It was incredible how quickly time passed when one was amidst a massive Elven festival. Upon the rise of the day after they'd established their temporary housing arrangement, they woke to find a nomad city had sprung up around them. It was far lesser in population to Trachn'ir but, with the density being so much lesser thanks to the absence of multistoried structures, the Legranel Moot extended for kilometers in every direction.
The plainsfolk, in spite of the serious events that had summoned this meeting of clans, had gone full tilt into celebration of the event. With the breaking cold of early Spring and the lengthening of the days to shed snow at a visible rate, the migratory people had determined that they would take advantage of the gathering of their kin to engage in all of the usual accompaniments to meetings. That meant trading goods, trading stories, and trading fluids. All with a healthy amount of not quite hydration in the form of a myriad types of booze. Wine, beer, raw distilled grain liquor, mead, brandy, whiskey, if something had, at some point, been stuffed into a jar to ferment into alcohol, the Legranel were passing jugs of it around freely.
Ulric had, for the most part, remained sober, content to watch the chaos from the relative calm of the small gathering of his recent traveling partners. Many of the Elves, especially the older ones with families, had created similar little clusters of calm, small eyes in the storm of the Moot. From the comfort of a folded fur seat upon a shaped stone chair, courtesy of his regained earth magic, Ulric watched events unfold.
Taipan had gone abroad to find information, lost immediately to the crowds of her cousins. He hadn't seen her in at least six hours by this point. Ulric was currently carving a [Dire Ox] horn, etching in the forms of an abstract human form carving a bull's head from its shoulders, a flowing artistic representation of the hunt that had produced the horn. His Huntress wife had suggested that it would sell well as a good luck charm to Herdriders about to start raising children. At least they weren't going to grind the horn up to eat it for virility. The task was something to keep his hands and mind busy while he hunkered down, more or less out of sight. It was also a good way to make a little cash on the side and build up his dexterity with a knife.
He received only a little attention from the mobs of roving Elven youths, there were some few other human visitors who had been traveling amongst the nomads, either for business or as part of the family. A few times he had to employ the downwards sweep of his hand to indicate he wasn't interested in attracting amorous sorts of attention, to men and women both, which fact no longer surprised him. In a crowd this large there would always be those who wanted to try something new, particularly while properly soused. Mostly, however, Ulric was left to his own devices. At the moment, in fact, he realized he was the only one in this little haven of yurts, and put down his carving to throw a few bricks of oily buffalo chips on the fire, topping it up.
The others must have gone to pass word to their elders about the warning he and his lady wife had given. The movements of the monsters and beasts that had been disturbed by his killing of the [Forest Lord] and the absence of Iriel's Hunters, who would normally be out controlling the worst elements of the wilderness was cause for serious concern. Most especially for the small groups of Herdriders guiding their charges through the savannah or the sometimes isolated harvesters of grains and goods from the vast prairie. Lone travelers were at tremendous risk of being consumed by stray creatures that normally wouldn't have been seen for leagues outside of a Roost's bustle, or even much along the trodden paths those Roosts left as they relocated. Legranel huntsmen tended to discourage predators by warming their beds with their hides. That was no longer adequate protection, active efforts would need to be taken if the less warlike elements of the population were to move in safety.
This is alright, Ulric mused, I can dig this sort of a vibe. There's Elves out the yin yang, only without the oppressive feel of the buildings that had made Trachn'ir far too alike the colossal tombs where his former life had been spent, those massive housing complexes amidst equally imposing facilities for agriculture, health care, manufacturing, and all the myriad necessities of the post collapse settlements. Density was a requirement back there, it was too hard to scrub large tracts of environment for radioactive materials and toxic substances otherwise. Out here though? This was alright. The Legranel Moot had the same sort of feel as the Iriel'en city that had stood empty below the boughs of Irielhos, sprawling, disseminated, interlockings of civilization that did not cross that threshold into claustrophobic urbanity that made Ulric's teeth itch.
