Loremaster of the Amaranthine lands

An unassuming wooden bookshelf hid itself behind his ego-scraping statue with three age-old scrolls waiting on the middle of the five shelves. He unfurled the first parchment, finding a strange drawing on it. By all means, it looked like a slightly better-made stick figure with the lines connected through large dots. There was no description on the scroll beside the weird sketch, so he put it back and grabbed the second one. It also showed a humanoid figure, but while the first one just stood there with its arms slightly opened; this one was in a different pose.

The second figure had its knees slightly bent with its arms raised at an altered angle, making the stick man remind him of someone who was sneaking around. With no description on this one either, he unfolded the third one. Not surprisingly, he found a third figure on it with its hands raised upwards in a ‘Praise the sun’ position.

“Okay,” Regis put back the scroll with a frown. “I’ve had enough of this weird shit for now. I’ll ask the old man if he knows anything about it.”

The young elf unceremoniously slumped down onto the stone floor and began to meditate. After a few moments, he felt the strange place shake as he fell through the darkness once more. When he opened his eyes again; he was sitting beside the stairs opposite to a makeshift camp with a quietly crackling fire. Bray stood not far away; bleeding out an upside-down hanging giant rat carcass.

“I see you’ve found breakfast while I was out.” He joked as he stood up to stretch his limbs.

“It will be lunch, lad. It’s almost midday now.”

“Oh, did I…”

“It’s alright,” the grey-haired man waved with one hand without even turning around. “The first time always takes the longest. Hopefully, your soul-space has synchronized with the outer world by now.”

“Synchronized? That’s a fancy word for a homeless old man.” Regis noted as he checked his belongings to see if any of his meagre possessions had gone missing.

“Traveling with fancy folk tends to rub some culture and wisdom on people.”

“Sure,” the young man rolled his eyes. “Anyway; I have a question for you.”

“Is it about the bookshelf with the scroll?”

“How the f…”

“It’s a thing said to be unique to shardwakers, so I’ve figured you’re not familiar with it. That bookshelf is where the Constellation Charts you memorize are kept.” the old man cut into his words. “As the name suggests, they are a means for you to fill the dark sky of your soul-space with some light. Every shardwaker has at least one ancestral chart on that shelf to begin with. Of course, there’s more to them than just being pretty to look at. Each of them is made up of nodes that increase your power in some form. Fill them with Amaranth and in return, they will strengthen certain attributes. Any other questions while you’re at it?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Regis scratched his head while deep in thought.

“In that case, I’ll ask. Did you find out what race you belong to?” The old man finally turned around.

“I seem to be a mixed breed of dark elf, human and sun elf “

“Tough luck, lad. That’s like being a mix of fire and water. Those two kinds of elves always hated each other, not to mention that most folks distrust dark elves.”

“So I should expect dagger-sharp stares from the people and knives in the back if I’m not careful enough.”

“That’s true for all of us nowadays,” Bray sighed as he pushed the pot with the rat blood aside. “There’s a reason I came down here.”

“Well, you sure made yourself home while I was meditating. I don’t remember seeing any of these besides that old crate at the side.” He smirked as he took a better look at the small camp not far from the stairs.

A nearby small grate let in the sunlight through the ceiling while another one let the smoke of the campfire out. The familiar tarp-covered crate was now accompanied by a simple bedroll and a makeshift table.

“Do you mind if I stay in your hideout for a little while longer, just to gather my thoughts?”

“Have a seat,” Bray pointed at a cloth sack on the stone floor in the darkest part of the camp. “I know it’s not much, but it’s still better than sitting on the naked floor. If you want to leave, push the red stone on the wall at the stairs for the door to open. Once outside, you can begin your daily struggles like the rest of the folks upstairs.”

“What do you mean?” Regis couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“As you can imagine, the city’s resources are stretched thin. With desperate folks on the inside and monsters on the outside, every day is a struggle to get food, water and a chance to get out of here. Of course, you can volunteer for corpse duty during the day or something, if you have the stomach for it. They always need help getting rid of the dead that’s amassed by the soldiers protecting the walls. For now, just sit down and do your thing.”

“Thanks, Bray,” the young man nodded as he turned towards the makeshift camp. “I’ll try not to be too much of a bother.”

Regis understood from what the old man said that the surface won’t be a pretty sight. Prague was a troublesome place to live too, but Hunor sounded like a whole other thing. With the city besieged by monsters and desperate people, it was going to be an uphill battle to get proper equipment, money and supplies. He needed strength. Magic was a good source of it and the common folk were always wary of the unknown, which could give him another layer of protection. Or it would paint another target on his back. Either way, he had no combat magic of his own yet, but he did have the book of a dead mage. Regis sat beside the fireplace and pulled out the leather journal from his knapsack to read, occasionally casting lesser healing on the stubs of his missing fingers.

According to the first few lines of the journal, it belonged to a man named Taveran. The wannabe spell caster chose to record his adventures that began by coming across a half-destroyed tome that described the basics of meditation and crystal magic. Taveran also scribbled down the spell of ‘charlatan’s wisdom’ on a whole page, along with some of the things he learned along his journey. There were also a couple of pages regarding what he managed to scrounge together about magic weapons. According to him, wizards created their soulbound equipment that mostly included a staff and a tome. Taveran planned to create his magic staff as well, but he lacked a focus crystal, though he described the strange ritual of creating a soulbound staff and other such items. The scribblings also explained how to make the items grow stronger through enchanting. After skimming through the soul-binding ritual, the first thing to note was the familiar short description of meditation and its use to replenish one’s arcana faster. It was the first necessary skill for anyone dealing in magic, but since he already knew about it, he turned the pages back towards the description of the charlatan’s wisdom spell.

