Corvayne drew his spear as he stepped through the shadowy door and came back to his senses. He was in a library chamber, but one so vast it wouldn't fit under Ko-Ban. The stone floor and book-shelf lined walls had weird dark cracks in places, a sort of jarring emptiness against the pale blue colors inside the space. Following the shelves until they lost detail, Corvayne guessed the ceiling was at least a thousand feet above him. He wasn't sure he saw it: blue fire torches, bridges, and walkways complicated his view. Corvayne made his way around the cracks in the floor as well as piles of books as tall as his head, curled out like dunes of sand. He startled as a book drifted down and landed near him, the pile letting it settle to a certain spot.
He rounded a tall bend of books and saw the center of the chamber where the piles spiraled to a large figure sitting in a central clearing on a worn cushion. It had a mask on just like The Magus's, but wore blue robes and had four midnight blue skinned arms, three waving around and clearly guiding books from the shelves to the piles, then from the piles further away to closer ones, and some from piles nearby back to the shelf. Looking at the way the figure moved, it's long violet hair, and the shape the short sleeved robes hinted at, he felt it was a 'she'. Her fourth arm was holding a book she was reading, using a super long and agile thumb to flip pages. Little streaks of pink on her arm were either highlights against the blue or scars.
He took this all in wondering if she would attack once she saw him, but without looking up the figure gestured him to come. He was debating if he should do so when the figure spoke.
“Nameless one... Come closer. It's hard to hear you from afar.” Her voice had a sort of forced gravitas that instantly reminded him of The Magus's act, done better.
Corvayne stepped closer, fairly confident from the moving books and blue fire light everywhere that, given the connection, this woman was some sort of wizard, perhaps one of the ones The Magus had asked him to dispose of.
“My name is Corvayne.” He spoke as he stopped within the circle of clear books.
The woman laughed and gently took one of her magic using hands and plucked a bookmark from the air, slipped it into her current tome, then closed it and with a little hop scooted on her pillow to face him. Given the three eyed mask and her size, he thought she looked like the dead figure outside the door. If she stood she'd tower over him.
She set the book down next to her and waved a hand. “I reject the false names here. But you may call me... BOOK-BINDER WORD-TASTER, FINDER-SEEKER. Or whatever idea you conjure up that pleases you to name me.”
“Okay. Where's Wick?” He asked, looking about.
The figure waved a hand. “I assume you mean the wizard you are with.”
Corvayne stiffened a little. “Well... I don't know about wizard but yes, the woman I was with before the lights went out.”
“She is fine. This space is a modified mind-space that's merged with the poorly sealed Dungeon. Time does not pass in here. I called you in because you bear the marks of someone who's been manipulated by my kind.”
“Your kind... Are you with The Magus?”
The figure looked at him with three softly glowing blue eyes visible against the darkness behind holes in her mask, then shook her head. “Not in the sense we are allies. In fact, I seek to stop the petulant child. Forgive me, I have to remember to ask when I touch your mind. Are you comfortable with your surface thoughts being skimmed? I follow good neighbor rules.”
He did not find it shocking that a creature with too many arms could read minds. He thought about it. On one hand, this one had asked rather than pinning him down to suck his brain dry. On the other hand, it was still creepy. “Uh, I'd prefer you not look inside my head, Ms. Taster.”
The figure averted her gaze to the side, her voice wavering. “I am sorry! Skimming is visual memory only. I require direct eye contact, and I have to prompt the subject so you think of it. Good neighbor rules means I only fish for details that aid in communication. From my poor conduct, not to mention bothering you on your excursion, I have once more had a breach of manners. Can you forgive me?” She asked while she looked sideways at him, all three glowing blue eyes fluttering under the mask.
Corvayne thought about it. “Under the assumption I'll be reunited with my companion soon, I forgive you for any skimming before you asked.”
“Hmf! Polite. Not like the ones before. Rude remarks, tried to peek under my robes, took all the cookies I offered, and left beer cans here. They even stole books! I did not think it was possible to bring pollution to my mindscape...”
Corvayne saw the cans she indicated and shrugged and walked over and placed them in his storage ring. Or tried to, they seemed to vanish as his hand neared them with the intent to clean them up. Odd.
“So... you called him a Petulant child...” Corvayne said as he finished grabbing at the cans left behind in the first ring. Looking back at 'BOOK-BINDER' he got the sense she was, happy? She was wiggling where she sat, two of her hands locked and swaying a little. Then she took a breath and went rigid, returning to her gravitas, 'fairy queen who knows everything' voice.
