Rain was already waiting for us by the time we reached the shallow hole that had appeared amidst the rubble. He beckoned us over.
“Were you able to identify the horn?” Rain asked.
“It’s a hunting horn of the northern orc clans, though I’m not sure which one.” Wind responded. “It came from about fifteen miles northwest of here.”
“Are you sure?” Rain asked with growing concern. “We should still be far south of their territory.”
“I’m sure.” Wind said. “I’ve dealt with the northern clans before.”
“Are they a threat?”
“If they claim these ruins as part of their territory, then they may see us as hostile. Although, I find that unlikely. The clans are wary of the Heartwood and will often go out of their way to avoid what they view as Celestial’s hunting grounds.” Wind responded. “The orc clans are varied, but ultimately reasonable. I believe they will talk first.”
“Fifteen miles. If they know we’re here, they could arrive within a few hours.” Rain said, glancing out over the expedition. “I do not wish for our group to be caught split in two. We should return to camp to discuss.”
**********
It was late afternoon by the time we returned to camp. Nervous whispers of orcs passed between us. The expedition gathered early for dinner. Mara banged on her pot to draw the group’s attention to draw us all to silence. Rain addressed the gathering.
“During our excavation of the ruins, two horns were heard.” Rain addressed the group. “Wind has informed me that these are hunting horns of the northern orc tribes. We gathered early today to dispel gossip and to inform you on how we will proceed. Wind, if you will.”
“The northern orc tribes are a nomadic people who live within the Dragonspine mountains and in the eastern fringes of the Heartwood.” Wind began. “They are amicable to trade on neutral ground, but often meet trespassers in their territory with hostility. I would add that their territory does not traditionally extend south of the Dragonspine Mountains.”
Rain continued. “I believe we’ll be able to meet them for an amicable discussion. We do, however, need more information on their numbers and intentions. To this end, Wind will be leaving at first light tomorrow to scout and observe this ‘hunting party’. Everyone else is to stay in camp until our concerns are addressed. We will run a double watch until Wind returns.”
**********
The next morning Wind set off alone just as I joined Autumn and the others at breakfast. Karl approached us as we ate with a canvas bundle in his arms.
“I’ve got something for you two.” The sanask said, setting the bundle down on the ground next to us. It gave a metallic clanging as whatever was inside banged together.
I opened the bundle to reveal four gleaming blue-silver daggers. Ten inches of relatively thin, tapered, double-edged blades emerged from a gently curving crossguard where a fuller ran from hilt to tip. Leather strips had been wound around the bases to create a solid grip.
I lifted one up with ginger fingers, recognizing the heft and sheen of the metal fixtures Autumn had pulled out of the wall the other day.
“Kar’ktar made these for us?” I asked in awe. “In one day? Doesn’t he have better things to prepare for?”
“Took him less than an hour to rework the set.” Karl rumbled. “ Kar’ktar says they’ll work fine until you can get your strength above forty or so.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Autumn mumbled, picking one up for herself.
“He’ll make you a proper weapon once you decide on a path and combat style. This way you’ll have something to start with.”
“Is he making one for everyone?” I asked.
“Only for those heading into a combat path. A smith like me will just whack something with a hammer.”
I nodded. It made sense. “Oh, and here.” Karl tossed down four simple leather sheaths that could loop onto a belt. They were crude and loose-fitting enough to need a little leather strap to keep the blades from falling out. “We don’t have anything better right now, but they should work.”
“Thank you.” I said. “I suppose this means we need to learn how to actually use them.”
I looped the two sheaths through my belt loop and added two of the daggers, feeling slightly better about myself. I didn’t know much about fighting, but at least I could poke something if it tried to attack me.
Snow began to drift lazily down from above as Karl left Autumn and I at the campfire. We took out time cleaning our bowls and discussing the day. With Wind gone until lunch at his best estimate, we had time before training with him began again. I was still procrastinating on talking to the inscriptionists, so instead I joined Autumn in walking around the camp. Some worked, but with the camp set up, many lounged about. Waiting.
Eventually we reached Kar’ktar’s makeshift forge where the sharp strikes of his hammer rang out across the camp. We found Karl holding the base of a massive bronze shield over the anvil while the smith’s hammer worked out a large dent in its center. I say bronze, but I really wasn’t so sure.
“Are you two going to gawk, or are you going to work?” Kar’ktar spat between his hammer strokes.