He put the finishing touches on the carving and then concentrated on the dynamo of his Ceraunic core. With an effort, Ulric forced the magic to concentrate into two separate monopoles of pure charge, opposite but disallowed to interact, his will caging them and isolating them within his core. Gently, he pushed the collection of opposing forces together, allowed them to occupy, briefly the same space. A sudden flare of energy, an echo of a clap within a canyon, accompanied the reversion of lightning natured mana to a pure, unaspected state, which Ulric immediately had to sequester or have it be contaminated by the rest of his magic. White mana liked to become whatever type of elemental form was nearby and Ulric's core was chock full of electrical potential that tended to flavor things.
Carefully, Ulric's mind spun out the mental construct for a very gentle version of his [Cinder Shield] spell, dense gems of solid flame that circled to produce an extremely hot central region within the radius of their spin. Carefully, holding the shield parallel to the ground, Ulric dipped the horn by the tip into that burning region and withdrew it, now nicely blackened, throwing his carvings into relief once he'd scraped the char from them. He released the shield, watching the jewels of elemental flame burn away into wisps of smoke and smiled.
Figuring out how to restore his use of unaspected magic was a major victory. Ceraun was a wonderful magic for destroying and empowering things, for connecting mana forms to accelerate them, but it wasn't always the answer. Ulric thought of the evolved forms of his [Wind Blade] and [Flame Crash], the [Stormfire] and [Galvanic Mistral] spells that were heinously destructive. And costly. They really took some juice to get going, his core was all too happy to spin up a third of his mana potential to fire them off. He'd found maintaining the balance of his mana reserves a serious challenge since awakening, more so now than ever, that his recently evolved class, [Ohmic Knight], was utilizing mana more heavily to create its enhanced offensive repertoire.
Having the old magics back would allow him to better spread out his talents, to take advantage of all the elemental forms. Especially things like [Stone Wall], which had such utility, as he reminded himself by shifting on his improvised stone bench. He wouldn't be able to utilize the [Core Capacitor] function of his magic, the instantaneous mana dump that created a massively powerful single spell instance, for those prior forms but that was fine. That aspect of his core was, essentially, break glass in case of Emergencies, sort of deal. Useful in a pinch, but not really great outside of that.
"That was a beautiful spell, you are young for a Human magus are you not?"
A low melodic voice interrupted his train of thought and Ulric glanced up from his horn artistry to take in a lovely pair of vertically slitted eyes, a rare female Sauri. Her dinosaurian muzzle was surprisingly expressive, as had been that of the man with whom Ulric had granted his pepper spice back in Trachn'ir. She was speaking Elvish with a clean accent and Ulric had no trouble understanding her.
"My thanks, fellow traveler. Its creation was one of my finer moments and thanks only to the most excellent of teachers." Ulric replied honestly.
He'd learned that spell and mastered his others mostly under the tutelage of some of the greatest wielders of the arcane available to the Iriel'en. The three Wives of Bald'rt Iriel himself, Vedyr, Shor, and Bathe, had taught him the fundamentals of using his magic and then, when they had been unable to continue their lessons, the wizened retired archmage Gother Cenur'it had more or less finished what they started. Months of daily instruction under those had produced what would have taken him years and years to discover on his own, even having the advantage of knowing the physical theories around which magic seemed to intertwine. The speed at which that Crimson sphinx Shor managed to grasp those theories and then weave them into her spellcasting was patently unfair. When she recovered her strength and got back around to major magical lifting she was going to unleash pure unholy terror.
If a guy couldn't figure out how to use magic with that roster of teachers they couldn't be trusted to button their trousers.
The Sauri's clothing was interesting, a type of layered dress made of something fluffy, but distinct from the woolen items of the Elves, maybe plant based. Flax? He'd need to examine the fibers but it might be a form of linen. What really stood out were the squares of hard leather sewn into the material to form an almost scale pattern of plates. It looked heavy, warm, and tough as all get out. Combined with the Sauri woman's height, a good quarter meter above his own head, and rather well muscled build, the smoothly baritone pitch, he'd rather not have had her sneak up on him in a dark alley. Good thing she was hitting him up under full daylight and with good intentions.
