Solo Ultimate Protection

[Eridanus]

Day 34, Fall of 512 AV
Eighth Bell
Eri's Tent, Campsite at the outskirts of Sunberth

Many events had occurred the previous day, with the surprising appearance of two certain bathhouse owners who turned out to be more than what they seemed to be, and an arrangement with the Night Eyes. Eridanus was glad to steer the discussion to be one of a more strategically viable nature, though he had to keep his eyes on Markus Andres and Imass more. As warriors and combatants they were impeccable, yet as leaders their understanding of strategy was limited by their personal ideals. It was one thing to charge in and die by one's own foolishness, but was another to lead hundreds or thousands to their deaths and to doom magnitudes even more to the same fate.

Even if he had not been hired as a consultant for the Knights in this quest, he would have spoken out against the previous costly plan. Even if his gods did not demand him to this righteous course of action - to illuminate and save those unable or unwilling to save themselves - his rational side that calculated costs and benefits would compel him to do so. There was no honor, nor logic, in heading straight to death on a useless ideal.

The Captain had invested him to protect the diplomatic mission that he was going to be sent with, but before he could do so he had to ensure his own safety. A brief scan of his own astral defences left much to be desired - loopholes all over the place and varying levels of unsynchronized behavior was beginning to show in the different layers of stacked shields.

This was the day to properly contemplate on building the ultimate protective device for himself, and it was perfect. While his previous shields had to be built piece by piece, layer by layer, at night while they were on the move, this time there was no rush. The Syliran Detachment had already reached Sunberth, though for practical reasons they set up camp on the outskirts of the anarchic city instead of entering it unnecessarily. After yesterday, they basically had free time while the higher-ups discussed strategies and organized logistics. That meant that he had the entire day to meditate and concentrate, and he planned to maximize it to the fullest.

Before him on the floor he laid out an assortment of accessories and equipment, all the materials and resources that would be consumed in his latest attempt at making a proper form of protection for himself. It was further essential that he needed it, considering the permanent damage that he suffered while back in Alvadas. He was no longer the being that he was, and so the only thing he could do was to compensate for it.

Receipt :

[Eridanus]

Thirty Chimes Past the Eighth Bell

The scholar sat cross-legged on top of his bedroll in the far end of his tent away from the entrance, his shirt folded neatly before him. The cool air tingled his bare skin, but it was not too cold to be uncomfortable, due to the shelter provided by his tent. Slowly, he separated his mind from his body, feeling the effects and functions of his physical shell fade gradually as he sought the tranquil corner in his mind. He wanted to be in a calm and neutral state of mind so that he could be unfazed by any distracting, current concerns. What better place to do so than in the midst of meditation?

Though he could project a sphere of pure djed in an instant, he also knew that there was no benefit in haste. Ideally, magic should never be attempted or performed in a rushed environment, less for emergencies. The ideal laboratory situation would be one such as this, with ample time and no rush, with the mind and body prepared in a receptive and relaxed state. That would enable optimal results and prevent the risk of accidents.

Surging his mind inward to find the astral structure of his soul, he began to grasp at the resource that was his life essence. Just as djed was the basis of his soul's body - or its astral shell - by his command the djed would also be the basis of his body's shell. It was poetic in a way, in that the same essence was linked to both his mundane and arcane identities, while serving as the external barrier and layer in both.

With a soft sigh, the ethaefal could almost imagine hearing his soul shudder as he plunged a metaphorical hand into the astral shell, scooping the substance out and dividing a path to bridge the imaginary and tangible. Forming a path that was both conceptual and material, he created the path that would allow him to tap into the djed from his astral shell, bringing the arcane resource into reality, spreading it out before him.

Similar to how his djed formed the structure of his soul, so did the mage pattern the structure of the realized djed that lay floating and untasked before him. The strengths of his soul would manifest in the shape of his manifested djed, and so would the flaws expose his imperfections. That was how he shaped and commanded his djed to form, to wrap around his body like a comfortable layer just as how his body wrapped around his soul. There was to be no leak or weakness in the coverage, and his meticulous efforts guaranteed so.

[Eridanus]

Thirty Chimes Past the Ninth Bell

Thus, the arcane construct was created and prepared, an empty canvass laid out before the methodical ethaefal. It was the instrument that would direct the moonchild to paths that he might not want to tread upon. It was the tool that might protect him from paths that he would not want to tread upon. It was the manifestation of a portion of his destiny, the shepherd's staff and the guiding stick of the blind. And he would have a choice in the direction of this destiny.

