Noble Arcana

A spell is only as useful as a mage is creative.

High Magus Luther

Solomon took a small scalpel from the table, ensuring it was clear of any dust or debris, then he cut himself across the forearm. He infused his mana into the blood and then made the gesture for blood control. After that he made the blood move out of his arm and into one of the vials. Once it was filled, he clotted the blood on his arm and corked the vial. He held it in his hand for a few moments watching the blood shift inside. The mana he’d put into it faded, but not entirely. If he focused he was still able to sense it.

He moved to the other side of the desk and placed the vial down. He then moved away from it and made the gesture for blood control. The vial shattered and the blood flew into the far wall as a series of sharpened barbs. Solomon didn’t release his control and leave the blood on the wall, instead drawing it from the wall and placing it in a new vial which he corked. It wasn’t a fireball, but if he drew enough blood it could certainly increase his options.

He reopened the scab he’d created and drew three more vials that he filled with mana-enriched blood before resealing the wound. He didn’t feel too lightheaded after the draw, but he didn’t want to push himself any further and cause negative effects. He grasped the vials, decided to leave two there and carry the other two in his coat pocket. He wasn’t sure of how long they would remain effective, nor did he know if being near him and his mana would make a difference. He took one of the vials and approached the chain, opening it and pouring out a single drop of mana-enriched blood onto the metal. He watched as the mana faded from it, but noted that it wasn’t all at once. He then corked the bottle and slipped it back into his jacket.

He took a moment to check the time, and realized he had some time before he needed to eat dinner. He walked past the dead god’s corpse and into the smaller, more hidden chamber that held the ritual circle and the sphere inside which clouds expanded and contracted. He moved to it and placed a hand on either side of it, pushing mana into it.

He felt the sensation of falling and saw the explosion of lights and darkness around him before he found himself standing again in the repository. He took a moment to orient himself, looking at his wooden fingers, then he took a few steps forward. He moved toward the books on the wall. The scroll that had taught him blood control was back on the shelf where he’d first found it, as was the book that had eaten him when he’d first come there.

He began to walk along the shelves, looking at the books and scrolls that seemed to go on forever. He saw some made of human flesh, tablets of solid gold, and one book that seemed to age and turn to dust as he watched it before reforming again. Most of what he saw though, were plain scrolls and bound grimoires. He saw none that were labeled. It was as if each item was made for someone’s personal use, not meant to be shared, but had wound up in the library anyway.

Solomon walked straight for nearly fifteen minutes before he decided to stop. He seemed no closer to even finding the end of this shelf than he’d been when he started. As he’d walked he’d been searching for anything familiar, or identifiable that would help him to tell if the book posed a danger to him. So far he’d seen nothing. He looked at the shelf on the other side and began walking back, his gaze slowly moving up and down to identify anything that may be of use.

Eventually he saw a tan leather book on the lowest shelf near the floor. He approached it, looking at it carefully while maintaining a safe distance. The leather had a number of small bumps on it, and looked to be of poor quality. It immediately brought to mind the Grimoire he’d purchased from Four of Wands. He reached for it carefully, placing it on the ground and opening the cover delicately with one hand while staying poised to leap backward. He opened the book, and nothing happened. If he’d had a breath to let out, he would have.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

He picked up the book and began to look through it, leafing through the diagrams and instructions. The handwriting appeared to be the very same that he’d seen in the book of theory he’d been reading. Unlike that book though, this one was filled with a number of spells, rituals, and formulae for creating homunculi. Leafing through it he found mentions of everything from small eyes one could mold and use to monitor an area through to fully autonomous humanoids that could potentially pass for human, with the requirements becoming exceedingly complex in time with the creation.

Solomon looked to see if there were any he felt he could actually attempt, eventually finding one that seemed to be at his level.

Apprentice’s Aid

Ingredients:

½ ib Clay

1 Drachm Blood or Seed

1 fresh egg

1 Cup Fresh Milk

1 Hollowed out Gourd or Melon

First mix the clay with the blood/seed, infusing it with mana as it is worked

Second mix the fresh milk and egg, keeping them separate from the clay

Third Form the clay into the shape of a man and place it carefully into the hollowed out gourd or melon, then pour in the mixture of egg and milk

Fourth, bury in healthy soil and add it two drops of additional blood/seed daily

After one week, break the gourd.

This should produce a simple homunculus. It can only be moved by the infusion of additional mana by its creator and its uses are limited. Recommended to be used to assist in alchemical tasks that require constant stirring or similar.

It was an interesting spell, and one that he wanted to attempt, but unfortunately it wouldn’t be of any immediate help to him. He looked through the rest of the book, finding several far more complex potential creations, but most took months of work and required knowledge he simply didn’t yet have. In general the homunculi listed weren’t meant for combat so much as supporting a mage and their endeavors.

Solomon closed the book and placed it back carefully, memorizing where it was on the shelf so that he could locate it later. Halfway back to where he’d started he decided to change tactics. He stopped walking and simply looked at the shelf. He saw a book with a yellow cover and picked it up, he opened it and found only ancient elven. He carefully put it back and grabbed a scroll. He broke the seal on it and unfolded it, seeing hundreds of swirling letters in a language he didn’t recognize. He quickly rerolled it, but the letters stayed swirling in his vision even though he had no eyes.

After a few minutes of standing still the letters, mercifully, faded. He looked at the shelf again and saw a scroll of black paper and grabbed it. It didn’t seem to have any writing, but when he held it up to the light a number of words in Orcish appeared. He recognized the word dark and enshroud as well as some hand gestures, but his grasp on the language wasn’t strong enough to decipher it. He guessed it was some method of summoning a cloud of darkness though. He felt it would be useful, but he couldn’t read it so he put it back. He made a mental note to seek out books on Orcish, Elvish, and any other language he could find.

He began walking again, and caught a few words of Drakthic written in dark red on the edge of a scroll. He reached up and grabbed it, opening it carefully.

Paternal Protection

He read through it carefully, it detailed the drawing of a circle along with a number of runes, many of which he was surprised to recognize. The spell was fundamentally an agreement between two individuals who shared blood, a parent and child. One agreed to bear all the pain and suffering of the other until the time of their death.

He shook his head, grateful his father wasn’t aware of this spell. He was rather certain he would’ve been the one dying of illness had that been the case. No, that wasn’t entirely fair. He likely would’ve found a bastard instead.

It was another spell that, while interesting, didn’t do much to help him out of his current predicament. Still, he was glad that even with his haphazard exploration he’d not been eaten again, or immolated. He walked a few steps farther before he paused, and turned his wooden head back to the scroll.

He moved to grab it and then walked quickly back to grab the homunculus grimoire.