The reptilian features of the Sauri were quite distinctive amongst the Beastkin, thanks to the odd mixture of dense, small, scales and a smooth suede skin. Their scales possessed a distinctive and highly individual patterning of pigment along the forehead, sides of the jaw, and places less commonly observed. His newfound supplicant had a lively purple and orange that broke up her charcoal grey hide.
"I find your use of flame interesting. If I may, could you explain to me how you create those marvelous jewels of Incendere?" the Sauri asked boldly.
Oh ho!? A mage? It was Ulric's lucky day. He didn't have much chance to speak with those gifted in the art of magery, not since leaving Irielhos. There simply weren't many who attained enough mastery of raw mana manipulations outside of the somewhat rigid gifts of the Akashic classes. True mages were rare and potentially far more dangerous than their more standardly classed counterparts. And this one, wanted to exchange that most precious of riches: knowledge.
Ulric smiled a greeting and gestured at the ground, concentrating briefly to pull up another stone bench for his guest. Her lips parted to show sharp daggerlike teeth in a fearsome grin at the casual display of spellwork. He offered a fur to use as a padding but the Sauri waved it away and sat eagerly, using her coiled tail as a cushion. Ulric suppressed a wince but the Beastkin evidenced no discomfort so it must be fine.
The now thoroughly fascinated Sauri smoothed down her thick armored dress unnecessarily clearly making time to gather herself. While she did, Ulric grabbed himself another piece of bone to begin carving the old bearded, one eyed man totem he'd been practicing. Bone was difficult to work, far more so than it would have been in the Before, due to the innately stronger and also magically bolstered physiology of the beasts of Varda. Since Ulric's carving knives and awls were of the teeth of the one-time alpha predator of the continent though, they made easy work of incising the bone. Cutting too deeply was the greater problem for him.
"I see you have some experience in the game of trading, since you have not offered terms and await my opening to exploit your superior position." Began the Sauri, with a more serene expression than her earlier excitement.
Ulric contented himself with a nod and nothing more, continuing to carve his piece, which earned him a slightly sardonic laugh from the Beastkin mage. In truth, Ulric was exceedingly happy to learn what he could from this unexpected meeting. He'd not spoken at length with the Sauri, nor many Beastkin in general, they being far more present in Prespang than in Orlethrem. He'd certainly never traded wizard pointers with them, and stood to gain a tremendous amount of knowledge even from things the woman before him might consider commonplace. Even so, they were playing a game and that game had some rules to it. It would be gauche for him to not abide by the age old tenants of barter.
"Very well then, I will begin." Announced the Sauri mage, relaxing into the bargaining, "My name is Werona Autumnclaw and I am an ash cored adept. My command of Incendere, Caelum, and Terra are strong but I have not seen this manipulation you have so casually used to treat your bone artwork. I might say that such a peaceful use for so deadly a construct is surprising. You are aware that those beautiful fire gems are extremely easily weaponized, are you not?"
Ulric laid aside the carving in his lap for a moment and focused to first create the necessary white mana and then to inflect it into the familiar Incendere waveform, molding the energies into those dense not quite crystals of solid fire. Five jewels hovered momentarily in place between them and then spun, creating a ring of burning light as they traced a path of heated air. He slowed the spin and let three of the jewels drop into the dirt, immediately sending up a plume of steam and hissing earth. When the cloud of vapor dissipated there was a vitriolic glass where the flamedrops had landed. The other two kept their spin, slower now.
"The initial spell was a refinement of an earlier one, made as a somewhat crude fireball that exploded to send a wave of flame around its impact. The conflagration was potent enough to harm even thick armor." Ulric explained, offering his magical colleague the information as a freebie for being open.
That [Flame Crash] had, when properly juiced up, melted the face and scorched the lungs of an Ogran in sturdy armor, which peoples were already robust and tough on their own. These little [Cinder Pearls] would, and had, carve through solid stone like butter. Several of the beasts he'd struggled with would have been better dealt with using this spell than his [Lightning Javalins]. They were much slower than the electrical discharges and more prone to missing, but their sheer destructive potential was greater. Up to a point, he'd found swiftly diminishing returns [Overcharging] this spell compared to [Lightning Javalins]. The Ceraun spells scaled better with more input. For his flame magic, they were better out of the box, so to speak, but gained less from the addition of more mana.
