Okay! So that everyone isn't sitting around twiddling their thumbs... or do. It can be fun to twiddle. Here is how I am planning on doing things at first.
Everything will post at or around 23:00 EDT every day, (I tried using the time for this and it wants a date, which isn't relevant). 24 hours will be used to vote. Then 24 Hours will be used to write. So it will equate to roughly a chapter every 2 days. I am going to stick with this cycle for a while, see how it works with my schedule and life, then adjust from there as necessary.
What type of Vote will be used will be posted each time a vote is being called. For reference of stuff from the site, I think what I am doing is probably closest to CKII? However I am still getting used to things here, so this equivalent may change.
That means Chapter 1 will be posted tonight. I'll do a little count down timer for it's release.
As always, thank you all for your support! I hope you like it!
A thin, black line stretched across the horizon, and I squinted at it through the semi-transparent, floaty scroll thing that was hovering in front of me. It felt weirdly personal, like it knew stuff about me. Probably because it did. 'Name, Nakia Davids. Race, Handbook? Uh, right… something about druids?' I frowned. Did that mean I could turn into a wolf? Please let that mean I could turn into a wolf. 'A 'rare-wolf' heh, like a 'rare' book… who is a 'were'-wolf… heh. I'm hilarious?'
The line caught my attention again. It was still just sitting there, but… was it thicker than before? Nah, wait. Closer. That thing was definitely getting closer.
I glanced back at the scroll, hoping it had answers. But the moment I shifted focus, the scroll just blinked out of existence. Okay, rude. I stared at the line again, and yep, it was a lot thicker now. Or nearer. Or both.
"Uh, Admin?" My voice echoed awkwardly. "Hey, did you forget to, uh, you know, let me out before turning off the lights?" It wouldn't be the first time. Last semester, Professor Malone packed up his stuff, flipped the switch, and left an entire lecture hall full of students sitting in pitch darkness. Good times.
Nothing. No response. Of course. Admin Rat Guy—big muscles, literal rat face, somehow a manager of this whole weird thing—was gone. Completely. Just poof.
"I'm just saying," I continued to the void, "if this is part of the shaping thing, not cool. Like, really not cool. Also, that line? Not friendly. Not even a little. Admin? You're supposed to be the one in charge here! Can I just go be a book now? Or whatever it is I'm supposed to be? Because that line is—yep—definitely getting closer."
I swallowed. Was it just me, or did the void feel colder all of a sudden? I glanced around. up, he still wasn't here. "Gah!"
When I looked back towards the line, it was barreling down on me. Now a wall of dusty, black nothing. I didn't even have time to turn and run before it washed over me, trading one void for another.
Transition Completed
'Oh? OH! Oh… uh…' My thoughts stumbled over themselves as a new sensation hit me. 'I guess this is what a book feels like?' Yeah, that sounded about right.
I definitely took up space now… which was an odd thing to notice. When have I not taken up space? My mind drifted back to the sensation of being in the white void. I clicked back to reality as I realized that something pressed snugly against both of my sides, like I was sandwiched in a very tight space. Below me, something brushed the edges of what I could only assume was my… cover? Above me, though? Nothing. Just open air.
I couldn't see what I looked like, but somehow, I could feel it. I was just abou— A scroll, again semi-translucent, popped up in the void before me.
Handbook of the Druid, Eryngo: Twenty-three centimeters long. Fifteen and a half centimeters wide. Four centimeters thick. Leather bound. Handmade paper. Plant fiber stitching.
'Uh… okay? That was… oddly specific,' But it wasn't wrong. I mean, it felt right. The leather that made up my cover was smooth and soft, kind of like my baba's old notebook. Except I guess now I was the notebook. Neat.
The leather wasn't bound to anything stiff or cardboardy, just itself. And inside? I could feel paper. Bunches of it, folded and stitched into my spine. 'Not a creepy thought at all…' No glue, just thread. The paper was rough, the edges feathered. Was this stuff hand made?
Between my pages, there were… things. I couldn't see them, exactly, but I felt them. Like a memory I wasn't supposed to have. Plants? Yeah, pressed leaves and flowers for sure. Maybe even a feather? Oooh, mysterious. What kind of book was I? 'Oh right, Handbook of Druid… Erin-go? Eryngo?'
Oh! Writing! I had writing! What did it say? Was it ancient and cryptic? Cool spells? A recipe for cookies? No, wait—focus, Nakia. 'This is not the time to get distracted by baked goods.' But also… maybe a little distracted? Just for a second?
Oh… oh no… cookies. My heart sank and I began to feel sick. 'What have I done? Stupid! You chose a book! You can't have cookies! Or umm ali, or basbousa, or… oh no! Fresh baked bagels with cream cheese! Why?! Everything is my everything!'
