Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

“Ach, don’t look so grumpy~.” A playful smile dances across Beryl’s lips as she leans right up against the barbarian’s side, hugging onto a strong black-scaled arm. “O’ all the ways ya could ‘ave wasted the morning, this was at least enjoyable, aye~?”

Krvavy takes a long, deep breath. “Yeah...” She very reluctantly sighs back. “But did you have to let me sleep for so long...?”

“My dearest love.” The Elf meets her lover’s gaze, her voice more than a little firm. “Ya needed the rest. Ya spent the last week pushing yerself, stayed up far too late last night, and ‘ad an active mornin’. It would’a been irresponsible o’ me ta wake ya up sooner.”

“Only one of those things is my fault.”

Beryl simply shrugs her shoulders and peels herself away from Krvavy’s side, turning her attention towards the pot cooking over the fire. A softly hummed tune whispers through the air as she scoops some stew into a wooden bowl, making sure to get plenty of meaty chunks in the process, before adding a sprinkling of herbs and passing it into Krvavy’s hands.

The barbarian takes that meal, her pale cheeks flushing ever so faintly as her stomach rumbles loud enough for all those around her to hear. Ignoring her Elf’s light giggle, she brings a spoonful of the hot stew up to her lips and blows on it, cooling it down just a bit.

“Did you buy a book?” Thea calls out from across the room, her voice sounding oddly accusatory.

“Yeah.” Krvavy answers, her carnivorous teeth effortlessly chewing through the tender and soft bits that make up this delicious stew. She swallows down that hearty bite before turning to look at her brat. “It was pretty heavily discounted and I thought it might be useful.”

Thea’s brow furrows just a bit as she looks down at the plain and empty cover of that book, having unwrapped the canvas it was packaged up in. “What is it ab–... Oh.” Her question trails off as she opens it up to the first page. “That is... quite the title.”

“Yup, sure is~.” Krvavy can’t help but smile as she takes in the sight of her little princess’ swiftly souring expression. It is almost as if that beautiful brat was expecting to find something exciting instead of what is essentially a boring textbook. “And you’d best get used to seeing it, because you’ll be reading it with me.”

The noble girl tilts her head back and lets a whined groan pass through her parted lips. “Ugh... whyyy?”

The barbarian blinks rather blankly, staring straight at that silver-blonde brat. “Because I can’t read your language...? Did you forget that I only ‘learned’ how to speak it because of a trait?”

“Hmph, of course...” Thea sighs and closes the fighting manual, before placing it aside. “Wait...” She pauses. “If you cannot read, then... then how were you able to correctly spell what was written on that collar?! Neither ‘Khalia’ nor ‘Krvavy’ are actual words!”

“I just spelled it all out.”

“What?!” A rather bewildered, and increasingly exasperated, look fills this bratty noble’s face. “How...?! That does not make any sense!”

“Look, I don’t know how Not So Cunning Linguist works.” Krvavy shrugs and takes another bite of what really should have been her breakfast... “So don’t expect an explanation. I just said the letters and it translated them correctly. There’s really not much more to it than that.”

“Then why do you need my help to read that book?!”

“Because I have no idea what each letter is supposed to look like?” The Drakling dryly replies, a single eyebrow raised. “Are you really arguing about this? Don’t you want to spend some time with me? It’ll just be the two of us, cuddled up somewhere nice and cozy~...”

“Ugh...! Sh-shut up!” The brat huffs back, her cheeks flushing a deep red hue. “When are you leaving already?!”

A bit of frustration and annoyance prickles at the back of the barbarian’s brain as she is reminded of the fact that she should be outside right now, rushing through the hills and the woods towards that bridge... “Soon as I’m done eating.” Krvavy softly sighs. “So... in a couple minutes.”

“Well, about tha’...” Beryl speaks up, drawing her Draconic lover’s gaze. The innocent smile spread across her face is... quite suspicious, to say the least. “Ya can’t leave just yet, my dearest love.”

“And why is that?” The barbarian’s emerald eyes narrow into thin slits.

That tanned tomboy casually places the lid back onto the pot of stew, before picking up a fire poker to... give the fire a bit of a poke, stirring the coals slightly. “Because Inanna ‘as some stuff ta give ya before ya go.”

“Really?” Krvavy’s skepticism shifts into curiosity as she turns and looks past their big moss-covered bed, gazing across the cave beyond their home. “Is she over at her forge?”

