Beyond the city of Rharne lies the Stormlands, which is home to a number of farms, forests, fields, Lake Lovalus, and the River Zynyx. This subforum also includes the Stormwastes to the south.
It truly was a terrible thing, seeing a book in such condition. Straight edges of parchment warped and charred, precious knowledge eaten away and wiped out forever. Cover twisted and frozen forever in a weird, bubbled sort of texture, where the woven material had melted in the heat. Trials after the event and it was cold, but still... he could feel some aura of memory around the tome. Something that went with the burned, crispy smell that would never quite go away. He'd treated it so gently at first, callused killing hands turning each page with exaggerated, exquisite care. After a while, the pages remembered some of their old pliability; regained some measure of bounce and flexibility.
Won't be the same, though. Won't be like it was.
Kasoria sighed and gave a mental shrug. What was, after all? Mountains tumbled, if you waited long enough. His body was a thing lithe and unstoppable, mere arcs ago, a blink of an eye in the span of history. Now things creaked and groaned within him every time he stood up too quickly. But something worn and battered was not without worth. Again, he was the proof in the statement. So when he'd seen the book, piled along hundreds of others from the Keep's library, he'd known it was not just... trash. Fuel that hadn't quite been used up by the flames. He'd read the words on the cover, still just visible beyond the damage done, and remembered Llyr speaking of it. This strange ability, a new form of magic that allowed a mage to craft things from... other things.
Very fucking poetic.
Yes, well, that's why you have the book.
In his sparse lodgings, the mage-mercenary stroked the cover... and he chuckled at the growl he felt from within himself. His Spark was not pleased. Did not want to share the energy, the essence, the very space that it currently was sole master of. Without being told or even having the language to express the feeling, it knew its host was considering other disciplines. Like a jealous lover it bristled within him. Made its displeasure known through odd, intangible, unknowable ripples through his muscles. He had to give a quiet, firm mental order to still the thing.
Not replace. Not diminish. Make stronger.
Already strong, he could almost hear it snarl.
"Y'can always be stronger," he whispered, opening the book and starting to read by what few candles he could scrounge together. He'd need them all, to squint properly at this blackened, brittle parchment. "Trans...mutation. The Magic a' Mastery, the Dis... fuckin' messy-" he flicked a few embers of ash away from the page "-Discipline of... Transformation." Kasoria licked his thumb and turned the page. "Intru'duk'shun..."
word count: 478
Common Speech | Thoughts | Ith'ession Speech | Speech of Others
He'd never been much for book learning, back when his mind was young and supple enough for it to really matter. Back when he'd been at that formative part of his life. So many skills and professions he could have learned, but what had he bent his efforts towards? Brawling, scrapping, cadging, hobbyist thievery and amateur thuggery. Fates, if it hadn't been for Tantos...
But that was the past. Now he was a man who knew the value of words. They held power, much as coin and steel and magic did. The Mistress of Machinations had taught him that very painful lesson, as the last arc died in cold and blood. She had educated him on the power of words, of speeches, conviction and persuasion and conversion. Kasoria had always known words were fascinating and complicated things; wondrous in their ways of conjuring, stories and legends and tales and-
No. Not just flights of fancy. A real education. Not just who and what and where.
How. Most vital of all.
He turned another page and he could feel the frailness still imbued within it. The heat and flames had scorched all moisture from the pages. The book seemed old and worn, even before it was embroiled in that inferno
The principles of Transmutation are the Transformation of Substances. Transformation through Und
Ether is Conjured by the Practitioner, and Harnessed to Alter the Nature of the Substance it Envelops.
Understand, Dear Reader! This Discipline, this Magic, Does Not Change the Substance. Not in the
But the Nature of Lead is Shifted. Altered. Transformed. Adapted. Whichever Word one
But the Three Key Steps of Tansmutation are Not Some Trick to Great Wealth. Attempting to
Why write like that? Just bloody confusing.
Kasoria sighed ad frowned but it was not the charred page edges that needled him. That was the cost of reading from a tome that had been only-just-saved from an inferno. The ends of sentences and paragraphs had been snipped away, burned to ash, and the knowledge was left unfinished. The mage's brow was knotted in the candlelight as he bent over the book. Trying to piece together what was missing based on what was still there... and yet, it as the syntax that annoyed him.
Capital letters bloody everywhere. Looks pompous.
That didn't last long. His fingertip traced over the last sentence one more time. Three... Key... Steps. That seemed important. Reading as a means of learning, without a mentor o instructor to guide your mind, was always challenging. So many tens of thousands of words, and how many of them were really important? All of them, the learn'd would say, but Kasoria suspected differently. He wanted the very meat and blood of his magic, not the fat and gristle. Flowery prose was no good to him; lessons and facts were.