As I sulked, I read over the writing inside me. It wasn't English or Arabic, but I could understand it as if it was. Handwritten notes filled my pages, some making references to either images sketched along side them or to the pieces pressed between my pages. Slowly my ennui began to fade as I became more and more engrossed in the writings.
It seemed I was the personal journal of a young person named Eryngo. They were a native to this Beta World, as far as I understood the term. The writings mentioned being born here, parents, etc. It seemed Eryngo had dedicated their life to trying to unlock a class: Druid. It definitely seemed like they were on the right path. Apparently, they had unlocked a rare class on their Evolution Day. A day when they reach a certain age the system becomes fully available to natives, and they unlock either a Class or Profession.
Their goal was to try and become a Druid by the next Initiation in twenty years, from the time of writing. 'Is that what happened to me? Initiation? I guess the Admin did keep calling me an initiate. But what happened? Did Eryngo become a druid?' The last entry was dated for four years before the Initiation. Nothing about it seemed out of place. Just nothing had been written after it. And nothing about becoming a druid.
'I think I would have liked you, Eryngo.' From what I could tell, they had been a fun loving, outgoing person who could go on and on about different plants and animals. Many of which, no, all of which I had never heard of before. It had taken some time to read myself, but only able to see, or really sense anything, 'It could have been minutes or hours.'
As I sat there, trying to imagine what this Eryngo was like and if they would have liked umm ali, something drifted past the edges of my mind. Was that right? 'Okay, I've been jumping around a little. Let's get organized... and make there aren't any bats in my belfry'
The dark void I found myself in wasn't the real world. I assumed that much. The real world was what I could feel. The stuff pressing on me… 'I think it is… wood? One side feels rough, while the other is… also rough? Just not as rough. Like it was smoothed but not polished. And that tickling along my edges beneath me? It reminds me of… dust. Yeah, I think that's right. Dust.'
The void wasn't my mind either. I could 'look' around the void, though I didn't have a body in the void to do so with? It was more like a ball or seed? It contained… me. But nothing was happening out in the void either. Well no, something was.
It was like a whisper, non-coherent and soft. 'It is coming from… that way?' It was the side of me that was pressed against the smoother wood. 'Wait, wasn't one of the skills on the list about whispers? Uh, show me Skills!' The scroll, my scroll popped up again. 'No, I didn't get that one… wait a minute. Before it changed, Knowledge Absorption said something about knowledge talking to me or something, right? But now it's… Resonant Scribe. That's it.'
By harmonizing the rhythm of your internal content with the ambient knowledge around you, you generate a steady flow of energy that restores both physical and magical energy. The more organized your thoughts and the richer your surroundings in information or structure, the more effectively you regenerate. This synergy of internal and external order fuels your vitality and intellect alike.
'Ambient knowledge?' I 'felt' about for the whisper and found it again. The more I focused on it, the more I could not just hear it, but see it as it floated into the void around me. It was like listening to a room of people, well, whispering all around me. Little motes and whisps of green light started to accompany it. 'This is so… weirdly cool.' The light, in more or less a straight line, floated towards me. 'Are you supposed to be doing that? Hey! Watch the face!' As it touched my 'center', a feeling of warmth spread out and filled me as if it, 'Was restoring my energy… neat!'
Slowly more strands and whisps of light started to float into my void space, each accompanied by their own whispers. 'They're books! They're other books! Hello! Can you hear me? Heellllloooooo! Huh, maybe they are just regular books? Not initiated like me. I guess that makes sense. I didn't choose to start near another Initiate. And I doubt intelligent books such as myself aren't that common.'
After several assumed minutes no new 'strands' had shown up. Now there were eight of them. Light green, reddish-brown, white, deep blue, pastel yellow, tan, grey, and… 'Let's call that one 'iron', yeah? Hmm, but what should I call these lines of energy? 'Strands' work but sound kind of bland for how cool they are. Oh, actually. Rhythm! Like from the skill. These are the rhythms of the other books. It's not just the colours though, is it? Each rhythm has a different 'voice' that it whispers in, so I think it makes sense.'
Light green being the first. Soft. Feminine. Like someone cooing to a nervous animal, careful not to scare it off. I liked her already. She felt safe, like curling up under a tree on a sunny day.
Reddish-brown practically barged in after her, all brazen energy and masculine swagger. He whispered, but it was the kind of whisper you use when you really want someone to hear you. Like, "Hey! Hey, kid! Wanna see something cool?"
Then there was White. Cool. Calm. Like the person in charge of giving directions at a theme park. Only, every now and then, they'd break from their script—just a hint of fondness here, a touch of hesitance there. A warning. A glimmer of hope. The kind of person who could probably hold your hand through a crisis and make you feel like everything was going to be okay.
Deep blue joined in next, rough but smoothed over, like sanded wood. He was excited, though—like a storyteller who couldn't wait to share his adventures. "Let me tell you what I've seen!" he seemed to say. I liked him too. He felt… solid. Like a good friend.