“Erm, do you need help?” Autumn asked.
“Always do.” The smith said, glancing up. “Foxy there probably couldn’t lift a hammer though.”
A wordless look in Autumn’s eyes told me she wanted to help, and to be honest I had already begun to grow restless with waiting.
“Go on.” I said. “I may as well see what this inscription stuff is all about. We’ll get lunch later, yeah?”
At Autumn’s nod I left her at the forge and headed for the large inscriptionis’s tent located nearby. I entered to find two sek’heli and three vul’heli sitting around a makeshift log table covered in all manner of leather-bound books, scrolls, and stone tablets. A shining yellow crystal hung from the central pole of the tent, illuminating the entire spread. Packs filled with even more books and writing materials leaned against the walls of the tent.
Thorn and an older male vul’heli sat at one end of the table where they leaned over a sketch of one of the runes from the ruined tower. At the other end, two sek’heli and a vul’heli were examining the runes from the obelisk Melwyn had sketched.
“Erm, good morning.” I said when none of them so much as acknowledged my presence. “I know this is a bit unexpected, but I was hoping one of you could teach me a bit about inscription.”
Five heads glanced up from their work to look at me, then four of them turned to stare at Thorn who shrunk beneath their gaze.
“Why me.” Thorn grumbled.
“Because you’re the youngest and Earth asked you to.” The older vul’heli beside her said with a shrug. “There is no need to make River feel awkward.”
“But we’re actually making progress! This is more important than teaching a newbie.”
“Then how about we explain the basics as we work?” The older vul’heli suggested.
“I can leave if I’m too much of a bother.” I said. “There is always tomorrow.”
“Nonsense!” The vul’heli said. “We have all winter to figure out these runes. One day won’t make a difference. And who knows, maybe you’ll have some good ideas.” He stood and offered me a hand in the customary human greeting. “I’m Running Wolf, or just Wolf. You’ve met my apprentice Thorn.”
A fox called wolf. I thought with amusement, shaking his hand. “Dancing River.”
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“Excellent! Take a seat and we’ll get started.”
“How did you get the name Running Wolf?” I asked, taking the offered stool. The name seemed strange to be given to a scholar.
“I started with the Hunter path believe it or not.” Wolf told me. “About twenty years ago I found the call of inscription and reset my levels. I never looked back.”
“That means you releveled both paths from zero?” I asked, identifying Wolf.
Vul’heli: Level 132
“Sure does. Not bad for an old ‘heli eh?”
“Higher than most of the expedition, that’s for sure.” I said.
“Can we get started please. I’d like to get back to this rune sooner than later.” Thorn interrupted, an impatient look on her face.
“Have you figured out anything about what it does?” I asked.
Thorn shrugged. “More or less. It’s a simple rune. The only visible thing it can do is glow red. Otherwise it sends a unique magic pulse to other runes nearby. It seems to run purely on arcane magic though, so I’m not sure why it lit up when you touched it.”
“I have an arcane affinity.” I said. “Would that change anything?”
Thorn blinked at me in surprise. “I’ve never heard of a vul’heli having that affinity before.”
“It would explain everything.” Wolf said, ignoring Thorn. “An affinity indicates the type of mana your body naturally produces. Untrained magic users will naturally emit excess mana, which would allow the rune to detect your magic without you meaning to activate it.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I said. “Have you figured out what the other runes do?”
“The ones on the circle all do the same thing, but send out slightly different magic pulses. At least for the ones we checked.” Thorn answered. “The runes on the slab itself are more complicated. We’ll need to figure those out to understand what this array was used for.”
I blinked at her. From how Thorn explained it and from my recollections of the tower, the purpose of the runes seemed pretty straightforward to me.
“Let me get this straight.” I said. “Fifty runes surround what is likely a basement door in a circle. Whenever you touch one with arcane mana, it lights up red and sends a unique signal around to the other runes, and presumably the door itself.”
Thorn nodded.
“That sounds like some sort of combination lock to me.”
“A combination lock?” Wolf gave me a confused look that I returned. Did this world not have combination locks? When were combination locks invented on earth?
“A combination lock is where instead of a key to open the lock, you need to input the correct combinations from a bunch of given options. They’re very common where I’m from, but mechanical or electrical instead of magical.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Thorn said. “You just need to guess the combination or have it leak out and anyone can enter.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it can leak out, but a combination lock can sometimes be safer than a physical key that can be stolen or picked. They are also impossible to guess if done right.”