And so Eridanus was the singer of fates, and as a musician his practiced hands would flit and linger upon the keyboards of probabilities. His mind was ready, and his hands were outstretched as if to play an imaginary pipe organ - gestures helped immensely in freeing the mind from the more mundane aspects of magic and to allow for greater freedom in the boundaries of thinking.

And so he sang, his fingers playing upon the metaphorical instrument of decisions and choice, weaving both the arcane threads that formed the djed shell and that of the strings of fate.

"The first commandment, do return to your roots.
Just as what you were formed from, so will you accept
to bolster your strength.
Unity in concept, unity in reality;
What does not harms you only makes you stronger."

The fallen being's voice was melodious in a rough way that spoke of an untrained musical nature, yet characteristic of the inherent musicality prevalent in Morwen's children. With his song he worked, the words providing the necessary reinforcement for the deed to take place. And thus his shield should protect him from the very substance it was made of - djed, and that all failed attempts to overwhelm it with that substance would be assimilated and incorporated.

[Eridanus]

Tenth Bell

Though djed was the start-all and end-all of life and reality, it was not the sole embodiment of the will and wishes of men and of nature. Just as water made itself known as snow and ice, so then was djed a two-sided coin or a multiple sided die. Its shape and form changed with the times and function, and it would be foolish to simply discount such a consideration.

Drawing from his own experience, the scholar delved into the core of his memories that kept emotions in a tightly lidded box. Over the times, he had learned to relax his iron grip on his emotions. Understanding that passion and anger can sometimes be effective fuel for certain disciplines of magic, he at least attempted to manage his emotions just as if it was just another variable in the magic casting formula.

A brief moment of hesitation was the only pause that occurred, before he took a deep breath and relaxed the lid on the emotional Pandora's Box. With his resolve he targeted a portion of his soul, coaxing it out gently. Memories of the ritual lacerations given to him by a somber wizard in an anarchistic city came to mind, and he reflexively glanced at his wrists. His nature could not be forgotten, in the form of a complete absence of scars, blemishes or imperfections despite circumstances and consequences.

As he exhaled he drew forth from his inner self, expelling not just the djed that he grasped but also the associated emotions of passion that he assigned to it. It was his passion for magic, his hope for this range of arcane disciplines that promised evolution and progress for civilization, and that served as a mark of possible personal salvation. This hope materialized together with his djed in the form of a smattering of res, an indeterminate glowing cluster of pure white substance that resembled what moonbeam would look like if it were somehow made tangible.

Unite the two, and accept the moon into your folds.

Watching the res slowly dissolve as it began to assimilate with the shield around himself, he cleared his throat and began singing softly to bolster his task.

"One formed from one, but another formed from another.
Two with the same mothers but not the same self
but together we understand our similarities
and put aside our differences.
To close one's doors to strangers,
but showing welcome to family;
always unrelentingly strict in all other matters."

The last of the musician's imaginary music faded away with the end of his song, his little finger lifting momentarily from the invisible pipe organ. With his effort he should hopefully protect himself from res - the physical manifestation of djed that was often used in reimancy - but would allow his own res to cross the barrier without difficulty.

[Eridanus]

Thirty Chimes Past the Tenth Bell

There were quite some things to do with djed and magic, but Eridanus put them aside for now. He was not sure how much time he would take in general, and it was more prudent to quickly work on what he actually knew first in case he ran out of time. It was a long stretch to believe so, but alternative plans was the way to go with his methodology.

Humming as he considered the vast canvass that lay around him, the moonchild scraped some skin from an itchier part of his arm, accumulating a bit of his biological material inside of his fingernail. Using his thumb to push it out, he scraped the bit of his skin out onto the shield, willing it to accept the material as a source for his next protective weave.

As the shield flared with the spectrum of Morwen's lights, his biological material began to dissipate as the astral canvass assimilated it, the brilliant display of colors gradually fading to the hue of pure white. The vantha quickly sang, gesturing with his fingers like he was manipulating a marionette.

"I henceforth submit my offerings,
a definition of myself.
Know that there can only be one owner,
and all others spurned away,
Though different in face as one waxes and wanes,
similar in soul and of pure identity.
Then I charge thee to recognize the soul,
submit to me
but lord over the rest."