“Not anymore.” The Dwarf’s neutral voice carries through the room, drawing the Drakling’s attention just in time to see this shortstack walk through the doorway... with a dripping wet Were-Beast close behind her.

“Perfect timin’!” Beryl happily claps her hands together and steps away from the fireplace, grabbing up a couple towels and heading over to help dry that Orc off. “Our dearest love is gettin’ a bit impatient~.”

“I’m not impatient.” The barbarian clicks her tongue and stifles a sigh. “I wanted to leave hours ago...”

“And waitin’ a few more minutes won’t change tha’.” The Elf cheekily states, wrapping a towel around one of Khalia’s bestial legs and rubbing down that Were-Beast’s beige-brown fur.

Krvavy just shakes her head and focuses on her Dwarf. “What is it that you have for me?”

“Two things. The first of which would be these.” Inanna steps right in front of her Draconic lover and holds out a bundle of iron spikes, each one longer than her hand. Which isn’t exactly saying much, considering her rather short height.

Krvavy brings the bowl of stew up to her lips and finishes her food off as quickly as she can, before placing it aside and taking those spikes from her shortstack, who had been patiently waiting for her to do just that.

“Those are nails.” Inanna so helpfully states the obvious. “Rather crudely made ones at that.” Her thick brow furrows together, dark-grey lips twisting into the faintest of frowns. “A Dwarf would be shamed for forging anything of such low quality, especially something which should be as simple and easy to make as those...”

The barbarian lifts one of the spikes up and looks at it more closely. She checks another and sees the same thing as with the first. “There... are runes carved into these.”

“Yes.” The Dwarf confirms that observation with a nod. “Those nails are made to disrupt the flow of mana. Though they only work when embedded in what you want to disrupt the mana of.”

Krvavy blinks a couple times as she looks back and forth between Inanna and the sharp metal spikes in her hand. “So I just need to stab these into that lightning wizard to make it harder for him to cast any spells or even just use magic?”

“Yes.” Inanna gives another nod, her voluminous mass of coal-black hair bobbing with that mechanical motion. “The runes will be activated simply by being immersed in a high concentration of ambient mana, such as the space that a mana channel occupies. I recommend that you insert them into the shoulders or wrists, to best prevent casting with that particular arm.”

“That is... easier said than done.” The barbarian dryly comments.

“Yes. But it is better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them.”

“Well, alright. Guess I won’t be completely screwed if that grenade doesn’t work...” Krvavy shrugs her shoulders and places those large nails aside. It shouldn’t be hard to tie them onto her loincloth. “Thanks.”

“That seems rather... savage.” Thea speaks up, looking critically at those rather unassuming metal spikes. “I would not expect a Dwarf to make something like that.”

“Good.” Inanna glances towards the noble girl. “I would not want to be so obviously connected with something so crudely constructed.”

“That is not–”

“I know. You think that impaling people with sharp pieces of metal to prevent them from casting spells is primitive and barbaric.” The Dwarf plainly states, her copper-orange eyes piercing into that brat’s soft-blue pair. “And you would be correct. Items such as these are typically intended to be used on magical constructs, or to disrupt enchantments and runic matrices, but should be more than sufficient for use on a person of flesh and blood. Though of course there is nothing to stop said person from simply pulling these nails out of their own flesh. Beyond the pain, that is.”

Thea just shakes her head as she drops the topic. It isn’t like she really cares all that much.

“Ah think tha’ ya’ll like the second thing Inanna ‘as ta give ya even more than tha’, my dearest love~!” Beryl cheerily interjects, patting down Khalia’s buff belly with a smaller towel, wiping away any droplets of water still clinging onto that precious puppy’s muscled midsection.

The Were-Beast’s shaggy tail flicks back and forth behind her, drying itself off well enough, as she turns her head away in a poor attempt to hide the blush colouring her green-skinned cheeks.

“Mmm. Probably.” The Dwarf idly hums, stepping to the side and picking up a bowl filled with some rust-red paste that the Wood Elf prepared earlier. “The ‘second thing’ is that I will be painting runes on the bodies of both yourself and Khalia. Don’t worry, it will not take long.”

“Oh, that...” Krvavy trails off as a thought comes to her mind. “Wait, will this wash off easily? Because we’ll have to cross a river to get there...”