“How so?”
“Look at our door here. If you need to press two runes to open it, that’s fifty times fifty, or 2500 different possible combinations. With five runes presses, that’s um… uh… six mill… uh… just over three hundred million different combinations. Slightly less if you can’t activate the same rune more than once.”
“You might be onto something.” Wolf mused. “See? Ten minutes and already a solid idea!”
“Maybe.” Thorn gumbled.
It turned out Thorn and Wolf’s idea of a ‘simple rune’ was a lot more complicated than I expected when they tried showing me the basics. After weathering a smug look from Thorn, she backtracked and started me at the very beginning.
The lesson started with Thorn scratching a line in a piece of wood, and then spending the next thirty minutes trying to explain to me exactly why putting magic through a single straight line in a piece of wood would do absolutely nothing. It turned out to be a combination of the fact that a single straight line didn’t actually do anything to magic, and that most wood is a terrible conductor of it.
Next, Thorn had me scratch three lines end to end to form a Z on the surface of a flat stone slab with some sort of pen-sized etching tool. This also did nothing when she channeled mana through one end of it. Apparently the caster’s intent mattered as much as the etched line itself when it came to directing magic.
That was my first task: understanding intent and how to use it to direct magic within a rune. Thorn explained that learning to use intent was a rite of passage for all new inscriptionists before diving into the weeds that was magical theory.
“Learning intent is the biggest struggle of a new inscriptionist.” Thorn told me. “It can take months for some to reach an acceptable level. There is no point in jumping into theory until you can project enough intent for a simple rune.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. It meant chasing after an inscription-based path now was just wasting my time. Even so, I wasn’t about to give Thorn the satisfaction of watching me give up.
Over the next four hours I drew the same three lines over and over again while Thorn returned to examining the runes with Wolf. During my first few attempts I just etched the line, but during my second few I etched the line. Every attempt failed of course. Thorn would take a single glance at my completed efforts before just rolling her eyes and telling me to do it again. It seemed that no matter how much I really really wanted my etched lines to mean something, they were never anything more than just that.
“You have to give me something to work towards.” I grumbled after my eighth attempt. “I feel like I’m misunderstanding what you mean by ‘intent’.”
“Intent is the act of shaping the etheric pathways in the same way you etch runes into the stone. It requires you to impress your will upon the object.” Wolf told me, hearing my frustration. “The physical etching in the stone is just a trough to hold the etheric pathways steady. There is little else I can say on the topic because everyone shapes the pathways differently. You will need to figure out what it means on your own.”
With a frown, I focused my attention on the same stone slab marred by my previous attempts. This time, when I put my engraving tool on the stone, I held the image of the finished rune in my mind. I imagined an invisible, intangible wire floating in the air and bent into the shape of the simple rune. The edges were smooth and perfect, effortlessly directing mana to flow within. I held the mentioned image in my mind as I placed the engraving tool down on the stone. The tool scraped across the stone and I willed my imagined wire-rune to form in the etched line left by the engraving tool.
Something within my mind slid into place and I felt something, purpose almost, tingling at the tips of my fingers. Holding onto that feeling, I opened my eyes and began to sketch. This time, when I finished etching my fancy ‘Z’, I felt something different about the lines. There was more to it this time. Something substantial.
“That was harder than I expected.” I grumbled, glancing up to see something akin to astonishment on Thorn’s face before she schooled her expression into a frown. Wolf roared with laughter beside her.
“You succeeded already!” Wolf slapped me on the shoulder. “In the space of a morning! It often takes weeks of practice and training to get that far.”
“I thought it was a few months?” I said, not really knowing how to feel. I eyed Wolf, wondering if they were pulling my leg.
“Don’t give me that look. You did it in a few hours after all.” Wolf gave me a toothy grin. “The rest of learning inscription requires years of study, magic theory, and practice.”
I groaned. This was probably the answer to ‘why doesn’t everyone just learn magic’. I’d already expected to spend the next four years in university, so spending that time here learning magic couldn’t be much worse. A long term goal then. I still intended to take Autumn and find our friends once we were ready to traverse the Heartwood.
**********
Thorn continued my introduction by explaining exactly what my little ‘Z’ rune did and why.
