by Aleron Kong
Bartle looked at Richter with a bit of wonder in his eyes, “This is astounding, Lord Richter. The next writing style is called, calligraphy. I have not mastered the technique, however. Bea would be the one to show you.”
Despite Bartle’s statement, Bea’s expression conveyed, ‘I prefer not to.’ While one Scholar seemed delighted at Richter’s natural ability, the other was clearly resentful that what he had worked so hard at came without effort to the chaos seed. Whatever his reservations, though, Bea was not so foolish to show Richter further disrespect or defiance. “This is calligraphy, Lord Richter.”
Bea dipped Bartle’s pen in the inkpot again and started writing. His hand movements were much more pronounced than his fellow Scholar’s had been. They had to be as the characters he was making were an entire level of complexity more involved than cursive. Long flourishes extended above and below each line as his hand moved from left to right across the page. When Bea ran out of room on the paper, he moved his hand down immediately and began writing right to left, in opposition to his previous progression. Richter’s eyes widened when he saw that the flourishes on the lower line intersected and connected with the lines of the letters above. Before long, he could see that a third line of letters had been created by the union of the first two lines. Bea was not done. When he ran out of room again, he moved his pen downward on the page and began writing left to right again. The flourishes on this new line intersected not only with the line above but also with the first line. The top and bottom lines now formed even larger letters. He marveled at the complexity and efficiency of this writing style. Not only would someone need to know how to write with it, but they would also have to have planned out exactly where each word would fall so that the lines could interact to create the resulting script! Calligraphy was a marvel of talent and planning. Despite the complexity, Richter could still clearly make out what Bea was writing.
Now understanding the patterns, the chaos seed thought for a moment about what he would write and then settled upon the perfect topic, the first original poem he would add to The Land. Already seeing exactly where each word would go in his mind, Richter’s hand moved with a smooth and steady stroke. After a few seconds, he laid the pen down with a smug smile. Randolphus read it aloud.
There once was a man named Tag
Whose girl was a horrible nag
But he pushed as hard as he could
And she still swallowed his wood
And all he could do was brag!
The chamberlain looked at Richter, “Very… creative, my lord.”
“I thought so,” Richter said with a chuckle. Bartle chuckled as well. Bea didn’t laugh, but his expression had become one of respect. Respect tinged with jealousy but respect nonetheless. Richter was pretty sure that change was because of his writing skills, not his poetry.
Congratulations! You have learned a new writing style: Caligraphy. +30% success in creating magical books and items reliant on writing when you use this writing style. +30% writing speed.
Congratulations! Your relationship with Bea has improved from Irritable to Neutral.
So you were irritable with me, were ya, ya little cunt rag, Richter thought. He glared at the Scholar again, who had no idea what he had done to pique the chaos seed’s ire once again. Richter took a deep breath and let his frustration go. Whether Bea was a punk or not was less important than the fact that their relationship was moving in the right direction. “Are there other writing styles?” Richter asked.
“There are, Lord Richter,” Bea said. “They are called olde writ and runic and are granted for reaching the adept and master ranks of Scribing, respectively. Neither of us know the styles well enough to even give you a proper example, however, Lord Richter. Adept and master scribes don’t let lower ranked scribes see examples of these higher writing styles unless you are training beneath them. Even within our guild, you must climb to the position of officer to be allowed access to those books. If you get a sufficiently advanced book, however, I might be able to identify the script. It would actually be greatly appreciated if you would teach us how to write in a more advanced script.” Bartle nodded vigorously in agreement.
You have been offered a Quest: The Right Words. Scholar Bea has offered to identify advanced writing styles in any books that you might have. If you were to share information about these advanced writing styles, he and his fellow Scholars would be extremely grateful. Reward: More advanced writing style. Will you seek such a book? Yes or No? Optional: teach the Scholars a more advanced writing style.
Richter selected ‘Yes.’ The only question was where would he find a book that had been written in an advanced writing style? One corner of his mouth pulled up. Perhaps in a high level magic book? Richter pulled out the highest level Death magic book that Beyan had given him.
