The strangest of arcane magic is mysticism, which functions by forming a spirit out of your mana and continuing to do so any time you have excess magical power. After this you call upon this artificial being as divine casters do real spirits and gods. At first the artificial spirit is little more than a pool to store mana for later use but as time passes and the pool grows it begins to develop intelligence which it will lose if too much of the accumulated mana is spent.
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Adrian
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One can only cry so much; my friend is dead because I went to help fight. If I had stayed near the food court I would have caught the two goblins that snuck through. Some leader I am, getting my friends killed just so I could fight some of these smelly bastards. Maybe this is why people drink when their life sucks. Alcohol makes you not care, that won’t help though.
My tears have dried, I have no more tears left today. I’ll spend tomorrow digging a hole for Tomas, the yard of some house nearby will have to do. I’m going to kill any thing that threatens my friends, I’m not going to let another die.
After a while Abagail walks up and stands overlooking the entrance to the store. Its been a few hours I guess my watch is over. I walk over to where the sleeping bags have been laid down.
After a few minutes my fatigue claims me and I drift to sleep.
I am in a grey void again. This dream space thing again.
“Show me a character sheet of myself.” I may as well see if anything changed. Nothing happens, why didn’t that work? It worked last time, speak to converse.
A thought pops into my mind. This void resets to a default each time. That’s stupid it should hold whatever settings you left it on. Lets see, it can only hear questions in my thoughts. Will you resume the settings present at the end of my last visit here?
[Yes]
“Great show me the character sheet of myself again, display any changes that occurred separately.”
[Gain: Fight 5 (+25SP, +1 Attribute), DK: V 3 (+10SP, +50EP), Evasion 2 (+2SP), Sword 1 (+1SP), Dagger 1 (+1SP), Kill: Multiple Tainted Creature (+15EP)]
[
Adrian Human male, STR 14 DEX 17, CON 13, INT 18, WIS 17, CHA 15, APR 16
Class: Fight 5, Magus 2, DK: V 3, STAT (+1)
Age 17 HP: 106 MP: 18 EP85 SP114
Skills: Ranged 2, Firearms 2, Archery 1, Melee 2, Sword 1, Dagger 1,
Perception 2, Evasion 2
Arcana 7, Nature 5, Physics 4, Mathematics 5, Religion 2, Tactics 3, Technology 2, Chemistry 3, Planes 3,
Handle Animal 2, Empathy 2
Driving 3, Computers 3,
Cooking 3, Sewing 2, Leatherwork 1, Drawing 2, Carving 2,
Traits: Perfect Recall, Free Multiclassing, Reality Weaver,
Language: English, Spanish, Portuguese,
Magic: Arcane Might 3,
Space 2, Fate 1, Life 2, Death 1, Mind 1, Primal 1, Soul 0, Planar 0, Time 1
Matter: Manipulation 1, Telekinetic 0 Energy: Fire 2, Lightning 2, Light 1, Darkness 0,
]
Well, the sheet is somewhat better. I need to learn to heal more but that’ll cost too much, i just don't have the hundred and sixty SP. I gained the fighter class? I feel the answer of yes pop into my mind. Stupid realm, answering rhetorical questions.
“What is DK:V?”
[Dragon Knight Void variant.]
“Why do I have that?”
[One of your ancestors was one. The class is hereditary.]
“What is it about?”
[Waking up the power of the dragon inside of you.]
“Which entails?”
[You will become more draconic until you awaken the ability to shift between the two forms.]
That sounds good, void dragon. I haven’t read about those in any of my games or books.
“I assume Magus is the type of mage I am.”
[No, but it is the closest to what you are. We do not know a better name to call it.]
“Show me what I can afford with my EP”
[
Darkvision 30 Infravision 30 Keen Senses 15
BlindSense 50 ManaSight 75 Echolocation 40
[]Sense 45
Inc STAT (+2) 10M [Elem] Infusion 50 [Elem] Touched 50
Lesser Draconic
Lesser Demonic 75 Lesser Celestial 75 Scales 30
Breath Weapon 50 Mana Infusion 75
[Special] Infusion 75 [Special] Touched 75
]
“I am assuming that I need to take draconic choses to continue in the Dragon Knight stuff.”
[Affirmative]
"Will this prevent me from picking up the other options?"
[Yes]
I frown, but I have an entire class centered on the draconic path so the net amount I can get should be higher. Celestial was the other one I was considering but since they are the same cost they should be roughly equal.
It isn't worth not getting to use this Dragon Knight class to take a different path.
“Then I’ll take the Lesser Draconic option.”
[You only have the option of void, as you are already part of that lineage. Are you ok with that?]
“Sure” even if I’ve never heard of them I doubt that any dragon type is overly weak. Well except for maybe white. “What do the different types change?”