"My name is Ulric Twiceborn and I am an Elementalist classed Ceraunic cored adept. It is good to meet a fellow artisan of the craft." Ulric said smoothly, offering his class, in addition to his core as a gesture of good faith and to put his compatriot here off balance.
Neither his class, obtained by learning the use of all basic elemental harmonics and creating a spell with each, nor his lightning natured core were common. Ceraunic cores were vanishingly rare amongst the sapients, or so Instructor Gother had told him, and were almost exclusively only found in certain Greater beast variants.
That fact checked out because Ms. Autumnclaw here was leaning forwards on her elbows and staring intently, with an almost hungry look to her eyes. They flicked between the circling flames and him eagerly.
"OHH? So rare, so very aberrant. Yes, this is a fortuitous meeting indeed. Did you- No, mercy me, that is private, would you tell me how it is you went about condensing the magic without it shedding so much heat you could not bear being so close to it?" the Ash witch inquired.
Ulric couldn't so much as open his mouth to get a word in before she rode over him in her enthusiasm, imploring, "I feel the intensity of the working, but the magic is incredibly well contained, not leaking mana, though I feel its heat clearly. This is a tightly woven, efficient spell and its method of casting is beneficial not only for this one application but for others I can think of. I will offer coin, knowledge, or a single year, no, two of indentured servitude as your apprentice for it."
That sat him aback instantly and he released the spell. What the fuck? Was she serious- Oh no, fuck, she is more than serious, this lady is drooling to know how to make those fire pearls. Money and servitude were straight out. He had enough of the one and needed not the hassle of the other. His peace being disturbed by Taipan was one thing, they'd sort of evolved into a partnership rather than the servant and lord relationship that they'd started out as, to say nothing of their initial state of being enemies. No, he'd not saddle himself with another stranger to tag along and bother him.
Knowledge it was.
It was incredible how quickly time passed when one was amidst a massive Elven festival. Upon the rise of the day after they'd established their temporary housing arrangement, they woke to find a nomad city had sprung up around them. It was far lesser in population to Trachn'ir but, with the density being so much lesser thanks to the absence of multistoried structures, the Legranel Moot extended for kilometers in every direction.
The plainsfolk, in spite of the serious events that had summoned this meeting of clans, had gone full tilt into celebration of the event. With the breaking cold of early Spring and the lengthening of the days to shed snow at a visible rate, the migratory people had determined that they would take advantage of the gathering of their kin to engage in all of the usual accompaniments to meetings. That meant trading goods, trading stories, and trading fluids. All with a healthy amount of not quite hydration in the form of a myriad types of booze. Wine, beer, raw distilled grain liquor, mead, brandy, whiskey, if something had, at some point, been stuffed into a jar to ferment into alcohol, the Legranel were passing jugs of it around freely.
Ulric had, for the most part, remained sober, content to watch the chaos from the relative calm of the small gathering of his recent traveling partners. Many of the Elves, especially the older ones with families, had created similar little clusters of calm, small eyes in the storm of the Moot. From the comfort of a folded fur seat upon a shaped stone chair, courtesy of his regained earth magic, Ulric watched events unfold.
Taipan had gone abroad to find information, lost immediately to the crowds of her cousins. He hadn't seen her in at least six hours by this point. Ulric was currently carving a [Dire Ox] horn, etching in the forms of an abstract human form carving a bull's head from its shoulders, a flowing artistic representation of the hunt that had produced the horn. His Huntress wife had suggested that it would sell well as a good luck charm to Herdriders about to start raising children. At least they weren't going to grind the horn up to eat it for virility. The task was something to keep his hands and mind busy while he hunkered down, more or less out of sight. It was also a good way to make a little cash on the side and build up his dexterity with a knife.