Then Pastel Yellow showed up, all direct and stern, like your favorite teacher who still gave pop quizzes. She was measured but not mean about it. Just, "This is the way it is, deal with it." I got the sense she didn't tolerate nonsense, which was a shame because nonsense was kinda my specialty.
Tan, though? Oh, Tan was a trip. Snobby, absurd, and dripping with condescension. "Listen, darling," he seemed to say, "if you're smart enough, I may just grace you with some useful information. Maybe." I rolled my metaphorical eyes at him but couldn't deny that he probably had some good points buried under that tone.
Grey sent shivers down my nonexistent spine. Haunting, ethereal, like a ghost weaving a story that faded in and out of hearing. I almost wanted to lean closer, even though it was spooky as hell. Like the feeling you get when you can't stop reading a scary book late at night.
And finally, Iron. Reverent and whimsical, like a little kid spinning their favorite story, eyes wide with wonder. "And then, you won't believe what happened next!" I couldn't help but smile at that one. It was just… pure. Unfiltered enthusiasm wrapped in something magical.
'So… what do I do now? I've read, well, myself. Now that I have, I can use that one skill, Infinite Layers, to find the different 'bits' written in me. But it's not like I can talk to these other books. I've tried that already. I can't move. So not going anywhere. Besides, I don't think I want to just yet. I like these rhythms and the feeling they give, its nice.' Can you smack yourself in the head when you can't move? No. No you cannot. That didn't stop me from trying to do so.
'Books! They're books! I have a skill for books! I can read them! I don't need to just sit here… well, I do but not doing nothing. Let's see here. Echoing Script, that is the one. 50 mana to activate… 10% mana locked? While in use? Oh yeah, Infinite Pages does that. I guess that is why my Mana says it is 814 out of 824? Now, what one should I 'read' first?'
I listened to the rhythms once more. 'I'm a little partial to… light green? Maybe deep blue. Oh! And pastel yellow!'
This is a Majority Rule Vote! With Approval!
(I don't know why, but I'm liking Approval. I will make sure to continue to note if it is in use for each vote thought.)
Nakia will, somewhere between on occasion and quite often, have an opinion on his choice preferences! This are not indicators of how you should vote! These are not hints for anything! If some thing besides what he was thinking was Voted for, that's okay! There will be a reason as to why his mind was changed!
Using Echoing Script will cost 50 Mana and will lock out 10% (82) of your Mana until the Copy Time is completed or cancelled.
(OOC: For your information. The lock out occurs first. Then the Mana cost will be subtracted. So in this case Locking out 10% of your Mana (on top of what is already locked out) will lower your Max Usable Mana from 814 to 732. Then the 50 Mana cost will be subtracted. Meaning at the beginning of Chapter 2, you will be starting with 682/732 (824). As rules and information such as this are brought up and implemented, they will be add to an Informational in the reserved section under Character Sheet on the first page.)
Mentally, I took a step back. 'Okay, okay, Nakia. You're getting all worked up about what book to read. Chill. It might be the only thing I can do right now, but…' I forced myself to focus. 'Breathe. In through the pages, out through the… pages? Right. I'm a book. I've got all the time in the world. Keep it simple.'
I steadied myself, trying to let the… the overexcited beating of my heart— 'No, wait. That's gone.' I don't have a heart anymore. But I still had the mind of someone who used to. That rush of thoughts, that weird, buzzy feeling when things got overwhelming? Yeah, still there.
'Used to…' My thoughts trailed off as I actually thought about it. 'I'm a book. I'm in a completely different world. This is all real, isn't it?' Sitting in that white void, making the choices. It had all been rather over whelming and I had just gone along with it. Not that I was complaining, much. Being a book was… interesting so far. Plus, 'I do have other books to read to keep me busy, at least.'
But even as I told myself that, a familiar dull ache settled in my center. Homesickness. I felt the warmth of the rhythms again, their gentle whispers buffeting against me. It was like they knew what I needed, even without me asking.
'Aw, thanks, guys,' I thought, the ache easing just a little. 'I'll be fine. Just… a lot to take in, I guess.'
'Right. Let's get this started. I chooooose… light green. Now… how do I do this? Is it like a spell… or do I do the Power Rangers thing and call out the name?' I thought of my scroll, and it unraveled before me. 'What was it again? Ah, yes. Echoing Script.' I focused on the skill and the light green rhythm. Something seemed to click into place and I watched as my mana ticked down.
Mana: 682/732(824)
The other rhythms started to fade, like they were stepping back to give someone else the stage. Not gone, just… quieter. That's when light green began to grow. The light thickened, gaining weight—if that even made sense—and her whispers got stronger. Not enough to make out, though.
'Oh. Oh, that itches. Ho! Oh!' The sensation hit me all at once, like an itch and a tickle. It spread across my pages, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh, shiver, or… sneeze? Can books sneeze? 'I wanna sneeze.'
