Chapter 43: Ragnarok and Runes
/Music, who'd think to write about that, eh? I reckon this is a little exploited topic, maybe even a niche in the market. Yes, a niche... my niche now! I shall patent this as... Musico Telofio!
Ah, a good name indeed. Now, at the beginning I shall make some musing of myself, of course. After all, it is most certainly required for me to at least state who I am and why I would be doing such a thing... oh! Why do I not simply use my thoughts for it?
There, all caught up now. What you are reading now is right from my head. A truly magnificent one, I assure you. My name is Kurt! Kurt River, in fact. As of this day, I am 36 chapters old. Almost enough to have an entire book on my back, ha! Graduated from the grand Academia of Music in Lotrigg, the city of sound.
Personally, I played the piano there, though I did dabble in many other disciplines. It has been a long journey to get to where I am now, and a long road still ahead of me. This shall be the story of my life, my adventures, and more importantly than anything, the story of my music.
I believe that this book will be split in two halves, one which shall be my story, for avid readers to enjoy, to laugh and cry to, and to feel all those days with me once more. The other shall be a far more technical part, where I go into detail on all the instruments I have seen in my travels, and all the ways I have been taught, or figured out myself, one might play them.
Indeed, this shall be my greatest work yet. So, please, I ask you for but one thing.
To follow me, on this wonderful journey into the wide world out there, the wide world full of life, and nature, and oh so many sounds!/
The introduction to "Musico Telofio - The Journey", written by now deceased Kurt River, a practiced and famous musician. May he forever rest in peace.
- - - - - -
Magma took a deep breath in her very own room. The smell of sulfur and brimstone had been familiar to her since the day she had been born, and thus, the acidic winds of these lands did little to her. She pitied Eric and his weakness to such things, truly.
The creature himself was quite a good person though. Tall, funny, and handsome, for a dryad. They didn't butt heads very much, at least she butted heads with him far fewer than the pianist. A good thing at heart, but never one for fun. Or anything much, really.
Pah, at least the inhabitants of this continent knew how to have fun. Drinking, and betting, and a handful of gambling, too. It was quite to her tastes, and their pride never let these demons back down from a challenge. Hah! Truly, creatures of her kind!
Really, they were similar in many ways. The fire and brimstone, the pride, the rough play, and the drinking. Ohhhh the drinking. Truly, some incredible thing these hellspawn brewed. Most of all their signature and favourite "Deal with the Devil"! Hah!
Jokes, indeed. As if demons and devils could ever even see eye to eye, the creatures hadn't stopped their incessant warring in centuries. Truly, if they could ever make peace, it would be a sight for sore eyes. Well, to get your eyes sore, at the very least, because there would be an incredible amount of conquest and slaughter all over the world.
So perhaps it was for the best that their deals were kept in bottles to be chugged, then! A burning liquor, strong enough to make even her flinch the first time she took a swig, but the taste was worth dying for. Magma usually even enjoyed the hot feeling drinks gave her. They were comfortable, and even the hellish temperatures of this one were to her tastes.
But none of that came even close to compare to the incredible enjoyment a swig of this drink brought you. Oh, the shock! A wave of fire, washing down your mouth and throat for but a moment, before soft petals of roses laid down to extinguish the flames. Then, a hint of fruit slowly rose up, before crashing down like a tidal wave.
An aroma of pineapple and the strange sulfurfigs that grew on the trees in these parts. It was a soft and light, yet intense flavour, flooding one's mouth, then gently laying down again, until it was replaced by a creep of acidity. A positively bitter undertone that would sneak its way into every future bite you took, always asking if you didn't want another swig, just one more taste of the deal.
Magma loved it, but she was no brute beyond self-control. Well, perhaps sometimes she was, but never would she lose herself in the bottle again.
Her pride in herself demanded it, and pride to herself she had ample. She was a lava spirit, named after the roiling heat deep beneath the earth, a close cousin to the more common fire spirits. Perhaps one would best classify her as a lavid, close cousin to ifrits, with a little golem blood. Was it Golem? The rules of her earthern brethren were always too stiff for her.
But no matter where she came from, she had pride in her blood, in her family's, and in her very own. That writhing liquid pumping through her, coursing through every inch of her body with the fury of a wildfire, always aiming to consume her. She had great pride in it, but she had steadfastly sworn to never lose herself, and that swear was one she would hold, no matter the price.
Nonetheless, with her blood, she had all the more pride in herself. In her tall stature, standing a little over 1.90 meters, and her toned muscles. As a lavid, her skin looked liquid, flowing, with parts glowing white, and others looking black, like solid rock. Yet, most of it was a burning red, the fiery colour she adored so much.
Her clothes were a masterwork by many metalsmiths, plate mail wreathed with fire, specific pockets of molten cold iron, mixed with flakes of stygian ice, simply to keep her from burning the things around her. As such was the requirement if she wanted to reside anywhere but her homeland.