That was rather well made.

Aside of his self-congratulatory thought, he shifted the invisible threads that made the djed construct, weaving the instruction as he sang. As he was a were-race, he was pretty sure that his biological makeup might change as he shifted. Yet, there should also be some form of his identity in the aura of the djed that lay within his body. That was what he drew upon, instead of just the hair. The djed within the hair provided the source that he required his shield to process, and from there he only allowed himself to pass through the shield while restricting all others from entering it.

What this effectively meant was that, as the shield was hinged around him rather than an object, it was more or less a total biological limitation. The shield followed his movement and therefore it was impossible for him to penetrate his own shield unless he active willed it. That meant that other biological beings would be unable to pass through the shield, and therefore be unable to even touch his body.

[Eridanus]

Eleventh Bell

The scholar's eyes strayed to the corner of his tent, where his two sheathed blades lay propped against each other and the corner of the cloth wall. Even in their inanimate forms, he could almost imagine the killing intent radiating from them, as a testament to how much blood they had shed and how much lives they had taken.

Such lethality. Such power.

Not bothering to rise from his cross-legged position, the mage interrupted his partial trance to reach forward for one of the blades, he drew the blade slowly from its protective home, bringing the edge closer to his body. Positioning it just barely above his skin, it was placed neatly in the midst of the invisible shield that radiated from himself.

Remember this edge, remember it well.

With one hand keeping the sword in position, he used his other hand to gesture about as he picked up in song.

"Regardless of material, regardless of intent,
know where the true focus lay.
Whether it be by steel or by claw,
understand that it's all by Edge.
Strong force or weak grip,
large swings or tiny punctures,
defend against all, protect against every.
Dull the edge of the other, and dull their resolve,
and we shall all remain at peace."

As he sang to a point, the presence of the blade was no longer needed as he managed to weave the meaning of the sharpness of the edge into the astral sphere around him. Laying it gently onto the ground, he freed up the other hand to pluck at the djed threads more efficiently, like an imaginary conductor before an orchestra.

With this, he should be able to be protected against bladed weaponry.

Blade Resistance.

Regardless of the material or type of weapon, or techniques such as slashing and stabbing and the related strength involved, the shield should be able to hold up and prevent them from crossing its barrier and into his flesh. Of course, powerful enchanted weapons might be able to pierce his magic, but he did not intend to walk around casually anyway. His shields were meant to be a last-resort life-saver and he fully intended to avoid and fight as if he had no magical protection.

[Eridanus]

Half a Bell before Noon

Next, it would be pertinent to defend himself against attacks made from a distance. He recalled the devastation caused by the Enchanted Slingshot of Flame Amplification back in Alvadas, as well as the lethal effectiveness of the expert longbow archer Antar. It hardly seem fair to him to have a fight over even before he could get in range. Fortunately, he was blessed enough to gain access to this form of magic, and this would be precisely what he would prevent.

Reaching into his bag beside his bedroll, one hand fumbled randomly as he sought a rough tube-like wrapped cloth substance, removing it from the bag once found. It was the bundle of crossbow bolts he kept as a remembrance from that fateful guard duty he had with Zenai and Antar in Sunberth. Due to luck, even as a novice in archery he managed to take one or two bandits down. It was testament to the danger and power of ranged weaponry.

Similar to how he held the long sword in place earlier, he placed the bolt before his skin as if it would pierce him, but held it just above so that it would coincide with the shimmering astral shell that enveloped him. With his other hand, he gestured around mystically as if he were a stage actor about to make a theatrical whisper.

"Notice this substance, now notice its concept.
Ignore its form but realize its purpose.
Regardless of material or shape,
the method of murder remains constant.
Thus project thy grace beyond materialism,
seek further and beyond tangibility
to deny access to weapons hurled from afar
and protect the weak unable to react."

Having already removed the bolt half-way, the scholar glanced at his resulting weave, unsure if he had achieved what he wished to do. There were simply too many possibilities in the world in terms of materials used for projectiles, as well as different forms of projectiles. For once he already knew of arrows, which bow archers use while crossbowmen used bolts.

With that in mind, he reprogrammed his shield in a similar way to how he instructed it to task against bladed weapons. By bringing the bolt into a category under projectile weapons, the shield should hopefully deflect such long distance attacks and allow him the chance to close the distance and eliminate the threat. By including the possibilities of projectiles regardless of strength and speed of the threats, together with the original sharp resistance it should block against spears and throwing daggers as well.

