ERode — Roleplayer Guild

@Psyker Landshark

“Times of peace call for tournament circuits,” Serenity said. “I doubt you’ll get any individuals much more skilled than the Flower of the North showing up, but it’s more real than sparring is.”

If only because there was greater incentive to win rather than to learn. Everything changed once there was something on the line, whether it be the brilliance of the spotlight, the wealth that accompanied a high placing, or the favor of a handsome lady or lord.

“And yes, that answers plenty, Sir Renar.” She smiled towards Elias. “Just keep up at it, Elias. A merchant’s daughter is liable to meet plenty more people than a squire does. I don’t doubt she’s got a fair share of admirers, if she could catch the attention of a noble such as yourself.”

@Nanaya@Estylwen@AThousandCurses@Sifr@Psyker Landshark

It was certainly not something that he had heard about before. Rekordia was too poor in essence to allow for wide availability of such magical tools, reliant instead on broadcast systems and telegraphs. There was something similar in Vaal Shakta though, the Leylight that could be utilized for the upper crust of a society that was already above the rest. That was more a case of a uniform variation of essence inheritance, however. The Professor spoke of this Adapa’s sentience instead, as well as extra functionality alongside it.

Grimoires and tomes for a modern age.

A fickle spirit with a desire to mentally break others.

Yet, presumably, not so free-spirited that it could disobey the incantations of their master. A tool, ultimately. Something to add to their arsenal.

Alright. He didn’t even need to treat them with the care he showed animals then.

…

There were those who slumped, drawn into the mental battle between themselves and their Adapa. A battle of wills, a battle against their past, it afforded them an opportunity to reaffirm themselves and their decisions.

There were those who left, then and there. The first examination had already sowed that seed of doubt within their mind, and they knew that whatever resolve they had when they initially set out for Wingram Academy had been eroded by the tribulations that followed, the clear gap between them and their peers.

Both were reasonable. Both showed a self-awareness or an iron determination.

But for the Strigidae in the front row? He neither challenged that floating wisp nor relinquished his place in the Academy. Others could demonstrate their will, their character, their burning desire. Nothing burned inside Otis though, except the buzzing in his mind, the frenetic building up of information that kaleidoscoped within his amber gaze. What he sought was knowledge. If that could be obtained through grit, then so be it. If that could be obtained through compromise, then so be it. For that singular desire of his, to uncover all that there was in the entirety of Castalia. He had no need to prove himself to a flaming wisp. He could simply change that flaming wisp.

Familiar tools found themselves in his hand, as he cordoned off the Adapa with a hexagonal barrier. Spirits were the in-between of natural elements and organic beings. The presence of a will gave them the same mutational aspects of essence that living beings did, but the lack of a physical form meant that those aspects of sapient essence was much more malleable. A human’s brain could be considered a meat-device that reinforced particular essences within a single being, while existing separately from such essence. It was why manipulations of the mind were temporary by nature, why restrictions and permissions were so important for the linking of minds together.

Spirits did not have that form of back-up. They were just more complicated than pure physical matter, and it was through that methodology that Otis approached his Adapa. Incantations for paralysis accompanied gestures for categorization, the spiritual tool locked into place by invisible chains as he analyzed its individual components. Emotion-based essence, volatile and inconstant, could be teased out inbetween the more rigid and regular formulizations of functional essence. He never had the opportunity before to closely examine the Leylights of Vaal Shahkta, but he could recognize arcane constructions similar to his own communications spells embedded within.

He delved deeper.

Categorization was complete now. Hand reaching into his bag, Otis pulled out a small notebook and a pen, scribbling down his notes in a messy script. If things went poorly and his Adapa was damaged beyond repair, he’d be able to use his notes to at least restore some of its capabilities. Seven pages were filled with diagrams before the notebook snapped shut once more, the Seeker clenching and unclenching his writing hand as his joints and knuckles. There were more functions that he didn’t understand than that he did; he wished he had a few days to work on this project. But rush jobs were a necessity when the apocalypse came, and perfection was only the realm of prodigies and idiots. For people who only wanted things?

In his mind, dice tumbled down from the heavens, while in his arrogance, he grasped what dice he could to force upon the table the results he wished.

Thus, the lobotomy of the Adapa began, the erasure and inclusion of the essence that would efface from this living tool the desire to do anything beyond what Otis required of it.

What purpose was there for a tool, except to obey?

…

The barrier disappeared.

Otis grasped for the Adapa and felt only the warmth of the false flame.

A thin smile, exposing teeth, flashed, only to disappear just as quickly.

Once again, volunteering at that hospital had proved to be a productive venture.

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