So that’s how the scrolls natural cut-off can be supercharged Salt thought to himself as he sat in a constructed cave under a landscape pavilion reading his tome of scrolls. His Arcane servants busy cutting the throats of and reanimating the survivors and corpses of the white streamers of time slaver Corps. “Battle really gives you insights that pale in comparison to pure study” he told his gagged and blindfolded newly quadruple amputee acquaintance. “So, the white streamers of time quite the mouthful but it has a certain elegance I suppose.” Stopping to make an annotation in the tome Salt pondered for a minute before resetting his tome on his staff and spoke directly to the man. “I did not save you; you are not saved Mr. Ristling. I will place a death crystal on this shelf Mr. Ristling, I want you to touch it to your head when you hear others come searching. The others are from a different slave Corps than you Mr. Ristling, and I would very much like them not to capture me. Now without your arms and legs you would have to push yourself to get to the crystal, but I have faith in you. The crystal is charged you see Mr. Ristling and over very little time without your mana node that is unfortunately almost empty now you will start to turn zombified. An unfortunate event but see it as motivation please. Now to business.”
“I call” intoned Salt “The purifying flame, the tomb of the earth, the water of deaths journey, sails filled with the winds of change.” striking a handmade burial gong Salt continued “do not come to me for justice, I did not kill you for such a thing. Do not cry to the havens for I wanted no quarrel with you. Do not ask your ancestors for vengeance, for I did not kill you by choice. Let go of resentment, let go of what was. Embrace the path you are on now, for it is eternal as is your soul. Do not ask why, ask what awaits. Gird yourself what may come now, gather what strength you can for the great journey. Farewell.” And with the last words Salt took Mr. Ristling blindfold of from the back and exited the cave hurriedly.
What awaited him outside was quite a charnel house, skeletons hanging from rafters groping and clanking in hatred for his lifeforce. The 20 remaining skeletons ha had left after fashioning the others into a ritual of undeath focused on the crystal beneath. He had the skeletons walk in circle counterclockwise bringing periodically more death aspected mana into the ritual. The truth was he never expected Mr. Ristling to help him, but the pure spite he would feel in the agonising moments before his death would if Salt had read it right, help fuel the ritual making Mr. Ristling a sort of magic abomination of death. But if all else failed Salt would be a long way away as the slaver Corps came to check. Letting go of his control over the remaining skeletons Salt walked to hide number 2 conjuring servants as he went.
Lavoisier der Copferlasange was in a thoroughly rotten mood not only was he told not to valiantly combat some minor necromancers, but by a hireling no less. If he was not on his last chance with the family, then he would have gored the silly mage. But no “we have to consolidate our forces and question the witness again” at least he could wait here. Maybe if they were slow with the camp of the red death or whatever, then they could camp here, and he could get his drunk on. Yes, that sounded marvellous and something he should start on right now, “set up my tent if you please, and some way away from the stench of the privy for gods sake.” Let's see, ah the Mordragar Chivit fire spirits a good, good start.
Sitting in a room not a kilometre away Salt contemplated his failings. Well first he had made 11 plans of quick escape and 3 of attacking the enemy, this might be the reason he was sitting here safe. But it was also the reason he was sitting here stumped for what to do. Now the life leach scrolls had worked almost too well, without the improvisation he did with the death crystal, the scrolls would have burned up or exploded soon or soonish. His remembered knowledge in scroll and tome craft was rapidly coming to an end. Deciding that this was as good a place as he was likely to find Salt decided to take a few bells and read up on his scroll craft, maybe he was sitting on a disaster just waiting to happen and he was too inexperienced to know.
Studying some hours in till the fifth silence Salt got up to check his minefield layout. Levitating trough a weirding route set by a randomiser algorithm and sensing the war beasts and detectors set up, Salt was glad for his eclectic knowledge. Being able to cast spells from different foci and sources made him hard to detect and pinpoint. Taking as many classes as he did have served him in many places he did not expect. The elementary shapeshifting for example let him keep all skin cells, lashes, hair and other detritus that falls of naturally and leaves a trail. It was a far cry from changing his face, shifting his nails into claws or growing ablative fur. But Salt did not need ablative fur, he needed to not shed skin or smells that the war beast could pick up a trail from.
Slowing as he saw the edges of the enemy camp Salt quickly checked the minefield and seeing little deterioration over the hours it had been since he had lain it down. Turned right around and walked in the direction of the first camp attacked called red slash Corps. Spending an hour on walking to a place 10 minutes away got tiresome, but there was simply to many ways to find him. He could be scried, found by fey or fairies, found trough math or psychological predictions. Come hell or high water, he would be gone from here in 6 hours.
The red slash Corps camp was a mess, blood pools every other step and bones so many bones. Ripped cloth looted and broken cases and tents, this place was perfect to try the rites on. Setting his servants to collecting the bones and detritus Salt found a skull without holes or battle damage, rinsing it out with water he then sat it down in a circle that was taking shape. Using his soul as when he communed with Soil or the Eldering tree, he found he could make the arcane servants do quite dexterous things. Using the servants to cut out a ritual circle Salt went over the word and changed some from last time. When at last the circle was complete and Salt had put some warding and booby-traps down in case, he attracted someone with a covetous heart. Salt lit a spark on the pyre of the dead and intoned; “I call the purifying flame, the tomb of the sleeping earth, the water of deaths journey, sails filled with the beatific winds of transformation.” Ringing a newly made gong Salt tried to see the concept of the weel of life and death. And tried to feel the lessening of the contempt and judgment of the murdered fall from his shoulders thus imbuing the skull he was laying down runes on with a certain amount of grace and a patina of holiness.