[The secondary abilities that will become available afterwards. It also affects the restrictions on other paths that could have been taken.]
Ok, makes sense. I guess then red dragons couldn’t grab some sort of cold option. What is the opposite of void? Hmm, no answer appeared whatever this realm is does not know.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
I look at the number of EP drop to thirteen. That isn't right, eighty five minus seventy five should be ten.
"Why did it cost less than the full amount?"
[You skill in the Sphere of Life makes you slightly easier to change.]
Interesting, there should be a way for me to abuse this if I have the luxury of stockpiling. But will I have the opportunity to do so? I don’t have enough SP to raise Life further. So, I can’t advance healing further or try to power game my way to more evective EP. What should I get?
[Gaining a language is always good. If you are struggling in a fight perhaps a combat skill with a weapon or Death.]
“What is the language those three were speaking to me in?”
[Elvish]
“I’ll take Elvish and . . . Death then”
[What aspect do you want to use the Attribute point?]
“Constitution”
[There is no more we can help you with. We will stay connected to assimilate knowledge as you dream.]
The grey void blurs, how can it do that? There aren’t any objects to blur. I fall unconscious.
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I wake up in a plain cell of grey cinderblocks with a concrete floor. I sit up on the plain hard mattress confused, this is not where I went to sleep.
“Finally decided to wake up?” a voice ask in clear dislike.
“Yes, why am I here?” I ask.
“Why? You have the audacity to ask why. Do you not remember what you did?”
“What I did?” I ask in confusion.
“You murdered dozens if not hundreds of people” a second voice calls out before a third says, “silence. Do not talk with the prisoner. We wouldn’t want him to go free because of a mistrial.”
I frown, this does not make sense to me. Murder and dozens if not hundreds of people? Why would I even do such a thing?
Two police officers reach the door of my cell and pull it open, behind them a third officer stands in the gap between them. He stands with a pair of cuffs but there is only hate or maybe disgust in his eyes for me, just as it is for the other officers.
“Stand up and turn around, you are about to be brought to trial” the man says.
“No, I’m not doing anything until I talk to my lawyer” I say.
The officer grabs my right arm and in a swift series of motions pulls me up off of the cot before turning me around to cuff my arms behind me before I am sure what is going on.
“Your lawyer is waiting at the courthouse. Please misbehave, I would love to report that you made an escape attempt” he whispers in my ear, quiet enough to make sure that the camera that is no doubt nearby cannot pick up his voice.
I keep my mouth shut as I am half dragged half walk to a police car from a back door of the station.
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I sit down at the defendants table where a man in a worn suit that looks like it has not been to the dry cleaners a few too many times. It seems that the trial had started without me and I am forced to simple sit without speaking.
“I call to the stand Tomas Green” a man in a much better-looking suit says.
Tomas? But I thought he died from a goblin that I didn’t manage to get. That he died because I was too weak. That I am a failure that even with my powers could not keep my friend alive. Something isn’t right here.
I look up as Tomas takes a seat, he must have taken the whole swearing on the bible to tell the truth.
“Tomas, I would like you to tell us what Adrian did three days ago” the prosecutor says.
“I do not want to. I don’t have to answer questions that I . . .” Tomas starts before he is cut off.
“The fifth amendment only applies to self-incrimination. If you do not answer the questions you are admitting guilt to being involved in the massacre of your friend” the judge interrupts.
Tomas bites his tongue and there is a moment of conflict and hesitation before he begins, “Adrian Ravnos is the one who began. . .”
I stop listening as the sting of betrayal hits me. My friend is throwing me under the bus to save his own hide; but is that any better than me who left him behind to satisfy my own curiosity. I let him die because of my own foolishness.
Wait this doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t make sense for me to feel guilt over getting Tomas killed if he stands in front of me but I definitely saw him die. Yet he is right in front of me, but why are they all talking about me massacring a bunch of. . .
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Cold anger clouds my thoughts as I fall into some sort of memory. The weak pathetic people at this school keep looking down on me. The administration always taking the side of the jocks when I retaliate to their bullying. Always they take the side of athletes, the rich boys whose dads have the money and time to be part of the extracurricular activities.
Two days ago, Jim decided to get into another fight with me after I refused to play some game of his. The entire thing got caught on tape but still they threaten me with expulsion for my repeat offenses against an outstanding member of society. That there is going to be a serious investigation by the police as well. Last night my mother got a call that there are several tapes of me injuring Jim and his flunkies but not once do the videos show the start.
If I am going to be fucked over by either Jim using me as a plaything or by my life being destroyed in false accusations I should at least get the satisfaction of making all these assholes pay. I’m done getting walked over. All I have to look forwards to in life now is juvie, jail and the following life of crime such a path will force upon me so what is the point in playing by the rules anymore?