“The Magus was taken to this universe as babe. His degenerate personality now is due to not having limits until it was too late. Too much power at an age far too young meant there was no-one to guide him. Part of my goal here is trying to determine how this universe pulled him in still. I figured you might have a hint, given your own situation?”
Corvayne shook his head. “I don't know how I got to Cascadia. Sorry. So the books in these piles are about him?”
Three of her arms gestured around her. “The Dungeons pulls things from all sorts of places, or makes them. This spot one can sit and fish for any book made, if you're patient. Every week the shelves shuffle and billions of new books appear, pulled from anywhere due to the cracks under Cascadia. But these books are second hand and often flawed in small ways, perhaps they are based on people's memories of reading them, or just the things I seek are mired in Chaos. Repetition weeds out some of the details.”
“I appreciate uh, the information but I'm still not sure why I'm here. I guess they stole a book about summoning from you?”
She tilted her mask in a nod. “A poorly written tome, not one I'd give to someone who I wanted to succeed.”
There was a hint of amusement in her tone which made Corvayne wonder if it was an accident they left with a book that resulted in a great deal of their deaths. He looked around. “If I'm stuck here, would you mind making a place for me to sit?”
Book-Binder waved her hands while saying, “Oh no no! You're not stuck here, I didn't mean.... oh, I was rude again. I wanted to possibly trade information, and you have the mark of Curses about you. I have terrible manners, would you care for refreshments? A cookie?”
She made a gesture and a soft looking pillow as well as tray appeared in her hands. The tray was loaded up with cookies and smelled fantastic, so Corvayne shrugged and tried one. As he tasted warm chocolate chips, he felt his mind expand.
[Cooking effect: Clarified Assessment][Curse integrity at 87.0%] [Loop integrity: 4%][You are suffering from System Blocking effects.][Power cap 2*/6][Power level cap 3*/62][Curses Cleared: Mindless, Night Blind, Curse of Atlas][Bloodline abilities: Blocked][Racial/Civilzation abilities: Blocked][Experience point malus: Extreme ++++][Invader status: (((((Overridden per Admin)))))][Immune to Banishment (((((per Admin)))))]
Corvayne looked down at the tray as Book-Binder pulled it back. The painted on mouth-line on the mask faintly smiled as she spoke. “It's easier to show you than tell you, isn't it?”
Corvanye sat down on his pillow and tried to sort out what he was seeing. The cookies gave him a cooking effect. Some of the things he had thought he saw suddenly made sense. The percentage that ticked down had to do with curses. Probably it dropping was a good thing. Loop integrity was low, likely tied to the [4 left] message he recalled when he had died. Why hadn't he noticed or been upset by any of this? Oh, system blocking effects. Some of his curses were clearly laid out, good, but he didn't get what the 'Power cap' number meant because he had 3 powers. Unless that's what power level cap meant, and the first number was something else? His conversations with Seru made the experience point 'malus' not make sense to him either. It must not matter much, because he was the highest level person they'd seen aside from Argyle who had likely been higher level than them. Admin of what? He wasn't sure why he had those messages.
He scratched his head as those thoughts faded. “I have no clue what it all means. I mean, what did you pull me in here for?”
The woman nodded and folded her hands. “I wanted you to see that you're cursed, and that you have some odd statuses. The most important one is, somehow, you are not an invader while also not a native. Usually a native would start corrupting into floor, books, or air just from being here. That's why I picked you, as for what...” She looked down a moment, took a breath, then looked up at Corvayne. “I... I want you to kill The Magus.”
Corvayne put his hands up. “I'm not an assassin, and if I was I'd guess my odds against him are poor. On top of the basic problem being I have no place judging if he lives or dies. I don't want to fight...” Corvayne slumped his shoulders as he thought about that. “I'm good at fighting, but I want to just live my life. Does what I'm saying make sense?”
Book-Binder made a placating motion. “I understand, but he has been ripping holes in the universe with his summoning experiments, ignoring everything else he does that causes misery and death. If you personally cannot or will not, then someone else needs to end him. Holes in the universe like this will eventually corrupt everything. Matter, space, energy... It will destroy everything BUT you and a handful of folks from other universes. That's part of why I've been trying to figure out what books he was using. If you cannot kill him, raiding his library and returning his books he's using magic from would put me in your debt, and might help me solve the problem.”
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“Back up. The universe is going to end, and it... won't kill me?”
She nodded. “That's why I'm trading information with you... I suspect you are a pawn of the third universe, but you have something that doesn't make you eldritch to this space. Assuming the merge doesn't convert the place you're standing on into the surface of a star. I tried to negotiate with the Bone Dawgz too since they have some oddities that made the less susceptible to this space, but they just stole that bad tome on summoning and ran off leaving garbage behind. I was shocked that people could be so against rules they actually leave rubbish behind in a mindscape! Perhaps it's because they are not fully invaders. You ever read umm... the racist one from Mud who named his cat something deplorable? With the fish wife, and cultists, and a lazy Yxgnox who slept under the ocean and pretended to be a god?”
