Chapter 39 - Edge of the Abyss II
Claire sat around for a few moments as she contemplated the goddess’ identity. The blueblood was somewhat familiar with the eternal flow. Allegra, her tutor in the mystic arts, had mentioned the concept on several occasions, but she had never gone into detail. Her countrymen cared little for it; its goddess was rarely mentioned in any notable Cadrian texts.
That, in and of itself, was nothing out of the ordinary. Even powerful gods were often left ignored in regions beyond their influence. The god of the sea, for example, was scarcely named in most landlocked countries, his blessings and condemnations forgotten by all but scholars and the clergy.
Only a small handful of deities lorded over concepts broad enough to be universally acknowledged, and many of them were more notorious than they were widely worshipped. Vella, the goddess of war, was hated by wives from all corners of society. She was often mocked for being a lustful harlot who stole dutiful husbands from their families. Likewise, Builledracht, the god of curses, was labelled an eccentric degenerate that drew pleasure from suffering. Neither were particularly liked, but they were among the most well known, even more reputable than the goddess of order and the divine collective of art and song.
On the other side of the spectrum were gods that presided over very specific topics, areas, or groups. The god of the inner flame, for one, was a well documented case of an immortal that revealed himself only to those already in tune with his ideals. He would have remained largely unknown, had one of his believers not been the head of a state.
Claire wasn’t sure which of these umbrellas her patron deity fell under. Her awareness of the eternal flow appeared to suggest that the goddess was either somewhat influential or a notable outlier of sorts, but she couldn’t recall which. Whatever the case, the halfbreed was left with an unanswered question she couldn’t ignore: why?
She simply didn’t understand the reason the Goddess was supposedly in charge of her. The eternal flow wasn’t something her mother had ever mentioned, which was to say it likely was just as uninfluential in Sthenia as it was in Cadria. To Claire’s knowledge, there hadn’t been any extenuating circumstances with regards to her birth either. She was a rare mix of species, but that alone was no reason for an unknown god to swoop in and claim her. She should have, by all means, been born under Vella’s star, like her father, or Krebb’s, like her mother.
The question of her patron’s identity was one she had asked before, but the ever practical Duke Augustus had blocked her from uncovering it. As far as her father was concerned, Builledracht was the only one deserving of her faith. And that was precisely why she had none whatsoever.
In the end, Claire found herself unable to come up with any clues, so she set the thought aside and opened her supposedly new and improved log. Her first impression was that nothing had changed, but a smaller box popped up after a brief delay. It was much like the panel that appeared whenever she wanted to look at a skill’s finer details, only its contents didn’t need to be read. They read themselves before she could even start to eye them.
Congratulations. You have been blessed by the ever lovely goddess of the eternal flow. This is a rare privilege that few will ever experience. Frankly, you are undeserving.
The paragraph was narrated in the goddess’ voice, the words said in a flattened tone that could only be described as bland and indifferent.
This blessing’s effect is very simple and even you may be capable of understanding it. Your log is now fitted with a voice module. You will no longer need to read any entries. All of them will be spoken to you in my voice. Please be aware that this feature cannot be disabled.
Thanks, Box. I hate it already.
The purpose of this feature is to build your faith in me. May you never forget to whom it is you belong.
One curse was bad enough... Claire closed her log as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Why are all these stupid immortals forcing all these weird things on me?
Heaving another sigh, she pulled up her status and recalled an older problem, the distribution of her ability scores. She had been stuck on it for the whole trip back to the den, but the power nap had helped her make up her mind. Wisdom was the answer.
The rogue knew very little about force magic and she knew even less about spirit guardians, but if other schools were to be considered, then any spell that required a thousand mana was sure to be well worth the expense. A water spell with such a cost could wash away a small village, whereas a wood-based one could uproot and relocate several dozen trees. They were spells that only the ascended could use, as few mages under level 50 could muster up enough magical power to afford them. Not without some sort of sacrifice.
Claire didn’t quite have all of the mana she needed either, but if her mental math was correct, spending 43 of the 46 points she had on hand would get her just enough to cast it once.