“That will not be a problem.” Inanna calmly reassures, scooping some of the paste onto her fingers and carefully smearing it across the barbarian’s abs. “Once I am done setting up the runes, the only way to prematurely remove them would be to physically scrape off a layer of your flesh. The magic in the runic matrix will bind it to you until it has been activated and run its course.”

“Alright... How do I activate these runes then?” Krvavy asks, sitting up a bit straighter and raising an arm up to get it out of her Dwarf’s way.

“You would do so using a keyglyph that I have carved into a small disk-shaped stone. Simply push mana into the keyglyph while pressing it against your collarbone. The correct spot will be marked as part of the runic matrix I am currently painting.” Inanna almost absentmindedly explains, focused more on spreading the rust-red paste across the barbarian’s body in a series of jagged and angular paths. She adds a few small lines of runic lettering here and there, using similar patterns of lines and triangles as she did when creating the water pump.

“Wha’ kind o’ protection will this give our dearest love?” Beryl asks, curiously watching the Dwarf do her work. “Ya didn’t say when ya asked me ta grind up tha’ paste.”

“It will depend on how much I can fit onto Krvavy.” Inanna admits with the subtlest of shrugs. “But it will include base armour, an increase of at least twenty points, as well as improved magic resistance, particularly lightning magic. Khalia will get similar benefits, though with more of a focus on increasing her physical defence, as I presume that Krvavy will relegate her to dealing with whatever guards there may be.”

A slight bit of colour fills the barbarian’s cheeks as her Dwarf perfectly guesses what she was planning on doing.

“Ach, tha’ is better than nothin’, but Ah was expectin’ more.” The Wood Elf clicks her tongue a little unhappily.

“There is only so much that can be done with what we have.” The Dwarf replies, pausing for a brief moment to look at the glob of rust-red paste covering the tips of her index and middle fingers. “Besides, what I listed is just the minimum. The actual amount of base armour and resistances that these runes will provide Krvavy will almost certainly be greater, though I do not yet know by how much. And that is to say nothing of the other forms of defence that she currently has. Such as her Oakflesh spell.”

“That won’t interfere with these runes?” Krvavy asks, feeling a little odd about how Inanna is pretty much talking as if she isn’t right here.

“No.” Inanna seems content to leave her answer at just that, but decides to elaborate after seeing the barbarian’s inquisitive gaze. “Spells of that variety are, like most forms of magic, not the most common amongst my people. But neither are they unheard of. Stoneskin and Ironskin, in particular, are ones which I have come across before. And so, the runes I am painting onto you are designed to work in conjunction with such spells, in the off chance that the person they are applied to does utilize them. Such as yourself.”

“Well, while we’re on this topic... What really is the difference between those ‘skin’ and ‘flesh’ spells?” The Drakling curiously asks, trying to hold her arm completely still as bands of jagged lines get painted onto it. “Are some just outright better than others?”

“Mmm. There is no easy answer to that.” The Dwarf hums, tilting her head to the side and critically looking Krvavy up and down, as if the barbarian was merely a canvas and not an actual person... who she dearly loves. “At a lower level, yes, some of those spells are simply inferior to others. But at higher levels they can provide unique benefits depending on how you shape the magic that goes into them. As far as I am aware, those benefits tend to be associated with the school of magic the spell falls under, though there can still can be differences within. For example, the aforementioned Stoneskin and Ironskin could provide different benefits that I myself am not privy to, likely regarding specific resistances, while a spell such as Steelskin would almost certainly be an outright upgrade to Ironskin.”

“Aye, and while not as focused on raw defence as those Earth Magic spells,” Beryl speaks up, adding onto what that shortstack has said, “ya should eventually be able ta alter Oakflesh ta increase yer ‘ealth regeneration. Ah’ve never done so myself, but the one who taught me tha’ spell used it like tha’.”

“It is also important to consider the potential drawbacks that spells of this variety may have.” The Dwarf continues in her normal, neutral tone. “There may be instances where you wish to enhance a specific aspect of the spell, which may weaken another part as you shift its foundations around. The most obvious example would be using your Oakflesh, where you may gain a weakness to fire as the cost of increasing your defence. That is not something that you strictly need to worry about though. The spell would only gain such a drawback if you were to push it beyond your capabilities.”

“Aye,” the Wood Elf agrees with a nod. “As ya know full well by now, magic is more than just the Skills ya ‘ave. Alterin’ yer spells can be a bit confusin’ ta get yer ‘ead around at first, but once ya figure it out it becomes as easy as breathin’! Or, well, not quite tha’ easy, but ya get wha’ Ah mean.”