I focused on the feeling, and that's when I saw it—writing, appearing on my pages. Each letter traced out in light green, slow and careful, like it was taking its time to get everything just right. After the outline was done, black ink filled in the letters, neat and tidy. But even then, the black wasn't just black. It had this subtle shimmer of green to it, like it couldn't quite let go of the light that had created it.
'Thankfully,' I thought as the sensation continued, 'the ink filled in dry. That would suck if I stained my own pages doing this!'
The itch-tickle combo eased a bit as more letters appeared, though the strangeness of it all lingered. 'This is… definitely a new kind of weird. I wonder if this is what getting a tattoo feels like?'
Wildlife of the Western Thickets
'Huh, not sure this is exactly what I was expecting, but…' I listened to Light Green's, no… Wildlife's rhythm and the comfort it gave off. 'It makes sense. Not only that, that is Wildlife I am 'listening' to. Not the author. They may have penned the words, but those words make up who, or rather what, Wildlife is.' I thought it over a few moments more before focusing back in on the text that was being transcribed into me.
Come closer now, little one, for I promise I mean you no harm. Let us sit quietly beside the old willow, where the breeze plays with the leaves, and watch our gentle neighbors roam the thickets. May this guide serve as a lamp in the twilight, showing you the shapes and shadows that call these woodlands home. We need not fear what we understand. Instead, with knowledge, we show respect to the furred and feathered souls who share our paths.
Wildlife was… wow. Definitely an interesting read. Right from the start, it had this soothing, inviting vibe, like it was saying, "Come on in, the woods are fine!" The tone wrapped around me, pulling me into its world of tangled woods, lowland fields, and gently rolling meadows.
The entries weren't just text; they came with the kind of soft sketches that made you feel like the artist really knew these creatures. Like they'd sat in the bushes for hours, watching and waiting just to get them right. There was the Velvet-Horn Briarstag, all elegance and moss-like thorns that covered its antlers. The Burrow-Furred Fizzle Hare, which sounded like it might sneeze itself into a puff of fur at any moment. Oh! And the Rust-Tail Brushfox—classic fox vibes but with that extra touch of whimsy.
Each creature came with these neat little descriptions, behavioral notes, and even tips for spotting their subtle signs. 'Like tracking a Brushfox's paw prints? Heck yes, please!' The pictures nearly making up for the fact that I would never actually see one.
And the maps! Oh man, the maps were something else. Simple, sure, but you could tell they'd been drawn with so much care. They showed dens, foraging grounds, and watering holes, like little treasure maps leading straight to these creatures' homes. 'It's like someone took the time to say, "Hey, this is their world too, and it's worth sharing."'
I couldn't help but soak it all in. If I still had lungs, I would've sighed. 'This book is pure magic! Oh man! I can't believe the detail they put into this!'
'If only it hadn't taken so long to transfer over!' It took longer than I had expected, but then again the pain staking precision with which each letter had been written… 'If I had actually been reading the book, I would have read it so much faster. I guess that could be a draw back of the skill? It is listed as Level 1… Wait, what's that?'
Race: Handbook, Level 0
Experience: 1.63/100
I had gained experience! 'What?! How?! What did I do? Was it from copying over Wildlife?' I stared at the number glowing in my mind. I had been so busy going over the text and admiring the drawings, I hadn't even noticed until after the copying had completed. '? That's so specific! But who cares? I got XP! Boom shaka laka BOOM!'
The thrill of that revelation alone had me buzzing, but it wasn't even the best part. Echoing Script—it didn't just transfer over the book. Nope. It had brought everything with it. Every handwritten comment, every little note in the margins, all of it. Personal encounters, sightings, things that worked for them and things that didn't.
'Eryngo, Wildlife was your book too!'
'I… don't think you wrote it like you did me, but still! That is your writing in the margins! I can recognize your handwriting anywhere! Wait…' I shifted my focus. The words and images across my pages began to shift and slide about as I dug through the information. 'You've been to some of these places. No, we've been to some of these places. I can see your own maps of them. Here… this one is the most recent…'
Take heed, little one, for among the soft rustle of leaves and the glow of emberwasps lies the domain of the Ash-Horn Nightstalker, a creature both reclusive and fiercely protective of its range. You will know its territory by the ragged scratches it leaves at the base of grayberry bushes, the resin being paralytic to any other beast. If you come across these markings, walk lightly, lest you stir its slumber.
Should you chance upon a Nightstalker, resist the urge to brandish blade or bow. Calm your breath, lower your gaze, and let it sense your stillness. Slowly place a handful of sweet, crushed frostroot at the edge of its path. The scent will soothe its ire—enough that you may retreat without bloodshed. In this quiet exchange, you respect the beast's authority over its home and avoid needless harm to you or the Nightstalker.