Following through on the investment, however, proved that she was incorrect. Her total capacity nearly doubled, jumping from 872 to 1555.
Wait, where did all that mana suddenly come from? She blinked a few times before she flicked her tongue in realisation. 250 must have been another threshold. So that’s… 100, then 250? Is the next one…uhmmmm... 625? That can’t be right, can it? It seems like too weird of a number.
While she was surprised by the sudden jump in her stats, she didn’t find the phenomenon itself all that startling. Thresholding was one of the few concepts that her lessons had more or less hammered into her; it was both the reason her mana was so much higher than her health, as well as why her body had suddenly felt as light as a feather as soon as she got her strength and agility over 100.
After taking another look at her stats and allocating her three remaining points to vitality, the halfbreed spent a few moments eyeing her untested spell. Despite making a hefty investment, she found herself hesitant to cast it. Its name was what bothered her. She couldn’t help but suspect that her guardian spirit would be in some way related to her patron deity, and she had already had more than enough of the goddess for one day.
“I really shouldn’t.”
Despite muttering the correct decision under her breath, she went against her better judgement and cast the spell. The magical energy that was expelled from her body took up a familiar shape atop her left shoulder. The entity that formed was long and thin, with its body coiled around her forelimb and its head poking out from underneath the pit of her arm.
“Hey, remember me?”
The snake spoke to her. And for once, it wasn’t just her imagination. She could feel its weight, as well as the hair-raising sensation of its scales against hers.
“I haven’t had any chances to show up lately, with that fox around, but I’m back,” it said.
There was a moment of silence. Claire stared blankly at the serpent while it returned her gaze with the smuggest face a reptile could manage. The ten seconds that elapsed were the only ten that the snake remained. Because that was how long it took for the mage’s mind to finally catch up with her. Her face contorting in disgust, she cancelled the spell and banished the spirit.
“Why would you dismiss me!? Summon me again! Summon me right now!”
The make-believe predator poofed back into existence, right where it had vanished. But this time, its form was incorporeal.
“Go away. You’re not allowed to be real.”
Claire waved it off her, scattering the smoky substance that was its body to the winds. She knew it could come back immediately, if it really wanted, but the conversation-ending cue was one that they had used for a decade already. It was sure to be well aware that she wasn’t in the mood to deal with its shenanigans.
Shoulder snakes aren't real. Shoulder snakes are not real. Shoulder snakes named Shouldersnake are definitely not real.
Having convinced herself of the whole unadulterated truth, the halfbreed picked up a random cloak and began cutting away at the cloth. She punched a few holes in the hood so there was enough space for her ears and trimmed the rest down to a suitable size. The shoulders had to be sewn closer together so that the mantle wouldn’t fall off the moment she pulled the hood back, and she even removed the sleeves outright. They were unnecessary, more prone to getting in the way than they were helpful.
Log Entry 859
You have acquired the Sewing skill.
Please stop talking, Box. Your voice is already starting to get really annoying.
Her ears caught signs of movement right as she picked up a second cloak. Rapid light footsteps approached the den, culminating in the form of a fox sticking its head through the entrance.
“Hey Claire, I’m a little early, but I’m back!” The words were muffled, in part because the furball had a fish in her mouth. “Wait, I thought you were supposed to be asleep? Weren’t you tired? I thought you said you were going to bed.”
"I slept already."
“Really? I thought you were going to be asleep a lot longer. You were out for a whole turn and a half, last time.”
The bluescale shrugged.
“Well, I guess this is even better since now I don’t have to bury the fish I got you. I just nabbed it out of the water, so it should still be really tasty. Wanna try eating it?”
She placed what looked like a carp on top of the leather cloak. It wasn’t that large of a catch, as it was small enough for the fox to hold it, but what it lacked in size, it made up with in vigour. The oxygen-deprived morsel continued to flop around until Sylvia put it down and pressed both her front paws on top of its face.
“Maybe later.”
“But it’ll start tasting kind of funny later! Fish tastes best when you eat it right after you catch it, so if you’re gonna eat it, now’s the best time.”
