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Leaves of Terranthir - Chapter 25 Technology
🕑 Added 2021-01-14 18:56:41 +0000 UTCAuthor's note: Heyo. Chapter up and more hopefully next week :).
Chapter 25 Technology
Adrian aimed carefully, looking through the colored glass crosshair mounted to the back of the weapon, aligning it with the front sight added to the hook on the front of the crossbow. He felt the weight of the weapon in his arms, the added modifications luckily not making a massive difference. He counted down, breathing out slowly until he pulled the trigger. He grinned when he watched the bolt punch through the wooden door, the dull sound of it hitting more wood beyond resounding. He had gotten the timing right. As it turned out, he just had to get the muscle memory down, and if he understood anything about magic, it was that it felt like some kind of muscle within his mind.
One that hurt when he overtaxed it, but more importantly, a muscle that got better the more and longer he used it. Not about to let the small success get to him, he quickly pulled on the improved set of loading hooks. The glass slid back smoothly, pulling with it the heavy string and setting it back into the mechanism.
Adrian turned his crossbow sideways, looking at the two added rectangular glass containers. Having trained the movement hundreds of times already, he manipulated one of the three glass bolts resting within. The projectile moved out, rolling over the wooden part before it came to rest within the arrow track. He aimed again and shot the second bolt, trying to hit the same spot again.
He repeated the same for the two remaining bolts in the right compartment and then the three within the left one. All seven bolts penetrated the door, five of them accelerated by a magic push. He had become pretty good at pulling the string back but reloading another bolt still took a bit too long. The magical way was still much faster than just putting an arrow into the track but Adrian wanted a proper repeating crossbow.
His hand going to the quiver on his side, he reloaded the two compartments with three bolts each, the string already pulled back, barely any attention necessary for either action.
He aimed at the door and stopped himself. I should probably try this thing against actual monsters.
Adrian went back to the section of the wall that lead to the barracks, spear in hand in case any undead were hiding around any corners. His heavily modified crossbow rested on his back, a leather strap going around his chest to keep it there.
When he reached the section looking over the barracks, he put his gear down and checked it quickly. His spear he had modified with a thin glass layer going over the metal tip, just to give it that additional magic effect. He didn’t have the opportunity to test it against a mage yet but if the situation came up, he wanted to be prepared.
His backpack was mostly filled with chunks of glass and mana potions, enough to make over a hundred additional arrows, or something else that suited the situation. He had recently reached his limit to mana potions on a single day. Fourteen was the magic number. He assumed it had to do with his mana being at two seventy. Each of the potions he found in the barracks restored about two hundred points in the span of about half a minute. Thirteen meant an equivalent of two thousand six hundred, meaning a fourteenth potion brought him above ten times his normal amount of mana.
Why exactly it came to ten times his maximum mana, he didn’t know, but the puking and later headaches were enough to convince him to not try again anytime soon. With that many potions, he could train his magic for hours anyway, giving him ample opportunity to try things out and just get more used to everything.
Now that he was finally done cleaning up the undead on the way to the barracks, he was ready to test his magic on living targets. Or unliving, such as they were. To create more work for cleaning up, he thought. Yrenor had let him work on his magic for the past two weeks, the efforts bearing fruit in both experience and two more levels to his glass magic, the skill now at seven. Each advancement allowed for another piece to be controlled simultaneously but Adrian was more excited about the simple power increase. Both in the weight he could control and the velocity at which he could throw or shoot the objects.
He checked the knives resting in his belt compartments, the added glass pieces allowing him to keep sixteen of them on him at all times, the blades themselves smaller than his earlier dagger copies. He constantly adjusted the weight and size to test for effective throwing but right now, he was more excited to test his modified crossbow.
Adrian leaned a little over the battlement, looking down on the shuffling undead entirely ignorant of his presence. No more close quarters if I can avoid it at all, he thought, smiling slightly as he grabbed his crossbow, his magic not quite at a point yet where he could lift the thing with telekinesis alone. One day.
The string moved back as he looked for a target, a bolt moving into the track. He aimed at an unmoving undead, the crosshair lining up with the front sight before he fired, adding a magical push to the projectile. The bow shook slightly within his arms as the bolt shot out, punching through the undead’s head a split second later, gore exploding outwards on the other side, the projectile shattering against the stone ground behind the falling undead.
The other monsters looked towards the corpse, shuffling a little closer to the sound before they walked away again, moaning a few times in the process.
Holy fuck. I take everything back, this magic is awesome. Probably could’ve come here a week ago, he thought and looked for the next target, reloading the crossbow with the help of his magic. Should conserve mana and not use the additional push. Should be enough, he thought and shot the next being.
Half an hour later, Adrian looked down on a field of unmoving corpses, some with bolts stuck in their heads or chests. It turned out that the weapon itself had enough power to kill the undead from this distance. Easily. A part of his mana went to making new bolts, the thirty or so he had in his quiver used up quickly against the large group of shambling creatures.
