on them they began to move. The words twined across the pages like centipedes made of letters. The rune-forms spun, pulsing outward as the surface of the book became three dimensional.
The largest rune-form snapped up, enveloped Gryph, and then he was somewhere else.
4
Gryph stumbled and nearly fell. Somehow, even though he’d been sitting a moment ago, he now stood on a stone walkway. He wobbled but caught his balance before falling over the edge into a roiling mass of swamp green … something. He couldn't decide if it was a liquid or a solid. It was both and neither.
Déjà vu flickered at the edges of his awareness and he saw parts of both his Soul Reverie and the Perk Point Marketplace in the senses disrupting morass. The Aether, a voice, one of his voices, said.
Gryph tore his gaze from the raw stuff of creation and looked skyward. Thick gray-green clouds flowed overhead in a twinning maelstrom of interconnecting storm cells. Silver-blue lightning flashed among them in vast chains, illuminating one then another of the bulbous pockets of air and moisture.
Each flash revealed a horror of twining tentacles swarming inside the clouds and Gryph flinched as crashes of thunder rumbled over him. The tentacles were like the beast the group had slain back in the tomb, only much larger. And these are flying among the clouds, he told himself. Walk silent, walk quick.
Gryph tore his gaze from the writhing monstrosities and moved up a set of stairs, struggling like a toddler learning to walk. Something about traversing dimensions always quirked up his equilibrium, but he regained his balance with each step and soon reached a circular platform. Five causeways flared out like the spokes of a wheel, each leading up to a smaller dais. At the center of each sat a stone lectern where carbon copies of the Codex of Ritual Wonder bobbed up and down as if floating on the swell of a calm sea.
Gryph’s heart raced at the prospect of gaining five more volumes of Ritual Magic knowledge and he took a cautious step onto the central platform. A flash of silver-gray light exploded under his foot and sped through the intricately carved lines around the entire platform. He recognized the activation of a rune-form and tried to rush back down the stairs, but the energy pulsed around the entire rostrum faster than his eyes could follow and his face smacked into an invisible wall as hard as stone.
The hairs on the back of Gryph’s neck rose, and a voice reached his ears. “Is that you Exuum, you traitorous cockalorum.” By the time Gryph had turned, two of his new throwing knives were at the ready. What he saw stayed his hand.
Standing at the center of the platform was a wizened man, his back crooked and bent. He wore ragged, filthy robes that in a more laundered past may have been luxurious and clutched a twisted wooden staff in his left hand. Unkempt hair exploded about his head and a scruffy beard, so full of detritus that it would have made a passable nest for a bird, tufted from his face. His rheumy eyes closed to slits as he stared at Gryph.
What kind of safeguards are these? Gryph wondered, remembering the warning that had come with the codex’s description.
“You look taller Exuum, and far less ugly.” He pointed at Gryph with the stump of his right arm. “Have you stolen someone’s body again?”
Again, Gryph thought in alarm but regained his composure on seeing the man’s missing hand. “Grandmaster Syndravion?”
“Of course, I am me, Exuum. Who else would I be if I were not me? You’re the one who goes around snatching bodies from people.” The old man’s eyes squinted further and Gryph wondered how the man could see. “Wait, are you sure you’re Exuum, or did you steal the body Exuum stole?”
For a moment Gryph felt like he was talking to a senile Lex. “Nope, I’m Exuum, and sorry about, um, stealing this body. I hope it does not offend?”
“If the previous owner was foolish enough to leave it lying about, then it is no skin off my nose.” As if under the sway of his own subliminal influence Syndravion scratched the side of his nose with his stump. An unpleasant squelching sound crossed the space between them. After several seconds the old man stopped and looked at Gryph. “What were we talking about?”
Gryph saw an opportunity. Grandmaster Syndravion, if this truly was him and not some simulacrum of the man, was clearly a bit addled in the brain. If Gryph could keep him off balance, perhaps he'd gain access to the knowledge of the codex.
“You were about to share with me your greatest discoveries Grandmaster.”
Syndravion cocked his head to the side, like a confused parrot. “Really? That doesn’t sound at all like me. Don’t I always promise to tell you my secrets and then withhold them?”
“Yes, and it is quite amusing too,” Gryph said, forcing a light chuckle into his tone. “But wise Grandmaster, do you not remember the orders you gave me last night?”
