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Camrad_RIP 29.04.24 в 21:38

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Camrad_RIP 29.04.24 в 21:38

The night run through the woods, and even with the weight on his shoulders, did not end in injuries. But by dawn, Stepan's reserve was more than two-thirds empty, and his overall health was at the “kill me” mark. Despite the spiritual transformation and general aura development, such a long reinforcement of himself by a spirit planted in the body could not but affect, and it did, causing fatigue not so much physical or auric, but spiritual. Realizing that there was no point in running further because he would not run far in such a state, the young man let go of the spirit, which blurred his footprints and prevented him from leaving too obvious marks on his path, and then quickly prepared a place to sleep. A protective circle, a couple of totems, another totem a little aside, and then to sleep, because his eyes were getting sleepy.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 14:19

He woke up closer to evening because water from tree leaves began to drip in his face, for some reason not rejected by the spirits surrounding the place of his sleep. For the next half an hour the boy expressively, but silently, dialogued with the guardian spirits, proving to them that the condition of protection from rain and heavenly moisture included not only the deflection of drops falling from the sky or dew appearing on the body, but also the secondary bounces of these drops when they run down after hitting the tree. The spirits snapped lazily, already realizing that the shaman would overpower them with authority, but not wanting to admit wrongness and partially unfulfilled task, so when Stepan finally woke up he became even more furious.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 14:21

A quick lunch, followed by another march, but in a much gentler mode, led him further and further away from the unfortunate town, where he was sure there was already an uproar about the fact that the blood child of the revered master of amulets had been murdered cynically and despicably while trying to capture a new victim for amulet-making practice. Of course, it hardly said so, but who the hell knows the local authorities? Rumorias Krellb could have said outright under what conditions his son had died, and everyone else would have resented Stepan's actions even more. Jokes are jokes, but it's hard to hide your interest in forbidden practices, especially if you're an artifactor, who regularly sells handicrafts made of bones, skulls, and spines of victims. Sometimes under the table, and sometimes officially, because what the hell are you going to do to them, huh?

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 14:27

Realizing that he was beginning to get angry again, Stepan habitually entered a meditative state and began to practice both calls in motion and the use of his spiritual grip. The road was not easy, but much easier than one could imagine when imagining the wild forest of classic fantasy. A couple of times he had to chase away the beasts that came to his noise and odor with fear, but Stepan quickly proved to them that he was Stepan, not a steak. Once, he was bitten by some very poisonous snake, but he got the poison out of himself without the help of a call, only by his spirit, wrapping the poison particles in his will and dragging them to the spiritual plane. Once more he nearly inhaled hallucinogenic spores in a clearing with magical mutant fly agaric mushrooms. The mushrooms slowly dissolved their victims, who fell into catatonia.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 14:31

Here the young man stayed for a while. He covered himself with a few spirits that purified the air from toxic spores, looked at a pile of animal skeletons and even one very old human skeleton, next to which he found a rusty sword, dagger and a few steel plaques from his armor that hadn't disintegrated yet. Before leaving, he buried the dead man who had been eaten by the evil fly agaric mushrooms, forcing the bones into the ground, and cut some of the younger and “strong” mushrooms, which would be used for offerings or even for personal use to enhance his calls. Lingering a bit longer, he ordered the spirits to first raise a small tornado vortex in this clearing, lifting as many of these spores into the air as possible, and then dropping all the tiny poisonous particles into a wine jug. The same one that had previously been given to him at the very beginning of the adventure.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 14:52

Smiling with a maniacal grin, Stepan sealed the neck with wax and began to call, stuffing wind spirits into the jug and putting them to sleep, feeding and resting them. When he broke the jug, all those little buggers so good at scattering dust would cover the designated area with the hallucinogen. As the boy thought, in confined spaces such a grenade could be a really deadly weapon. Spores are not lethal. They do not germinate in the lungs, just coughing out, but in such quantities they can really kill almost in a few minutes, causing severe intoxication. Under normal conditions, mushrooms give ergot spurt in response to movement and pressure: the victim begins to move, again receives a portion of the drug in the face, falls asleep, and so on in a circle until they die. And in the case of extreme concentration, there will immediately go pulmonary edema and that's it, goodbye dearie. Having dreamed a little about tossing such a jug under the pillow of a respected mage who decided to let him for meat with tenderloin, the young man went further, leaving behind him the glade that had temporarily become much safer.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:21

He met two sources of magic, but both were even smaller and more insignificant than the one he had once visited. The first was at the bottom of a tiny marshy lake fifty paces wide. The mutated crucian carp or something similar living there did not even pay attention to the man meditating on the shore. The fish itself, horribly stupid as fish should be despite its magic, had long ago devoured most animals in the puddle. Now, it's feeding on pure energy and sifting through the marsh mud and cassava. Stepan thought about killing the keeper for the sake of experience, but decided not to increase cruelty, especially one with such a tiny benefit.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:31

The second source was a huge elm tree, its crown at least three or four meters above the forest. This tree had taken the source to its roots, growing not on it, but around it. And the source was, unlike the lake one, of a darkish orientation. Though the elm remained healthy and without any slime oozing sores, it was really ominous. Stepan could feel the evil force filling its trunk and crown reaching for the light. Not just evil but resonating with his own. Root Mark, as a property of his aura, literally sang from approaching this tree, and the guy was sure that meditating here would not only give him a lot of experience, but it might well increase his characteristics a little more. Not so much that their numerical representation changed, not even close, but the hen eats the grain, doesn't she?

