Solo Going...

[Konrad Venger]

49th Day of Spring, 516AV - The Traveler's Complex

"Sure yer hand's fit for this?"

"m'sure."

Truth be told, Konrad wasn't, but he'd left it nearly a whole week and couldn't... no, he wouldn't put up with his boredom any longer. Which was ironic, since he'd been a busy bastard in that time.

The Radacke's man. Well, dog, I'm sure some would say. But they don't say it to your face, and that's what matters.

But when the days were done and he was away from his duties, just him and the shadows closing around him... he could still feel it. There was the pain, the fear, the sheer strangeness of what he had become part of. But dwarfing it all, rising like a mountain over this forest of worries, was the realization that he had done it. The memory that he had created flame, just by thinking it.

And when he remembered that night, he felt that surge under his skin again. Second heart, second network of veins, second beat and swell inside him and he yearned. More than gold or food or grog or even the Ethaefal from the caravan.

He wanted that feeling again. That power. But Konrad didn't survive his father, the streets, the gangs, a decades-long profession built around Dira, the Wildlands and well, you get the picture, by being stupid. He needed his teacher. He needed to come back to Trevin.

He took off his jacket and rolled up his white shirt. Small, faint patches of blotchy skin were all that remained on his arm of the overgiving fiasco the night he was initiated. But his hand? That was a little different?

"Lookin' good, aye?"

"Mmmm," Trevin said, and it was a word in its way, for all the reluctance it conveyed. "That hand ain't so much."

"Gonna be careful this time. Lissen out for ya." Konrad didn't bother trying to sound sincere. It didn't fit his voice, his manner, and besides, he'd already got the bulk of what he wanted from Trevin. Faking anything else was just... pointless. "Look, y'know I ain't fuckin' you around. I'll pay attention. Fuck's the point of getting this power if I'm just gonna kill myself wiv it?"

"Kill yourself?" Trevin said with a snort, taking his own jacket off, checking the door to his room and sitting across from Konrad. Same positions as that first night: him on the bed, Konrad on the chair, room sparsely like by the candles before the window. "That's the best thing that could happen. Ain't seen it often, but when a mage don't pay attention, well-"

"Yeah, I get the idea."

"No, you don'." Trein shot back, but Konrad could tell he was resigned to the lesson. He'd got the five gold coins from him before he'd even stepped inside the room, after all, canny sod that he was. "But here you are."

"Aye," Konrad said with a half-smile, extending his hand. "Here I am..."

"Okay. Start focusing."

Konrad didn't need to be told twice. He could feel the growling in his chest, vibrating down his arm. He focused on the scar, the gaping maw that it looked like upon first glance, ignoring the red, puckered burned skin around it. He focused... he felt it moving in his body... thought of it flowing down his arm... and then up-

"There we go."

The green gas rose from his hand, like his solid, callused skin was just a veil of cloud it was passing through. For a few ticks it just floated, wispy as smoke, until he willed... and it changed direction... condensing and coming together first in a whirl, and then it had dimensions, shape.

A tiny ball of green with slashes of black running across it. Now he just had to-

"Don't."

Konrad's jaw twitched. He didn't like that tone, not from a man who wasn't paying him (and even then, it'd better be hefty). Then he remembered the pain, the shock, the ball of flame bursting on the floor...

His eyes flickered down. The blackened boards were still there. Reminding him.

"Just let it build... and slowly. You've made a marble. That's good. Now... keep adding to it. Until it's about the size of a catching ball."

Konrad didn't have much of an idea of how big that was, so just settled for "bigger until told otherwise". He breathed and gods, he felt a tremor through his ribs, like some beast flapping its wings and the gush shuddered through him. There was no pain. Not yet, anyway. So he enjoyed the moment, drew more and more gas... and grew the ball.

Training Fee-5gm

[Konrad Venger]

Trevin supposed that if he had to be playing teacher, it was good that he was starting from the beginning. Curious, how it was awakening old memories in him, just be watching one who was new to djed. Recollections that were blurry and grey were suddenly alive with color again, and the carter was sure there was a special god thats aw to it Konrad Petching Venger was stirring them for him.