You have found: Book of a Potent Waking Nightmare. Casting this spell upon a target will summon a Death creature in the form of their own worst nightmare. This creature will be three times the level of the target. Death of the target will trigger the banishment of the summoned creature. Only the target will be attacked by the Waking Nightmare unless it is attacked by others. In this case, the Nightmare will continue to attack these fools until the spell elapses or until each attacker is severed from the mortal coil. Durability: 64/71. Item Class: Scarce. Quality: Superb. Weight: 1.8 kg. This is a spell of Death, level 62. Must have Death magic skill level 62.
Richter hadn’t really read the scrutinized the book once he had seen that it was far beyond his current skill level. He could now see why it was a journeyman-ranked spell. According to his Lore book, spell strength generally followed a pattern: weak, minor, inferior, average, strong, potent, superior, powerful and grand. All of his spells only fell into the weak and minor categories so far. Even those had been enough for him to win most of the fights he had been in. A spell that could summon a creature three times your own level and was custom made to strike fear into your heart, though… that was some next level shit!
He examined the object. The book was bound in a grey skin of some type. The binding was also well made, and it was a heavier book than any of the others that Richter had handled in the past. Richter placed it on the table, and both Scholars got up from their seats so they could get a better look. He opened the book. He immediately got another prompt saying that he could not learn this spell at his current Death magic skill level. Seeing as how that actually worked in his favor, in this case, he dismissed the notification and started reading the book. Before he had even been able to turn the page, Bea broke his concentration.
“Can you read this, Lord Richter?” The anticipation and hunger for knowledge was evident in the Scholar’s voice.
“Yes,” Richter replied. “You can’t?” He had never said he wasn’t a dick.
Bea ground his teeth, “No.”
“Man, that must be frustrating,” Richter said with a smile. He went back to reading. Actually taking the time to see how a spell was described was an interesting experience. As Richter continued to turn the pages, he found that a spell was actually a mixture of being in the right mindset, channeling energy through certain parts of your body in a specific way, keeping a certain spell form in mind and many other details. Even proximity to certain ley lines came into place. Richter was amazed at all the information that he was able to access intuitively upon absorbing a spell book. He knew that lower level spells were probably not as intricate, but even if they were a tenth as involved, the rapid absorption of knowledge from a magic book was centuries beyond available technology on Earth! This was like that Matrix movie President Reeves had been in.
After he had read several pages, Richter felt like he had a good grasp on the style this was written in. He turned the page of scrap paper over and started writing. This style not only incorporated the flourishes and extra strokes that calligraphy demanded, but also used expressions of language rather than concise words. It was almost poetic.
Unfortunately, he had no idea how he could tea
ch it to the Scholars. His intuitive comprehension of how to use the penmanship style didn’t mean he understood the basic principles of it. He supposed it was the same as a native English speaker being unable to explain what the pluperfect tense was. Bea was going to be disappointed. That might actually be a plus as far as Richter was concerned, though, so it really wasn’t a problem. Besides, Richter had just gotten some good news.
Congratulations! You have learned a new writing style: Olde Writ. +40% success in creating magical books and items reliant on writing when you use this writing style. +40% writing speed.
“May I see that book, my lord?” Bea asked quickly. Though he was speaking to Richter, his eyes didn’t leave the book. Bartle had the same avaricious expression, but he was more reserved.
Richter slowly closed the book. He hated to waste quest experience, but these books were Beyan’s, and he was just holding them. Also, he didn’t trust Bea completely, so he wouldn’t be handing them over. With his decision, he received a prompt.
You have completed a Quest: The Right Words. The Book of a Potent Waking Nightmare is scribed in Olde Writ. Examination of this text has granted you an understanding of the writing style. You have decided to not share this information unless Beyan has given his approval. You have failed the optional portion of this quest.
Reward: Olde Writ writing style.
Reward: 625 (base 1,000 x 1.25 x 0.5) experience points.
