Noble Arcana

If everyone is selling picks, no one is mining

A dwarven proverb

The ritual preparation itself wasn’t too complicated. He recognized a number of runes from the mana transference ritual as well as those that surrounded his Uncle’s backdoor method of reaching the repository. The most unique element of it was a line in old drakthic specifically calling out to The World. He wrote it all in ink infused with manarite dust and when he was done he gave it one last thorough review before placing his hands in the circle and pushing his mana into it.

There was the usual moment of blackness, followed by his arrival in the grand ballroom of the Arcana. The murals of the major arcana looked down upon him and the halls were already filling with his peers. Some of them gave him a respectful nod as he arrived, while others offered up only jealous glares.

He walked toward the pillar where he usually met the Knight of Pentacles, glancing all around the room as he did so. He noticed, in the balconies above, that he could see a number of the major arcana. The Empress, Death, The Lovers, Judgement, The Hierophant, and even The Magician were all looking down at those milling about below them.

Solomon briefly caught the eyes of The Magician, who gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement which he returned respectfully. This of course, drew yet more glares.

He reached the Knight who was in her usual spot.

“Page,” she said with a friendly tilt of her head.

“Knight,” he responded with one of his own, taking his place next to her.

“Any idea what that’s about?” he asked, gesturing toward the major arcana above them.

“Something’s coming, still unsure what though. The last time there was this much activity the Major Arcana put out a bounty for any information about a man that had defected from the Union, a high ranking inquisitor named Brogdan. They offered a choice of one of more than a dozen enchanted items or spells based on one’s contribution.”

“Did you manage to get anything?”

She shook her head. “I was the Three of Pentacles then. I was too busy scraping together a decent grimoire to attempt to hunt down information on an inquisitor. A half-dozen minor arcana wound up being captured or killed by the Union searching for him too.”

Solomon nodded, casting another curious glance up at the balcony.

“So, have my spells proven useful for you?” she asked. “I mean, clearly you’re here so at least that one worked.”

“Both of them have been useful already, thank you.”

“Your gold was thanks enough,” she said, a bit of amusement bleeding into her voice. “Since you’ve arrived here I’ve extorted enough from you to live quite a bit more comfortably. You’re quite the generous patron.”

“You are ever so welcome, Knight,” he replied dryly.

He took his leave of her and made his way to the ledger room where he browsed what was on offer.

Seeking: Historical texts related to the Necromancer Rebellion written during the event

Offering: A necromancy spell or ritual of equivalent value

Seeking: The death of a man in Etling

Offering: A grimoire detailing basic fleshaping, 200 gold Draks, An enchanted sculpting knife

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Seeking: A potion that causes permanent inebriation

Offering: A lock of hair from a dryad, The wings of a lesser fae

Offering: Gloves that reveal the history of what they touch once per day

Seeking: 300 gold Draks

Seeking: A means of entering another’s dreams

Offering: The ritual for creation of a zombie

Seeking: Drake’s Blood

Offering: A potion of health and healing

Even as he read the ledger another several requests for what he guessed were alchemical ingredients began to populate within it. It seemed that the reward for killing a man in Etling had increased. He was again curious about who the target could be, but he had no interest in putting his name next to it to find out. He wrote his own title next to the first entry seeking Necromancer Rebellion texts and then turned to the page where he could write his own requests, penning one quickly.

Seeking: A spell or ritual to allow one to wield and ancestral weapon not bound to their bloodline

Offering: The means to create an advanced homunculus, demonic summoning ritual, or array of basic spells

He wasn’t sure of the exact cost of such a spell, but if there was a greater price than what he was offering, he could always pass the burden onto James if needed. He didn’t want to offer gold, as he’d already dipped heavily into his own finances. He needed to be careful of how much he leveraged. He added another request below that one.

Seeking: An advanced list of runes and their meanings

Offering: Three basic spells of my choosing, a spell for shrouding one in darkness, a spell of Perfect Recall

There were still a number of runes he wanted to be able to decipher that his great uncle had left behind. The suit of armor in particular he wanted to gain a greater understanding of. He had the distinct impression that it was meant to be more than just a doorman.

Once he was done he went to exit the room and found himself entering one of the side rooms made for negotiating deals. A distorted pure white humanoid shape was seated in a chair facing him. It seemed that the one seeking accounts of the Necromancer Rebellion was ready for him.

He approached and sat across from the shape.

“Good evening,” he said casually.

The figure cocked its head to the side.

“What is it that you’ve found?” asked a distorted voice that oscillated between male and female, high and low, gravelly and clear.

“I’ve located a diary kept by a young girl that lived in Lantiss. It describes her life, the city being taken by the undead, and her attempts to survive… up to a point.”

The white shape was still for a few moments, considering what he’d said.

“I will exchange for this. I can offer you a choice between three spells. One which will allow you to create a skeletal minion. One that will allow you to commune with the spirits of the dead. One that will allow you to bind the souls of lesser creatures to your service.”

Solomon pondered for a few moments. A skeletal minion could certainly have value, but there were a number of practical concerns related to having one. Where would he find it? Where would he keep it? He had also seen and heard several similar spells on offer from others in the minor arcana. He dismissed that one. The other two were much more appealing.

“By lesser creatures what do you mean?”

“Animals. It will allow you to control the ghosts of rats, birds, and other such creatures. They can create small sounds, cause others to feel a chill, and the more intelligent ones such as cats and dogs can be used to scout or patrol an area.”

“And the spell for communing with the spirits of the dead, what does it require?”

“Close proximity to the corpse, and a ritual. It works best if one knew or was related to the dead. They will be required to answer three questions upon the completion of the ritual, but some have been known to answer more.”

Solomon nodded. “I choose that one.” While the ability to bind the spirits of lesser animals was valuable, he’d just passed by his Uncle Victor’s grave. The answers he could get from him… who killed him? What is the repository? How had he bound an elven god? The value to the answers he could get from him couldn’t be measured. It was possible he had some of those answers in his uncle’s journals of course, but luckily he had packed those he’d not yet translated. If he could decipher them before he returned to the Morrow Estate he would know exactly what was worth asking.

“Deal,” responded the white shape. “World act as witness.”

He felt its attention on them as the deal was sealed. He stood from his seat, gave a respectful goodbye and made his way back into the grand ballroom of the arcana. He leaned against the pillar with the Knight for a short while listening to the other minor arcana speak and wondering when the Major Arcana would do whatever it was they were planning on, but they never did more than talk amongst one another and occasional glance down at what their lessers were doing.

The meeting ended with no other significant happenings and Solomon said a brief goodbye to the knight before finding himself back on the rocking ship. He took a few moments to reorient himself, then stood to retrieve water and a rag. He wiped up all evidence of the ritual and went to his hammock, clutching the Crimson Command to his chest as he fell asleep.