Despite a day full of strenuous walking, the sight of possible shelter filled Nick with a renewed vigor. Half jogging, half limping Nick made his way toward the cave and hopefully toward a nap. Despite there being few trees, the short walk was still difficult. The shrubbery was thick where the trees weren’t and the grasses were thicker where the shrubbery wasn’t. The plant life, it seemed, was determined to slow his progress towards rest. Nick, however, continued undeterred and soon his persistence was rewarded. As he made the walk, he could hear far more life in this valley than he had in the forest, strangely enough. Every now and again, grass near him would rustle violently as some small critter fled his coming. Eventually, he found himself at the mouth of the cave, with clothes covered in plant bits and uncovered limbs covered in scratches. He’d probably curse himself later for not being more careful of thorns; already the minor wounds were starting to itch unpleasantly. He stepped inside the shadowy cave, the temperature noticeably lower than that outside. Thankfully, the sun could reach inside the cave, at least partly, so there was enough light to see by. If Nick wanted to stay here he’d likely have to figure out how to make a fire. The cave seemed to be just a cave. The floor was dusty with dirt that must have blown in from the outside. Various rocks lay strewn about decorating the cave floor. As Nick scanned the cave a pile of rocks caught his attention. There, in the back of the cave, just where the light from the sun started to fail, was a pile of rocks that seemed far too intentional.
In his previous world Nick was a trained archaeologist, or at least he liked to claim to be one. He had only recently graduated and given the economy and frankly abysmal job growth for the career, he had unfortunately little actual field experience, beyond a few digs he had managed to earn a spot on. Still between that and his studies, he knew enough to recognize a cairn. Besides, it wasn’t likely the wind blew the rocks on top of each other, given how deep into the cave it was. He walked closer, and realized that, for whatever reason, the ground became softer under his feet the farther into the cave he got, until a couple feet away from the cairn where the ground under his feet was no different than the soil outside the cave, albeit with less plant life. Neil inched closer, to inspect the rock mound. This was the first proof of intelligent life he had found in this new world. Through his inspection he discovered that a large rock on the base very obviously had writing carved into it. It was not a language or an alphabet he was familiar with, with harsh lines and very few curves. It was like someone had taken a base of Norse Runes and mixed in some Sumerian cuneiform, with no rhyme or reason, at least none he could make out. He wondered if it was a grave marker, or maybe it marked a religious site and this was the name of the god or spirit worshipped. He stood there thinking about what it might say, until he remembered something.
He patted himself down. Where was the scroll? The scroll the text had promised him. Had he lost in the flight from the bear? Or maybe during his trek to find this place? A sudden weight manifested in his pockets, causing them to sag a little. God how he hoped this world had belts, or at least rope. He reached his hands in and found a pamphlet, covered in the same runes as the rock, and a cylinder no longer than his hand. It was as if thinking about them had summoned them. The tubular item looked like it was straight out of a tabletop rpg, though so did the pamphlet. What had the warning about it been? Be in a safe place before you use the scroll? Well this was arguably the safest place Nick had been since he was transported here, however long ago that had been. Between the head trauma and intense stress muted as it was, everything was honestly kind of a blur.
Nick unfurled the scroll, slowly. It was covered in script as well, but this script was very different from that on the rock and the pamphlet. It curled and moved in on itself in some spots, and seemed to come from the depths of the thick parchment in others. The strange swirling patterns were actually moving. As he stared at them, they began glowing a bright blue and not a second later lifted off the page and gathered in the air in front of him, swirling the entire time. It would have been a beautiful and entrancing sight, if they hadn’t almost immediately after gathering, shot towards his eyes and into his skull. The shock of it and the searing pain that ripped through his brain caught Nick off guard and he dropped the scroll screamed, far louder and more shrill than he would ever admit in public. After what seemed like an eternity, Nick was left panting from the now-gone pain, hands on his knees, feeling no different except for another traumatic memory to add to the list. The powers-that-be could mute his emotions and rip him through dimensional membranes, but they couldn’t have made that slightly less painful than a lobotomy without anesthesia? That seemed like bullshit, if he was being honest.
If that scroll hadn’t worked, if he had gone through that for nothing, he was going to be pissed. He looked back at the text on the cairn and his worst fears were realized. The text remained the same unintelligible scribbles. He cursed aloud and kicked idly at the cairn. Just before his foot could actually collide with the stones, there was a flash of light and a pop, and suddenly he was flying through the air, before landing on the thankfully soft-ish floor of the cave. Despite the soil-like quality of the floor, the landing knocked the breath out of Nick, having fallen from a standing position. He lay there for a moment, cursing his stupidity and wondering why he would even kick it in the first place. It wasn’t like him. He was an archaeologist, and that was the one of the only things he’d accomplished in his life that he was actually proud of. Intentionally destroying any artifact or structure? That was a cardinal sin. Slowly, with his back aching from his fall and embarrassment filling him despite there being no witnesses, Nick pulled himself to his feet. He cautiously approached the cairn again, noting that whatever magic had put him on his ass didn’t seem to reactivate at his approach. Maybe it only responded to direct aggression.