“Lovecraft? The librarian liked him but I couldn't get into it.” Corvayne found the stories dreary and depressing.
“Yes! The gang members are a little like that to me, and me to them. My reality is bleeding through here, and in turn they brought in eldritch corruption except instead of tacky four-D décor or wallpaper that looks like flesh and spines and screaming faces, they instead left cigarette butts and beer cans.”
“Okay, well, can I think about what we've talked about?”
She nodded and he took a break. So she had tried and failed to get the Bone Dogs in on her plan. Amusing that the gang was so exemplified by urban decay and leaving trash around that that's what they 'tracked' in.
Not one to be rude to a being who had been polite to him, Corvayne stood up and started picking up cigarettes left around the nearby stacks, as well as other pieces of trash which vanished at his touch. He wasn't sure he trusted this creature, but the effect of the cookies felt like it had for a moment pushed back some of the fog his thoughts took on. If he was going to deal with this figure, then his interest was how to get enough power to be eligible for Wick. The main path he saw was going back to The Watchers. If not where, then how to go about finding them. More importantly, he needed to know why he was hated, and how to fix it.
“I did a little house keeping, so if you could please help me with some questions I'd appreciate it Miss. Book-Binder.”
“So POLITE! Oh, I bet the ladies love you. You... yes I can point you in the right direction. And, if you want to trade more favors... would it be to much to ask you to find me a particular tome I'm looking for, The 10,000 Paths by Falenti? That and finding someone who doesn't mind helping me find the types of books I'm looking for, thought they'd have to have some sort of anchor or being in here three minutes would kill them. Ah, but I also owe you for cleaning!”
Corvayne sat down. “The cleaning is no trouble, you've given me confirmation that I'm under a curse. With your other requests, I will keep them in mind, I don't want to make promises about anything because I'm already overloaded... I need to ask you, you really think I'm the person to ask to... that I'm some sort of chosen one who's the only person you can talk to?”
The figure nodded. “Not the only chosen one, so we'll say you're a candidate. You remind me of the girl.”
He turned to look at the double doors out, then back at Book-Binder. “Did Wick come here once?”
“The Vessel-Wizard wouldn't be very comfortable if she came in here. No, I mean the one with starry eyes....”
She stopped and stood, pointing. “Wait, you!! Ah! How?! She asked me to help you!” Book binder started pacing. “Oh my goodness, It was so long ago but she told me about you, that you were her-”
Corvayne felt something inside him snap and dark vines hatched out of him, his shadow hands manifesting under his skin and straining to stop the vines, pain lancing through the phantom limbs. In a moment the vines started to burst from him, shredding his arms, his legs. Corvayne fell to the ground as his sides started to bleed, jagged spikes ripping him as they burst out wiggling from between his ribs.
“Please! Stop!” Corvayne cried out as he tried to stop the thrashing, the thorns ripping his hands up.
He heard panic in Book-Binder's voice. “I did no such thing! Oh no, no no no, oh! Wait, I see! So Sorry! I'll fix it.”
The pain vanished as she reached out and pulled something from him, dulling his mind a little and causing the spiked vines to wither. “Sorry little Nameless one... the cookies on top of the starry-eyed girl... it was too much for all the damage you have. I'm careless, please forgive me!”
He looked down and saw the wounds start to slowly fade, though he felt a little cloudy headed as he stood. He could remember the conversation and that the cookies had given him hints to something. He clenched his nails into his hands. He was cursed. There was something about a starry-eyed girl that triggered them. He could practice with his spear or go jogging for hours but it was frustrating that these conversations where he could start getting, something, anything to work on slipped from him.
Book-Binder perhaps misunderstood why he was angry. “It's annoying, but I can't bring my talents fully to bear. Well, not yet. For us to talk more, you need to recover your shattered memories and undo your curses. The Magus put more than a few on you. Not smart at all, but perhaps I'll say he's cunning, like, um, a really dumb tiger good at sneaking around eating villagers, right up until he tries to eat someone inside of a tank. Cunning is why he killed the Pilgrims, burned their cities down. Tried to bury their system too, it's terrible what he did.”
The figure was silent as Corvayne took deep breaths to steady his now throbbing everything-ache. Then the masked figure spoke again. “I want to look into your mind. If you say no, I will still try to help you, but I need more context on what's going on.”