Not a lot of experience, but he would take it. Richter looked at the Scholars, “These books are not mine to give or lend out. You will have to speak with Beyan about that, and he just went for his Trial. If you and he come to an agreement, then I will help you. Do well on building my table, and I will speak to him on your behalf.”
Bea didn’t look happy, but he nodded, “As far as the table is concerned, my lord. I will need certain materials. I will need several measures of powdered crystal, the help of someone with the Wood Working skill and, most importantly, the magically conductive wood I mentioned, the rarer, the better. Can you arrange to have these things brought to me?”
You have received a Quest: Raw Materials. Bea the Scholar has agreed to make a larger version of the knowledge tablet. Among other components, he requires wood from a type of tree with a rarity of ‘scarce’ or higher. Reward: A Knowledge Table. Will you obtain what he needs? Yes or No?
Richter perfunctorily selected ‘Yes’ again. Bea might be a bit of a dick, but the guy also seemed to be a quest factory. He wanted to get back on track, though. It was always good learning about various things, but there was going to be a birth tonight. There was still one more thing he had to go over with the Scholars.
“We keep getting off track. Like I said before, since I have reached the rank of journeyman in Enchanting, I can create spell books. I need a blank book to try and make this happen.”
Bea looked hesitant, but still said, “I can sell a blank book to you, Lord Richter.” Richter started to glare at him, but the man raised his hands to calm the chaos seed, “This is standard procedure, my lord. I promise. I am sorry for our earlier interaction, but making books is a laborious process. Bartle was right in that we had to make many books as part of our training, but even our guild would pay us for our work at this point. I will offer an extremely fair price. I promise you that I have learned my lesson regarding any… tricks, my lord.”
Richter nodded. He would believe in Bea’s dedication to fair play when he saw a pattern of it, but the man at least seemed genuine in this case. The Scholar had already shit the bed in regards to Richter having faith in him. The chaos seed decided to focus on the task at hand, “I respect your work and will pay a fair price for it. How much per book?”
“It depends on the quality, Lord Richter,” Bea said. “There are eleven ranks for book quality: trash, poor, average, above average, well crafted, exceptional, superb, exquisite and masterwork. Starting at above average, those books can be used to make magic books. One of the reasons that all scribes are required to make books in service to the guild is that Book Binding is a subskill of Scribing and must be leveled. I, for instance, am an initiate in Book Binding. Most of the books I make are above average in quality.”
“What about you?” Richter asked Bartle.
“I am an apprentice in Book Binding, almost progressed to journeyman rank. I have equal chances at this point to make well crafted or exceptional books. I will also be able to make them faster than Bartle, but it will by no means be a quick process.” the Scholar replied. “The baseline time to make a blank book is one week, Lord Richter. The required time decreases by one day for each subskill rank. In Yves, I can sell my well crafted blank books for one silver each. I sell exceptional books for one silver and four coppers.”
“I will sell my above average books for seven coppers each,” Bea added.
“I can handle that,” Richter said. He bought all of the empty books they had with them and ended up with four above average, six well crafted and seven exceptional books. He also bought four vials of well crafted black ink. It was enough for him to start working, but it was also all that the Scholars had. The bigger problem, they informed him, was that they were running out of combed flax, which was the base component they used to make paper. “How do you go about making more?” he asked.
Bartle shrugged, “We actually are not involved in most of the process. There are dedicated alchemists in Law who have made their own guild, the Guild of Woven Trees, who take raw wood to make untreated flax and treat it to produce this.” Bartle took a small amount of rope of what looked like straw-colored hair from his pouch. “This is combed flax. You can tell the quality of the material by the softness. It may not look like much, but this one kilogram of combed flax required over twenty-five kilos of raw flax to create. It needed to be treated with various acids and purification techniques. Once we have this combed flax, we can turn it into paper. This one kilo is enough for me to make one small book. We only have six more of these, Lord Richter.”