A whole page was filled with the roundabout explanation of how the spell tapped into one’s erudition and mind attribute to identify ordinary and magical items. A footnote also mentioned that this spell required the caster to have a decent level in the lore skill if they wanted to increase their spell mastery further. Regis followed the instructions as he placed his hand on his gambeson first. As he silently chanted the obscured words, he felt a strange warmth course through veins toward his eyes, an itchy sensation spreading across his irises. When he looked back at the gambeson, white letters formed in front of him in the air.

{Simple leather gambeson (Worn)}

{Item rarity: common}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Durability: 43/100}

{Armor type: medium}

{Armor Value: 5/12)}

Surprised by the video game like armour description, his concentration faltered. His spell faded along with the glowing words. After he gathered his thoughts, he decided to try to identify his forearm guards and his bracelet as well.

{Simple leather armguard (Worn)}

{Item rarity: common}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Durability: 41/100}

{Armor type: medium}

{Armor Value: 4/10}

{Chipped Quartz Catalyst}

{Item rarity: ???}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{This rune-carved crystal serves as a medium for Crystalmancy skill-line’s spells.}

{Base catalyst damage: ???}

“Looks like this identifying spell has its limits as well, but it will come in handy.” Regis admitted as he noticed the elderly man’s gaze.

“I guess you do have a talent for the path of magic, so you might as well try your luck with it. Although people fear spell casters because of the terror they’ve caused in the battles of Ecragurne, we need them nonetheless. Mages can be powerful allies and even a neophyte could take down a couple of undead. Still; it will be hard for you to find useful spells in this place. Try to read through that book of yours. Maybe it can teach you a thing or two about your future path. As for me; I’ll get some of this meat cooked while the day is still calm.” The elderly man said as he began to cut a larger chunk of rat meat into smaller pieces.

The young elf nodded as he turned the pages of the leather journal towards the part that depicted the making of soulbound items, including the magic staff. He already skimmed it over before, but now he read it through in detail. It was a simple ritual. All he needed was a staff with branches or roots still on its end, plus a stone of power. The journal mentioned several stones of which he only had an inkling of knowledge, but the part about the glowing milky yellow stone fit well with his findings. It made the strange pose of the corpse reaching for the glowing crystal much more understandable. He pulled out the largest crystal from his bag while he also grabbed the staff, identifying them both.

{Oak staff (scratched)}

{Item rarity: common}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Durability: 83/100}

{Damage: 8/10}

{Sunstone}

{Item rarity: ???}

{Item quality: chipped}

The last spell left him dizzy, earning him another meditation session. After a few minutes, his arcana reserves were likely full once more. ‘Okay,’ he thought. ‘I guess now’s the time to draw the runes with my blood.’ He shuddered for a moment as he took out his iron dagger and pricked his right index finger with its tip. Following the sketches in the journal, seven small symbols appeared on both the stone and the staff. Once done, he held the glowing crystal to the end of the staff, touching it to the base where the roots spread out. The moment the yellow stone touched the wood, his knees buckled. The small roots at the end of the staff came to life as they circled the crystal, firmly binding the two together as a strange connection formed between Regis and the staff.

The bloody symbols glowed up before his new weapon absorbed them without a trace. He looked at the renewed staff and couldn’t help, but whistle. As the world began to spin far too fast for his liking, he lay down on the ground with his eyes closed. Minutes slipped by with measured breathing before he regained his arcana and strength. After sitting back up, he cast charlatan’s wisdom on the staff, finding that identification showed a slightly different description now.

{Soulbound sunstone staff (scratched)}

{Item rarity: ???}

{Item quality: ordinary}

{Greater enchantments: 0}

{Lesser enchantments: 0}

{Durability: 85/100}

{Damage: ???)}

It was his first magic item he created, but hopefully not the last. As he gazed at the staff, a new set of descriptions changed places with the original.

{Soulbound}

{This weapon destroys itself upon the dispersion of its creator’s soul.}

{This magic weapon repairs itself over time by absorbing ambient arcana. If durability is below 80%, it needs to absorb other resources for self-repair.}

“Oh,” Bray turned towards the flash of light as he put the meat chunks on a small skewer. “That was quite fast. I thought magic staves would take a lot more effort to craft. So, what can yours do?”

“I don’t know,” Regis admitted. “It says that it’s soulbound and can repair itself, but that’s about it.”

“That isn’t much,” the old man shook his head. “I’ve heard that magic staves and sceptres can do wonders. Being able to repair itself could lower the cost of keeping your kit in shape, but that’s hardly what I’ve imagined such a staff could do.”

“It says that there are no enchantments on it yet. I’ll check Taveran’s journal. I should be able to do more with it then.”

Thus Regis returned to the terribly written scribbles and managed to find out a few important things. As it turned out; the journal’s former owner described what little he found out about enchantments as well. He spent the next quarter of an hour sifting through the fancy words and simplified the lengthy description.