I walk in the front door, two pistols and a few extra magazines on me. Not enough to take out the police and swat team that’ll come after me but if I hit the security guard first they’ll be enough to take out those that have decided to ruin any chance I have at having the kind of life I want.
I would have cut the phone and power lines but too many people have cell phones for that to matter. I turn left as the only approved gun on campus would be in the cafeteria. No one gives me a second look and I luck out that the officer takes a trip to the nearest bathroom. I follow him in and enter the stall next to his.
Before yesterday I would have felt guilty about this as he had defended me in the past but the only way that the security footage would only show the parts that support Jim’s stories are if he was involved in screwing me over. I pull out the pistol that has a suppressor attached from my bookbag, it won’t be silent but with all the chatter in the cafeteria and the lack of anyone else in the room the authorities won’t get called until after I do something else.
I hear the sounds of diarrhea and the position of his feet gives me the position and I take aim. I fire four times through the cheap thin fiberglass of the barrier between us. There is a gurgling sound from the other stall and I move in case he begins to return fire in the short time he still has in this world.
I quickly move out of his possible range of sight and wait a bit over a minute to make sure that he is either dead or too weak to shoot me. I crawl under the stall door to make sure that his weapon won’t end up being used by another student against me.
I try to suppress the feelings of queasiness that surfaces as I see the blood covered corpse and remove the sidearm from him. I don’t have anywhere I can hide the body better than where it is at but I won’t need that much time to hit the administration and Jim. Thursdays always have a faculty meeting but not everyone there is on my hit list. I need to isolate the movements of others if I can. Should I give a ‘tip’ about an unknown trespasser to try to get everyone to hide in whatever room they are now in.
No, it’ll set off alarms and I can’t count on everyone actually doing it. Hit the faculty and call my own drill? That should work though I may have to wait for classes to start to actually get it to work. Will anyone notice Officer Davis in the hour it’ll take? Maybe, he doesn’t actually do much but someone could always wonder in here. . .
Wait, the janitorial closet locks and he’ll have a key to it. I grab it and open the small closet that is used to store toilet paper and a few cleaning supplies, nothing that will be needed in the next hour. I retrieve the mop to clean up the spilt blood but there shouldn’t be too much since his heart has already stopped.
I am lucky enough not to be interrupted in the short ten minutes it takes me to make the preparations to conceal what I have done until it is too late for the others. I wait longer in the bathroom until after the bell has rung for the start of classes for the day. Administration first and then those that will lock themselves in rooms, preventing their own escape. . .
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I continue to sit lost in my thoughts as the trial continues, others being called up but never me. My attorney also makes no attempt to defend me in any way. When he is called on he simply responds that he has no question for the witnesses nor does he call upon any to defend me.
Only when the judges gavel hits his podium does my strange trance end. It makes no sense but I am sentenced to a psychiatric ward rather than prison or death row. I don’t speak or resist as I am taken to whatever facility that was named.
Something is wrong with my memories, I remember the things that they accuse me of but I also know that I was fleeing from an invasion of goblins. I was fighting for my life against that enemy. I killed a lot of them with both magic and gunfire but I don’t think I would do this. Not for the reasons in these memories.
Several things don’t make sense between my two sets of memories, why didn’t I used magic at all during my assassination of all these people. I use it all the time but never once during that few hours. I spend almost all summer and break learning magic at my grandfathers but I don’t use it at all here. I should have at least have done something like call ammunition to me. Why didn’t I?
But it also doesn’t make sense for goblins to show up out of nowhere and start eating people. Both of the sets of memories can’t be real. I’m not even sure which one I want to be real, getting my friends killed and fighting for my life or being a murderer, whose friends betrayed him. Neither is a world that I would want to be a part of. Why can’t it be one that I get to play games and have fun.
What is even going on?
I am brought to a room and placed in a chair to restrain my movements. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be stuck here in a prison. Can I get out of here with my magic? A burst of electricity through the lightbulbs to start a fire? Fake my death and hide? Will that be any better than being stuck in here?
I try to pull a knife from the kitchen at home through Translocation Grasp but for the first time in many years I do not feel the world bend to my will nor do I feel the weight of my desired target. Why didn’t it work? I’ve never heard of anything that could stop Ravnos magic from working. Have the world retaliate sure but for it to not work at all isn’t something that grandpa ever mentioned.
A nurse and a doctor in a white coat enter the room as whoever it was that put me in this chair leaves the room. The doctor says something but I don’t hear it as I focus on performing magic. The last thing I see is a young woman in a nurse’s outfit as I am put under some sort of sedative and black out.