As he got closer and could see the script clearly, he realized something. He still had no knowledge of the text, of its syntax or vocabulary or word structure, but somehow he could understand, perfectly, what it said. Here lies Mage Llinyn, dead not by his cowardice but by their fear. A good teacher, but a better man. “Knowledge, Will, Purpose.” So a grave then. That answered his earlier question. Those last three words seemed different somehow, like they almost had a greater significance than the rest, a creed maybe.
“Knowledge, Will, Purpose.” Nick muttered. As he finished the last word, the stones shifted. The top began falling away, rocks moving under their own power, sliding away from the top. Startled, Nick backed up a step. He was getting very tired of magic catching him off guard, and he had the ominous feeling that it was likely not going to stop any time soon. Within seconds, the cairn was almost a foot shorter, but it had revealed something. A leatherbound book held by skeletal hands. The hands shouldn’t have been able to support the book at all, as heavy as it looked, but, Nick supposed, there was obviously magic at play. Nick stepped towards the book, and gingerly took it out of the hands. Normally, he wasn’t one for graverobbing, but the hands were obviously positioned in a way where the book was being offered. As his hands came in contact with it, the book and his hands flared for a moment with blue light.
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Quest Objective Complete!
Grimoire Found!
By chance or by fate you have stumbled across a grimoire! These incredibly useful books, the making of which has been lost to history and legend, keep track of your growth, magically speaking, the wefts and weaves you have mastered, as well as any system quest objectives you might have. Beyond this they also serve as handy journals, though you have to do that part manually. Having had this grimoire bequeathed to you by a very distant and indirect ancestor, some of the knowledge, both mystical and mundane, gathered by Mage Llynin is available to you, though you will have to learn and incorporate it on your own to make use of it.
Quest Objective Reward!
For completing this objective, you have been gifted an intrinsic knowledge of components of the spellform Force Bolt!
Congratulations! You have discovered the weave of: Force (Minor)!
The weave of force is one of the most basic weaves. In fact, for many mages it is the first one they ever learn. Both the ease with which it can be learned and its utility make it almost invaluable.
Congratulations! You have discovered the weft of: Bolt (Weak)!
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
This is the most basic ranged weft. It’s accuracy diminishes swiftly the longer it travels and it has to be aimed manually.
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Huh. That was strange; Nick half expected there to be another...
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Congratulations, Novice! You have unlocked the archetype of Telekinetic!
Because you have discovered rudimentary skills involved with the manipulation of force, you are being offered the illustrious position of Telekinetic! You should accept this position quickly! It allows you a significant mana reduction cost to spells involving any force weave and any externally and target focused weft. It also comes with a significant bonus to skill growth and understanding of related wefts and weaves. Nothing could be better for your continued survival in this mysterious land.
Do you accept the archetype of Telekinetic? *This choice is irreversible*
Yes/No
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And there it was. Whatever was sending him these messages seemed to be intent on having him choose an archetype. Now that he wasn’t under relatively immediate duress, he took the time to weigh the pros and cons of the offer. On one hand, he really couldn’t think of a more versatile superpower than telekinesis. It would always be useful. On the other, he always hated making decisions without complete information. He had already decided to reject the first offer and he didn’t like being threatened, even if it was in an incredibly vague way by a floating box of text. He rejected the second offer.
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Beware Novice.
You have rejected the second archetype offered to you. These opportunities are limited and each rejected opportunity reduces your chances of survival significantly. You have 2/4 opportunities remaining. Think before you reject the next offer that comes your way.
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Honestly, Nick thought, how on earth did whoever was writing these threats expect them to be effective? No concrete consequences besides limited chances of survival? He had been chased by a bear through the woods and had been trekking through unfamiliar territory with little sign of civilization near. His chances of survival were already pretty limited. With all the crazy shit that was happening to him, he was frankly unconcerned with what would happen if he just rejected all the archetypes, since they seemed to be rather arbitrarily based on whatever “wefts” or “weaves” he learned, whatever those were. That said nothing for their actual usefulness. He was fairly certain he was making the right decision rejecting them, but couldn’t deny a hint of worry. Hopefully, he wasn’t pushing himself into a dead end.
Nick looked at the book he was holding. Made out of a dark brown leather, the book looked pristine and completely unlike it had been buried under rocks for who knows how long. The metal clasp holding the book shut shined like it had been polished only minutes before NIck picked it up. It was a very beautiful book, to say the least. Nick ran his thumb over the intricate silverwork, shaped into a delicate looking sun that served as the clasp. It felt... warm to the touch, like it had been sitting out in the sun for a while. For a moment, he imagined he felt a pulse. Gently pushing on the sun, Nick undid the clasp and opened the grimoire. He was greeted with pristine white pages. It made no sense. Surely the person who owned this before him, Mage Llynin, had used this grimoire? He flipped through the pages, all as blank as the ones before them. Bemused he turned back to the first page and stared at it. What was the purpose of a blank grimoire? The floating text had implied it was a record of some sort. Did he have to write things down himself? Even as he thought that question, ink slowly began bleeding out of the page in front of him, resolving itself into words.