Her entire body was wreathed in the plate, all but her face, for she refused to have it covered. Even with the armor, flames still spilled forth at the joints, such as knees and shoulders, but when it came to her head, she was much too proud to hide it.
Magma's eyes were charcoal black, darker than the feather's of a raven from the underworld, and deeper than the oceans anywhere she had ever been. Her lips were scarlet red, perhaps because she enjoyed it so, and her jawline strong. But what she adored most was her hair.
It was a fiery streak of lava, flowing from her head all the way down to her knees, before travelling all the way back up, slowly blending into her neck and forever moving beneath the many plates that hid her.
Still, the armor she wore was skilfully made, and it allowed her to touch nigh all things without melting them, although shaking the hands of common humans would still cause them burns. It was so truly well crafted, in fact, that even though her head was uncovered, it created a small pocket of air around it that stopped her heat.
One could get close enough to touch her face without getting burnt, though the heat would make many uncomfortable. Still, especially to these demons, her heat was bearable, most certainly bearable enough to challenge her to all manner of duels. Some even attempted to challenge her music, but she had won any and all challenges.
After all, she also had great pride in Ragnarok, and no matter who challenged her, if it was to defend her pride she would always win- Without fail.
And perhaps soon, she would be challenged again. Perhaps even minutes after going out there to the demonfolk again. No matter where, or when, or by whom, so long as she was challenged, she would accept, and no matter the challenge, Magma was confident that if it was important, she would be able to win it!
- - - - - -
Old Dreamweaver rested still. It had been a long time since they had drawn on their many selves to become one, and even longer since they had taught someone ihn'ir. They had spoken the truth, as always.
They had spoken of ihn'ir, and young Cat had understood. They had spoken of woven dreams, and young Cat had many question. Cat had not yet understood weaving, and yet, they were here. Perhaps, their weaving was different. Old Dreamweaver was sure time would tell.
Yet, they had also spoken of themselves. Of their seeking, of their search. Ah, to trikko. To lagment. To eyuen.
Dreamweaver owed young Cat many thing, although they may not yet know. Their weaving had brought them and this one together. Trikko, it was never one sided. How did that one call it, "teach"? Perhaps this one had used a wrong wrongly.
Trikko... to teach, to exchange, to interact, perhaps? No, no, to... trade? No, to... parent? It was... difficult. This one had not yet full understood Cat, not fully understood their "english". A strange conglomerate, yet one to nuk'dah on. To "ponder". Ponder? Hm, then what was eyeun?
Ah, no matter. Perhaps this one would know by the next time they saw young Cat. Perhaps they would know the next time they were sought, the next time they understood, the next time they would... eyeun. But for now, it was time to wa'hc. To stop weaving.
They needed wa'hc to rest, yet before they fell asleep, this one though of but one thing... when would they eyeun again?
- - - - - -
The morning after his trip to the restaurant, Mercury woke up a little groggy. Nothing a splash of cold water couldn't fix, especially now that he was a cat. He seemed to hate water even more than he used to, though he had never been a fan of it for any purpose other than drinking and washing himself.
He had always been terrified of the ocean, and found lakes and pools disgusting. At least when water was in smaller droplets it was fine. Rain or mist never bothered him, neither did steam or showering, but he disliked bathing with a passion.
Yeah, reminding himself of his fiery hatred of lakes did wonders for his mind. After only a few minutes he found himself more awake, as he dunked his face in a bowl of cold water again. For just today he should stay sharp, after all, he would be hunting down a criminal.
He was hoping that it wouldn't be too far above his paygrade. Of course, it was a D rank commission, so perhaps he should check up on himself before he went.
Status?
----
Status:
Mercury Rainfall Starlight
Lv.: 14
Species: Zetraspa
Titles: <Tenacious Genius>, <Forest Usurper>, <Tutorial Completer>
Hp: 205/205
Mp: 312/312
Sp: 175/175
Strength: 51
Vitality: 46
Dexterity: 40 (+1)
Agility: 32 (+1)
Intelligence: 51
Wisdom: 50
Willpower: 55
Luck: 18
Ability points: 20
World points: 5
Skill points: 860
Gold: 3046
Beast familiars: 1/2
----
Yeah, that was him alright. Damn, had he really saved up that much gold for his shop? Kind of impressive. What could he even get for that?
Hm...
A small healing potion, some alchemy ingredients, a... goat? No, if he looked at the fine print, that said a shop goat, one that doesn't drop any exp or gold when killed? Nor any items? What the heck was this Skill of his even good for???
Sigh, fine, he'd keep looking. A medium healing potion that would restore 100 Hp for 1500 gold. He would definitely keep that much money saved up, something like that could come in handy.
Now, what else was there? Some gear, spears, swords, axes, sickles, gloves... Gloves? He still had paws though. Dang, sometimes he really felt like that shop of his was making fun of him. It offered equipment for a human, and it would even allow him to buy overpriced food, like a bag of potatoes for 500 gold, but like, did it really not have anything good?
An umbrella, a radiator, a standing fan, a pillow, wait, he might actually buy that one. Could he favourite some items in there? Ah, yeah, like that. Turns out he could.