“It’s designed to produce a small amount of heat when exposed to fire affinity mana.” Thorn explained the ‘z’ shaped squiggle I’d drawn. “Any slight deviation from the idealized design reduces the efficiency of the runes. The more complicated the rune, and the more runes you string together in sequence, the more precise you need to be.”
“This assumes your runes are efficient in the first place.” I said.
“Yes. That’s also why it’s usually better to use known runes than try to muddle through creating your own. The mathematics behind rune function can be frustrating. Without an enormous amount of knowledge, effort, and intuition, the standard runes will be more effective than anything you can create yourself, even if they don’t fit perfectly into what you need.”
“How many runes are in general use?” I asked.
“I think the most recent published general compendium lists 22,692.” Thorn shrugged. “There are only a hundred or so important ones to remember by heart, while the rest we just look up and reference as we need.”
I nodded. The more I learned about inscription, the more it sounded like programming if every useful ten-line block of code was represented by an egyptian hieroglyph. Oh, and each hieroglyph had to be drawn to precise specifications for the entire program not to fall apart.
“I take it that inscriptionists are not very common.” I said.
“More than you might think. Inscriptionists can be quite wealthy if they are good at what they do.” Wolf said. “Every noble or warrior with a sword and armor will need something done. Even common folk may get things inscribed if they can afford it.”
Our conversation was interrupted a few minutes later when Autumn brushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside.
“Mara is serving lunch, so I thought I’d come grab you.” She told me after exchanging a greeting with the other inscriptionists.
“Any sign of Wind?” I asked, standing up.
“Not yet.”
**********
Wind’s group never ended up showing over lunch, and I ended up spending the afternoon back in the inscriptionist’s tent where Wolf and Thorn started me on the very basics of inscription theory. Inscription reminded me of physics in a way. Magic formed a deterministic system complete with physical constants, mathematical formulas for idealized situations, and a lot of jargon. With how complicated runes tended to be, Realgar’s mathematical theory wasn’t advanced enough to solve everything, leading to a blend of equations and intuition.
The more I learned, the more Inscription pulled at me, and I could almost imagine myself spending a lifetime lost in its idiosyncrasies. We started with the basic questions: In what way does mana moving through a curved path affect the environment around it? In what way does that same mana affect itself? Can you calculate it?
When I asked why and how mana affects the world around it, Wolf told me that the theory behind it was the subject of great debate and would speak no further on it.
I hadn’t learned much by the time Mara’s ladle signaled dinner, but I had learned enough to get me hooked. An entire new field of study lay open before me. It wasn’t some arm-wavy hocus pocus, but something more logical that I could sink my teeth into. A now-familiar box filled with silver text had appeared before my vision.
Level up! Vul’heli (Shadowclaw) has increased to level 4.
Attributes:
+1 Intelligence
+2 Free
Six more to go. I thought.
I met an exhausted Autumn and Karl just outside the tent where we walked together towards the central clearing. Dinner was quiet that night, both from the nervous whispers and from the three inches of newly fallen snow that blanketed the camp. More white drifted down from above.
There was still no sign of Wind.
**********
The next morning I woke up in the darkness of my tent, completed the morning brushing with some help from Badger, and stumbled out into a white wonderland where my footpaws sunk into almost a foot of fresh snow. Flurries continued to fall from the starless sky above. All around me the camp rose, dusted snow off their tents and filtered into the common area with grim expressions.
It had been an entire day now since Wind had left, far longer than the four hours the experienced adventurer predicted. I huddled with Autumn, Brook, Karl, and Badger at breakfast. We whispered over our food while the entire expedition ate in uncharacteristic silence. I could almost feel the dark thoughts brooding in their minds.
What if Wind was wrong about the orcs? What if he met a monster they couldn’t fight alone? I shook my head at the bleak thoughts. There were a dozen explanations and no sense in diving straight for the worst one. Wind couldn’t be dead. The expedition needed him.
I started the day back in the inscription tent while Autumn looked for ways she could help out around the camp and the other Lost found their respective teachers.
I buried myself in the inscription theory lessons, but throughout the morning worry and doubt nagged at the back of my mind. Even Wolf looked less energetic.
Lunch came and went. Mid afternoon dragged into late, and still Wind failed to return.
Halfway through writing out an equation at Thorn’s request, I heard the panicked shout of a sentry. Metal clashed once and, with a final thump, the shout was cut short.
I glanced at the entrance to the tent, my blood running cold.
A guttural battle cry reverberated through the air and the camp descended into chaos.