Shackled, p.8
Shackled, page 8
He looked at the bird, which had landed on the desk, watching him write with its head cocked to one side, its deep, green eyes glittering in the candlelight.
He rolled the tiny letter up and tied it closed. “Take this letter to Sarah Magewright in Sunblade, if you would. Attempt delivery at the Pillowed Anvil Inn.”
The bird peered unblinkingly at him for a moment. He reached for the clasp around the bird’s leg, but it hopped back and pecked at the slip of parchment.
“Rach?” it squawked. Korrash squinted at it; this was odd behavior for the well-trained bird.
When his second attempt to attach the letter failed, he held it out in an open palm. Maybe the bird smelled the scent of the depths on him.
It hopped closer, pecking once more at the letter.
“Rach?”
“Sarah. Magewright. Sunblade. Pillowed Anvil.” He was maybe a little louder than he needed to be.
The bird shook its head.
“Rach,” it croaked once more. Then it bobbed up and down.
“Sun,” it managed. It held out a leg, and Korrash at last got his letter in the mail. With a roaring of wings, a flash of silver, and a swirl of down, the bird was gone, flying toward the human city.
He turned and left the rookery, wondering what it was that had confused the bird. On his way to the tower, he skipped merrily for a few moments as he looked at the ruined flesh of his hand. He could make money again!
Chapter Nineteen
The Empress’s Spire (ground floor), Caer Realta, the Reborn Empire of Fé Rìach
Amnach regarded him with a surprising warmth. Was that concern on her face? He noticed the rings missing from her hands, and wondered at the strength of magic it must have taken to burn out gems the way she had.
“You have returned to us, my Knight,” she said, her voice full of regal impassivity (Insight 2 failure). “I see you still carry the wound you suffered during my enchantment; you should see the healer before you leave us, lest the damage become permanent.”
This newer, softer side of the Ancient Fae demigod was actually quite nice.
“It will be as you say, my Empress,” he said. “But pray, tell me: what magic was it that caused such a powerful effect? Surely there would have been a better time to free me from my curse?”
“Ah, child,” she said with a smile. “That was only a small, unintended effect of the spell. Had I done nothing, She would have swallowed you up where you stood, and half my tower with you. I had to bend your very destiny to delay her, and the simple magics of the ring you wore could not adapt.”
He kept his eyes from growing wide. High Magic had power over destiny? He needed to learn more about how that worked. Learning the skill had only imparted superior knowledge of lesser magics to him; he still had not cast even a single spell using High Magic Theory.
“Your journey has done you good, my Knight. Now I shall give you your promised reward, though we should retreat to the drawing room first.” She turned and began to walk, and he fell into step about a meter behind her, as was proper.
Once they had taken their place in the warded room and she had placed the silver cord to activate the mandala, she continued.
“I never imagined that you would be given the option to free one of the Mothers so soon, or I would surely have warned you,” she said. “Now that She is freed from the Fae Realm, our plans must change. No longer is it safe to call upon Morrigan to aid us. In fact, I fear the entire coup may be pointless.”
“Why is that, my Empress?”
“Titan was able, long ago, to defeat Bal’org and force the Unseelie out of the light and into hiding. It was this victory that saw him crowned King of our kind, and though he has become insufferable in his rule, it is still far better than life would be under Bal’org’s twisted thumb.”
Korrash considered this. The Unseelie, he knew, were one of two “courts” of the Fae, dedicated to the more evil side of folklore. Abductors, torturers, and worse, they were the kind of Fae who would seize travelers and have their way with them. The lucky ones were eaten early. He thought of the Grimmlings, and shuddered.
It seemed that Amnach was working with another Fae, likely Morrigan, to steal the throne from Titan (Talent 14 critically succeeded, but became a regular success due to Tier Differences and other factors). But who would replace him? Given Amnach’s love for expansionism, it seemed like she might be an obvious candidate, though her focus on the Reborn Empire might make a second throne less appealing to her. If the focus was on Morrigan, then perhaps she was a candidate? She was Unseelie, and the long-standing rivalry between the two courts made that less likely (Fae Arcana 2 success).
“Should Titan be released now, then?” he asked hesitantly.
“Our King is likely quite wroth at present,” Amnach responded. “If the option to free one of us were extended to you at this moment, he would likely snuff out your existence rather than give you the chance to choose another. It is possible that She might even be able to influence the choice itself, removing Titan as an option and replacing him with Bal’org.
“No, we cannot risk the release of another Unseelie sympathizer, given this change. The original intent was to strike equilibrium between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, but She shifts the balance too far.
“I must be duplicitous once more, working against my King and changing the plan. I shall provide you with your due Arcana, though I will delay the associated release of one of us from Arcadia. Even in his anger, Titan knows that She is to be feared. He will understand my caution.
“Once I have seen to your rewards, I will set you upon a quest. It would please me for you to complete it with all haste, as its successful completion is vital both to my cause and the well-being of those delicious fruits.” He could not stop the incredulous look that appeared on his face at her words, and she continued after a moment’s silence. “And those humans you still care so much about, of course.”
