| Present day Ortal's home, The Spires The writer scribbles and scribbles, constantly dipping his quill into the ink well. The memories flow right from his mind onto the paper as he writes. There is the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he's penning down things as they come to him. Every bit of memory sparks more memories and keeps him going. The writer seems happy, focused on his task at hand. Whatever he's writing gives him pleasure, although the reason for said pleasure is unknown. |
| Winter, 18th, Year 464 Great Library, Sahova The Undrykas is flipping pages of the book. He was in the library again, as the master and his few remaining apprentices were working hard to meet their deadline. The Undrykas had been uninvited by the master for a few days so as soon as he woke up, he went to the library. It was one of the few places where nobody immediately threw him out. With the lab being off limits for him for now, the Undrykas just wandered around, often picking out books from the shelves and flipping through the pages. Most often he put the book back since there was nothing that he could learn from it. His mastery of the language used was close to non existant and the lack of images didn't make it any easier. But now he had found a good book. One that had enough pictures in it for him to understand at least a little of it. Morphing said the title of the book, according to the Undrykas' limited Nadar Canoch. There was a list of words, the index of the book, and then a long text that he couldn't understand. But it want on after that with pictures and descriptions. He was looking at the pictures and reading the nadar canoch text over and over again, trying to associate words with the pictures. His vocabulary did help here as he knew already quite a few of the words, enough to help him get ahead in the book. The first picture was cut in half. One end was a drawing of a human, the other picture one of a humanoid creature with hair and claws, like a wolf but standing on it's back legs. Slowly but surely, the Undrykas worked his way through the text next to the image. Morphing is... something... that something... change or alter... something... self. Morphing is magic, perhaps, that allows or permits to change or alter... oneself? Themself? Itself? So morphing is magic to change yourself. Interesting. So that's the word for magic. Or skill, maybe. And this one would be permission or allow. Stupid. Of course, Djas is self. I knew that. At the time, the Undrykas remembered that he still spoke in his own language to himself, reading out loud in Pavi. Back then, he hadn't come to rely on the usage of common yet. Then there was a series of four pictures, each with a more changed human on the right side of the picture. The text on the left was long and tedious but from what little words he did understand, combined with the pictures, the Undrykas managed to learn that different masteries of the magical skill allowed one to change different amounts of their body. The last picture had a small human on the left and a large winged and horned creature on the right, much larger and completely unhumanoid, except for it standing on its back legs. From the last passage and the image, he could determine that high level morphers could change beyond their normal shape. High level... morphers? or practitioners of morphing? are not... Randjaq is... prison and... limit of something. Limited. Limited to..." The Undrykas reached for his pocket, taking out the small notebook that he had in there at all times. It contained drawings of circles and images in it and, starting from the back, it had lists of words in one language on one side and translated in Pavi and Common on the other side. His fingers quickly slid over the words trying to find the right one. "Daeq... Daeq was something along the lines off... Ah. Shape. So High level morphers, although I'm not sure of that word, are not limited to shape. Hmm... That can't be right. Morphing is to change shapes so why would only high level morphers not be limited in shape?" The Undrykas continued on reading the passage. The page ended and he flipped it over, continuing onto the next one. Each sentence provided him with difficulties, new words to translate, old words to look up once more, variations of words to write down in his little notebook and remember. The images helped a lot. They often showed him more than the little bit of text he could translate did. The image next to the humanoid figure was much larger and had wings and giant claws and teeth. And horns or something. The text read along the lines of "forms can be created from the mind but [the word here he couldn't translate] are easier to start from and allow for quicker/faster morphings." The Undrykas continued to talk to himself, as it helped him to understand things better. He often used nadar Canoch words out loud to try and get a better feel for them, especially the ones that he had just learned. "So there is a something... which I don't have any idea of, that allows a Dalat to change shape quicker. So that would mean there are two ways of Dalat. One from the mind, which is slower and more difficult and one from the... something. Which is quicker." The Undrykas scribbled the word down on the side of his notebook, so he would remember it later and ask someone, if he ever had the time to do so. The text went on to describe the something that allowed easier morphing. At the time, and for quite some time after that, the Undrykas would keep using the word something until he found out the meaning of the word. The explanation for the morphing was quite clear, even without the images. It all came down to seperating one from oneself and then reshaping oneself before reconnecting. For the first time in a long time, the Undrykas looked forward to trying it. This would be something he would flow through easily. There were certain things in his life that had seemingly prepared him for this. Seperate one from oneself. It took the Unrykas a few seconds to do so. The book read that it took weeks and weeks of something, a word that the Undrykas didn't understand. He managed to get the meaning from the rest of the sentence. Not eating, fasting. Meditation and emptying of the mind were also mentioned. The Nadar canoch read 'no mind'. But the Undrykas was convinced that wasn't what was needed to morph. All of that would have been required. But to the Undrykas it took only a few seconds. Most of those seconds were used to sit up straight. He looked at himself, his spirit self sitting in the lotus position in front of his physical self, a complete mirrored image of