If you remember only one lesson here, remember this: Understanding the ways of the forest's guardians grants you safe passage. In reading these pages, you hold a key to peace over conflict, and I pray you use it with a gentle hand.
'This isn't too long before they disappeared… yada yada… possible sighting… grayberry bushes… Oh, Eryngo. Did you try and find this creature?'
Mana: 814/814(824)
'It looks like my mana is back to normal too. The 50 I was down refilled while I was copying the book.' When the lock was done though, the mana that had been locked away was gone. 'I didn't realize I was gonna have to regen that too. Hmm, makes mana planning a bit more important, eh? It does say 1 Stamina and Mana per minute. So that's pretty decent I guess, especially since the Admin said that is tough to do, or something. I guess that is a good way as any to keep track of time at the very least.' I studied my scroll intently.
Name: Nakia Davids
Species: Handbook, Level 0
Experience: 1.63/100
Health: 25/25
Stamina: 26/26
Mana: 814/814 (824)
Traits
Native - Your form resonates with the fabric of this world, marking you as one of its own.
Effect: Local creatures and inhabitants are less likely to treat you as an outsider or threat. You gain a slight edge in understanding the environment, customs, or languages.
Skills
Reading - Level 1
Description: You possess the inherent ability to comprehend any text written within you, regardless of language or medium. As long as it's inscribed in your pages, you understand its meaning entirely. Inherent
Writing - Level 1
Description: You can inscribe new words or symbols into your own pages at will. The writing appears as if created by an invisible hand and can include any language or cipher you understand. This ability allows you to record thoughts, observations, or information directly. Inherent
Resonant Scribe – Level 1
Description: By harmonizing the rhythm of your internal content with the ambient knowledge around you, you generate a steady flow of energy that restores both physical and magical energy. This synergy of internal and external order fuels your vitality and intellect alike. Passive: You regain 1 Stamina and 1 Mana per Minute Analyze - Level 1
Description: You can delve deeper into the essence of anything written in your pages or within your Aura Detection range. Analyze reveals intricate details such as magical properties, hidden meanings, or historical context, giving your wielder unparalleled insight. Active: 10 Mana Infinite Layers - Level 1
Description: Your pages defy the laws of physical space, allowing you to hold an infinite amount of knowledge and writing. Text begins to shift and overlap in surreal layers, with each piece of information accessible through intent or specific searching methods. Inherent: Locks 1.1% of Mana. Echoing Script - Level 1
Description: When placed near another book, scroll, or written text, you can absorb its contents into your own pages. This creates an exact copy of the text within you. The process is subtle and undetectable, preserving both the original material and your copied version. Over time, this skill could expand to copying enchantments or magical properties tied to the written work. Active Ongoing: 60 Mana. Locks 10% of Mana while in use.
'Hey! My XP went up again!' I tried to flutter my pages in excitement, forgetting I was wedged between other things. Nothing so much as twitched, and honestly, I wasn't sure if it would have even if I wasn't stuck. 'It's at 1.64 now. How?! I didn't copy anything new… I wonder what I did?'
Back home, I'd played some games. Mostly idle sims, because it allowed me to do other things while I played, but a few friends had roped me into trying Dungeons & Dragons. It had been a lot of fun, even though I never got to become a werewolf, and I knew enough to figure out the basics of how XP worked. Most of the time, you got it by killing things.
I felt about myself. Still only the two flattish surfaces on my sides and some dust beneath me. No corpses. Check. I flicked through my pages. Nothing smothered, besides the pressed plants, between them. Check. No ominous bloodstains on my cover, that I could tell. Triple check.
'Okay, so maybe it wasn't combat-related. Quests? Yeah, quests could give you XP too, if this world played by similar rules. But maybe not? Since I don't think you could be a book in D&D.' I zeroed in on my scroll again, hoping for some answers. 'Uh, quests?' I focused like I did to pull up my scroll. Nothing.
'Weird. I mean, I don't recall seeing any notifications for a quest,' I mused, 'and it's not like I could've missed them. Unless they're, like, super subtle? Or invisible?' That idea felt unfair. It was one thing to complete a 'hidden' quest, but not to receive an acknowledgment for doing so?
I grumbled inwardly, poking at the mystery like it might suddenly explain itself. 'Well, at least I'm getting XP… whatever it's from. But now I have more questions… like why was it so little?'
I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 2! Some of you may be starting to figure out some of the basics! I look forward to hearing your theories and thoughts.
I kept this chapter a little simple, didn't want to get into too much too quickly but still wanted to touch on a few things. Show how some things seem to work, etc. I also wanted to introduce a couple more options of what to potentially get into at this point. You are still a book, so obviously things may be a little limited at first, but I still want things to be interesting and engaging.
Majority Vote! With Approval!
