Bibliomancer
Page 29
Effects: Slows movement rate by 12+(n/2)% for 15 seconds; also deals 1n points of weak acid damage for the duration of the spell. Production Cost: 5 Mana per second until the spell script is completed or attempt is failed. Casting Cost: 1 sheet of ink-soaked paper per spell cast. As only the ink is used when this spell is cast, the paper can be re-inked at a later time!
Skill gained: Book Maker’s Book Bomb (Novice VII). There is always an exception that proves the rule. This exception goes by the name of Book Maker’s Book Bomb! As a Bibliomancer, most of your spells are delivered using the Orbital Tome Casting mechanic, but that won’t stop you from weaponizing any book you can get your grubby, ink-stained fingers on! By inscribing a simple rune in the back of any book—mundane or magical—you can turn it into a deadly bomb!
There are three trigger rune variations; these trigger variations allow you to activate Book Bombs in three different ways: through voice command, pressure, or upon impact. Warning! Using Book Maker’s Book Bomb permanently destroys the book in question! Production Cost: 1 book containing a minimum of 100 pages, 250 Mana. Casting Cost: None. 10n damage + damage equal to the prepared spell, where n = skill level.
Skill gained: Rorschach Test (Novice II). A giant scroll unfurls in the air 10 feet above the field of battle, showing a random inkblot. Any enemy in viewing distance of the inkblot (30 feet in a cone emanating from the summoned scroll) must make a saving throw against Intelligence, or the Rorschach will reveal their greatest fear, causing them to flee from battle for up to one minute.
Anyone failing a Constitution check will additionally suffer 1n psionic damage, where ‘n’ is equal to the skill level. Production Cost: 30 Mana per second until spell script is completed or the attempt has failed. Casting Cost: 150 sheets of paper per cast.
That last one was a potentially powerful area of effect—AoE—spell, though the Mana cost to create it was high, and the casting cost was equally formidable. At one hundred and fifty sheets of paper per cast, Sam would likely be able to cast the spell twice at most during any given battle. It would also cost him something like thirty real-world dollars per cast. That made him gag a little. So, there was no way it would be a go-to spell like Ink Lance or Paper Shuriken, but… as a backup spell to use in case things got really rough? Yeah, it was perfect for that.
The next three days passed in a sleepless blur, just rapid-fire reading of books and studying arcane points of law. All of this was offset by crafting item after item—infusing ink, preparing and inking scads of paper, binding book spines, and creating scrolls of power. Writing out spells took up the bulk of his time, and though the process was not precisely complicated… it did take an ungodly amount of time. Even a momentary lapse in concentration or judgment had devastating consequences. Each day, there was a little gray on his health bar that showed health that wouldn't naturally return until he was properly and magically healed.
Truthfully, it was a grind in the truest sense of the word. Sam only left his room for brief meals of cold porridge or day-old soup, but the results were worth the effort and then some. He learned more and leveled skills faster than he had during his entire stay at the College.
After they’d finished combining skills and what felt like endless iterations of Magical Materials Creation, Bill had Sam work through all the various spell books he’d snatched from the library. Those nearly priceless tomes contained magical ink on magical paper, which meant they were chock full of potential ammo. The downside was that once Sam used the original pages as cannon fodder, the knowledge and spells those books contained would be lost. Gone as irrevocably as his Instinctual Casting now was. That was a terrible waste.
So, Sam studied slavishly for most of each day when he wasn't working. The Fundamentals of Core Cultivation was a straightforward text that covered ground he’d already tread with Mage Akora, his former Mana Manipulation and Mana Coalescence teacher. Still, there were some new tidbits, including a strange deep breathing technique that would allegedly help him cycle Mana through his Core more effectively.
The proof of the claim was yet to be seen, but reading through the text did raise his Mana manipulation skill from Beginner three to Beginner five, which Bill said was amazing on its own. Not too shabby, considering the total time he’d spent in game so far. Though, when Sam thought about how much money he’d spent to get his stats, the achievement felt a little less impressive. Still, he took it all in stride. Pay to win was a valid strategy, right? Sure, people tended to frown on it, but what was done was done, and he needed to celebrate his victories where he could.
Brilliant Blossoms: A field guide to basic herbology was a rather simple manual that identified a number of common—as well as a few uncommon—plants located throughout Eternium. It also detailed their various uses in potions, tinctures, and enchantments. The guide was as dull as watching paint dry, but it did earn him a new skill called Herbalism.
New skill gained! Herbalism (Novice IV). Plant? What plant? All you see is ingredients! Whether they are for dinner or for creating potions is up to you! Usable raw plants are 1% easier to find, 1% easier to process, and have 1% greater effect per skill level!