Hopefully.

[Eridanus]

Noon

There were things to protect from, and there were things that would be too impractical to do so. Metal, for example. The astral construct was wrapped so tightly around his physical body, it could be said that it was closer in proximity to his skin than his slightly loose clothes. The reason why his clothes could still fit comfortably was because he did not task against cloth, therefore allowing the djed barrier and the linen material to not interact and get in each other's way.

Refrain from paranoia, seek pragmatism, and understand properly the purpose of this project.

Sighing, Eridanus turned his attention to his fingers, which seem larger to him than usual while in this partially dream-like state. Somehow, when one's eyes were wide open and properly conscious in the midst of a meditative trance, everything that his senses received seemed to be exaggerated. The soft touch of his pants, the cool air flirting with his topless torso, the sound of his breathing intermingled with the voices of people outside, even the shapes and sizes of objects around him.

Placing his finger in the middle of his chest, he felt an uncomfortable tingle as he prepared himself mentally for what he planned to do. He did not like it, but he had to be prepared for such an eventuality.

Activation to absorption mode; understand the arrival of a Source.

Taking a deep breath to calm his tangled nerves, the scholar made sure to contact the tip of his finger with the shield around himself. Though it had been tasked against biologicals, the sole exception allowed was himself, therefore he was able to penetrate the barrier like so.

Opening his mind as a first step, this imagery allowed him to relax his soul and body even further, becoming attuned to the concept of receptivity. Like drawing water from a well, the mage imagined his finger to be the receiving bucket, retrieving the water of djed from the pool that was the barrier. Instead of reimancy where he expelled djed with force, it was more of a forced compulsion. His body and soul reviled at such an act, shuddering at the thought of being intruded by foreign and alien djed. It was similar in a way to a Reimancer's Initiation Ritual, except slightly worse knowing that one had to embrace and integrate his body with the poison of foreign djed.

The uncomfortable cold flood of energy through his veins did not come, for somehow shields were innately protected against low level leechers. Still, he knew that powerful leechers remained a problem, and this act formed the example he needed to use as a source for his next tasking.

"The pull of life from thy essence,
a vile withdrawal by forced compulsion,
when one seeks to drain from the pool,
take heed of that brash insistence."

Take that leeching attempt into account, use that as an example to cover the idea of leeching.

"While the weak may be denied from receiving from the well,
the strong may go against the natural order with personal strength.
Therefore thou shall deny even such an attempt.
For every ounce of strength
thou shall add strength in the opposite direction;
the natural way.
And so the harder the strong tries,
the harder it becomes
until the difficulty overwhelms, all fails, and balance is returned."

It was slightly harder than usual to pull this off, as it was not a simple tasking against a tangible material, or even against djed. It was a combination, for leeching was essentially using djed to create an attractive vacuum that pulled other djed in the direction of the leecher. As he did not know the proper language that could fully describe the discipline, he was unable to do so.

Therefore the leeching attempt he performed was meant to serve as an example, complete with further elaboration as he weaved the threads of protection. Against higher level leechers the shield may not hold, just as it may not hold against immensely powerful swordsmen. Yet, it should hopefully pose a larger difficulty to them than normal, preventing it from being an easy energy source for such vile wizards.

[Eridanus]

Half a Bell Past Noon

And so if one draws from his knowledge, one must be thorough.

If Eridanus was considered a complete newbie in the questionable art of leeching, then he should be considered as a much more experienced novice in reimancy. Using the two simultaneously was out of the question, for they were such polar opposites that it would require the utmost concentration to succeed while executing both in concerted action. Even attempting to do one after the other required intense focus for him to completely forget the feeling of the previous, and to only dwell on the present. There was nothing more dangerous than trying to pull in djed while expelling res.

As the mage raised his hand to begin, he faltered, hesitation evident in his actions.

Is it too dangerous to have them so close to each other?

The muscle memory of attempted leeching was still fresh on his mind, and he was afraid of mixing the methodological concepts of the two. Staying his hand, he decided to postpone it to late, instead drawing from another discipline that would not conflict.

The discipline that he was most familiar with.

Flux.