himself. Where to start? He looked at his eyes and hair, moved down, where he rested for a moment on the bruise on his cheek and moved further down to his chin and neck, where the imprint of fingers could still be seen. The mirrored spirit wasn't as beaten up, the marks of fists and fingers not showing on his spirit. From another person's point of view, the book moved on its own, flipping pages. There were no clear instructions on how to morph. There was a lot of mention of that something he had discovered earlier, that allowed for easier morphing, but beside that trial or practice seemed to pop up most. So the Undrykas left the book for now, leaving it between his spiritual and physical body. He tilted his head slightly, the spirit head not the physical head, as that was entirely disconnected. It was a good trick, one he used quite often. Lock the joints and support yourself in such a way that your body doesn't collapse in on itself as soon as your spirit leaves it. It allows for easier reconnecting, mostly because you don't have to guess which arm is the right one to connect to. Or untangle it from the rest of your body. Nor were there any accidental breakages. It happened. The Undrykas observed himself. Start out small. Claws? Teeth? Claws going wrong wouldn't be so bad as teeth. The Undrykas focused on his own hand and imaged himself with claws. His hand would be more stringy, longer fingers, thinner fingers and his nails with cover the entire end of them, ending in a half curl, sharp and deadly. And he would use it to kill. He already knew who, but he would have to practice much more first. It wasn't really possible to close his eyes and enter his mind as that was what he was. His entire spirit body was his mind. Unblinking spirit eyes stared at his fingers and hand, trying to image them differently. The image he had was quite realistic, fueled by previous studies, shaped into realistic claws on one hand. But there would be more necessary than this. Years of practice in different magical studies allowed him to manipulate his djed with more ease than most people his age. The Djed moved into his hand, willed by the young man. It gathered there and seeped into his body, in his skin, his muscles, his flesh, his nails. His entire hand was filled with Djed, swirling around as he pushed it into certain shapes, trying to force it to shape the physical body it was contained in. Being out of his own body, he couldn't feel anything of it happening but he did watch as his hand did absolutely nothing. The Undrykes let out a spirit sigh, which was nothing. The spirit sat inside of the body, making sure it was comfortable before he started to reconnect himself. The Undrykas connection speed was slower than his disconnection speed. Past events had taught him the hard way. He was careful about his spirit reconnecting and made sure to align every bit of spirit to his physical body. The lack of pain told him that there was no problems. He sat up and stretched his arms and back, getting rid of the strain that sitting up straight without a spirit left on his body. There were cracking noises as he stretched out his back and he let out a content sigh. He looked at his own hand, his nails close to his eyes, giving them a closer look. Perhaps they did look a little bigger. Or maybe he just wanted to see them a little bigger. The Undrykas wiggled his fingers and grabbed the book, placing it back where he had found it and making a note in his little notebook about it. First, check on the master to see if he had any work for the Undrykas. Better to get scolded for interrupting than to get beaten up for not being there every time the master had need of him. |
| Present day Ortal's home, The Spires The writer stops for a moment and puts the quill down, taking his time to flex his old and bony fingers. They always hurt if he uses them for too long periods of time at an end. Leaning back into his desk chair, he reaches for and hooks his finger in the cup of tea standing on the desk. He blows on it for a moment, cooling it down before taking a sip from it. But he doesn't have much time to relax. The memories keep flooding and he doesn't want to forget them again. |
| Winter, 18th, Year 464 Great Library, Sahova The master had no use for him, except to give him a beating for interrupting his project. He was pressed for time, which amused the Undrykas, in some deep and dark part of his own being. He could be of use, more so than some of Master Taren Alter's apprentices, but he would never ask him, nor did he know to ask him. The Undrykas was just a pulser who cleaned the lab. That was all there was to it for the Master. He rubbed over his cheek. It still hurt but it seemed the master had rushed it, his mind occupied by the project and the deadline. The Undrykas smirked. He hoped it would fail and that the master would be cut out. His fingers trailed over the books as he moved along the shelves and shelves in the library. He could ask a golem for information but they didn't seem to react to anything that was alive. So he looked for himself. Books with lots of pictures were the better option here. Since books translated in common or other languages were rare if not exotic in the library. So he needed images to help him get along with the text. Books were pulled out at random and placed back. The subject didn't really matter, the content didn't realy matter as long as it was readable to the Undrykas, in some way. The books came and went, never the one he needed. His finger trailed across more book covers in the hour spent looking for a good book than it had in the rest of his life all together. It stopped and pulled out the next one. He couldn't read the title. He rarely ever could, but sometimes he could extract the title or the general subject from passages in the book. There were a lot of pictures. The Undrykas sat himself down in the middle of the aisle between the shelves of books. He didn't care and nobody would be passing here anyway. The book was opened and he flipped through it, page after page. The images were strange, things he had never seen before, the text explained about them but, as usual, the language he knew didn't allow him to understand all of it. The Undrykas turned the pages back to the beginning and started reading. The text itself was a little too difficult for his limited skill with the language but his eyes were drawn to the images in the book. At first glance they had been drawings of strange objects but the closer he looked to it, the more interesting it became. The drawing became a design and the design became a plan. The notebook and quill were grabbed in