Before he could respond, she reached out and brushed his forehead with the back of her hand, and he felt the mighty presence of her being press against his very soul. For a moment, the world was music, and then the notifications slipped into his mind, demanding attention.
Your understanding of High Magic Theory has increased. Once in a safe place, review what you have learned to discover how this knowledge will serve you on your adventures.
Congratulations! Fae Arcana has increased. You may now set new parameters for your Growth. Caution: identical selections may stack, but may behave unpredictably.
Elven Paragon Inheritance (Race Change, High Magic)
Choose.
Choose.
It seemed he had gained two new ranks of the skill. The first increase had been from his release of Magna Mater, just as his initial rank had been given to him when he had freed Amnach. The second was the reward Amnach had promised him for delaying Titan’s release.
Much as it had when he’d gained his first Perk, knowledge of all the different Growth options scrolled through his mind. As he considered the options, he thought about his conversation with the Grandmother of the Fae. He wanted to grow and become stronger, but until now, he had been blind about how that actually worked. Like all beings upon Nightfall, he gained Experience. This option increased every aspect of Korrash, like blowing air into a balloon. It was predictable and balanced.
But there were additional aspects to the Skill, and each one interacted with the universal Experience system in its own unique ways. Each option had its own benefits and drawbacks, and the farther they progressed from basic Experience, the greater the drawbacks became.
The first option he became aware of was Experience Magnification. It changed the invisible formula that awarded him experience from quest rewards and monsters, ensuring that he would level faster. The actual numbers involved, if there even were any, were hidden from him. This choice was simple and direct, and had no discernable drawbacks.
Then there was Devourer. If he chose Devourer (Flesh), he would benefit from eating what he killed, at least if it was made of meat. This option came with downsides in the form of “minor physical and moderate mental shifts” if he chose to gain only Experience. By contrast, the more direct option would bring “moderate” changes in both categories. The whole ability had a very wendigo-esque feeling to it.
All in all, this system was delightful. He saw how giving thousands of people access to this would quickly get out of hand.
Not all of the options were available. They just gave him feelings of confusion when he contemplated them. Some choices, he could tell, required previous choices to be made: a progression tree, of sorts. Others necessitated a higher Tier than he currently was. Lava Wader required both Mythic Tier and that he had previously selected Pyrophile, which would make him stronger the more fire damage he took.
Of the options that made him stronger by eating things, two stood out as excellent options: Devourer (Mind) and Devourer (Magic) both promised to increase his Talent at the expense of… well, it was all right there in the name, really. He wasn’t completely sure of the details, but both were likely to be too gruesome for his taste, regardless. He’d do anything for power, but he wouldn’t do that.
Thaumatosynthesis facilitated the absorption of ambient mana (or aether), turning it into Experience, sustenance, or any number of effects, though he could feel that the function would cripple his ability to absorb that energy for regenerative purposes.
Geophagy would let him gain strength from eating soil, like a Furrow Pig. He was fairly certain that focusing in that direction would transform him into a Furrow Pig, or some sort of lycanthropic version of one. Gross. Maybe that was why it wasn’t just another subset of Devourer?
This was by far the hardest choice he’d had to make in his Adventuring career!
Options like Respiratory Athanor let him gain power simply from breathing, but the gain was so slow as to be pointless, unless he wanted to wait years for meaningful advancement. Other options would severely limit him in other ways while providing exponential growth, like Adoratum Dei, which would increase his growth in proportion to how many beings worshipped him or swore fealty to him. It also made him dependent on physical proximity to those generating that energy. He’d be bound to his seat of power.
Noctophile made him stronger at night but weaker in the sun, which was right out for a lot of reasons. On the other hand, it synergized nicely with several of his Fortunes, which meant that most of the disadvantages were negated. It was an attractive choice, though it felt like over-specializing, and not in a good way.
His face tickled, and he realized that Amnach had slapped him. He was missing a statistically-significant number of HP. He focused on her through the flood of information in his mind.
“You are running out of time,” she said. “Let your heart decide. Choose and thrive.” Her voice echoed in the small room, and dust rained from the ceiling.
He froze, and then it happened.
“The choice is made,” Amnach intoned.
“No,” he cried. “I didn’t choose anything!”
“Didn’t you?” She smirked at him.
“It… it just popped in there. The one thing… the most harmless thing… something I’ve loved since my childhood.”
“It is a worthy choice.” The stately Elven Empress smiled as she spoke.
He felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to blame Amnach for forcing him to choose, though he knew in his heart that he had no one to blame but himself. He closed his eyes and envisioned his Fae Arcana.
Hoarding Instinct: Gain increased magical and physical strength based on the total value (in gold) of all your unused possessions. Does not count real estate, equipped items, or items you have borrowed from another (Nest Egg). Mental Change: You suffer massive penalties to Conviction rolls when attempting to spend money. Conviction rolls must rate success or higher in order to make purchases greater than five percent of your total wealth or to use purchased consumables. Metaphysical Change: Borrowed items and gifted consumables are reduced in effectiveness by fifty percent. Purchased consumables are increased in effectiveness by one hundred percent (Skinflint).