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Mana (5/5)
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Weaves
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- Restoration - Organic (General)!
This weave allows for the general restoration of nearly any organic structure. Be warned, it is highly ineffective and heavily Mana intensive due to its lack of a specialized nature. It's impressive that you at all manage to heal with it, though it was easier due to both strong desire and a clear picture of a previous state.
- Force (Minor)!
The weave of force is one of the most basic weaves. In fact, for many mages it is the first one they ever learn. Both the ease with which it can be learned and its utility make it almost invaluable.
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Wefts
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- Self - Internal (General)!
This weft allows for weaves to be directed internally. Be warned, it is highly ineffective and heavily Mana intensive due to its lack of a specialized nature. It's impressive you managed to target an injury, though it was easier due to both strong desire and a clear picture of intent.
- Bolt (Weak)!
This is the most basic ranged weft. It’s accuracy diminishes swiftly the longer it travels and it has to be aimed manually.
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Bound Spellforms
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- N/A
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Quests
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An otherworldly power has taken an interest in you. Actually multiple otherworldly powers have and this one is just a tad nicer than the others. This one knows what it’s like to be stranded in a strange dimension with naught but the clothes on your back and a scroll to learn the local language. They also know that if you don’t get your shit together pretty soon, you won’t live long enough for knowing the local language to matter. So they have some tasks for you!
Find Shelter - This is pretty up there. You’re in a forest with at least some very angry creatures. Having a place to safely close your eyes is a must. After all, only jackasses fall asleep in the middle of the forest. Update: A cave! Sleep in it without getting mauled for it to count.
Find Food - The rumbly tummies make it hard to concentrate. Find something to eat. Here’s a hint, if you don’t like going the way of the settlers on Oregon Trail and shitting yourself to death avoid the orange berries. Most of the others should be safe. I think. Update: Fishing the fishes. Do it.
Figure Out Magic - This is the only one you’ve made progress on. You’ve got better luck than some leprechauns I’ve met, stumbling across healing magic the way you did. Although you were just dumped in a strange world so maybe not. Figure out how to use magic reliably. It’ll pretty much be the only way you can survive. Update: Hey Hey. Force Bolt. An oldie but a goodie.
Find a Grimoire - It's super useful! I can't believe I forgot it.
Rewards: Not Dying! That’s a pretty good one, right? If you do well enough maybe there will be something else.
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The first entry was what caught Nick’s eye. Mana 5/5. Mana. Magic. The words kept talking about magic, it was even there in the quest listing. So far Nick had seen very little proof of it besides a very short lived headache. The words, the grimoire, the language scroll, even being put on his ass by the cairn could be explained by a multitude of things. Augmented reality technology was getting huge recently and this seemed right up its alley. There was nothing so far that he had experienced that he couldn’t come up with an explanation more plausible than magic and his intrinsically skeptical nature kept screaming at him that magic wasn’t possible. Oh but how did he wish it was. How many nights had he stayed up as a kid, wishing magic was real? Ever since he could read the many, many fantasy novels that filled his shelves back home he had craved magic. Now he was in an unknown place with not only floating words telling him it was possible but a pamphlet that promised to teach him and a book to track his progress. It seemed far too good to be true. Promises like that always set Nick on edge.
The shelter of the cave and the peace of the valley outside helped put Nick at peace somewhat, but this whole thing felt like a bizarre fever dream. His lack of intense emotions was unsettling. The idea of something messing with his feelings was horrific intrinsically to him, and now that same thing or at least something related to it, was essentially saying it could fulfill an impossible childhood dream. Nick had never felt more lost or confused in his entire life. Right now he felt more isolated and alone than he ever had in his life, and even those feelings were muted, which frustrated him to no end. There was a worrying thought. What if whatever was blocking his emotions didn’t fade. Would he ever return to normal? The thought haunted him, but he supposed it was a worry for another time. Right now he had other concerns. He needed to learn how to do magic, or least see if it was even possible.
Nick walked over to the wall of the cave in a spot where the sunlight was reaching and lowered himself to the floor to get into a comfortable reading position. He set the grimoire down on the ground beside him. He turned the pamphlet over in his hands. It was fairly plain, although now he could make out that the cover read “Mana Manipulation and You: An Idiot’s Guide to Learning Basic Magics.” Nick opened to the first page of the pamphlet and began to read
“Magic. Gaining mastery over the most basic and yet infinitely complex force of creation. If you survived long enough to read this pamphlet, there is a solid chance you accessed magic in some form or another. Perhaps you even claim a coveted archetype! If this is the case, you should be congratulated! You have taken the first steps on the road to becoming a Master Magician. That said, intentional casting is a much different beast than instinctual casting and it begins with mana manipulation, control over the resource that is now and will forevermore be the lifeblood of your craft. Mana manipulation, at its core, is primarily an exercise in patience and mental dexterity. To begin, the aspiring sorcerer should attempt to search out...”
He likely read more than that but the fog of sleep that crept up on him overtook him and made anything else he read unintelligible. Before he realized it, he was deeply asleep.