While the vantha himself was unable to do so, he was aware of the ability of powerful flux users. They were able to disrupt the flux streams in others upon mere touch, which made it a sort of reverse fluxing, so to speak. Of course, there were more than one way in which a normal flux user would be able to disrupt the djed streams within his own body, and that was the use of flux-empowered glyph traps. Flux was one of the more dangerous disciplines to induce overgiving with. While his biological limitation of his astral shell prevented physical contact, he was unsure if the glyph traps or master flux practitioners would be able to instead disrupt the djed infrastructure of his shield.

It is always better to prepare for the worst.

Fortunately, he had a vast array of knowledge regarding this ancient Suvan art, and so it would be easier than the others when it came to weaving the correct pattern of instructions.

A rough song came to mind, the words appearing upon his lips as his mind drew from past memories and experiences of the powerful magic. And so the poet resumed into his standard meditative pose, beginning to feel the familiar rush of the magic preparing to flood his body.

Therein lay the problem.

Flux was an internal art, manifesting only within the practitioner's body. By invoking the magic within his body, there was no way he could get the flux streams to interact with the shield that was outside his body. Lacking the ability of master fluxers, he was unable to induce 'reverse fluxing' to provide a source for the shield as well.

Which is where glyphs come in.

Breaking his trance momentarily, Eridanus reached into his bag to retrieve his artist's toolkit. Taking a crayon from it, he drew a circle on the cloth sheet of his tent before him. Proceeding calmly and carefully, he drew several sigils along the length of the circle, first forming a barrier glyph. In the midst of empty circle, the mage continued to draw select symbols, interlocking them to create the important focus glyph that would be the crux of his round-about plan. Finally, he finished with several lines from both the present glyphs, linking them to a a smaller circle he drew to the side of the large circle. Within that small circle he drew definitions and clarifications in Nader-Canoch, creating the trigger glyph that would lower the barrier for the spell contained within the focus to release with the key word "Activate".

Placing a finger upon the empty focus glyph, the vantha summoned the maelstrom of vindictive energies from his soul, redirecting several streams at random. Instead of receiving the effect on his body, the method itself was absorbed by the focus glyph, leaving his body untouched. Essentially, what was stored in the unorthodox scroll was the methodology of the flux. Upon release the affected person would absorb these flux methodologies to effect the body.

Next, he placed his finger an inch away from the focus glyph, yet making sure that the shield coincides with the currently glowing circle.

"Activate."

There was a low humming sound as ancient rules of reality were activated, facilitating the whir of energy from the glyph to his body. The transfer of flux redirection was from an external source to within his body, therefore the shield was the intermediary which would interact with the transference.

Thereby enabling the crucial interaction between the two in order to define a source.

In the midst of the transference, Eridanus quickly expelled the words building up in his mind, along with the mental procedures that he had been preparing so far.

"Feel the energies coursing through,
An internal disturbance
but flowing from without.
Deny any invitation from such chaos
and maintain thy resolve against this interference.
And so with my presentation,
consider not just this single instance
but against the entire family."

As the last of the magic was drained from the glyph, the scholar watched the once-off glyph began to fade from the cloth as it lost its utility. It took little effort to return his body's djed streams to the default optimal, though he felt slightly drained from the effort.

His stomach growled.

Time for a lunch break and to rest my mind.

With this effort, he could hopefully prevent flux-empowered glyph traps from affecting his body and forcing him into overgiving, as well as protecting his shield from being disrupted forcefully. Yet, within the instructions he placed an exception that would make it a one-way traffic: Flux could jump from inside to out, but not from outside to in, similar to how the design of his tasking against Res.

[Eridanus]

Thirteenth Bell

Lunch was a quick affair, for the members of the hunting party had already returned with their catch. Eridanus merely helped with the gathering of firewood, and helping to create the fire with a little struggle of res production, and the activation spark needed to get a small fire going.

Fanning the small flames, he eventually managed to produce enough to cook the meat in a stew. The rest of the members had of course diligently prepared the meat as he did so. It was excellent practice for him in reverting the muscle memory of leeching - of res absorption rather than res expulsion - but he finally got over the memory and was able to slowly produce the res that he needed.

The lunch was consumed with little fuss, with him helping to clear up the rest of the burning logs and to bury the viscera of the gutted remains. However, he did borrow a small hammer from one of the members of the party, giving the excuse that he needed to study the weapon for its intricate craftsmanship (it was a lie) and for the man to retrieve his weapon from the front of Eri's tent in about half a bell's time.

With that, he excused himself back to his tent with the weapon in tow and with his hunger satiated.