[ ] Copy another Book
- Write in which Book
- Copy Time Still Applies
Reddish-brown – White – Deep Blue – Pastel Yellow – Tan – Grey – Iron
[ ] Piece through Eryngo's notes
- What happened to you writer? He clearly had a connection with the other books. What does Wildlife of the Western Thickets actually have to say about him?
[ ] Experiment with a Skill
- Write in Skill
[ ] Focus on the Rhythms
- Now that you've copied one of the books, can you use that to try and 'read' the rhythms and determine their content? Or perhaps there are other things you may have missed?
[ ] Focus on Surroundings
- Is there something you missed? Where actually are you?
[ ] Write In
- This is a chance to test a theory if you have one. Or do something you would like to check.
'Alright now. Let's see what Eryngo has to say.' With a metaphorical deep breath, I dove back into the notes, starting the process of rereading. Infinite Layers was a lifesaver. Well, maybe not a lifesaver, but definitely a time-saver.
It didn't organize or format the text—no bullet points, no neat little sections—but it let me kind of… scroll through for what I wanted. More like the words shifted out of the way? Watching it happen on my pages was almost mesmerizing. The lines of text twisted and glided like a kaleidoscope, reshaping themselves to highlight whatever I was looking for.
The first bit of good news? Eryngo hadn't gone looking for a Nightstalker. They'd marked down where they thought the creature's range was—noting some grayberry bush markings—but they'd never actually gone in. Smart move, especially since they didn't have the frostroot that Wildlife mentioned was crucial.
It seemed like Eryngo had dreamed of seeing one someday, but they'd had the good sense to know that heading into Nightstalker territory without proper precautions was basically danger incarnate. Especially since they hadn't unlocked a Druid class yet. Still, from what I could gather, they'd evolved their class at least once already, which meant they'd hit level 10. They had become a Forrest Warden, which sounded something like a Park Ranger?
Speaking of leveling… Eryngo's earlier journal entries went into surprising detail about how this whole System thing worked. Apparently, you start with basic classes or professions—nothing flashy for your first pick. But here's the kicker: nothing in the notes mentioned anything about Race. That felt important, somehow. 'I mean, I have a Race. I don't see anything for Class or Profession either. Hmm, could I get one? The notes say its possible to unlock the other later on if you have a class or profession, but that it is tricky. Huh, interesting.'
Eryngo confirmed that gaining XP mostly came from combat, quests, or doing stuff related to your chosen path. And there were other ways to earn XP—and even loot. Events and Dungeons.
Events were announced by the System and sounded like big multiplayer chaos festivals. Dangerous, sure, but manageable if you played your cards right. Dungeons, though? They were a whole different beast. Wilder, deadlier, but way more rewarding.
'Huh,' I mused, skimming over another note. 'It seems it was an event that Eryngo was gearing up for.' From the sound of their notes, it seemed like a fairly standard one, though "standard" probably still meant "life-threatening." 'I don't know, Eryngo, but you seemed to know what you were talking about.'
A warmth welled up inside me as I lingered on their words. 'But you would have taken me with you, right?' It wasn't like I'd be much help as a book, but still… it would've been nice to be part of their story. But they would have taken me… well before the book was me, right? Eryngo seemed to have had taken me everywhere. 'So… what happened?'
It wasn't time for the event. Not yet. I searched through Eryngo's journal and flipped through the notes scribbled in Wildlife, hoping something would pop out at me. But nothing stood out. No hints, no warnings, nothing to explain what had happened. It was like Eryngo had gone to the market one day and just… never came back.
'Something tells me things would be a lot more fun if I was still with you, Eryn—' My thought cut off mid-sentence. 'What was that?'
I froze. The dust beneath me had shifted, brushing faintly against my cover. 'Hello? Is someone there?'
Inside my void, nothing had changed. The rhythms still whispered, their gentle presence dancing around me as if they hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Which, to be fair, they probably hadn't.
'Okay, focus. What am I feeling?' I focused in on the sensations around me. I was still wedged snugly in place, with nothing above me but open air. Dust below—wait. 'Oh…' Something felt off.
It was subtle, but unmistakable. That sense you get when you forget to wear your ring or watch, and your skin can't stop nagging you about it. Like something was supposed to be there but wasn't. That's what it felt like.
And then—'hold up, what is that?' Something fluttery and soft brushed against my pages, tickling in a way that made me want to squirm. I could feel the faintest hint of whiskers skimming along, too. 'Is something sniffing me?'
'What do we have here? A mouse or something?' My text rippled across my pages as something tugged at my attention, the feeling pulling me toward whatever was out there in the dust.
Though many dismiss the dewmous as little more than a whiskered nuisance, I find their ingenuity worth a moment's admiration—provided they remain at a respectful distance. These nimble creatures collect dried leaves, bits of straw, and any scrap of cloth or paper they can drag away, tucking their nests into the quiet gaps between walls and beneath floors. While their insulation can keep a house cozy in colder days, the same tinder-like materials pose a real danger should an errant spark arise.