He received only a little attention from the mobs of roving Elven youths, there were some few other human visitors who had been traveling amongst the nomads, either for business or as part of the family. A few times he had to employ the downwards sweep of his hand to indicate he wasn't interested in attracting amorous sorts of attention, to men and women both, which fact no longer surprised him. In a crowd this large there would always be those who wanted to try something new, particularly while properly soused. Mostly, however, Ulric was left to his own devices. At the moment, in fact, he realized he was the only one in this little haven of yurts, and put down his carving to throw a few bricks of oily buffalo chips on the fire, topping it up.
The others must have gone to pass word to their elders about the warning he and his lady wife had given. The movements of the monsters and beasts that had been disturbed by his killing of the [Forest Lord] and the absence of Iriel's Hunters, who would normally be out controlling the worst elements of the wilderness was cause for serious concern. Most especially for the small groups of Herdriders guiding their charges through the savannah or the sometimes isolated harvesters of grains and goods from the vast prairie. Lone travelers were at tremendous risk of being consumed by stray creatures that normally wouldn't have been seen for leagues outside of a Roost's bustle, or even much along the trodden paths those Roosts left as they relocated. Legranel huntsmen tended to discourage predators by warming their beds with their hides. That was no longer adequate protection, active efforts would need to be taken if the less warlike elements of the population were to move in safety.
This is alright, Ulric mused, I can dig this sort of a vibe. There's Elves out the yin yang, only without the oppressive feel of the buildings that had made Trachn'ir far too alike the colossal tombs where his former life had been spent, those massive housing complexes amidst equally imposing facilities for agriculture, health care, manufacturing, and all the myriad necessities of the post collapse settlements. Density was a requirement back there, it was too hard to scrub large tracts of environment for radioactive materials and toxic substances otherwise. Out here though? This was alright. The Legranel Moot had the same sort of feel as the Iriel'en city that had stood empty below the boughs of Irielhos, sprawling, disseminated, interlockings of civilization that did not cross that threshold into claustrophobic urbanity that made Ulric's teeth itch.
He put the finishing touches on the carving and then concentrated on the dynamo of his Ceraunic core. With an effort, Ulric forced the magic to concentrate into two separate monopoles of pure charge, opposite but disallowed to interact, his will caging them and isolating them within his core. Gently, he pushed the collection of opposing forces together, allowed them to occupy, briefly the same space. A sudden flare of energy, an echo of a clap within a canyon, accompanied the reversion of lightning natured mana to a pure, unaspected state, which Ulric immediately had to sequester or have it be contaminated by the rest of his magic. White mana liked to become whatever type of elemental form was nearby and Ulric's core was chock full of electrical potential that tended to flavor things.
Carefully, Ulric's mind spun out the mental construct for a very gentle version of his [Cinder Shield] spell, dense gems of solid flame that circled to produce an extremely hot central region within the radius of their spin. Carefully, holding the shield parallel to the ground, Ulric dipped the horn by the tip into that burning region and withdrew it, now nicely blackened, throwing his carvings into relief once he'd scraped the char from them. He released the shield, watching the jewels of elemental flame burn away into wisps of smoke and smiled.
Figuring out how to restore his use of unaspected magic was a major victory. Ceraun was a wonderful magic for destroying and empowering things, for connecting mana forms to accelerate them, but it wasn't always the answer. Ulric thought of the evolved forms of his [Wind Blade] and [Flame Crash], the [Stormfire] and [Galvanic Mistral] spells that were heinously destructive. And costly. They really took some juice to get going, his core was all too happy to spin up a third of his mana potential to fire them off. He'd found maintaining the balance of his mana reserves a serious challenge since awakening, more so now than ever, that his recently evolved class, [Ohmic Knight], was utilizing mana more heavily to create its enhanced offensive repertoire.
Having the old magics back would allow him to better spread out his talents, to take advantage of all the elemental forms. Especially things like [Stone Wall], which had such utility, as he reminded himself by shifting on his improvised stone bench. He wouldn't be able to utilize the [Core Capacitor] function of his magic, the instantaneous mana dump that created a massively powerful single spell instance, for those prior forms but that was fine. That aspect of his core was, essentially, break glass in case of Emergencies, sort of deal. Useful in a pinch, but not really great outside of that.
