Finally, I took up handcrafting with the elven woman, Remaldra, who had given me the wink the night before. Together we made woven bracelets and rings, and a necklace or two. Again, none of it was very high quality. Still, after we had completed our work, we were left with a small pile of accessory-type items. Some of the bone items were decidedly creepy, but I was glad to finally have something I could work with!
I probed Mjorn’s earring and my own ring one more time before we began, but their secrets remained a mystery.
As I worked, the elf talked. “You must tell me, what is this that makes your eyes weep mist?” she asked. “Are you gifted with Water magic as well as Fire, that steam is produced when you work your spells? I do not wish to offend, but I would not think someone so young might be so favored by the elven crown.”
Her tone was kind, not frightened as the dwarf had been, or derisive like the goblin, but I didn’t have enough answers for myself, let alone any to give her. “What would favor with the elves have to do with it?” I asked.
“Simply that the rulers of my people control the mana tree and her seeds. It is only through ancient treaty and high favor that they are given. It is rare that anyone outside of elven royalty has access to more than one seed.”
“Well, I’m not elven royalty, that’s for sure, and I’ve only been here three days. If anything I’m broken, rather than gifted," I groused.
“But you are gifted as an enchanter,” she insisted, “and your hunting is exceptional. You do not act as other mages do, and your magic is strange, but I do not see you suffer for it.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone who knew how things were supposed to be.” I looked at her.
She smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I am not the woman for that undertaking. It is true I have seen many mages at task, but the inner workings of the arcana are a mystery to me. Only noble houses and those close to the queen can afford the seeds, and the nobles buy them at such cost as to have only one mage in a generation. Outside of my people and the lottery of birth, the seeds are controlled largely by mage guilds or by royal families.”
“Are there any mages in the caravan?” I asked, though by this point I knew the answer.
“Sadly, no,” she responded. “We are much too poor a troupe for that. But that is why we value your assistance so highly! You have already been a great help to us, and,” she looked at me slyly, “to Mjorn.”
I blushed, and she laughed, high and clear in a way that reminded me of Mac. “Oh, Mjorn has a tasty morsel in his teeth!” she crowed, then laughed again, throwing up a hand in farewell as she departed.
My efforts, and those of my teachers, left me with both Leatherworking and Alchemy skills and had leveled my Handcraft. I was fine with the Alchemy and Handcraft, but didn’t know how much I’d use the Leatherworking. The work was slow and difficult, as well as smelly and off-putting. Really, it seemed that at the moment Handcraft was the best thing I had going, so I was glad to get back to making wands.
I was well through my pile of wands-to-be when Mjorn finally returned. I wasn't quite as happy to see him as I’d expected to be, and he didn’t seem to be his charming self either. A look of anger and annoyance flashed through his features when I told him I hadn’t made any progress with the earring.
“You are an enchanter. An attribute enchantment should have been the first thing you learned," he admonished. “What use do I have for hundreds of nearly identical wands?”
Taken aback and at a loss, I apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just trying to help!”
His face clouded further. “What more use have you than gathering firewood, then?” he muttered.
Surprised by his change in tone, I opened my mouth to respond, but it struck me again that he was simply an NPC. I wanted to help him, still hopeful that somehow I might get a quest from him—and more—but his tone rankled me.
“I will help with whatever quest you have for me, Mjorn, but I am not your servant," I told him.
Expecting an apology, I was shocked when Mjorn barked a scornful laugh. “You think not? You have worked for me this entire day for nothing more than a bauble and a kiss! What are you, then? If not a servant, then a fool at the least. Now, return my earring If you aren’t going to do anything useful with it!”
My eyes stung as I handed the earring over, and he fixed it back into his ear. I did feel foolish, looking at him then. His jaw, lined with stubble. Those eyes... He had taken me in and doted on me, and I couldn’t do this simple thing he wanted. I didn’t care about the work I had done. I was glad to have the experience and the teachers, but it hurt that I might lose the affection he had shown me the night before. I would do anything to avoid that.
“What else can I do?” I asked him, desperately afraid to lose his affection. In a hazy way I realized that he was indeed getting a lot out of me, but if it kept him close I couldn’t figure out why I should care. I was learning new skills and advancing my Enchanting and Handcraft, which was great. I so wanted his attention, and he just wanted me to do what I’d promised him I would...
He sighed, seemingly bored with the conversation. “Just finish your enchantments and then go collect firewood.”
So I did, gathering furiously in vain hope that I could somehow impress him with my handling of the simple task. As I worked, I sank into a mire of hopelessness while a frantic energy simultaneously grew inside me. I had to get back into Mjorn’s good graces. I had to!
It was in that state I returned to camp, heart full of hope and terror, arms full of firewood. I found Mjorn by the fire, wrapped in the embrace of my Handcraft instructor.
Chapter 14
Mjorn looked up at me from their spot by the fire and smirked. “Back from gathering wood, troll?” The nickname that had once carried affection now conveyed only scorn.