“Then you can have it. I don’t want it right now.”
“Are you really sure? You won’t be able to find any tasty fish for a while if you’re stuck hanging around borrok peak.”
Claire nodded.
“Okay, then I’ll just eat this one myself.”
Sylvia devoured the tiny carp in the blink of an eye. It only took her two bites, even though it looked like she would have needed four or five, given the size of her mouth. Even stranger was that the fox consumed the entire creature. The bones, scales, and fins were all swallowed alongside the flesh and entrails.
“Oh, are those the clothes you said you were going to work on?” Sylvia licked her lips as she looked over the pile. “How come you’re working on one of the cloth ones? Isn’t this leather one over here way better?”
“No. It doesn’t fit.”
“Huh? Why not? All you have to do is cut it up a little, right?”
“It’s a runecloak. It’ll fix itself.”
“Oh… That’s a real shame then. It probably has some sort of really cool ability.”
“Maybe,” said Claire, as she moved onto a third cloak.
“I wonder what it is. Maybe it’ll let you fly, or maybe it’ll make it so you can breathe fire! I hope it’s not one of the lame ones that just makes you a better fighter or something. Dad said he used to have one that made it so that his spells cost a lot less mana, but apparently he had to sell it to pay back a debt or something.”
“Does your father know any tailors?”
"Ummmm... I don't know if he does, but I do, and I know you do too!"
“I do?” Claire looked up from her work.
“Yeah, it’s Grant! Though I don’t think he’s gonna do it because he already found out about the shovel and stuff, and he’s really mad. Fishing took three times as long as usual because he kept shouting at me and scaring all the prey away!”
“Let’s ask him anyway.”
“I don’t really know if that’s a good idea.”
“I’m good at negotiating.”
“Really? It kinda doesn’t seem like it…”
Claire rolled her eyes before turning them back to Sylvia. “Wait.”
“What?”
“If he’s a tailor… does that mean you wear clothes?”
“Of course not, silly! Why would a fox ever wear anything?”
“Not wearing clothes is indecent,” she said, as she swapped her older, ruined cloak out for a newer one.
“No it’s not! Our fur covers everything!”
“I’m sure it does,” said Claire. “Will we make it back by nightfall if we leave now?”
“I doubt it, but it’s on the way to Borrok Peak, so we can go tomorrow mornin—hey, wait a second! I’m not indecent!”
“Whatever you say.” The force mage smiled, faintly, as she began working on yet another article of clothing.
Sylvia might know what the goddess’ name is… but I don’t want to ask her. I don’t need her teasing me.
___
Claire
Health: 312/312
Mana: 647/1555
Health Regen: 71/hour
Mana Regen: 1108/hour
Ability Scores - 0 Points Available
- Agility: 115
- Dexterity: 127
- Spirit: 95
- Strength: 117
- Vitality: 71
- Wisdom: 277
Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 25.19
- Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00
- Paralyzing Gaze - Level 1.40
- Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01
Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 34.65
- Assassinate - Level 6.40
- Bloodthief - Level 3.14
- Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00
- Cloak and Dagger - Level 6.66
- Double Stab - Level 8.16
- Envenom - Level 10.97
- Manathief - Level 1.00
Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 1.15
- Basic Force Manipulation - Level 2.86
- Basic Force Resistance - Level 2.81
- Detect Force Magic - Level 10.93
Unclassed Skills
- Artifact Manipulation - Level 1.00
- Club Mastery - Level 9.39
- Dagger Mastery - Level 7.82
- Dancing - Level 6.02
- Digging - Level 10.27
- English - Level 25
- Llystletein Authority - Level 3.97
- Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 9.62
- Marish - Level 19.02
- Sewing - Level 1.42
- Sneaking - Level 9.83
- Spear Mastery - Level 3.82
- Sword Mastery - Level 6.45
- Throwing - Level 4.80
- Tracking - Level 8.37
- Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 5.16
Chapter 39 - Edge of the Abyss II
Claire sat around for a few moments as she contemplated the goddess’ identity. The blueblood was somewhat familiar with the eternal flow. Allegra, her tutor in the mystic arts, had mentioned the concept on several occasions, but she had never gone into detail. Her countrymen cared little for it; its goddess was rarely mentioned in any notable Cadrian texts.