"That was a beautiful spell, you are young for a Human magus are you not?"
A low melodic voice interrupted his train of thought and Ulric glanced up from his horn artistry to take in a lovely pair of vertically slitted eyes, a rare female Sauri. Her dinosaurian muzzle was surprisingly expressive, as had been that of the man with whom Ulric had granted his pepper spice back in Trachn'ir. She was speaking Elvish with a clean accent and Ulric had no trouble understanding her.
"My thanks, fellow traveler. Its creation was one of my finer moments and thanks only to the most excellent of teachers." Ulric replied honestly.
He'd learned that spell and mastered his others mostly under the tutelage of some of the greatest wielders of the arcane available to the Iriel'en. The three Wives of Bald'rt Iriel himself, Vedyr, Shor, and Bathe, had taught him the fundamentals of using his magic and then, when they had been unable to continue their lessons, the wizened retired archmage Gother Cenur'it had more or less finished what they started. Months of daily instruction under those had produced what would have taken him years and years to discover on his own, even having the advantage of knowing the physical theories around which magic seemed to intertwine. The speed at which that Crimson sphinx Shor managed to grasp those theories and then weave them into her spellcasting was patently unfair. When she recovered her strength and got back around to major magical lifting she was going to unleash pure unholy terror.
If a guy couldn't figure out how to use magic with that roster of teachers they couldn't be trusted to button their trousers.
The Sauri's clothing was interesting, a type of layered dress made of something fluffy, but distinct from the woolen items of the Elves, maybe plant based. Flax? He'd need to examine the fibers but it might be a form of linen. What really stood out were the squares of hard leather sewn into the material to form an almost scale pattern of plates. It looked heavy, warm, and tough as all get out. Combined with the Sauri woman's height, a good quarter meter above his own head, and rather well muscled build, the smoothly baritone pitch, he'd rather not have had her sneak up on him in a dark alley. Good thing she was hitting him up under full daylight and with good intentions.
The reptilian features of the Sauri were quite distinctive amongst the Beastkin, thanks to the odd mixture of dense, small, scales and a smooth suede skin. Their scales possessed a distinctive and highly individual patterning of pigment along the forehead, sides of the jaw, and places less commonly observed. His newfound supplicant had a lively purple and orange that broke up her charcoal grey hide.
"I find your use of flame interesting. If I may, could you explain to me how you create those marvelous jewels of Incendere?" the Sauri asked boldly.
Oh ho!? A mage? It was Ulric's lucky day. He didn't have much chance to speak with those gifted in the art of magery, not since leaving Irielhos. There simply weren't many who attained enough mastery of raw mana manipulations outside of the somewhat rigid gifts of the Akashic classes. True mages were rare and potentially far more dangerous than their more standardly classed counterparts. And this one, wanted to exchange that most precious of riches: knowledge.
Ulric smiled a greeting and gestured at the ground, concentrating briefly to pull up another stone bench for his guest. Her lips parted to show sharp daggerlike teeth in a fearsome grin at the casual display of spellwork. He offered a fur to use as a padding but the Sauri waved it away and sat eagerly, using her coiled tail as a cushion. Ulric suppressed a wince but the Beastkin evidenced no discomfort so it must be fine.
The now thoroughly fascinated Sauri smoothed down her thick armored dress unnecessarily clearly making time to gather herself. While she did, Ulric grabbed himself another piece of bone to begin carving the old bearded, one eyed man totem he'd been practicing. Bone was difficult to work, far more so than it would have been in the Before, due to the innately stronger and also magically bolstered physiology of the beasts of Varda. Since Ulric's carving knives and awls were of the teeth of the one-time alpha predator of the continent though, they made easy work of incising the bone. Cutting too deeply was the greater problem for him.
"I see you have some experience in the game of trading, since you have not offered terms and await my opening to exploit your superior position." Began the Sauri, with a more serene expression than her earlier excitement.