Remaldra looked up too and smiled, her pleasant tone belying her words. “I reassured my husband that his hooks were firmly set. And that such a simpleton as you should pose no threat. Did you enjoy the company of my big, strong man?”
“Husband...” I repeated.
“Of course!” she responded, exultant. “Did you really think a man such as him could have an interest in such a shrinking, broken young thing as you? I should laugh myself sick! Ah well, it is best to have this done with regardless. We have other fragile dumplings to scoop out of the pot!”
I looked at Mjorn’s face, which was now awash with cruel satisfaction. Brutal realization swept over me.
That earring—he had charmed me!
I stood for a moment and stared blankly, then turned on my heel and strode out of the encampment, fuming. How could I have been so stupid? I was blinded by his charm, sure, but Remaldra’s words rang true. I really wasn’t worth his attentions. I wasn’t worth anyone’s. He had gotten closer to me than I had ever let anyone get, and confirmed for me what I’d always suspected—that no one could truly want me. I had let him know what I had barely let myself know, and now he had spurned me.
Everyone in the camp knew, and they would all be laughing at me.
Mjorn’s voice broke through my thoughts before I made the wagons. “Troll, don’t be upset! Come sit by the fire! Remaldra is just protective, that’s all.”
His tone was kind again, and it touched something in me. Why would he have attempted to charm me if he didn’t want something from me? I obviously had some value to him—I would just have to find out what that was.
And maybe he was just putting on a show for Remaldra. In fact, she seemed to be far too interested in pushing me away. She must be jealous of the attention Mjorn had given me. And really, was sticking around so bad? Even if Mjorn wasn’t mine, being around him was intoxicating. And, if I kept advancing my skills the way I had today, what was the downside?
Chagrined, I turned back toward the fire. Why did I always have to be so dramatic?
+1 to Wisdom
You have resisted Seduction. Success of further seduc
tion attempts is greatly reduced.
Confusion fell from me all at once, like breaking through a bank of fog. Seduction?! I hadn’t even thought to watch for that. In RPGs I’d played you might get charmed, but that just meant getting a few hearts over your head and attacking your teammates for a few turns. This was miles beyond that: an invasion so intimate it demanded redress. Deep down, I had known something was wrong, but that knowledge had been inundated by self-doubt, confusion, and lust—personal weaknesses he had used against me!
Indignation exploded into rage inside me, and I was beyond control yet again, barreling toward the fire and bellowing incoherently.
Almost casually, Mjorn got to his feet, pleased with himself in a way that only infuriated me further.
It all went so fast. I lunged, intent on murder, and Mjorn simply stepped to the side, grabbed my sleeve, and pulled. Pain blossomed at the base of my skull before I’d even had time to realize—
I came to, sprawled in the leaf litter of the camp. Struggling to register what was happening, I first noticed the leaves, then the man leaning over me, and then the knife at my throat. Seeing me awake, Mjorn spoke in a steely tone. “Let me be clear, troll. If you so much as twitch a finger in my direction again, this will be your punishment.” He slashed with his dagger, and for a moment I was too stunned to comprehend what had happened. A spray of blood spat across his face. My blood! I gasped, but no air came into my lungs. Instead, hot blood poured in and they convulsed, struggling for air, but only filling more and more with the warm weight.
The pain came delayed, subdued by panic as I struggled to breathe, and as my mind rapidly fogged. Gurgling helplessly, I died.
And then I was awake again, lying on my back at the edge of the fire. My chest and neck spasmed instinctively as I gasped for air, but bile forced its way up my throat, choking me once again. I rolled, and coughed, and choked, and vomited again. My hands clawed at my throat, feeling for damage that was no longer there.
And then I was on my feet, mindless with fear. I bolted for the forest, still retching.
I raced past the wagons and into the trees, pelting through the darkness, indifferent to what dangers it might hold. Ignoring twisted ankles and scraped shins, I fled visions of Mjorn’s grim face. I was pelting down the side of a ravine when my legs suddenly fell out from under me and my arms refused to catch me. My face met dirt, and everything became a chaos of movement, limbs flailing like a ragdoll’s as I rolled end over end before coming to rest at the bottom.
The shock of the fall brought me back to myself, and I lay still for several moments catching my breath. My cheek burned, but no other major pain manifested. It wasn’t until I tried to pull myself up on my elbows that the true extent of what had happened dawned on me. I was paralyzed.
Fearing what was behind me more than my current circumstance, I searched for a cause, and noticed a new icon had appeared on my HUD.
The Mayor’s Curse (curse)
The mayor’s cursed ring prevents you from moving any farther.
The Mayor’s Curse? I summoned my inventory worriedly. All my new clothing was gone. I was dressed again in the simple browns of a beginning character, and my knife and coin pouch were nowhere to be found. All that was left was the ring I’d received from Mjorn. Despairing, I read the description.