The main things he learned were just how deadly his modified magical crossbow was and that shooting stationary targets and moving ones were entirely different things. He would have to train the latter for quite some time before he became proficient at it. I wonder what else I could use. Taking care of these corpses will take another day or two probably, even with the larger wagon.
He didn’t particularly mind the work. Killing undead rewarded Essence, but it wouldn’t help a lot with his magic training. That came from more intricate and less combat oriented endeavors. And each undead he killed created work for him, mostly because Yrenor demanded he take care of the corpses he created.
Got enough for another level, he thought and invested it into Wisdom, raising the stat to fifteen, or twenty eight with his current gear.
He grabbed his pack and shouldered his crossbow, quickly downing a mana potion before he took his spear. A content smile on his face, he walked back, thinking about potential moving targets he could train with, and the most optimal way to spend his time. For now there seemed to be plenty of potential avenues for improvements.
Adrian brushed away the sweat on his brow, calming his breath when he finally stopped the wagon near the growing pyre of dead undead.
“You’re late,” Yrenor said, looking at the sun.
“The sun sets in four hours,” Adrian said and started to unload the corpses, ignoring the smell.
The old man glanced at him, looking between the cart and the body he held. “Your creation seems to be efficient,” he commented.
“It is. More so than I thought,” Adrian said and put the corpse down. “May you find rest in hell, you damned monster,” he murmured in English, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Don’t be late again, even if you’re excited. The risk is too high,” the man said. “Come, leave them for today.”
Adrian looked between the wagon and Yrenor. “That’ll take half an hour at most.”
“You will come now or you will stay here,” he said. “The Wyrd come at sundown.”
The Wyrd. Been a while since I saw the last one, Adrian thought, remembering the dark shadowy creatures scratching on the window. He shuddered slightly before he looked at the sun again. “Can they be killed by magic?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Yrenor asked after a moment of silence.
“Can they be killed by magic?” Adrian asked again.
The man looked at him and sighed. “Yes. But they’re not comparable to these feeble creatures. It would be suicide to face them, even for me.”
“I’m not exactly limited by that,” Adrian said. “Go back, I’ll come when I’m done here.”
The old man looked at him with an intense glare, opening his mouth before he changed his mind, leaving without another word.
Four hours before they even start to appear. Someone’s fucking terrified, Adrian thought, continuing to unload the corpses. He did say a short made up prayer for each of them, just going through the motions.
To be fair, those things were fucking terrifying.
He returned to Yrenor’s home, the entrance still open. Sunlight broke through the trees above. Adrian quickly got to work on heating up some soup. “Would you mind it if I killed Wyrd?”
“You will die,” Yrenor said.
“Let that be my concern,” Adrian said. “Would you mind?”
Having to bring back all those undead I kill is what slows me down the most. I need to kill nearly two hundred simple undead to get a single level at this point.
“The Wyrd are evil spirits. It would benefit all if they were purged,” Yrenor said.
Wonderful, Adrian thought, keeping his face straight. I’ll have to prepare though. They can’t go through walls which will be a great benefit. Just have to find solid doors and a good place to shoot from. Maybe just a window.
“If you try, you’ll need that,” Yrenor said, pointing at the kitchen.
Adrian looked around. “What? Pans?”
“Salt,” the old man said.
“Salt? Are they some kind of demon or spirit?” Adrian asked, chuckling as he stirred the soup.
“I’m not sure what kind of creatures you are talking about but salt will help. They dislike it,” Yrenor said.
“How much exactly? Can I make a salt circle they can’t enter? Do they die if I throw it at them?” Adrian asked.
The old man grinned, dragging from his pipe. “Haven’t stayed to find out, Adrian. You don’t engage the Wyrd. You wait for the sun to rise.”
“What you say sounds scarier than what I’ve seen,” he said.
“Doors closed and locked, if none of them touch you, they might as well not be there. But pray to Neliarum if they find you,” Yrenor said.
Adrian didn’t say anything to that, sitting back down to work on his reading. He thought about the Wyrd later that evening, more so when the scratching started. The windows were all barred up, not letting him see the creatures.
The next day, Adrian prepared his pack, leaving the remaining mana potions behind at Yrenor’s home. He only packed his usual things, with some added food and water.
“I’ll be gone for a day or two,” he said when Yrenor came down from his attic floor.
He puffed. “Wyrd hunting?”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound like you disapprove.”
“Boy, if I could come back from the dead. I would do some crazy things too. Good luck. You’ll need it,” the warrior said and went to prepare himself for the day.
Adrian checked his throwing knives and quiver before he made his way towards the barracks.
With the way clear, he quickly went to the cellar and filled his pack with several crates of mana potions, adding some gear he thought may be useful in case he died. The next half hour he spent looking through the barracks, reading through reports and journals but not finding anything particularly interesting. He found what he had been looking for rolled up within a locked drawer in the largest office. The keys were on one of the undead still lying on the ground floor.
He rolled out the paper, grinning as he stared at the hand drawn map of Faenhold castle. Wonderful illustration, he thought and read through the small descriptions associated with numbers sewn throughout the map. There were no mentions of military or guard stations, likely to pretend intruders of easily locating everything with a single map. What was mentioned however were all kinds of stores.