Corvayne stepped back from her a little, nearly stumbling pile of books. “I don't know what I even need help with...”
“Stop. Clear everything away but your true goal.”
Corvayne heard and felt himself struggling as he stripped away all his other goals. “I just... want to be with Wick.”
“How odd... Wick... the name tastes weird, I wonder if she-” The figure looked past him at the door, then placed two of it's hands over the mouth on it's mask as the lines shifted to a frown. “Oh no. No no no. What has she done? Oh that poor lost soul. No wonder. I thought the name was too much a coincidence.”
Book-Binder sighed then, and reached out and put one of her hands on his shoulder. It was surprisingly warm. “Nameless child. I can tell, you were not the one meant for this task. But you are one who may succeed anyway. It seems you cannot jump ahead, those black thorns are strong and threaded deeply into you. Should you shred too many too fast, you will be torn apart, a lost soul like his bride out there, or turned into the mindless adherents of The Magus like those gang members who made their own masks.”
Corvayne blinked. “That's not you we found? Oh sorry, I sort of assumed something rude Ms.Books; I thought that was your body out there and you were a ghost.”
She laughed at that. “No, look carefully. That woman is a crude attempt to copy my form. The Magus had a harem of brides. His indifference to them drove them mad to find new ways to please him. If you find those poor souls, I suggest you send any still alive to oblivion. Ahem. No. I'm not in your universe at all. If not for The Magus's blundering, I'd be ejected. This space is the only place I can breach, and even then it's because this city is a mess. I was worried when the gang showed up and could come in that I'd only get mad men tainted by The Magus. Or universe raiders.”
Corvayne nodded. It made sense now that the three-eyed masks meant something. “Well, I'm glad to give you company. What were you saying about those thorns ripping my soul apart?”
“You need to strengthen your soul... let it heal when it hurts. Essence never hurts, or perhaps meditation if you're a CAVE-SITTER-STRONGER.”
“Cultivator?” Corvayne offered.
Four fingers snapped at once. “I like my word better but yes!” She motioned with a free hand and pulled out a little blue ribbon award and stuck it to his chain mail shirt. “Nameless one...”
“Ms. Books you can call me Corvayne.”
“That name is very...” Corvayne must have been glaring at her because the figure waved her hand. “Well, Nameless, you have quite a lot of work ahead of you don't you.” She muttered, then coughed into her hand. “I could try to true name you...”
Corvayne felt the the thorns thicken under his skin, pointed at her. He shook his head. “Don't! No, No, Nameless, or Nameless One is fine.”
The woman nodded. “If you don't wish for me to pull from your mind, can you tell me your story?”
He gave a summary of the events, both his rough life at the village and what happened as he came to the city. He suspected she was picking up details from his mind as he spoke, because even with what he felt were a lot of glazed over details, the only interruption she made was, “Why in the six hells would anyone put pine needles on their food?”
He finished with a quick summary of the dungeon having a different Cascadia and how that had lead Wick to want to look at this library to find where the magic the Bone Dogs used came from, suspecting a book.
“Good good. That explains much. So, what is your quest right now?”
“Uh, my quest is to find my way home and become their ruler so I can marry Wick.”
All four arms slid up over her mask and she sighed, then she snapped her fingers and a little crown appeared. “Oh my. Well... let's do this properly. Ahem. You, Nameless one, have been chosen.”
Her words had weight. He felt them sticking to him.
“Perhaps by fate. Perhaps by your own hidden desires. Perhaps by dumb luck, given what I suspect you are. I charge you with these tasks. Discover the legacy of the Pilgrims, travel their road. Restore your memories, that your truth becomes clear. Return to your home, and find the starry-eyed girl. You, The Nameless, the invader turned protector... may you find the love you deserve.”
She did something, and a thorn shot out without harming Corvayne while shredding it's way up her arm. She started bleeding neon blood but did not waver.
“I pay the price, under the pact that you become The Magus's judge. Learn his crimes, and help him find redemption, or end him.” Her head dropped a little, and Corvayne felt himself aware of things he had been ignoring or neglecting. He could start backtracking to his home via the place he arrived from the desert. There had been a disturbance behind him which was no doubt a portal. But he would do better with a guide, and his compass had hinted at where someone who would know the way home would be.
His thoughts refocused on Book-Binder as she clapped twice, and a bag with a credit sign appeared before her. “Since you are undertaking these tasks ostensibly at my request, I shall fairly aid you with your quest. I will grant you kingly sum of 50 credits... actually wait... if you gave it to someone this would probably kill them since it's made of my-matter not their-matter.”