"Good... Good.."

He didn't know what else to say as he watched the ball of rest start to grow. The tendrils of willowy gas were still oozing out of his palm, curling up into the ball like they were delicate support beams holding it in place.

He switched his glance to Konrad himself. His face... sweating, but not shaking. Not dripping the stuff, and his arm wasn't trembling. Yet, he reminded himself. He's a week into this. It's coming.

"How do you feel?"

"I.. It feels good," Konrad said without looking away, licking his lips and realizing just how dry his mouth was. "That 'bout the size youse're wantin'?"

It Trevin closed his fist around the ball of res, he could have taken a bite out of it like an apple. He nodded and noted that there were still whips of res flicking out of it here and there. It was like a sphere covered in hair, the surface far from smooth, always bulging and sizzling.

"Okay. Now shrink it back down."

"But what about-"

"Don't think about lighting it up yet. Remember what you said?"

Konrad didn't need to be reminded. He remembered why he gave a shit, too. The morning after his initiation he was sure his arm would have to come off. It ached and itched, inside and out. It burned and froze. He couldn't feel it, just a hunk of useless flesh slapping into his hip... and then in the space of a chime, he'd have to keep it rigid from his body, for the merest scrape could...

That's over. It's done. Just... listen to the man. He knows, and you need to.

"Do I just... suck it back in?"

"Aye," Trevin said with a wan smile. Guy was catching on, even if his wording did need some work. "Like how you pulled it out, only backwards. You making it was breathing out... this is breathing in."

As the green-black ball spun above Konrad's hand, Trevin demonstrated. Held out his hand and as he breathed out... a ball of res appeared in his hand. The gas came instantly, barely even any effort, and then as he breathed in again... it withdrew. Sinking back into his skin until there was no hint it had ever been.

Konrad looked at his own hand, and inhaled.

Drew in the breath. The same idea, after all. The res was a little ball of liquid, but what happened when you boiled water? You got steam. So he thought about the ball breaking apart, melting, steaming... and it began to. Breaking apart like the ravages of Tanroa were sped up into the space of a few ticks, falling into wet pieces and then into a gas and-

Fuck, he was still inhaling. Easy to get carried away with the... watchyacallit it... meaty-for.

As his lungs grew fit to burst Konrad called the res back into him. It settled across his palm and sunk into him, but not through. Didn't drip out the back of his palm like it was a soden sponge, instead he felt it... return. He closed his eyes and felt those drams drip back into himself, until he exhaled again, looking down-

Into his empty hand.

"A'right," Trevin said, nodding at Konrad's side. "Now the other hand."

[Konrad Venger]

"You startin' to feel it yet?"

"Nah, not really."

"C'mon, don't fuck about, Venger."

Oddly enough, Konrad preferred that to "lad" or "boy" or even his first name. Only people that called him that were those bare handful that knew him from the early days, and in Kenash, that list was one name long: Three Eyes. But "Venger"? That was business. Professional. Detached. All things that Konrad could grasp perfectly.

"A'right, so it... aches a little."

"What was that?"

"What?"

"That little pause, there. Is it really 'a lot'?"

Konrad flexed his arm and tried to answer honestly. He jerked it up and down a few times and felt that throbbing, like he'd been kicked by an errant mule... but it was fading... and he shook his head.

"Nah. It's goin' away. Just holdin' it fer that long."

"It'll be easier on the other arm."

"Ain't my good hand, though."

"This ain't swordsmanship, lad." Fuck, we're back on that again. "This is djed. Y'don't need to be able to use both hands perfectly. Remember, when you made that ball just now and pulled it back, what were you using?"

Konrad thought on that one, mainly because he didn't want to spend all night answering fucking questions. He was hear to learn, and what could you learn from those? Shyke. Well, yes, that was a question, but the point narrowly remained. So he frowned and thought on what he had done. No, how he had done it...

"... my thoughts?"