Despite reading and even rereading A Compendium of Magical Omens, which was supposed to be an Apprentice-ranked text, Sam couldn’t make heads or tails of the info inside. The entire volume just made his brain ache and earned him a number of failed ‘Perception and Knowledge checks’, suggesting the book may have been inaccurately shelved. Compendium on Protected and Dangerous Locations had a similar effect, which told Sam that those books needed to be set aside for later inspection. Just because they were worthless now didn’t mean they wouldn’t provide some tangible value once he hit a higher level.
Thankfully, The Book of Lost Incantations, Rediscovered! and Compact Fundamentals of Elemental Magic, Aeolus Edition, proved to be invaluable finds. From those two volumes alone—and Bill talking him through what he needed to learn—he’d gained a bevy of basic spells: Fireball (Novice I), Ice Orb (Novice I), Weak Acid Spray (Novice I), Weak Paralysis (Novice I), and once more unlocked Wind Blade (Novice I), which seemed like a spell from a lifetime ago.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t actually cast any of those spells, at least not outright like a Mage or Sorcerer could. Not anymore. Now, they were just spells on paper. Beyond all the success he was seeing, there had been a minor setback he’d had on the morning of his fourth day.
While inking out a page to use as a Paper Shuriken which was infused with both a Fireball spell and a Bookmark rune… Sam’s attention wavered for just a moment—a minor, tiny lapse. The spell scripting was rather repetitive, so it was an easy mistake to make, especially since Sam was crafting not one but hundreds of pages. Still, it only took a second of absent-minded daydreaming for his Mana to slip out of control and activate the spell prematurely, which resulted in a rather nasty *kablooey.*
A *kablooey* that wiped his health in the span of an eyeblink and sent him for an eight hour respawn—just about the worst thing that could happen, given he was operating under a tight, tight deadline. So long, twelve hundred experience. Getting back into the city from the Wolfman outpost ate through another six hours he didn’t have to spare. Not ideal, but Sam had used his boring respawn time to his advantage.
He hadn’t touched base with his parents since entering the game. That was only a week in the real world, but it was great to talk with them. His mom and dad both jumped on to the call and understandably wanted to know everything there was to know. How’s the game? What class had he picked? Had he made any friends yet? Was he having fun? Sam had to dodge and evade more than a few times, which made him feel guilty all the way down to his soul. He didn’t want to lie to his parents, but he could only say so much without setting off red flags.
After that call, Sam took a few hours to hop online and pour over the various forums and wikis which had popped up about Eternium, seemingly overnight. Sadly, the info available at this point was absolutely basic and mostly revolved around grap
hics to the tune of ‘OMG, are they so amazing or what?’, a few notes on attributes and leveling, and occasionally, some heated discussions about the pre-game ‘Trials’. All interesting, but nothing that even remotely helped Sam. There wasn’t anything about the Mage’s College, other than it existed inside the game, almost as though there was some sort of information black hole in regards to the secretive organization.
Sam guessed the game developers were probably culling any information about the College because they wouldn’t want the absurd ‘pay-to-play’ nature of the school to scare potential players away. A deeper search taught him that the reason any information at all was hard to find—any time information that was actually useful appeared, it was gone in under ten minutes. This was actually one of the most discussed aspects on the forums, as no one could figure out how.
The biggest thing Sam did was relax. All. By. Himself. Dying wasn’t a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination, but if it did have one tangible upside; Bill’s mental presence was nowhere to be found. Bill—for all his gruff and occasionally acrid personality—was growing on Sam like some kind of fungus, but to have a few minutes alone inside his own skull felt like heaven.
Just as quickly as his death had come, his life resumed. A step through the portal and it was right back into the grind, but this time with a walk of shame away from laughing Wolfmen. After that, Sam was much more careful about his work. Sure, he’d enjoyed the mini vacation, but he had too much to do and no time to spare.
Other than that one, minor slipup, everything went as well as possible. Dying had let his health come back fully, which was a positive that he didn't plan on taking advantage of again if he could help it. Aside from the spells and skill levels, he’d also earned a fistful of additional Characteristic points from some kind of ‘characteristic training’. Intelligence, dexterity, and wisdom had gone up by four over the last four days, constitution and perception by two… and he’d managed to unlock his first profession—Bookbinder.
You may choose one profession at the fifth level and another at level ten. It is recommended that you choose a gathering profession first to gain the materials needed for the next profession you choose.
Bookbinder: Only those truly dedicated to books and literature ever find their way on to this humble path. The bookbinder is a specialized craftsman, one who knows the deep mysteries of Coptic binding, Ethiopian binding, long-stitch binding, and a thousand other methods besides. They can tell the difference between Vellum and Parchment at a thousand paces and are as familiar with various paper forms as they are with the backside of their own hand. With only a touch, they can repair even badly damaged texts or assess the rarity of a book in moments. These wandering craftsmen are a boon to any library, and their services are often sought by those with vast storehouses of knowledge.
