Hello, my name is Llond, and, if you’re reading this, I am most likely dead and you're in a similar predicament. If that is the case and I have died, I hope that my story is at the least entertaining in your final moments of life. Being stuck down here and having my handy enchanters book I figured I should start keeping a journal.
Master Bertol told me every good runesman keeps a journal tracking every success and failure for later study and contemplation. I don't think this was the use he meant for my journal but writing makes me feel a little better. It helps me forget where I am, like I'm a watcher in my favorite tavern recording the story of a condemned man rather than being the condemned man.
It all started last week, when I met her. Well no, that’s not exactly correct, I suppose if I'm keeping a journal I should start at the true beginning.
Three years ago my parents died, not from an accident but from the Dungeon. They were accused of stealing from a noble, it wasn't true of course but since the nobles run the courts it was over quickly. My parents were the owners of a shop that sold antiques.
One day the Baron of some chunk of land beyond the cities walls came to them demanding that the pair of lions flanking our homes walk be sold and delivered to his estate. The lions in question were an old family heirloom that had been passed down from father to son for several generations. The Baron, while riding by in his carriage had stopped and demanded to have them. Naturally when my parents refused the baron became furious. The next day both my mother and father were hauled to the king’s prison, the nobles son in law tried my parents for stealing the statues and awarded him our home and all belongings.
My parents cries of protest were ignored and they were deemed the worst kind of thieves and were sentenced to join the very next wave of prisoners going to the dungeon later that day. I had only enough time to pass the coins I had been saving for mothers birthday present and give them a hug before they were marched away. They had just enough coin to purchase a small basket of food and an old rusty short sword. They were marched down death row in nothing but a loin cloth and the few items they were able to purchase.
Our neighbor Master Bertol took me in when they came for my parents, he was an old friend of my fathers from their adventuring days, that was how father got into the antiques business to begin with. Master Bertol and I watched my parents in his viewing mirror. They didn’t even make it to the second floor before they were cut down by other prisoners. The prisoners that went before had hidden in the first hallway branching off from the main one. They jumped out and cut my father down before he could react. The two men then raped my mother before killing her too.
Those men were killed shortly after. The man looting my father had a dagger stuck thru his ear by a goblin that snuck up on him from behind. The man who was still having his way with mother’s corpse was stabbed in the back several times by more goblins with sharpened sticks. The goblins took everything and hauled off the bodies as well, to their cook pots I imagine.
I blamed the baron for my parents gruesome death and spent all my free time making plans to kill him or somehow get him arrested and thrown into the dungeon too. It happened a year later, though not of my doing. One of the baron's own son’s had him arrested for treason, he was taken away in the dead of night so he had even less on him than my father had. He died quickly, probably to the same goblin band that took my parents bodies away. I bet all the money I had on him not making it to the second floor and won a small purse of gold for my troubles. It wasn't enough to make up for the death of my parents but it was a start.
It's been two years since the Barons death, the pain is still there and I sometimes have nightmares of my parents traversing the dungeon but they come less often now. Master Bertol had taken me in on the condition I help him around the shop, he was a Runesman. He sold the enchanted objects that he made to the rich and powerful. Runes are a type of magic that anyone can learn but few can master. It takes a deft hand to carve the complex runes into an object, since the slightest error can have catastrophic effects most don't pursue the path. In the year between my parents death and the Barons sentencing I didn't do much around the shop, mostly sweeping and re-arranging display cases.
On my 17th birthday Master Bertol gave me this enchanted book of endless pages and offered to take me on as an apprentice if I wished, now that my vengeance was complete. Not knowing what else to do, I agreed to become his apprentice. There on the table after my birthday dinner was cleaned away he taught me my first runes. The core runes for fire, earth, water and air, they are the building blocks that make up all of rune magic.
I spent the next year tracing these runes on scratch paper until I could draw them perfectly blindfolded. Once copied properly while blindfolded, I was then allowed to copy them into my journal. After mastering the 4 core runes and copying them into my book with all the notes I had taken during his lessons I was finally granted the choice of a true rune to learn. Master Bertol told me to start small and offered to teach me either a rune of protection or the rune of unending drink both being fairly simple and safe variations of the earth and water runes.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
I chose the protection rune since rings and amulets that can protect you from harm are always in high demand. Upon mastering the rune of minor protection I was finally allowed to have it in my book. After that rather than teaching me a new rune he started teaching me about materials. He taught me that all materials hold magic in them at their very core and if you tried to draw too much power from that core it would fail. Failure usually meant destruction of the item and depending on the rune you were carving it can have dramatic effects, including injury or death for the runesman as well.