no time and the Undrykas started to write, scribbling down on the paper with the quill. He simply copied the designs, pieces with square teeth all around them. Then a long piece with the same teeth at the end, but only for half a circle. And a piece to keep the two together. The design ended with all three of the pieces together, creating a lever. His eyes scanned the text, trying to find the words that returned most often. But his vocabulary didn't allow him to translate it properly. He wrote down the title and place where he had found the book. This one would be tested elsewhere, not in the library. Winter, 18th, Year 464 Undrykas' room, Sahova Wood was something the Undrykas got his hands on easily. Everything that was shipped in the lab of the master was contained in wooden crates and boxes. The master had no use for the wood. Most of it went into the fire, burning even though none of the apprentices nor the master felt the heat or the cold or where bothered by it. Sometimes he needed fire for an experiment or a project. Sometimes he needed it for boiling something or melting it. Whatever wood was left over, the Undrykas was tasked with cleaning it up. And half of that amount was now stacked under his bed or in the small chest he had for clothes. The notebook was on his bed, opened on the pages he had drawn the design on. The knife was in his hand as he cut out large chunks from the wood. It was, in a way, like malediction, but at the same time it wasn't. He had the skills, carving wood had been practiced enough by the Undrykas. Looking at his bed would tell anyone enough about his practices with carving wood. The wood was rounded off, cut into a nice circle. From the circle, squares were cut out, at the edge, creating the teeth like objects around the circle, just like the image. The knife cut through the wood as he sawed with it. Not the best use of a bone carving knife but it was the only tool he had. The Undrykas cut out square after square, dropping them on the floor around him. It looked like the image he had copied. A round circle in the middle and a dozen or so teeth sticking out from it. The hole in the middle would be for later. The lever part would have to look a little differently from the sketch. He didn't have a nice straight stick to cut out from. To make up for that, he took the longest piece of wood he had, flat like a board, and cut out a rudimentary lever. It really was just a square stick. At the end was a little bulb of some kind. From the bulb, he cut the teeth, just like the circle before. Much smaller teeth but enough to match the image. He cut and cut, just following the example, not thinking for himself. The wood chips and squares flew all around, littering the floor around the Undrykas. He held out the lever like it was a club and looked at it. It matched the image. The Undrykas cursed. Now, finished as the lever was, now he saw the mistake. He pushed the lever against the circle. The teeth didn't match. The larger teeth of the circle didn't connect with the smaller ones of the lever, like they were supposed to do, according to the picture. The failed lever clattered over the floor and slid to a halt. No use for failures. The Undrykas picked up another piece of wood and started carving out another makeshift lever. The carving was quick and messy, just chopping off pieces he didn't need. It was just a test after all. Something that had piqued his interest. He had no intention of doing anything apart from this simple lever. Once again he had a lever cut out, with a large half circle at the bottom, ready to be cut out. He placed the half circle's end against the wood circle and measured the size of the teeth. A few experimental cuts and he had a general shape and size for the teeth. He cut into the wood, the first tooth out of the series. He managed to fit it in between two other ones. He rolled the lever further along, cutting out the next tooth. He constantly took out little bits more as he tried to fit the full circle teeth into it. The knife cut and cut, splinters and larger chunks both were dropped on the floor and in his lap as the Undrykas cut away at the wood. He held the lever up, his eyes close to the teeth as he checked them out. The entirity of the wood was quickly cut and there were lots of splinters sticking out from the surface. The teeth fit the other ones this time. With one hand around the lever, the other hand held the wheel with the teeth against it. He moved it up and down, rolling it over the teeth of the lever, watching it work. He held the wheel still this time and pulled the lever. The teeth rolled over the wheel nicely as well. He put the lever down and focused on the wheel. A guess pointed him to the middle of the wheel and he planted the knife in it. A good twist and he pulled it out again before sticking it back in, cross to the previous cut, once more twisting it. With multiple stabs he got a somewhat circular piece out of the middle of the wheel. The lever was next. The two pins were exactly round. The Undrykas looked at them as he tried to push them through the piece of wood he had created for the third part. The wood had two holes in it, one for each pin, one pin for each piece of the puzzle. What had started off as a simple carving exercise and some minor interest had quickly turned into a sizeable side project. With nothing better for it, the Undrykas banged his fist on the pin to get it into the wood. It hurt a lot. But the pin was in the wood at least. For the second pin he used the force of the wood hitting the floor to get it in, hammering the piece of wood on the pin on the ground until it got stuck in it. A quick look at the wood told him it was stable. He turned it over and placed the wood down so that the pins would point up. The hole in the lever was matched over the one pin and the hole in the toothed wheel over the other. They fit. A little test with the wheel and it turned around. A little stuttery but it turned. The teeth of the lever and the wheel connected and tangled in between one another. The Undrykas pulled the lever. The wheel turned. The Undrykas stiffled a cry of success. |
| Present day Ortal's home, The Spires The writer finishes his second read of the parchment. He always checked for mistakes he might have made but more often than not he misses them simply because he was the one who wrote the text. Another sip from his tea allows him to relax for a moment as his mind is empty of memories once again. For most people it would be a terrible thing. For the writer it was a good place to be, something he had gotten used to over time. He took another sip from his tea. |