Particularly interesting were leather workers, smithies, alchemy shops, clothes and food stores. Adrian thought about copying the map right now but decided to risk it, taking the original with him for now. He planned to go back to the royal chambers first. There he had the supplies to make good copies anyway. Especially if he died again, the map would be a wonderful resource. There should’ve really been some in that office. Oh well, better late than never.
His pack ready, Adrian left the barracks, going over the wall and back to the cleared out section of the town. By now he could easily orient himself, taking a mostly cleared way up towards where he had died against the fire mage. He gave the chapel a wide berth, soon reaching familiar yet uncleared alleys and stairs. Glancing around a corner, he found three undead shuffling around.
Adrian took his spear into his left hand, grabbing one of his daggers before he looked again and threw. The blade flew quickly, enhanced by his magic before it impaled the closest undead’s back. He already grabbed the next knife when he saw the creature fall down, not moving anymore. That really shouldn’t kill anything, he thought, throwing the next two knives in quick succession.
The other undead went down as well, each with what looked like a non lethal wound. Because it’s magic? he asked himself, walking up to the corpses and stabbing them an additional time before he collected his blades again, cleaning them off on the tattered clothes the creatures wore before he sheathed them once more.
The rest of the way went largely uneventful, Adrian killing a few more undead with throwing knives until he reached the familiar level of the near vertical castle town. He remained focused, looking at the corpses still lying in the alleys. Dead soldiers and dogs, the variants more common in the higher sections of the town it seemed.
It had been a few months since he had left on his way down to search for the mysterious smoke, ultimately leading to his fateful meeting with Yrenor. He wondered how he would’ve done without the man. By now he might’ve managed to clear out a large section of the upper levels, certainly doing better on essence than he was now. But he likely wouldn’t have magic at his disposal, let alone the strain put on him due to a lack of human interaction.
He had been scared, uncertain, untrained, bold, and without knowledge. Plenty of questions still remained but Adrian felt confident in his ability to find the answers on his own. The language barrier was mostly dealt with and with his new magical ability and the potions he had gathered, he would be able to navigate the dangerous terrain more efficiently.
When he stepped into the courtyard outside of his chambers, he crouched and listened, hearing the familiar jingle of armor. A patrol he must’ve missed before slowly shuffled towards him, as of yet far enough away not to recognize him.
Adrian put down his pack near the corner of a building, laying down his spear before he slowly unslung his crossbow, aiming down the sights as the string was pulled back by glass hooks. Using his magic to enhance the projectile speed, he first took out the dog trailing a little to the right of the patrol, the bolt pushing deep into the creature before it sagged down. He aimed at the first undead soldier, the creature staring at the dog as it moaned. It fell a moment later, the last two following quickly thereafter.
Nearly forty meters. My aim is definitely getting better, he thought, grabbing his pack and putting his crossbow on his back. He ignored the bodies for now, instead going straight to the closed door that led into the familiar stairwell where he had rested with his own corpse lying next to him. Adrian paused for a moment, looking at the dried blood still clinging to the stone steps. He blinked, walking past and up towards his chambers.
Soulbound:
Essence – 86
Level – 14
Vitality – 16
Endurance – 10
Strength – 9 [11]
Skill – 8 [10]
Intelligence – 16 [27]
Wisdom – 15 [28]
Soul skill – Flowing Glass Magic – level 7
Equipment:
Helmet – Faenhold Warmage Helmet [Rare]
Wisdom +5
Wood Magic Control +2%
Stun Resistance +18%
Chest – Faenhold Mage Robe [Rare]
Intelligence +5
Wind Magic Control +2%
Mana Shield +25%
Arms – Faenhold Warmage Bracers [High]
Intelligence +4
Fire Magic Mana Cost -2%
Hands – Faenhold Mage Gloves [High]
Wisdom +2
Magic Projectile Speed +1%
Belt – Leather Belt [Adequate]
Intelligence +2
Legs – Faenhold Mage Pants [High]
Wisdom +4
Fire Resistance +1%
Boots – Faenhold Mage Boots [High]
Wisdom +2
Fire Resistance +5%
1h Weapon – Faenhold Spear [Adequate]
Skill +2
Off hand – Knight Shield [Adequate]
Strength +2
Comments
Tyler Babcock
While I think the possibility of facing an enemy this early into his adventure that can prema kill him is pretty low. The possibility of running into a creature that torments or feeds off of pain/mana of living people, making them keep him alive for a long time could very well be real.
Dominic French
Damn it, he is totally setting himself up to get wrecked by the ghosts due to his arrogance lol. I don't know if the ghosts have some perma death thing or will torture him to death but he just jinxed himself.
Julien Fellegara
Tks
Kemizle
TFTC
Alexander Dupree
Thanks for the chapter
Thanks for the chapter. Looking forward to see how glass magic stacks up against those Wyrd guys.
Andrew
Thank you!