“Orders?” The mad mage stared at Gryph, his face drawn into a scowl as he sucked loudly at his teeth. “Of course, I remember. I am surprised you do. In fact, if you truly are Exuum and not some imposter, I cannot let you trick me into revealing my orders. Instead, you will tell me what those orders were.”
Gryph’s brain swam at the deep illogic of the comment and he hoped the man was not manipulating him, playing him for the fool. Is it any safer hoping he’s an unstable lunatic? The phantom voice of the Colonel asked. Gryph wanted to scowl at his dead father’s words, but he kept his face locked into a pleasant smile. Who knew what the mage would do to him if he thought he was lying.
“Of course, Grandmaster,” Gryph said and took a deep bow. “You told me you were retiring and because of my many years of loyal service you had chosen me to continue your legacy.”
“I did? Why would I do that?” He stared at Gryph, suspicion starting to push through the fog of his addled mind. He raised his staff and Gryph knew he had mere moments before the mage unleashed his attack. “That doesn’t sound like me at all. I am far too selfish to hand over my knowledge to the likes of you.”
Gryph’s mind scrambled for an out, his eyes widening as the Grandmaster stood tall and aimed his stump at him. Power howled through the ancient man’s body, wrapping around him in multi-colored whorls of mana. Gryph suspected, despite his age and insanity, the man could lay him low in an instant, especially here, in whatever odd Realm that insanity had built. Gryph’s eyes stared at the stump and a thought triggered by a single line in the Codex of Ritual Wonder’s description came to him.
“The dragon,” Gryph blurted.
“Dragon? What dragon?” Syndravion looked down on his stump and flinched, jumping back as if he’d forgotten all about the amputated limb. “Oh, that dragon,” he said, a childish pout coming to his lips. “I hate that dragon. That is why I killed it.”
“But you didn’t, remember?”
“I didn’t? I thought I did.”
“We all thought you did, but the dragon deceived you by ….”
“Taking over the body of the gardener,” Syndravion said, his eyes wide, his voice the ‘ah ha’ tone of a conspiracy theorist convinced his idiotic theory is true.
Gryph coughed to cover his surprise. “Yes… exactly. And you ordered me to kill him since a dragon in the body of a lowly gardener is …”
“Below me,” the mage said, eyes wide in understanding. “Yes,” He turned a joyous gaze on Gryph. “Yes, yes, I remember now.” He motioned for Gryph to come closer, all threat and suspicion gone. “I will teach you how to use my Occulorum and then you can choose the knowledge from one of my codices. With it you can kill the dragon gardener.” He swept his arm in a wide arc towards the five lecterns, his erratic motion nearly pulling him off balance.
“Would it not be better to teach me all your techniques, so I may have a better chance to fulfill my mission?”
“To kill a gardener?” Syndravion asked with a shriek. “No, the Occulorum and the power in one codex is more than sufficient to accomplish that feat. Besides, you�
��re only level 19 in Ritual Magic, a mere babe in the woods. Talk to me when you have advanced a tier. Perhaps I’ll allow you to learn more, or perhaps I’ll kill you.” Syndravion smiled like a kid learning he’d soon vacation at Disney World, and turned towards the array of codices, motioning Gryph to follow. “Come, come.”
An alarm roared in Gryph’s head. If he knows I’m level 19, what else does he know? Is this some ploy? Knowing he had to play along, Gryph walked up and stood beside the insane Grandmaster.
“First … to use the Occulorum … you … need …” Syndravion said, scowling at the creakiness in his voice before opening and closing his mouth several times to moisten the tacky paste covering his tongue. He failed if his sour expression was any sign and grumbling to himself he released his staff. “Huurrm … guess I’ll have to do it … the easy way. This may ... tickle.”
The staff floated in midair drawing Gryph’s gaze and a second later Syndravion’s hand launched out, his thumb and fingers pincering Gryph’s temples with surprising strength. Gryph yelped in alarm but then went limp as a torrent of information poured into him.
Gryph’s mind swirled and the pain nearly forced him to his knees, but he resisted, understanding that it was no time to show weakness. A moment later the pain in his head and the writhing of his stomach ceased and Gryph knew how to use the Occulorum. He looked up at the wizened old man with newfound respect. The ritual mage had created the Realm’s version of a scanning matrix coupled with a replication unit. The possibilities of such a device overwhelmed Gryph.
Syndravion turned towards the five codices. “Okey Dokey, which one do you want?”
Gryph twitched for several seconds as he tried to regain his composure.
“Snap, snap Exuum, don’t make me ask again or I’ll flay you alive.”