If you wish to avoid a larger infestation, gentle deterrents often work best: sprinkle a handful of pungent herbs near suspected nest sites or seal common entry gaps with damp cloth. The dewmous prefer dry comfort and will generally seek new shelter on their own. By showing these small scurriers a firm yet considerate hand, one may avoid harm to both hearth and home.
A chill gripped my center. 'Scraps of paper… Scraps of paper?!' I focused back in on the touch along my pages. 'Shoo! Shoo! Go away! Leave my paper alone!'
The nose pulled away, as if it heard me. 'Oh, thank goodn-nooo!' Little hands pawed at my pages. 'Don't do that! Drop it!' The paws grabbed ahold of one of the feathered edges and tugged at it.
'Please stop, I'll… I'll give you some cheese? I don't know where I'll get it, but I'll find you some! No! Put those teeth down! Stop it!' Sharp teeth came up between the paws and pressed against my paper. 'Come on, please?'
The teeth bit into my paper and pulled tearing through it. I've had cuts, bumps, and bruises. Never in my life had I ever had anything torn out of me! Heat bloomed around the torn edge of my page. The dewmous had managed to tear off the corner of an uneven page that had stuck out just a bit further than the rest.
Health: 23/25
'I'm going to be killed by a mouse!'
That ends Chapter 3! Woo! How's that for drama? This has been fun to write. Again, I hope ya'll are enjoying it!
I've been wondering how much information to present for this next vote. I decided on a little bit of a limited approach. I think this one will work best as a Majority Vote, no Approval. So you get one vote each! Use it wisely. HINT: Think 'personality'.
Votes:
[ ]"The Quiet Tide – A calm and introspective soul, seeking understanding over conflict."
[ ]"The Guiding Lantern – A steadfast light, thoughtful and balanced in their actions."
[ ]"The Wild Flame – A fierce energy, driven by passion and untamed resolve."
My center shuddered, the ache of my torn page still throbbing but dulled now—more like a bruise than the sharp, searing pain of it being ripped away. Heartbeats passed, or they would have if I still had a heart. And yet, the dewmous was still here. I could feel the dust twitching and shifting as it scurried through it, busy with whatever mysterious mouse business it had going on.
'I would really like you to leave now!' I stretched my senses as far as they'd go, trying to home in on every tiny movement of dust, every whisper of air. The shifting words of my pages froze in place as its paws returned, the little pattering pittered along my edges. It was touching me. Tugging. Exploring the length of my pages.
'See? Nothing left for you to take! All nice and neatly wedged together now, yeah?' I focused harder, trying to will the dewmous to hear me. 'Please, listen! Look at all this dust! So soft, so dry, and oh-so-tasty, probably. Doesn't that sound nice?'
The tiny paws stopped, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I'd gotten through to it. But then its nose and whiskers brushed back in, followed by the soft dampness of its breath as it sniffed and poked around.
And then it found something it liked.
'No, no, no!' The dewmous leaned in closer, its teeth touched to one of my pages. The damp warmth of its breath lingered for a heartbeat before—'Agh!'
Its teeth closed in—not to rip, but to nibble. Delicate little nibbles along a small stretch of page. 'What are you doing?! Who does that?!' My mind reeled as I felt the loss of a tiny section.
Health: 18/25
'Ya lahwi!' The searing burn of those tiny teeth flared and then dulled into a throbbing ache as the dewmous wrested its prize free. 'Your mother was a sewer rat! Leave me alone!'
And then it was gone, disappearing back into the dust and leaving me alone with my pain, my fear, and my steadily crumbling dignity. 'Please… just stop.'
For a moment, I hoped it might actually listen. The dust settled, and everything went still. But no. Of course not. The dust shifted again, and those tiny paws returned, brushing against the edges of my pages. I barely had the energy to panic this time, resignation sinking into my very binding.
The paws froze, gripping a page edge like the dewmous was sizing me up. 'Oh, so now you're playing with me? Just get it over with alrea—'
The surfaces pressed against me shuddered. A sharp, jarring movement that startled everything back into focus. It stopped just as quickly, leaving me in stunned silence. Then, moments later, it happened again.
The dewmous bolted, its tiny paws vanishing into the dust as quickly as they'd appeared. 'Wait! No, don't leave me! Come back! What was that?!'
No response. Just silence, and then—boom! A more violent shudder ripped through the surface, rattling me to my core before everything fell still again.
'What is going on?!' I strained, pressing my senses outward, desperate to feel anything that might give me a clue. The dewmous was long gone now—at least, I hoped it was—but whatever had caused that trembling clearly wasn't finished.
Faintly, I caught something. A small tremor, running through the slightly smoother surface of wood on one side of me. It was faint, but it came from the direction of the rhythms. Subtly it clicked, a brief acknowledgement of thought.