She shrugged and tossed it behind her where it made a too-loud clatter, as did when she produced and discarded a gleaming crystal sword, another sword in a stone, a phoenix feather wand, a broom, tacky red shoes, and a normal looking leather whip all while whistling innocently. Was every person that wore the mask like this?
“Sorry... I'll have to do something else. Ah! I know... just don't let anyone who isn't you touch these books.” She clapped her hands and gestured, and from a far pile two tomes lifted and flew towards her.
She presented them to Corvayne. “Can I place them in my ring?”
She nodded. “Yes, storage items don't actually have items contact anything. That's why I'm giving them to you at all! But you may need to develop a chamber with no air to read them, as Cascadia's planar matter will either eat them, or vice vs and they'll slag a city block into melted bookstuff. It also likely would damage anyone who breathed hybridized air in by turning a bunch of the bronchial nodes into paper.”
Covayne froze.
“You live in a post industrial society, surely you can have someone make you something you stick your hands into that's nearly airless and clear so you can read in it?”
He nodded. A project for his wallet and Mosh. Looking at the books, he saw 'Summoning Fundamentals: Eons of Aeons, Animas, and Espers.' and 'Master of Arms, Master of Self.'
He put them in his storage ring. “So, given you're telling me to look into the Pilgrims, where should I start?”
Book-Binder gestured outwards. “To make it all the way to where you started, you must go backwards. Do not hurry, and do not fear. I see hurt, and pain, and suffering, but beyond that is hope. Protect and cherish your friends. Oh, and find the girl you think is named Sharp-Water.”
“That confirms it's my next step.”
Book-Binder nodded. “You fought her in a place north of here... You thought she was really her, right? If the dungeon is just playing a shadow memory as a challenge, it doesn't feel like it's real. So, she's on this world, or I'll eat another book!”
Corvayne nodded. “Okay. Whatever you did is helping me see this stuff too.”
“You need help focusing because of your afflictions. I loosened one, not entirely, but enough so you'll since by the time it comes back you'll have started doing those goals, lessening it's ability to block important things.” The figure nodded. “What a pain in the butt these curses are! I should be able to just send you on your way with a list of them and what to do to get rid of them all. I know it. I could tell you how to break every single one on you... can I say how many?”
Corvayne waited for his skin to erupt into spikes and then nodded. “I think so.”
“Thirteen of them! That little fool is going to regret it. So yes, they influence your thoughts. Which is why I am giving you that little shot that hurt me.” She tapped her bright pink bloody arm. “Doctor's orders! Go find your spear companion, maybe finally marry her-”
Spears? No. She had knives on her, even when she went swimming nude. Somehow. Also she was a slime. Who'd want to date, let alone marry a slime girl? “Never.”
“Fine, but find her. That's my first quest to you. Second, journey back to where you started, and seek your home. Third! The Pilgrims and their Pilgrimage. Tell your friends to help you, for I know it will slide from your mind. Bah, I'm writing this down.” She snapped her fingers and a note appeared. “Oh, store this in your things.”
“Fourth! Recover your memories. The tower finds and gives away lost things. If you seek them, you will find them. Fifth.... find the starry-eyed girl. All those will tie together, and will lift the clouds from your mind, and past, and soul. If you do those five things, then decide on my original plea, to kill The Magus, I will repay my debt to you until I am spent or you declare us equal. If it means finding the means to marry this Wick girl, so be it.”
He had one question for her. “I appreciate you think all these will help me, but you are an outside, so why me and him? Who is he to you?”
She shook her head. “It would confuse you if I told you... the curses! Growing is overcoming pain and conflict. Do difficult things, seek and explore peoples, places, experiences. Not just with a spear, child! You will find power in the very tools your enemy used on you.”
She had told him not to get distracted. “I ask you again. Who is The Magus?”
“He is a fool, and knows not what he's doing... Your time here draws to a close. Go! Oh, and if you find me that book or a helper who won't die, I'd be rude not to repay you with something of equal value...”
Corvayne saw it. A pleading look from the figure. One who he knew was stronger than him. Whatever her three-eyed expression was, the mask slipped to sorrow.
Corvayne held a hand up. “I don't make a demand. But I am trusting you and will do as you asked. Can you trust me?”
She put her hands over her mask. Her voice dropped to a croak. “I'm sorry. You have a gentle heart for a killer, and you would waiver when you need to be strong.”
Corvanye nodded. “All the more reason I want to know. Who is he?”
The figure looked up at him and sensed something, her weakness dripping away into bitter determination. She spoke four words then Corvayne felt himself being dragged or fling backwards, around and over stacks of books the fly out the door, the Book-Binder's chamber fading as the four words she said echoed in his head.
“He is my son.”