He wanted to cry. He had just gained the ability to make money again, and now he couldn’t spend any of it! If only the bad news had ended there.
Wyrmling’s Grasp: Gain bonus ranks to certain skills proportionate to the total monetary value of all your unused possessions. These ranks only apply to attempts to increase your personal wealth. Double the perceived value of any item if it was taken by force from its rightful owner. Halve the value of any possession earned through legitimate trade, barter, or legal financial venture, but not purchases from merchants using official currency (Rapacity). Mental Change: You must now make a Conviction roll to resist attempting to acquire any item that you feel is an upgrade to one you currently own or to any object with a perceived value greater than the value of your current hoard. Penalties to Conviction rolls from Hoarding Instinct are reduced in the former case. You may no longer give your possessions to others, nor may you forgive debts (Covetous Heart). Metaphysical Change: Using borrowed items causes penalties to all rolls made to use that item. Gifted consumables have no effect. Increase the effectiveness of purchased consumables by an additional one hundred percent. Physical Change: Your eyes change color based on the value of your hoard. Upon seeing an item that triggers Covetous Heart, your eyes glow bright green (Long-brooding Gaze). You can now smell nearby sources of unsecured wealth, gaining a bonus based on the value. You may also concentrate and attempt to use this sense to find the best deal in a marketplace (Sweet Cent). You now feel physical hunger based on the length of time since you last increased the size of your hoard. This hunger cannot kill you but increases penalties to all Conviction rolls based on its severity (Hungry for More).
Korrash fell to his knees as a fire kindled in his chest. Dragons. He’d always loved dragons. The wings, the scales, the fire… all of it. If he’d had a choice of any draconic trait, it… wouldn’t have been this. Not even close.
He felt a cool hand on his brow, and heard Amnach’s silvery laughter. Knowledge slid into his mind, and hunger roared to life within him.
“Ah, Korrash,” she said. “You are truly a joy to watch. I have seen thousands of mortals reach for our power, but none have grasped so quickly the true potential, nor so firmly embraced hubris.”
He tried to respond, his mouth full of saliva.
“Hungry,” he managed, and the word came out as a growl.
“I know, my Knight. Come,” she gestured as she removed the cord and walked gracefully through the maze laid into the floor. Korrash could only stumble along behind.
“To use High Magic, you must find your Lever. I was going to make a gift of one to you, but that won’t do now, will it?” She spoke as they walked toward the entrance to the tower, then stopped in front of a closed door made of thick oak; it was the only such door he had ever seen in the elven city.
“Go and see to your hand. I shall await you outside.”
Korrash went, though his mind quickly panicked as he walked into an alchemy lab.
“No, it’s too soon!” he cried, and turned to escape. The heavy door was already closed and would not open, no matter how he pulled on the simple knob.
“Nonsense,” said the beautiful elven woman he was trapped in the room with. “I’m sure I have just the potion for whatever ails you, my lord.”
“The only potion I want is an Elixir of Let Me Out Of Here!” He was so scared that he wasn’t even talking straight. All his mind’s eye could see was the look in those chickens’ eyes as they… as they… no, it was too horrible!
She held up his hand for inspection. “Oh, dear, this is bad,” she said. He smelled honeysuckle and cedar, and the light from the alembics made her hair sparkle. “This Lesser Regeneration Potion could never begin to heal the wound…”
She was mumbling to herself about ingredients she would need to collect when the room went out of focus. He saw her as though for the first time, standing there with his hand in hers, her large, violet eyes betraying her concern. She was truly beautiful (Conviction 2 succeeded, but failed due to penalties).
He pushed her down, his body flaring with strength he should not have possessed (Prowess 7 critically failed due to Tier differences, but became a success due to other factors). He crushed his knee into her stomach as he loomed over her, his face twisted into a snarl and his eyes casting a sickly green light over her pale skin.
She looked up at him, her face flushed from shock.
“My lord, I…”
“Silence,” he snapped, and he reached toward her with a trembling hand.
He snatched the potion vial from her grip and held it up to the light. The orange-tinted liquid sparkled like the flame at the heart of a volcano. It was entrancing. He felt something move beneath him, but he had no attention to spare. In that moment, there was only that intoxicating liquid light.
He pulled the stopper from the bottle and inhaled the scent of the serum within. It smelled of salamander slime and troll sweat (Barter 0{+5} success). He could just stay here forever, admiring it, but he had work to do elsewhere. He forced himself to silence the whispers demanding he place it somewhere safe where none could steal it from him (Conviction 2 success).
He drank the potion in one large gulp. It tasted like earthworms and menthol.
“My lord, that potion lacks the strength to heal a wound such as yours,” said a breathless voice beneath him. He looked down to see the elven woman staring up at him, his hand on her shoulder and his knee holding her down.
He leaped up with a gasp, then bowed at the waist, hands clasped in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I don’t… I didn’t… I’m sorry!”
He waited for her to smack his head.