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“Do not cry to the havens for I wanted no quarrel with you. Do not ask your ancestors for vengeance, for I did not kill you by choice. Let go of resentment, let go of what was. Embrace the path you are on now, for it is eternal as is your soul.” With a shattering sound the skull cracked fizzling out the ritual and leaving Salt cursing. Well time to move Salt told himself but as picking up the new gong to smash it Salt felt the smallest residue of holy not from the gong but the stick, he had picked up to bang it with. Salt put the stick in his shawl and filed it away for later, for now he set fire to all that was left and levitated out the room. Setting his hasty warding to destabilise violently and spectacularly in an hour after he left for good measure.
On the way back to the third hide Salt realised something, he was fighting like Soil, quick strikes from distance using conjured weapons. He had sacrificed so much for the new abilities with evocation, and he had not cast a single spell in that school. This was his time to go up against mages toe to toe like he had never fought, it's not a smart way to fight. But it's how you fight if you're ambushed, if he did not learn from this opportunity now, he might die in the next ambush he blundered into. The question running through Salts head was; how do you plan to fight without a plan telling you when the plan is over, and you need to improvise again?
Lavoisier der Copferlasange was having the day of hell, spurned by the hirelings and cursed at for taking some small refreshments. It would not be so bad if the same louts were not yelling, can a man of culture not indulge for a moment, and denying him healing.... vulgar just vulgar. The two remaining mages took some of the men and went on to the camp of those blackguards' white screamers of something's camp. Luxuriating in the blessed silence for an hour between those creepy silences of 8 and 9 he was ripped from his sainted sleep by sudden screaming and booms.
Attacking during the 9th silence was just normal thought Salt but seeing the chaos as he flung some spell models of lightning at the back as his servants struck from the front, he felt unsure. Gathering some chain lightning and throwing it at a clump of archers to his left, this seemed too easy. Like a ruse, like an ambush, voiding flames like an overcharged flash spell blinding anyone looking, Salt readied himself. And readied himself...... and readied himself. Seeing through the eyes of his servants and not seeing much, Salt started ordering the servants to use the life drain scrolls. Maybe the extra vitality will come in handy Salt thought, his thirty servants saturated the field of battle. Where there not mages here said Salt to himself, where these not professional-coloured hunters?
Wait what was that? Somone killed one of his servants and with a potent magic sword no less. Let's see what the servants see. “I am Lavoisier der Copferlasange come out and fight me fell necromancer. I will Show you the valour of a Copferlasange, have at thee.” Seeing a fop with a nice sword Salt ruminated a little before sending two servants with two different scrolls into the room from different sides. Controlling the one from the front he made it say, “I am Teralax lord of midnight give me your name champion of light that I might spit on it.” Going beet red in the face the man flourished/flailed his sword through the air and screamed “I am Lavoisier der Copferlasange........” Getting the voice and name down on a scroll of recording the servant in front said “cheese” adding a detailed etching of his face with the voice. And the servant from the back cast first sleep on him and after taking all his things of cast stasis.
Quickly etching some ritual runes down as his servants begun gathering and sorting everything into mounds of stuff, corpses and Lavoisier. Salt intoned “hear me Aracaroges devil barrister(lawyer) of the court of true justice as I have a business deal you might like. I understand if you are otherwise engaged, and I know this is rude of me to so wilfully insist upon your time and on such short notice. I shall leave the ritual open for 343 seconds and if you find within yourself an inclination to be so magnanimous, I do hope you can join me.” Sending servants to find a table two chairs and boil some water, Salt detached his tome of scrolls from his staff and started laying down investigation and identify spells on his more interesting looking new acquisitions.
Finding some runes and bindings he had never worked with before Salt got a little lost looking and did not spring to until he heard a “hum, hum.” behind him. Turning around Salt got a bit of a start as Aracaroges seemed to have gone through a metamorphosis, instead of the 86 cm red devil. Their stood a respectable 199cm silver and red devil, of course in a suit, tie and glasses. “My dear wizardling” began Aracaroges “I am afraid this ritual is a bit wrong for you see I now work for the court of absolute justice.” Salt ever ready for the weird devil said, “I shall note it down, but first, Tea?” As luck would have it one of his servants was soon here with the boiling water and Salt conjuring two mugs reached into his shawl and sprinkled some blue flakes over the water.
Sitting down at the table and soon joined by Aracaroges Salt questioned “I hope you enjoyed your advancement and that your name and nature remined the same?” Having a taste of the tea Aracaroges replied “good tea! Silverite family?” Salt nodded “I was able to grow a very minimal amount of it, but we are celebrating your advancement today.” Aracaroges smiled and said “yes I have been able to keep my name, and most of my nature” frowning Aracaroges continued “a bit more of the merchant job has unfortunately flown into me. We mana phage's, we don’t have it as easy as you in that regard.”
“So, the Fop, the stuff and the vitality-scrolls in exchange for the chambering of one soul, 55 pages of un-aspected tome weave and 10kg demonic brass.” Checking over the contract hammered out over the course of an hour, Salt was going to agree but “I am going to need you to put in a proviso. I need the fop not to know I captured him; I used the name Teralax lord of midnight if that helps.” Frowning and squinting at the contract Aracaroges features settled in a frown as he answered. “If you went the reseller to mention Teralax lord of midnight by name if he sells the fop you are going to lose 5kg demonic brass. Is that acceptable?” Standing up and shaking the devils hand Salt said, “yes, this concludes contract 135 and I hope to see you again at contract 134.” letting his arm fall to the side Aracaroges said “good luck I can only see this ending one of two ways, with you totally fine or with you crushed beneath the stupidity of others.” smiling as he turned Salt said “I hope for the later, but plan for the former.”