That, in and of itself, was nothing out of the ordinary. Even powerful gods were often left ignored in regions beyond their influence. The god of the sea, for example, was scarcely named in most landlocked countries, his blessings and condemnations forgotten by all but scholars and the clergy.
Only a small handful of deities lorded over concepts broad enough to be universally acknowledged, and many of them were more notorious than they were widely worshipped. Vella, the goddess of war, was hated by wives from all corners of society. She was often mocked for being a lustful harlot who stole dutiful husbands from their families. Likewise, Builledracht, the god of curses, was labelled an eccentric degenerate that drew pleasure from suffering. Neither were particularly liked, but they were among the most well known, even more reputable than the goddess of order and the divine collective of art and song.
On the other side of the spectrum were gods that presided over very specific topics, areas, or groups. The god of the inner flame, for one, was a well documented case of an immortal that revealed himself only to those already in tune with his ideals. He would have remained largely unknown, had one of his believers not been the head of a state.
Claire wasn’t sure which of these umbrellas her patron deity fell under. Her awareness of the eternal flow appeared to suggest that the goddess was either somewhat influential or a notable outlier of sorts, but she couldn’t recall which. Whatever the case, the halfbreed was left with an unanswered question she couldn’t ignore: why?
She simply didn’t understand the reason the Goddess was supposedly in charge of her. The eternal flow wasn’t something her mother had ever mentioned, which was to say it likely was just as uninfluential in Sthenia as it was in Cadria. To Claire’s knowledge, there hadn’t been any extenuating circumstances with regards to her birth either. She was a rare mix of species, but that alone was no reason for an unknown god to swoop in and claim her. She should have, by all means, been born under Vella’s star, like her father, or Krebb’s, like her mother.
The question of her patron’s identity was one she had asked before, but the ever practical Duke Augustus had blocked her from uncovering it. As far as her father was concerned, Builledracht was the only one deserving of her faith. And that was precisely why she had none whatsoever.
In the end, Claire found herself unable to come up with any clues, so she set the thought aside and opened her supposedly new and improved log. Her first impression was that nothing had changed, but a smaller box popped up after a brief delay. It was much like the panel that appeared whenever she wanted to look at a skill’s finer details, only its contents didn’t need to be read. They read themselves before she could even start to eye them.
Congratulations. You have been blessed by the ever lovely goddess of the eternal flow. This is a rare privilege that few will ever experience. Frankly, you are undeserving.
The paragraph was narrated in the goddess’ voice, the words said in a flattened tone that could only be described as bland and indifferent.
This blessing’s effect is very simple and even you may be capable of understanding it. Your log is now fitted with a voice module. You will no longer need to read any entries. All of them will be spoken to you in my voice. Please be aware that this feature cannot be disabled.
Thanks, Box. I hate it already.
The purpose of this feature is to build your faith in me. May you never forget to whom it is you belong.
One curse was bad enough... Claire closed her log as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Why are all these stupid immortals forcing all these weird things on me?
Heaving another sigh, she pulled up her status and recalled an older problem, the distribution of her ability scores. She had been stuck on it for the whole trip back to the den, but the power nap had helped her make up her mind. Wisdom was the answer.
The rogue knew very little about force magic and she knew even less about spirit guardians, but if other schools were to be considered, then any spell that required a thousand mana was sure to be well worth the expense. A water spell with such a cost could wash away a small village, whereas a wood-based one could uproot and relocate several dozen trees. They were spells that only the ascended could use, as few mages under level 50 could muster up enough magical power to afford them. Not without some sort of sacrifice.
Claire didn’t quite have all of the mana she needed either, but if her mental math was correct, spending 43 of the 46 points she had on hand would get her just enough to cast it once.
Following through on the investment, however, proved that she was incorrect. Her total capacity nearly doubled, jumping from 872 to 1555.