'I'm behind something,' I realized, trying to actually press against the surfaces. Stuck between some shelves or a dresser or something and the wall.
Stillness wrapped around me like a heavy blanket. The occasional thumps and shudders vibrated through the shelves beside me, each one a reminder that something big was moving around out there. 'Oh! Eryngo? Is that you? Have you come back for me? The thought bubbled up before I could stop it. 'Please be Eryngo. Please! Before that beast comes back!'
I held on to that hope as long as I could, but the strong emotions gripping me started to fade as time dragged on. Nothing happened. The thumps kept coming, but no one reached for me, no voices called out. Well, I suppose they could have, not like I could actually hear them if they did. I hadn't heard the dewmous at all, even as it's teeth sawed through my pages.
Every so often, I thought I caught glimpses of something—bits and wisps of light, flickering far beyond my void. But they were gone before I could focus on them, like fireflies winking out in the night.
'Could I be imagining things?' The question felt heavier than it should. A tremor rippled through the case, jarring me from my thoughts. 'Nope. Something is moving. And whatever it is, it's big.'
And then Iron's rhythm vanished.
'What?' The warmth of its presence was pulled away into the void, leaving behind a chilling emptiness. Before I could fully process it, Grey's whispers began to fade too, slipping away like lights swallowed by fog.
'Hey! Put 'em back! Leave my friends alone!' My silent plea rang out into the emptiness, but of course, nothing answered. Why would it? Nothing ever did. Not the other books. Not the dewmous.
I could only watch, helpless, as the rhythms disappeared one by one, dragged into the void, or rather, were removed form the shelf. 'Lucky them, I suppose,' I thought bitterly. 'At least they're going to be used.'
I felt at the dust coating my cover, the scratches along my edges, the mouse bite still aching like a phantom pain. 'Me? I'm stuck behind a bookcase, wedged in tight.'
The stillness pressed in, heavy and unrelenting. My thoughts wandered to Eryngo's notes, how they'd stopped years before the initiation was supposed to take place. The dewmous. The thick layer of dust that clung to everything. 'No one knows I'm here,' I realized with a sinking certainty.
'I just hope they managed to scare that mouse off for good.' It wasn't much, but it was the only comfort I had left.
The bookcase rocked, and for a moment, everything tilted. Then gravity took over. Oh no— I dropped, slamming into the floor fore edge first. The impact rattled through me, sending up a thick puff of dust that coated my already grimy covers. 'Fuuuck…'
Before I could fully process the pain of my ungraceful landing, something grabbed me. A hand. An actual hand!
I barely had time to marvel at the sensation before it dragged me out from behind the case and lifted me into the air. The grip was soft, the skin smooth, but I could feel the faint scrape of nails—sharp ones—pressing against my cover every so often.
Another hand brushed at the dust on me, its touch gentle but firm, sending little vibrations through my pages. Talking. I could feel the rumble of it through the hands. Someone was talking! I couldn't make out what they were saying, but the realization sent a jolt of excitement through me.
The hands flipped me over, dusting me off and examining every inch of me like a treasure newly unearthed. Then they passed me into another set of hands—firmer, tighter, a bit less careful. These hands waved me around as they spoke, gesturing wildly.
'Woah, woah! Hey!' I thought, internally flailing as I was swung midair. Mid-swing, the hands froze, and I was abruptly shoved back into what I think was the first pair. More rumbling conversation followed, their tones too muffled for me to grasp.
'Wait! Wait! Did you hear me? Hello!' Who ever held me now didn't so much as flinch. No reaction as I cried out, hoping to be heard. 'Give me back to the other guy!'
My cover creaked open, and I was flipped through quickly, pages riffling like they were in a rush to see all of me. I couldn't help but notice… the hands. One held me open, while a another traced my pages, following the moving text that danced across them. A realization derailed my train of thought. 'Wait a second… those are both… left hands?'
I tried to picture it in my mind. It wasn't that I was being held by two people. The touch and grip they used were too similar, and the second person had specifically been quite firm and rough with how I had been handled. The more I tried to figure it out, the weirder it got. 'There's no way two people could stand comfortably with their hands touching me like this…' Something about the angle in which I was held, and the guiding hand were placed… well, it was almost like that 'This guy has two hands on the same side of their body.'
Something clicked. 'Those aren't nails, they're claws.' At least I wasn't stuck behind the bookcase anymore.
Decision time people! Someone is reading through you! Your text is moving about on the page, like a proper magical book should (Infinite Layers). However, you do know absolutely nothing about who has ahold of you.
Majority Vote, No Approval
[ ] Try to Communicate?
[ ] Stay Quiet, See What Happens.
[ ] Write In
- This does not have to be as simple as the first two. Just don't go crazy with it. Remember. Keep it simple, Keep it common.