Well, other than that, not very much. He took a short look at the hats, but all of them seemed like they were cosmetic, which would be fair, but he would have wished for one that gave him a slight advantage.
Still, at the end, he did find something for himself. A small mopaaw's caretaking and training kit for 800 gold.
It was a little embarrasing to get something like that for himself, but it did include some stuff, like some treats, a leash, a blanket to keep him at the optimal warmth, and what he valued most: a claw-sharpening kit. Additionally, there was even a small instructional manual on runecarving in there, signed to belong to someone named "Jurika".
That did bring up the question of where the fuck this shop got its items from, but oh well, not like he could return it now. It was pretty thin and small, maybe A6 paper with 30 pages? Just a tiny notebook, but he was sure he could gain something from it. Perhaps tomorrow, he thought.
For now, he would have to sharpen his claws and get ready to end some crime.
Mercury made sure to get his claws properly done up, dragging them over the somewhat hard but slightly spongy material multiple times. To be quite fair, he had absolutely no idea what that thing was made of, and really, he didn't think he wanted to know. So for now, simply using it to get ready would do.
After making sure his weapons were sharp and ready to go, he also checked in with his mana veins, taking care to flood them at least once, like he did every day, just to make sure they didn't get rusty. He also checked on their progress into his claws, and it was nearing the end there. He was also pushing them into his teeth bit by bit.
Well, bit by bit was relative, he didn't really feel like he was making too much progress, but that might just be him. In any case, he was fairly sure he could keep himself in good fighting shape for at least a little while now. Well, good shape excluding his mana veins, he could keep those active for like, two minutes at best. Still, certainly that was better than the few seconds he had managed before.
Did he just think certainly? Who thought like that? God, Lucia must have rubbed off on him. Hopefully some of his awareness had rubbed off on them, because all of those idiots he drank with had some screws loose. And he meant that in the best way possible.
Mercury smiled to himself. He was daydreaming again, he should probably stop that. For now he should focus on where he needed to go, and on getting ready.
The address was still the same, and he had memorized it before. Avery had shown it to him on a map, and even in person for just a few moments another evening, so he was sure he would find his way there.
But for now, he decided he'd prepare just a little more and see what his mana veins could to.
He decided that, since he had mana veins inside his claws now, perhaps he should test if that was enough for him to scratch some stone? Maybe he could make little rock darts and put some sharpness on there?
It was a weird thought, using his nails to carve stone. He would never have even entertained the thought as a human, but now... sometimes this world was still a little confusing to him. Actually, much more than a little. At least he was adapting slowly.
Right, and to proof he had adapted, he would just cut off some rock with his claws. Yeah, that seemed perfectly doable, no doubts here, none at all, nu-uh.
So, Mercury put one of his trusty rocks from his inventory, an oval one with a relatively smooth surface. He didn't really have anything to clamp it down with, so he simply placed one paw on top of it to hold the rock still, before channelling mana through the other one.
Now, I want you to imagine a little cat, holding a rock down and about to try and cut into it, with incredible focus on its face. To me personally, it is a funny thought to entertain.
And thus, our hero, the great Mercury Rainfall Starlight sliced down, and his paws collided with the rocks, as he missed spectacularly and got his claws stuck in his floor.
Maybe on the next swipe, he shouldn't close his eyes.
Alright, one more try, less force this time. He had this.
Slowly but surely, he coursed mana through his body, taking it from his core to his claws, slowly heating it on the way to make sure his entire leg was up to the task of cutting rock. And finally, once he had gotten his entire appendix to maximum performance, he scraped against the rock.
The grating noise it made was quite horrible, but still, somehow, it seemed he had made progress. It was a tiny, shaky line on the stone, and honestly it was pretty pathetic, but Mercury kept slowly scratching at it, and bit by bit, he managed to erode it away.
It only took him a quarter of an hour to flatten one side of the stone, and then, as he got a bit better on it, another ten minutes to flatten the other side. He was kind of imagining throwing knives, so with a bit more time and mana, he managed to slowly carve an edge into the rock.
Now, of course, this thing was small, dull, and probably brittle, but Mercury was quite proud of his work. But he was not quite done yet.
He hadn't used many weapons, nor <Throw> recently, but perhaps, since he was all on his own again, it was time to return back to the old ways. And so, he coursed mana through himself once more, as he beset his claws unto the stone, and scratched away at it. He needed it to be more sturdy, and so, in as small a script as he could manage, he carved in a single rune. A mid 1st grade Reinforce rune.
And although he had to interrupt and retrace lines many times, eventually he was done, and had achieved it.
[Successfully carved mid 1st grade Reinforce rune. Get: 30 Exp]
O-ho-hoooo.
Those fucking criminals better be keeping on their tip-toes, because he still had it. He was still just as good as a year ago, when he had been in his runecarving prime, and perhaps this time he would rise to even greater heights.
He was really hoping those criminals were sitting down, because Mercury Rainfall Starlight was about to knock them off their feet!!