Ulric contented himself with a nod and nothing more, continuing to carve his piece, which earned him a slightly sardonic laugh from the Beastkin mage. In truth, Ulric was exceedingly happy to learn what he could from this unexpected meeting. He'd not spoken at length with the Sauri, nor many Beastkin in general, they being far more present in Prespang than in Orlethrem. He'd certainly never traded wizard pointers with them, and stood to gain a tremendous amount of knowledge even from things the woman before him might consider commonplace. Even so, they were playing a game and that game had some rules to it. It would be gauche for him to not abide by the age old tenants of barter.
"Very well then, I will begin." Announced the Sauri mage, relaxing into the bargaining, "My name is Werona Autumnclaw and I am an ash cored adept. My command of Incendere, Caelum, and Terra are strong but I have not seen this manipulation you have so casually used to treat your bone artwork. I might say that such a peaceful use for so deadly a construct is surprising. You are aware that those beautiful fire gems are extremely easily weaponized, are you not?"
Ulric laid aside the carving in his lap for a moment and focused to first create the necessary white mana and then to inflect it into the familiar Incendere waveform, molding the energies into those dense not quite crystals of solid fire. Five jewels hovered momentarily in place between them and then spun, creating a ring of burning light as they traced a path of heated air. He slowed the spin and let three of the jewels drop into the dirt, immediately sending up a plume of steam and hissing earth. When the cloud of vapor dissipated there was a vitriolic glass where the flamedrops had landed. The other two kept their spin, slower now.
"The initial spell was a refinement of an earlier one, made as a somewhat crude fireball that exploded to send a wave of flame around its impact. The conflagration was potent enough to harm even thick armor." Ulric explained, offering his magical colleague the information as a freebie for being open.
That [Flame Crash] had, when properly juiced up, melted the face and scorched the lungs of an Ogran in sturdy armor, which peoples were already robust and tough on their own. These little [Cinder Pearls] would, and had, carve through solid stone like butter. Several of the beasts he'd struggled with would have been better dealt with using this spell than his [Lightning Javalins]. They were much slower than the electrical discharges and more prone to missing, but their sheer destructive potential was greater. Up to a point, he'd found swiftly diminishing returns [Overcharging] this spell compared to [Lightning Javalins]. The Ceraun spells scaled better with more input. For his flame magic, they were better out of the box, so to speak, but gained less from the addition of more mana.
"My name is Ulric Twiceborn and I am an Elementalist classed Ceraunic cored adept. It is good to meet a fellow artisan of the craft." Ulric said smoothly, offering his class, in addition to his core as a gesture of good faith and to put his compatriot here off balance.
Neither his class, obtained by learning the use of all basic elemental harmonics and creating a spell with each, nor his lightning natured core were common. Ceraunic cores were vanishingly rare amongst the sapients, or so Instructor Gother had told him, and were almost exclusively only found in certain Greater beast variants.
That fact checked out because Ms. Autumnclaw here was leaning forwards on her elbows and staring intently, with an almost hungry look to her eyes. They flicked between the circling flames and him eagerly.
"OHH? So rare, so very aberrant. Yes, this is a fortuitous meeting indeed. Did you- No, mercy me, that is private, would you tell me how it is you went about condensing the magic without it shedding so much heat you could not bear being so close to it?" the Ash witch inquired.
Ulric couldn't so much as open his mouth to get a word in before she rode over him in her enthusiasm, imploring, "I feel the intensity of the working, but the magic is incredibly well contained, not leaking mana, though I feel its heat clearly. This is a tightly woven, efficient spell and its method of casting is beneficial not only for this one application but for others I can think of. I will offer coin, knowledge, or a single year, no, two of indentured servitude as your apprentice for it."
That sat him aback instantly and he released the spell. What the fuck? Was she serious- Oh no, fuck, she is more than serious, this lady is drooling to know how to make those fire pearls. Money and servitude were straight out. He had enough of the one and needed not the hassle of the other. His peace being disturbed by Taipan was one thing, they'd sort of evolved into a partnership rather than the servant and lord relationship that they'd started out as, to say nothing of their initial state of being enemies. No, he'd not saddle himself with another stranger to tag along and bother him.
Knowledge it was.