The Mayor’s Ring (cursed, etherbound)
The mayor of Kalsip has conscripted you for the king’s army. Welcome to The Boundless!
+5 Intellect
Curse effects
10 Hit Points
10 Stamina Points
10 Mana Points
You may not move more than 100 meters from an owner of The Mayor’s Bracelet of Control.
Those weren’t bonus stats! Frantically, I checked my resource bars. Sure enough, 10 HP, SP, and MP. My attributes remained the same, but my Mana Capacity had been knocked back to initial stats. Welcome to The Boundless indeed! Was this happening to everyone who’d received The Mayor’s Ring?
I couldn’t move to take the ring off, and wasn’t sure I’d be able to if I could move. Some games made cursed items impossible to remove by normal means. I began to comb through my character info with a fine-toothed comb, searching for a way out, but in reality I still only had two spells. I activated Ether, which I already knew would be of no help, before diving into the description for Flow.
Flow II
Cost: 3 MP per second
Range: 30 meters
Cast Time: 1 seconds
Duration: Channeled
Description: Creates a pathway for mana to flow into and out of objects. An object’s ability to accept mana is affected by its Wisdom (creatures), or by its Quality (items). An object’s ability to resist Flow is determined by its Intellect (creatures), or by its Quality (items). Exceeding these limits may cause damage.
Effect: 2 mana flow per target Wisdom/sec (creatures)
2 mana flow per target Quality/sec (items).
Creature targets with more than 2 points of Intellect are immune.
Objects of Quality Good or higher are immune.
Requirements: Ether, Class Spell
This spell is learned.
Maybe I could disintegrate the ring, just like I had the grass in the starting area, if I could only move my head to see it! Doing so may as well have been asking my body to fly. Attempting to lift my arm had no effect.
Closing my eyes in frustration, I reached out, trying to will my nerves back into action, but there was simply nothing there. I probed each body part in turn, trying to find anything there to stimulate. I wasted long minutes fumbling for any sign of feeling in my limbs, but there was nothing there.
But there was... something else. Over the long minutes I began to realize that I couldn’t feel my limbs, but I could sense them. Or at least the mana they contained. It was like searching for a flashlight in a dark room, relying on a means of perception I wasn’t familiar with and trying to translate that input into what I knew to be there. The mana felt… firm. And then there was a hard, thick knot right around my finger. That could only be one thing. Triumphantly, I cast Flow.
It had absolutely no effect.
In truth I hadn’t expected it to. The ring was Good Quality, as noted by the yellow text of its name. The mana inside the ring stayed tightly bound to it. Over the course of several tries, I was unable to break even a single strand loose. It was time to try something else.
Disintegrating or enchanting things around me would be pointless, but still I searched. Anything to help me avoid coming face to face with Mjorn again. There had to be something else…
As I searched my body, it slowly dawned on me that I was feeling more than just my own mana. I’d felt the ring before, and I was now feeling the wispy mana that floated through the air around me! I could also feel the more substantial mana of the ground beneath me! It was a jumble, but it was palpable.
I stretched with that sense, trying to feel farther and farther away for something to help me, and pushing to move the sense away from my body.
You have acquired a new Class Skill: Ethereal Form!
Unbelievable. I almost cried at seeing yet another Class Skill. If only I’d had a regular build, I wouldn’t be in this ridiculous mess! I’d have had the quest keeping me in town with everyone else. I’d have a spell that would enable me to fight! I wouldn’t be alone and paralyzed in a ditch, chained to this psychotic lothario. I moaned in outrage at the canopy above me, unable to throw a real tantrum due to my incapacitation.
I had sailed my way up shit creek and now I’d either have to find a paddle or get used to the smell.
I accessed my new skill.
Ethereal Form (???) — Rank 1
Those intimately attuned to the ether may separate their consciousness from their physical form and assess their environment, though doing so leaves both body and mind vulnerable, and is limited by the potency of the skill. The ethereal form is considered a spirit and may be summoned, bound, and rendered corporeal by th
ose with the skill, while the body’s resistance to magic is negated. Only Ether spells may be cast while using Ethereal Form.
No way—astral projection?! Not a way to escape, or attack, or do anything. Just a way for me to be useless somewhere else! I would have screamed in rage if my jaw could move.
Still, my toolbox was now up to three tools, and I’d already tried the others.
Trying to stay calm, I pushed again. It really was like moving a hand in the dark, especially since the in-game map wasn’t accessible. More ground, more air, and then something more mobile. A flow outside the flow. Water. A stream!
After a moment of surprise, I began to probe farther and farther away from myself, feeling my way over the more substantial mana of trees and the even more substantial mana of small animals. There must be something that could help! And indeed my hope surged as I discovered a strong cluster of mana, only to realize that, in my search, I had come upon one of Mjorn’s wagons at the edge of his camp. I shied away, terrified that one of Mjorn’s companions might somehow feel my presence.
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