Profession benefits at first level: Increases the speed of reading and writing by 50%. Reduces cost and production time for paper, ink, and book bindings by 25%.
The profession was much more involved than Sam had realized initially. He now knew the difference between the recto and verso side of a leaf face, could rattle off the definitions, explain distinctive features of spines, or teach someone how to employ a traditional binding while also adding a finish to any manuscript. Definitely a skillset Sam never—not in a million years—expected to have, but as a Bibliomancer, it was the perfect profession. Plus, it worked in harmony with his other newly combined skill.
Spellbinding (Beginner V). The creation of magical documents is arduous and difficult, oftentimes deadly. Mitigating the risks is the best you can hope for. Effect: Each rank of this skill increases magical quill durability by 3%, magical ink purity by 4%, infused paper durability by 3% when it is used or created by you and decreases time to create desired magical ink by 5%. +2% writing speed and accuracy. Increases possible written spell diagram complexity and stability by 2n% per skill level, where n = skill level.
Skill increase: Coreless Spell Infusion (Novice IX). So close you can taste it, right? Looks like you might need a little inspiration to get past this bottleneck!
Name: Sam_K ‘Experimental Forger’
Class: Bibliomancer
Profession: Bookbinder
Level: 6 Exp: 19,323 Exp to next level: 1,677
Hit Points: 140/140
Mana: 478/478
Mana regen: 13.68/sec
Stamina: 145/145
Characteristic: Raw score (Modifier)
Strength: 20 (15+5 gear bonus) (1.15)
Dexterity: 30 (25+5 gear bonus) (1.25)
Constitution: 19 (1.19)
Intelligence: 45 (1.45)
Wisdom: 38 (1.38)
Charisma: 20 (15+5 gear bonus) (1.15)
Perception: 19 (1.19)
Luck: 12 (1.12)
Karmic Luck: -11
Overall, Sam was incredibly happy with his progress, but the time for study—for skill grinding, spell scribing, and magical material creation—was at an end.
Skill increased: Channeling (Novice VIII). Interesting. Nearly all of your non-combat spell creation utilizes this skill, while nearly none of your in-combat spells do. What a nice deviation from the norm!
He’d already burned through most of his seven-day limit, and he was still no closer to putting an end to Octavius, stopping the Mages, saving the Wolfman outpost, or freeing Velkan of the Redmane Tribe. Assuming the Wolfman Scout was still alive. Sam had some time to think about just how to accomplish his daunting task during the long days and short, restless nights. There were still a lot of potential pitfalls to work out, but Sam was certain of two things.
One, he couldn’t stop Octavius cooped up inside this little room. Two, he couldn’t do it by himself. As much as he’d grown under Bill’s watchful gaze, Sam knew he needed some serious help to pull this off. It was time to go recruiting. It was time to start the downfall of humanity.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I just spent the past four days inking the same eight spells five hundred times and burning through my health over and over,” Sam replied flatly, crossing his arms for emphasis. “I think we can wait a little longer. Besides, there’s no way we’ll be able to do this mission without some help.”
Sam skirted up to the edge of the alleyway, pressing his shoulder against the wall of a nearby building. He peered at the ramshackle structure—the Square Dog Inn. This was his rendezvous point with Dizzy and the rest of the Wolf Pack, and today was the day he and Finn were supposed to meet for their weekly grinding session. Sam was absolutely positive that Dizzy wouldn’t stand him up. The problem was, he couldn’t just waltz into the Square Dog all fancy-free, smiling, laughing, and pretending like nothing was wrong.
The Mage’s College was still actively hunting him, and they knew the connection between him and Dizzy. It made sense that they’d stick a tail on the Wolf Pack just in case Sam popped up out of the blue looking for a little help. Even if the Mages weren’t actively staking this place out, pitching rebellion against humanity inside a crowded bar full of human adventurers seemed like a pretty good way to get murdered by… well, pretty much everyone.
No, it wouldn’t do to disclose his secrets anywhere inside fifty miles of another witness. That meant Sam’s only option was to wait for Dizzy and her crew to leave the city, getting clear of any potential eavesdroppers, before cornering them with his offer of mutiny.
“They’ll be here, Bill,” Sam whispered, though a flutter of unease gave the lie to his words. Hopefully they’ll be here, he silently amended.
Bill was silent for a beat, almost as though his presence had withdrawn from Sam’s skull. The feeling was eerie. It turned out that Bill was simply searching for the right words.
This was a side of Bill that Sam hadn’t seen before. It was also a firm reminder that the non-player characters in this game were more than they seemed. On the surface, Bill appeared confident and so sure of himself… but underneath, he was an outsider just like Sam, a person who’d struggled with genuine friendships and wrestled with feelings of betrayal. In so many ways, Bill was Sam; the only difference was Bill had turned to library books while Sam had turned to gaming.