Wait, where did all that mana suddenly come from? She blinked a few times before she flicked her tongue in realisation. 250 must have been another threshold. So that’s… 100, then 250? Is the next one…uhmmmm... 625? That can’t be right, can it? It seems like too weird of a number.
While she was surprised by the sudden jump in her stats, she didn’t find the phenomenon itself all that startling. Thresholding was one of the few concepts that her lessons had more or less hammered into her; it was both the reason her mana was so much higher than her health, as well as why her body had suddenly felt as light as a feather as soon as she got her strength and agility over 100.
After taking another look at her stats and allocating her three remaining points to vitality, the halfbreed spent a few moments eyeing her untested spell. Despite making a hefty investment, she found herself hesitant to cast it. Its name was what bothered her. She couldn’t help but suspect that her guardian spirit would be in some way related to her patron deity, and she had already had more than enough of the goddess for one day.
“I really shouldn’t.”
Despite muttering the correct decision under her breath, she went against her better judgement and cast the spell. The magical energy that was expelled from her body took up a familiar shape atop her left shoulder. The entity that formed was long and thin, with its body coiled around her forelimb and its head poking out from underneath the pit of her arm.
“Hey, remember me?”
The snake spoke to her. And for once, it wasn’t just her imagination. She could feel its weight, as well as the hair-raising sensation of its scales against hers.
“I haven’t had any chances to show up lately, with that fox around, but I’m back,” it said.
There was a moment of silence. Claire stared blankly at the serpent while it returned her gaze with the smuggest face a reptile could manage. The ten seconds that elapsed were the only ten that the snake remained. Because that was how long it took for the mage’s mind to finally catch up with her. Her face contorting in disgust, she cancelled the spell and banished the spirit.
“Why would you dismiss me!? Summon me again! Summon me right now!”
The make-believe predator poofed back into existence, right where it had vanished. But this time, its form was incorporeal.
“Go away. You’re not allowed to be real.”
Claire waved it off her, scattering the smoky substance that was its body to the winds. She knew it could come back immediately, if it really wanted, but the conversation-ending cue was one that they had used for a decade already. It was sure to be well aware that she wasn’t in the mood to deal with its shenanigans.
Shoulder snakes aren't real. Shoulder snakes are not real. Shoulder snakes named Shouldersnake are definitely not real.
Having convinced herself of the whole unadulterated truth, the halfbreed picked up a random cloak and began cutting away at the cloth. She punched a few holes in the hood so there was enough space for her ears and trimmed the rest down to a suitable size. The shoulders had to be sewn closer together so that the mantle wouldn’t fall off the moment she pulled the hood back, and she even removed the sleeves outright. They were unnecessary, more prone to getting in the way than they were helpful.
Log Entry 859
You have acquired the Sewing skill.
Please stop talking, Box. Your voice is already starting to get really annoying.
Her ears caught signs of movement right as she picked up a second cloak. Rapid light footsteps approached the den, culminating in the form of a fox sticking its head through the entrance.
“Hey Claire, I’m a little early, but I’m back!” The words were muffled, in part because the furball had a fish in her mouth. “Wait, I thought you were supposed to be asleep? Weren’t you tired? I thought you said you were going to bed.”
"I slept already."
“Really? I thought you were going to be asleep a lot longer. You were out for a whole turn and a half, last time.”
The bluescale shrugged.
“Well, I guess this is even better since now I don’t have to bury the fish I got you. I just nabbed it out of the water, so it should still be really tasty. Wanna try eating it?”
She placed what looked like a carp on top of the leather cloak. It wasn’t that large of a catch, as it was small enough for the fox to hold it, but what it lacked in size, it made up with in vigour. The oxygen-deprived morsel continued to flop around until Sylvia put it down and pressed both her front paws on top of its face.
“Maybe later.”
“But it’ll start tasting kind of funny later! Fish tastes best when you eat it right after you catch it, so if you’re gonna eat it, now’s the best time.”
“Then you can have it. I don’t want it right now.”
“Are you really sure? You won’t be able to find any tasty fish for a while if you’re stuck hanging around borrok peak.”