God, Richter thought. What he wouldn’t give for a CVS. He could see now why even a blank book would cost as much as an average laborer made in a fortnight. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, something else occurred to him, “Randy. Do I even want to know how much we are paying Abbas and his brothers for paper?”
“I do not believe so, my lord,” Randolphus responded.
Richter grunted. At least the man was honest. There had to be an easier way to do this, though. He asked that exact question.
“There is a Talent called Writing Tools,” Bartle admitted. “The first level of the Talent allows me to make books using raw wood at the same quality as if I did it the hard way. I would also be able to make a passable stylus and ink from raw materials. The Talent costs ten talent points, though, my lord. That is an entire levels worth of TPs. I am saving for a more advanced talent dealing with long range communication. I am sure you understand that as a noncombat Profession, it is extremely difficult for Scholars to level and I cannot countenance wasting my talent points in such a way. I have to think about my future.”
Richter listened intently without interrupting. Hearing the man bemoan the loss of ten talent points really did underscore how fortunate he was to have the extra TPs from his high affinity and chaotic nature. When Bartle finished speaking though, Richter still felt like he might have something to convince the Scholars to do as he wished, but he decided not to push the point yet. Instead, he bought one other item from Bartle. It was the most expensive item yet, but Richter agreed it was well worth it. The man had pulled out another small wooden box. Inside was a pen.
You have found: Steel-tipped pen. Durability: 17/17. Item Class: Common. Quality: Well Crafted. Weight: 0.3 kg.
The Scholars explained that precision was the hallmark of success in their Profession. Even the best quills, they said, were at best broad-based and often caused ink to bleed across the page. The pen allowed Richter to write clearly and concisely. Bea stated that there were enchanted pens that gave all sorts of
bonuses, but to learn how to scribe, a basic pen was apparently a must. It cost him another five silver and four coppers, but now he had what he needed.
“How do I make my magic book?” Richter asked.
The Scholars guided him through the process, and it wasn’t exactly cheap. He had to use two measures of powdered crystal. One was mixed into an inkwell, and the other was sprinkled through the pages of one of his new books. Richter received two prompts.
Congratulations! You have created: Basic Black Ink (enchanted). Durability: 5/5. Item Class: Uncommon. Quality: Smooth. Weight: 0.1 kg. Traits: Can be used to make enchanted and magical documents.
Congratulations! You have created: Blank Book (enchanted). Durability: 11/11. Item Class: Uncommon. Quality: Above Average. Weight: 0.5 kg. Traits: Can be used to make a magical book.
“Okay, what do I do now?” Richter asked.
Bea shrugged.
Richter’s eye twitched, and he thought to himself, did this dick just shrug at me?
CHAPTER 27 -- Day 112 -- Kuborn 2, 15368 EBG
Seeing Richter’s irritated expression, Bea decided to try and be a bit more helpful, “This is as much as I have ever helped a mage or enchanter to start a spell book. Magicians always just seem to know what to write, and very few would willingly share their knowledge. Once you have written the spell, though, I can use my Perfect Scribing Talent to potentially improve the quality of the book.”
Richter sighed, “Why is this so complicated? And how does Perfect Scribing help to improve anything? Honestly, when I first heard about it, I thought it was kind of useless.”
Bartle chuckled in understanding, “You are not the only one who has thought this, Lord Richter. Part of our training in the guild is actually explaining why this is one of the more useful talents. As the name implies, at its first level, Perfect Scribing lets us write perfectly. That allows us to make documents look pretty, but I agree, it seems a waste of talent points. At the second level, however, Perfect Scribing lets a Scholar correct a document or book that someone else has written. For a small amount of mana, I could alter anything you wrote to reflect what you intended to write. It lets a Scholar remove any errors in spelling, stray inkblots, poor spacing and other inconsistencies. All of these things can greatly affect the final effectiveness of a spell or skill book. Whatever ability you have that is allowing you to learn advanced writing styles is amazing, Lord Richter, but everyone makes mistakes when writing. This is especially true if you are using more advanced penmanship styles.”
