“Hey buddy. I have food,” I said in the softest, kindest tones I could muster, “My lady always said she got to my heart through my stomach, and you’re man’s best friend.” I used flesh sorcery and my very weak mental abilities to try and send comforting thoughts of safety and food and kindness to the animal. It stepped forward slowly, favoring its back legs. It looked like a pitbull mixed with a boxer, and then throw a little rottweiler in there too. I bet it would be a beautiful animal if it wasn’t so starved and beat up. “Come on then,” I whispered, “I got more food.” I popped another can of soup and set it next to the bowl. As the dog came closer, I nudged the bowl further away from me and closer to it. The mutt never took its eyes off of me while it ate, wolfing it down. I slowly reached over when it finished and the dog jumped back. I poured the second can of soup in the bowl and retracted my hand. “Hey now, I’m not gonna hurt ya, I promise,” I said, “Wouldn’t go through all the trouble of feeding you just to getcha.” It finished the second bowl faster than the first. I sat down indian style and put Gungnir on the ground and just watched the dog as it gave me the puppy eyes treatment.
The dog looked at me for a moment and then limped over and laid down in front of me. I slowly reached out and put my hand on its side. I looked down and checked, yup, that’s a male dog. “Hey, you got a name? Maybe a nice fancy collar from a rich family that loves ya?” I asked, slowly petting the dog, letting tendrils of my flesh magic slowly connect and start the healing process. I took my time, carefully putting in a pain block and healing the poor pup as I talked to him about nothing. I removed a couple nasty open cuts and the beginnings of an infection, then realigned the break that had halfway healed and fixed the surrounding tissue. I went from head to tail making sure that he was in tip-top shape. I lay back, exhausted and done for the day. My flesh sorcery showed me that he was an adolescent mutt and that I was probably right on the mixture of the breeds, and that he was probably around two years old. “I don’t have the energy for cool names right now,” I said, fighting the mental strain of a full day of working magic, “I dub thee Spot! Cause you got a big-ass spot of soup on that dirty face of yours.” I conjured a bit of water to wash out his bowl and then more to fill it up.
Picking myself up, I opened the hollow tree, Spot’s head shooting up off the ground. “You comin?” I asked. He looked at his water bowl and then proceeded to get up and lap it all down, then he sprang into the tree. I pulled Gungnir who then changed into a mace and began to glow, lighting our way. Ten minutes later, I was passed out on the floor of my river bottom home with a new friend.
A nasty wet tongue woke me up out of a dead sleep, which I pushed away with my hand and wiped my face off. “Gerroff”, I mumbled. A sharp bark finished waking me out of the dead sleep, “All right, alright,” I said, “I’m up.” Spot was prancing back and forth. Ah, morning time. I had a dog years ago, this is when they like to sniff and crap. I picked up Gungnir from where it was charging all night and took Spot outside. He sprinted around sniffing his new territory and doing his business. As he was doing his morning routine, I was doing mine, checking my armor. I let my magical senses flow over everything, making sure everything was still good to go, fully charged, and that the enchantments hadn’t degraded. As Spot wasn’t back yet, I pulled out my two pocket generators from where I kept them. I really needed to rework these. I’ve noticed that the bigger generators, due to their size and structure, are far more stable than these little ones. The power outflow at this size just overpowers the structural integrity of the enchantment causing it to degrade over time. I took one of them and strengthened the enchantment and made the overall stone base bigger so that it was a cylinder the size of a large water bottle. The power outflow was several times more as it directly coincided with the size of the generator. I then turn Gungnir into a spear and lay the Chaos crystal spear blade on top of it so that they were parallel. I sent the image of Gungnir enveloping or storing the generator to the spear and with a weird pop the modified generator vanished!
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I could still feel it though, pumping out mana which Gungnir happily stored away, and gave to me when I linked myself to it. FUCK YES. I honestly believe that I’m just going to have to bind this weapon to myself as it is just way too useful to let go. It can change forms, use my own sorcery and others that I can’t, and store my mana generators for me! Hell yes I’m pumped. It took about an hour to figure out how big of a generator Gungnir could hold. The one’s back at my river-bottom home were way too big; the biggest it could fit was about the size of a basket-ball, so I made that generator special. It was a granite sphere, as that is the most stable of all the shapes with a fairly low molecular bonding, and it had runes of stability and conversion along with the classic matter to mana formula. I filled everything in with as it holds enchantments the best and sent it into Gungnir. I then took my last pocket generator and wrapped it in black gold and shaped it to fit around my neck and a bit of my chest. Then I put two enchantments on its and directed the split the power flow to both. The first enchantment was only for boosting my natural healing regeneration and stamina upkeep, and the second was for healing at my direction. And then I put a conditional statement in the enchantments, that if they are damaged in any way, that they will just shut down completely. Last but not least, I cut open my hand and covered Gungnir in blood while I healed and conjured more inside of my body. With my blood covering it, I wove an enchantment of binding and joining between me and the weapon so that I could easily call it to me if it wasn’t within reach and so that I would always know where it was, a sort of ever-present compass in my mind.
“FINALLY DID SOMETHING SMART DID’YA!!!!”