Finally on my 18th birthday after months of memorization he finally told me I was ready to start scribing runes for real, not just copying them on paper. Master Bertol handed me a finely wrapped box and with a great smile he urged me to open it. Too small to be another book I excitedly tore off the wrappings and was stunned when the lamps light glinted off the silver object in the box. It was a beautifully crafted silver Runesmans scribe. For the past year I had been using a bronze Runesmans scribe specifically for apprentices which only allowed one to write on paper. Marvels in their own right due to never running out of ink and able to write on nearly any surface they are still simple toys in comparison to a true Runesmans scribe.
Runesmans scribes come in many flavors, most true Runesmen’s scribes can write or carve what you wish on nearly any surface though the highest ranks of tools are made of silver and gold. The only objects that a silver Runesmans scribe can’t write on is some of the rarest metals and gems in the world which only a gold scribe can work safely. Most master Runesmen never own a gold scribe unless they get a job where they are asked to use said rare material and must get one to complete it. Many never even acquire a silver one let alone gold, this gift is so much more than I could have ever hoped for.
It must have cost him a fortune, even if he did all the work in making it himself. The six layers of pure silver sheets which were covered on both sides in tiny runes then layered and shaped into a scribe would still cost several hundred gold coins each to acquire. It was too great a gift for a lowly apprentice like me to have. When I said as much he laughed and told me how he and my father had discussed me becoming his apprentice long before they had been taken. My parents had been giving him coin to procure a gold scribe once I was accepted to the mages college. Since they were taken a decade before they had saved enough for a gold scribe, Master Bertol had continued adding to the savings and had enough funds to make my scribe with silver.
Carefully withdrawing it from the box I held it up in wonder examining each visible rune in awe. Laughing at my gentleness with the tool he instructed me in it's activation, silver and gold scribes were bound magically to its owner. Being nearly indestructible and only usable by the owner there was no reason to steal them, making the scribe one of the safest yet most valuable objects a runesman can own.
Binding it to me was quite painful, I had to cut my palm open with the sharp tip and smear my blood all over the outside. I also had to remove a small cap on the end and fill a reservoir with blood as well. After filling the reservoir and reseating the cap the tool became hot in my hands, he ordered me to hold it tight in my injured palm until the magic was done.
Being right handed it was in my right palm that I gripped the scribe. I felt a sudden searing pain as the magic branded my hand but it soon faded with the light and heat. Willing my hand to open I could see many tiny runes faintly glowing in my palm which faded with the light of the scribes magic.
"Happy birthday Runesman Llond" master Bertol said clapping me on the shoulder with a broad smile.
"I'm a runesman?" I asked surprised at his announcement.
"Well no, you're still an apprentice, but that scribe is the only tool you will need to become a master runesman and you may never have the need to get a gold one. Most runesman spend years saving to acquire their silver scribe so you're already ahead of your peers".
With my new silver scribe Master Bertol began to let me practice on a box of junk jewelry he had acquired from a jeweler's apprentice and even allowed me to sell the successful pieces. I had a small basket in his display window labeled apprentice pieces. Though he informed me that once they sold I would be responsible for obtaining my own things to enchant.
That box had been the rest of my birthday gift, now that I was making some coin I had to learn how to barter for what I needed in order to become a true runesman. I made quick friends with many of the local jewelers apprentices and made arrangements to purchase all of their successful practice pieces in exchange for putting my minor protection rune on some of their best work.
I didn't focus entirely on jewelry, though it did make for the best income. Master Bertol also instructed me on the placement of runes into clothing. Adding the protection rune in the proper way to the soles of a pair of shoes before it was assembled would increase the life of said shoes several years before ever beginning to show wear.
Within months I had an entire set of work clothes all enhanced with my protection rune as well as most of my other clothing. I even made a deal with the cobbler's apprentice to place runes on the shoes for his final cobbler test. This trade got me a finely crafted pair of boots tailored especially for me.
The next rune I began to study was a water rune used for making objects that would always be full, such as water skins or drinking cups. This one was far more complicated and took a lot more time to master, there was a ton of math involved to ensure your cup never overflowed but remained full.
Several of the arcing lines of the water rune acted as measurements that determined the volume that would be produced. I had all the notes for the rune, guides to help me in calculating how much water would be kept and when the rune would stop gathering water in the object. The rune hadn't been scribed in my journal yet since I hadn't perfected it before meeting her.