Claire nodded.
“Okay, then I’ll just eat this one myself.”
Sylvia devoured the tiny carp in the blink of an eye. It only took her two bites, even though it looked like she would have needed four or five, given the size of her mouth. Even stranger was that the fox consumed the entire creature. The bones, scales, and fins were all swallowed alongside the flesh and entrails.
“Oh, are those the clothes you said you were going to work on?” Sylvia licked her lips as she looked over the pile. “How come you’re working on one of the cloth ones? Isn’t this leather one over here way better?”
“No. It doesn’t fit.”
“Huh? Why not? All you have to do is cut it up a little, right?”
“It’s a runecloak. It’ll fix itself.”
“Oh… That’s a real shame then. It probably has some sort of really cool ability.”
“Maybe,” said Claire, as she moved onto a third cloak.
“I wonder what it is. Maybe it’ll let you fly, or maybe it’ll make it so you can breathe fire! I hope it’s not one of the lame ones that just makes you a better fighter or something. Dad said he used to have one that made it so that his spells cost a lot less mana, but apparently he had to sell it to pay back a debt or something.”
“Does your father know any tailors?”
"Ummmm... I don't know if he does, but I do, and I know you do too!"
“I do?” Claire looked up from her work.
“Yeah, it’s Grant! Though I don’t think he’s gonna do it because he already found out about the shovel and stuff, and he’s really mad. Fishing took three times as long as usual because he kept shouting at me and scaring all the prey away!”
“Let’s ask him anyway.”
“I don’t really know if that’s a good idea.”
“I’m good at negotiating.”
“Really? It kinda doesn’t seem like it…”
Claire rolled her eyes before turning them back to Sylvia. “Wait.”
“What?”
“If he’s a tailor… does that mean you wear clothes?”
“Of course not, silly! Why would a fox ever wear anything?”
“Not wearing clothes is indecent,” she said, as she swapped her older, ruined cloak out for a newer one.
“No it’s not! Our fur covers everything!”
“I’m sure it does,” said Claire. “Will we make it back by nightfall if we leave now?”
“I doubt it, but it’s on the way to Borrok Peak, so we can go tomorrow mornin—hey, wait a second! I’m not indecent!”
“Whatever you say.” The force mage smiled, faintly, as she began working on yet another article of clothing.
Sylvia might know what the goddess’ name is… but I don’t want to ask her. I don’t need her teasing me.
___
Claire
Health: 312/312
Mana: 647/1555
Health Regen: 71/hour
Mana Regen: 1108/hour
Ability Scores - 0 Points Available
- Agility: 115
- Dexterity: 127
- Spirit: 95
- Strength: 117
- Vitality: 71
- Wisdom: 277
Racial Class: Halfbreed - Level 25.19
- Lashing Tailstrike - Level 1.00
- Paralyzing Gaze - Level 1.40
- Quadrupedal Bloodrush - Level 1.01
Primary Class: Llystletein Rogue - Level 34.65
- Assassinate - Level 6.40
- Bloodthief - Level 3.14
- Charm Catgirl - Level 1.00
- Cloak and Dagger - Level 6.66
- Double Stab - Level 8.16
- Envenom - Level 10.97
- Manathief - Level 1.00
Secondary Class: Llystletein Force Mage - Level 1.15
- Basic Force Manipulation - Level 2.86
- Basic Force Resistance - Level 2.81
- Detect Force Magic - Level 10.93
Unclassed Skills
- Artifact Manipulation - Level 1.00
- Club Mastery - Level 9.39
- Dagger Mastery - Level 7.82
- Dancing - Level 6.02
- Digging - Level 10.27
- English - Level 25
- Llystletein Authority - Level 3.97
- Makeshift Weapon Mastery - Level 9.62
- Marish - Level 19.02
- Sewing - Level 1.42
- Sneaking - Level 9.83
- Spear Mastery - Level 3.82
- Sword Mastery - Level 6.45
- Throwing - Level 4.80
- Tracking - Level 8.37
- Unarmed Combat Mastery - Level 5.16