"Aye." Trevin tapped his temple and winked. "All up here. So, left hand out... no, not quite so flat. Have your fingers curved a little, like claws... yes, like that. Right... whenever yer ready... gimme a marble."

Konrad breathed in, and held it. It was getting easier. The flow was still there, his second skeleton pulsing under his skin, but while his wonder was still alive, his fear was fading. Because he could control it. He owned it, firmer than he owned even his blades or the beauty locked in his room down the hall. He held the breath and as he breathed out... he willed the green tendrils out of the tips of his fingers... moving into the space between them... meshing together like paint on a pallete made of thin air.

"See? Fingers like that, kinda... frames the ball a little easier. Make it easier when you wanna throw it, too."

"Are we-"

"No!"

"Fine, fine..."

That was a little harsh, Konrad thought, then looked down at where his last fireball had damn-near eaten through the floor. Trevin really needed to put a rug over that or something; the bitch downstairs would charge him extra. Then he flicked his gaze and focus back to his hand and formed his marble... faster than last time! He grinned and beheld his creation, a whirling little ball and decided to have a little harmless fun. He breathed in-

"Not bad."

-and the ball rose up over his palm, towards the ceiling, until he willed it to stop-

"Good. Remember, baby steps."

-and brought it back down to hover scant inches above his palm. Curious, it wasn't hurting him. He could feel it, but in the same way the back of his neck could feel a thunderstorm coming. Just a prickling, needling, not even painful just insistent. He willed the ball a few inches higher... and the feeling vanished.

On his skin, anyway. Under it, beyond it, he felt the pulse... and he was maintaining it.

"Okay. Now you can light it. Just remember, keep it small."

Konrad wasn't one for fucking up spectacularly twice in a row. He held a breath and as he exhaled, blowing gently on the ball as he did, he imagined sparks traveling with the air-

Wait, imagining? Imagination? Since when did I have a petching need for that?

That night, as it turned out. Because as he did, as the air wafted over the green-black marble, it turned to flame and heat and glowed like a star above his hand. He was grateful he'd moved the marble further away from it: he could feel the heat of it, the power, like molten metal suspended a foot from his face, even closer to his skin.

"Venger? You feel okay? Starting to-"

"Y... Yeah... little bit." He flicked a glance across the top of the burning sphere and winked. "It's just a little... pain. Havin' to concentrate."

"Okay, okay," the mage said, biting his tongue between his lips and coming to a decision. "Time to douse it."

Konrad resisted the urge to groan. How dull it was, to have to be sensible.

[Konrad Venger]

It might have been dull, but when Konrad swallowed, he got an inkling as to what the "had to be" part of that sentence was so non-negotiable. His mouth wasn't just dry, it was... gods, he tasted like iron and lead. Salty, too...

Blood. He could taste blood.

Konrad swallowed maybe half a dram, not even a concern, but still he felt his confidence quiver like a vase on the edge of a shelf. He didn't dare look Trevin in the eye, not wanting to get a fucking speech afterwards about responsibility and nearly burning my fucking room down and knowing your limits and-

I know my limits. I just petching found one.

"How?" He spoke through gritted teeth, arm starting to shake like he'd been holding a weight too long. "Do I just-"

"Will it. Just like when you withdrew that res back into your hand."

"But... But it's-"

Trevin was already shaking his head, anticipating his words. He'd thought the same thing. It was hard not to. Everything you knew about fire, how wild and untamed it was without a glass or rocks to pen it in, but it wasn't really fire they were dealing with. That was just the form "it" took.

"It's only fire because you made it fire. It's your djed, Venger. Your power. Just snuff it out, like a candle."

"A candle?" Gods, he was barely clamping down on his voice, keeping the panic from it. The ball was starting to drop, even so slightly, and Konrad didn't think the floor could take a second impact. "Bit bigger than a-"

"But it's still your djed, Konrad. You still control it."