“It would, perhaps, be valuable to know how to do it before you go off and attempt to assassinate an accomplished mage, but no matter.” Inanna gently shakes her head as she gestures for Krvavy to hold still, smearing some of the rust-red paste onto the barbarian’s neck and face. “I am sure that, in time, you will get to the point where altering the foundations of your spells as you cast them becomes second nature to you. Your ridiculous affinities guarantee as much, I would say.”

The barbarian can see concern on Beryl’s face before she is forced to close her eyes.

“If only ya ‘ad more time ta train, my dearest love... Ya are likely half the level o’ the man ya plan ta kill... Ah pray tha’ these preparations, and the fact tha’ ya’ll be fightin’ wit’ Khalia by yer side, are enough ta ensure yer victory...”

“Mmm...” Inanna pulls back and softly hums as she looks over her work. “There, I’m done.” She states, shifting her attention towards the Orc. “It’s Khalia’s turn now.”

“Rrrrrgh...” The Were-Beast woman quietly growls as the Dwarf makes her sit still.

Krvavy idly trails a finger over the runes painted onto her skin and scales. She can just barely feel the paste, which seems to have dried far quicker than it should have... Shrugging ever so slightly, the Drakling turns towards her Elf. “I’ll be fine.”

Beryl’s lips twist into a faint frown. “Ah... Ah’m just worried.” She slowly sighs, gently clasping Krvavy’s hand in her own. “Ya are takin’ a big risk.”

“I know, but this chance... I can’t just ignore it.”

“Krvavy, Krvavy, Krvavy...” The Wood Elf quietly mutters her lover’s name, shaking her head. “My dearest love, at least tell me tha’ ya will come back through the grotto...”

“I... can’t promise that. But I can promise that Khalia will come back alive.” The barbarian’s expression hardens as she closes her eyes. “There is no way I’m letting her die out there, even if it means–”

Beryl’s lips suddenly press against Krvavy’s own, silencing the Drakling with a gentle kiss. “Don’t forget wha’ ya ‘ave waitin’ fer ya ‘ere...” The Elf quietly whispers that request, before pulling back entirely.

“I won’t.” Krvavy promises, softly squeezing Beryl’s hands one last time before they slip away.

“Ugh, do not act like this is the last time you’ll see each other...” Thea grumbles and rolls her eyes as she steps towards the barbarian. A bit of worry is visible in the brat’s face, but as usual she is trying to act like she doesn’t care.

The barbarian simply opens her arms up and tightly hugs Thea, running her fingers through her princess’ silver-blonde hair. “I love you too.”

“I-I did no – Ugh!” The bratty girl huffs out, her face flushing bright red. “Just... do not do anything stupid! More stupid than what you are already doing!”

“I’ll try, but you know how I am~.” Krvavy teases the girl, ruffling Thea’s hair and making a mess of it.

Thea scowls slightly as she leans in to give the barbarian a quick kiss, before pushing away Krvavy’s arms and escaping from their hug. The brat retreats without saying another word, still trying to keep up her aloof act.

Krvavy just smiles and shakes her head. She missed her girls, she really did. It is a shame that she is leaving so soon, but it’ll just be for a few more days...

The barbarian slowly rises to her feet, taking stock of herself. Krvavy already has everything she’ll need all packed up and ready. Well, except for those nails and the keyglyphs. She doesn’t want to lose those. But is there anything else...?

“Oh!” The barbarian quickly turns towards Inanna, who looks to be nearly done painting runes onto the Orc. “How long will these runes last once they’re activated?”

“Around half an hour.” The Dwarf answers without taking her focus off of Khalia. “Depends on how much strain they are under. The more you get hit, especially with magical attacks, the less time they will remain active.”

Krvavy raises an eyebrow. “Just half an hour?”

“Do you need more than that?” Inanna idly asks, her neutral tone making it seem like that is more of a rhetorical question than anything. “Your Oakflesh spell only lasts twenty minutes. As such, it felt worthwhile to sacrifice its uptime for greater effectiveness.”

“No, that should be fine.” Krvavy replies, nibbling on the inside of her cheek. It is a bit worrying to essentially have a time limit like that, but if the fight lasts longer than half an hour... Well, she probably wasn’t going to win anyway at that point...

Closing her eyes, the barbarian does her best to simply enjoy these last few moments at home.