He turned another page, and blew some dust away. Beyond the barred window and iron-ribbed door, Storm's Edge continued to slave against the threat of the night. Mayhap the Fireborn would come again, or leave them trembling with anticipation all night, to no end. Kasoria did not know, nor care for the moment. He cared only to turn another page, devour another smoky parcel of information. Now it was starting to get... applicable.
word count: 554
Common Speech | Thoughts | Ith'ession Speech | Speech of Others
It was nice to know he had the little wankers trained well enough that further elaboration wasn't necessary. Kasoria stared at the door as if it were the face that querying voice belonged to. He stared as the footsteps behind it receded, going from skittish and quick to slower and maybe a little out of breath... before vanishing completely. He harrumphed and fucking Fates did he sound like his father when he did that. He shook his head at the thought and turned another page.
Here we go...
Transmutation is Varied Beyond Words. It Deals with the Manipulation of Matter through Ether, and Thus it can b
However, in any Spell Tiny as a Sand Grain or Vast as a Castle and Beyond, the Discipline is Always Conducted th
"Shite..."
He really was starting to get annoyed with this. Every sentence, every page seemed to be a fresh puzzle now, and as the sun started to set and weariness crept into him, so did irritation. But he didn't toss the book aside or grouse any further. Parts were missing, true, but the more he read, the bigger the picture got, the less important the small pieces were. Information could be found in more than one place, especially in a tome like this, designed to educate. He'd missed parts, but he could find them again. He licked his thumb and turned a page.
First before All, is the Process of Deconstruction. At this Stage, Ether is Conjured around an Object and Used to Break it d
This Immersion in Ether Reduces the very basic Nature of the Object into the Simplest Matter. How long this takes, Depen
Take Heed and Understand, Deconstruction Requires Total Concentration! To Stymie the flow of Ether even for a few trills
Kasoria mouthed the word to himself. Deconstruction. Then whispered it. Deconstruction. Not quite as violent and sudden as destruction. More... managed. Methodical. Like a smithy smelting down a hunk of iron so it could be forged into something anew. The Raggedy Man quirked his lips at the analogy. It seemed fitting.
After Deconstruction, Comes Alteration. This is where the True Magic of Transmutation Occurs. The Mage Pours his Ether
The Nature of these Changes depends wholly on the Instructions. Whatever the Mage Imbues his Ether with, the Deconstr
As with more Corporeal Disciplines, how Long this Stages takes Depends on the Complexity of the Instructions, with som
First you melt it down. Then you fashion it. Aye. Just like a smithy.
Kasoria kept reading. Eyes hungry now, knowing he was closer to the last stage. He suspected what it already was, but had no notion of the name nor wording. To break matter down, yes. To sculpt it as you wished, yes. But the third stage, to make it real and permanent, that was the real trick. Everything before it mattered, of course... but latecomer to magic though he was, Kasoria knew any use of ether was only as good as your control over it.
Finally Comes Restoration. This is the Process of Returning the Object into its Original Form, with its Etheric Changes, and
As one would Expect, this Process takes Time, and Focus. The Transmuted Object must be "Dried" for Sufficient time For i
Recall at the Beginning of this Tome, I said that Transmuted Objects do not truly Change? This is Evidenced in Restoration
"Um... s-sir-"
"I fuckin' well told you-"
"S-S-Ser Gerald is-is-is asking f-f-for you!"
Kasoria rolled his eyes, closed the book with an angry SLAP of dry pages and shoved it under his mattress. Of course, it would be that shiny cunt, wouldn't it? Probably needing another latrine dug or rubble hauled or clutch of gormless sods knocked into shape before they lost the light entirely. But the time was not entirely wasted; the Raggedy Man had the base of what he needed.
Deconstruction. Smelting it down. Alteration. Forging it. Restoration. Getting it solid again.
He nodded to himself and there he opened wide the door. No raven stood there; just a gangly squire in mismatched armor, eyes like a pigeon's. Wet and unsure. The younger man swallowed as he watched the strange, dangerous man from Etzos they whispered about. Strapping an ax to his back and snatching up a bow and quiver. His gladius never left his hip; some said he slept with it on. The squire didn't ask and never got the chance.
"C'mon, den. Lead fuckin' on."
The squire did just that, and Kasoria fell in behind him. Silently mouthing new words lodged in his brain. Fresh seeds that just needed watering.[size]
word count: 791
Common Speech | Thoughts | Ith'ession Speech | Speech of Others
Knowledge:
Research x4
Transmutation: Transformation of Substances through Etheric Manipulation
Transmutation: The Three Steps - Deconstruction, Alteration, Restoration
Comments: I enjoyed the description of the book and the statement that something worn and battered was not without worth which didn’t only seem to refer to Kasoria, but also to the book. I also find it interesting that Kasoria’s spark doesn’t want to share. I wonder if he’ll eventually get initiated into a second magic, nevertheless. All in all, this was quite an interesting solo – because you included so many of Kasoria’s personal thoughts and views.