A c-c-candle, Konrad thought, mind starting to stammer as much as his tongue was. He was staring at the ball and the way it devoured itself but still stayed alive. He couldn't wait for the "fuel" to die down, couldn't get away when he-

No. You can. Because it's yours. And you best not petch it up.

Konrad breathed deep and remembered how he'd made the fire. With a breath. So now he blew again and willed his exhale to be more than just empty air, emptying his lungs, watching the flame buffeted by the sudden breeze, clenching his hand into a fist as he did, and-

Poof

It actually made that noise. Konrad's jaw lowered slowly, like a stunned drawbridge, and he waited for the flame to come back. It was there, a tick before, solid and burning and pain and power given shape, and Konrad had blown on it and...

Smoke drifted into the air and shuddered as the breeze from the window shouldered roughly into it, then battered it away into nothing. Konrad looked down at his fist and opened it...

"Shyke."

... saw the mouth of his scar writhe and tremble, something trying to get out under it. Trevin leaned forwad and let out a "hmmm", which wasn't exactly fucking helpful. But instead of trying to cut his hand off, the carter/mage leaned over and filled up two clay cups of water, handing one to Konrad and supping at his own.

"Overgiving. Just a mild case, dun'worry about it. And don't stare at it, won't make it go away."

Well, you're paying him to teach you.

Konrad shrugged and resisted the urge to make a fist and stroke the roiling flesh with his fingertips. No, he just sat there and drank his water and washed that filthy taste out of his mouth. Overgiving. Not just in his hand, apparently. A few chimes spent in silence and the sellsword felt more himself, watching Trevin pack a pipe of some sweet-smelling weed.

"Feeling better?"

Konrad smiled back and nodded. Checked his hand, opened his fingers... still as it ever was. He grinned and Trevin nodded, lighting the pipe with his fingers, filling his lungs and then passing it to his guest. Who was only too happy to oblige.

His eyes flickered over the burning bowl and checked the Thirty Day chart on the wall. Twenty-one days left, judging by the cross marks Trevin had gouged into it. The seventieth. Konrad sighed and filled his lungs.

It was almost a shame. But the sand was running, and that was that.

Besides, plenty more time to learn.

[Cocoon]

You again? You sure enjoy magic...

Well, I enjoy magic too. So let's get combine your magic writing and my magic enthusiams to form rewards for you. Let's see what you've gotten...

 

Konrad Venger

XP

• Reimancy +4
  
• Meditation +3
  
• Endurance +3
• Rhetoric +1

Lores

• The detachment of a surname
  
• The power of imagination
  
• Reimancy: Patience and Focus
• Reimancy: Weapon of the mind
• Reimancy: Finger position for stability
• Reimancy: Useful yet dangerous

Miscellaneous

• Mild Overgiving: Konrad will experience soreness in both arms and will feel a metallic taste occasionally. Additionally, whenever he looks onto the wounds of his palms, he will experience general discomfort. [Effect expires the 60th of Spring]

 

Notes

Another well written thread. It is grindy as you stated, yet not because of that it is bad. I like that you're taking your time with the basics of Reimancy instead of trying to cast firestorms or something unrealistic. Additionally, you're getting some very useful lores that will be useful to Konrad to nail down the basics once and for all. Even more, you're conscious about the damage using Djed has on the body (and mind!) which I'm really proud of. The pains, the struggle, the doubts... it all played a part in your thread and none of it was ignored.

I am also sensing Konrad's impatience will translate into his magic. Recklessness is something I really see coming one day, and Sweet Whispers and Magical Delusion are likely to eventually become a part of Konrad's lifestyle unless he begins changing his attitude towards the world. Don't think this is a punishment of any kind - it would be great to have a magic user PC that isn't all sane when magic is not as safe as it appears.

As for critique, there wasn't much material to work on. The cussing is the only thing I can think of right now. I've spoken to you about them previously, but considering this thread was written way back, this will be overlooked. You've began fixing those nasty words in your recent posts, and that's all I need. Good job!

Don't doubt to reach out if you believe I've missed something, or if you have any doubts as to why awarded you or not a certain skill point/lore.

Happy writing!