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:36

"Elm is a wily villain. He doesn't like people." He muttered a classic quote to himself as he moved closer, sitting with his back to the tree and beginning to merge his spirit and subtle body with the aura of the dark tree. "He waits for winds and storms to drop branches on those who trust his shadow for comfort."

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:38

The meditation, combined with the call and the summoning of a couple of scouting spirits, was indeed helpful. The tree's spiritual body was really reaching out to him, feeling an affinity, if you could call it that. And even this affinity was also dangerous because the tree tended to absorb a similar particle. However, it was not too difficult to keep on the edge, and even not particularly risky, other calls to dark entities are much more dangerous. But the result was amazing, not only replenishing his reserves, but also giving his body a good tonus, relieving fatigue and drowsiness, and leaving behind the taste of electrified iron in his mouth. It was possible to get rid of the latter by intensive spiritual cleansing, literally picking up the stuck energy residue in a spiritual grip and throwing it away. The source turned out to be, even in spite of the filter in the form of the elm tree itself, quite polluted and if Stepan hadn't had the Mark of Roots and spiritual transformation, he wouldn't have meditated here. He would have avoided harm but would not have benefited, only wasted his time.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:41

The way went on like that, until Stepan, who had made a great arc, came to the next settlement the spirits had indicated to him. It was not the first human dwelling he met on the way, but he did not even approach the others, and would not have approached this one either. But the route was very convenient, without swamps and gullies. The village near the swampy area was more like a little sprawling hamlet, with only twelve huts, not counting the barns and one old one, which almost burned down, and dismantled for firewood and other spare parts. The spirits who'd been sent to investigate had found no magic here, and the road leading to the farm was so narrow and overgrown that it was more properly called a path if not a direction. After looking around the houses and observing the life of the local population, the shaman slowly walked back into the forest, covering himself with a totem to keep the attention away from him.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:46

He had supplies for now, but he couldn't buy anything he really needed here, because the place was remote, poor, and as far away from trade routes as possible. And he didn't like it here. Even if the spirits did not even notice the magic, but smelled the stale smell of fear, blood, and danger, even if they were not able to convey these images to the shaman because of a different specialization. There was a chance that there might be a band of robbers living here, or the locals might be maniacal cannibals worshipping Cthulhu, or something like that. And it is only worth it to spend the night, as soon as “the son of Dagon himself, from the depths of the sea”, well, or crawl out of the swamp. The population - a few old men, men, women, and children, being only a couple or three families, - did not resemble the above-mentioned, but maniacs should not resemble maniacs, otherwise, they would be preventively caught or eliminated. Rather the second, local justice is very radical and does not tolerate much difficulty in the judicial process.... Well, if we're talking about ordinary people, landscapes, and townspeople, because the litigation between some two counts, Stepan had no doubt, could last for generations until the great-grandchildren of once quarreling young bastards would forget the reason of enmity. They would forget, but they would not stop! Indirectly these assumptions were confirmed by a couple of rumors from local individuals, with whom he had talked in Fantrell or simply overheard.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 15:53

Stepan would have bypassed the strange hamlet, but the approaching night forced him to look for a place to sleep. There were swamps nearby on one side and just swampy terrain on the other, so the hill on which the hamlet with its vegetable gardens and fields was situated was the only dry place for a couple of kilometers around. So the shaman hid in the thicket and began to prepare for sleep, to create protective contours for himself and call the guardian spirits. He prepared himself and called the spirits, closed the circle of totems. Then he ate a dinner of breadcrumbs and honey. Closing his eyes he instantly turned off.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 16:57

He woke up just as instantly because his spirits were anxious, sensing something dangerous, even though they did not see the cause of these sensations nearby. Stepan, who had learned to trust his immaterial servants, woke up immediately, sat up, and carefully rubbed his eyes, chasing away the flash of incomprehension and reflexive panic, quickly becoming alert due to the reflexes and tricks embedded in his memory. There was no sleep in the eyes and the general state was characterized by the release of adrenaline into the body. A really powerful release. For some reason, he felt scared, right in his sleep, although there was no nightmare and no reason for fear either. The unnatural silence also did not add calmness, because the young man who had lived long enough in the wilderness had already managed to realize that in normal situations the forest was almost never silent.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 18:10

With a crunch of his fingers, he rose to his feet, pulling out the rosary with the contracted anchors and summoning the spirit from the owl's feather into his body, thinking he should replace it with a stronger analog. The night parted and lightened, but it was still dark. Even excessively dark. A glance at the sky showed no sky, completely covered in clouds, no moon, no stars, nothing, just darkness, as if in a drow's ass. Adrenaline was still arriving in his body, only now the shaman had gotten his body under control and quickly came to his senses. Looking around and getting his bearings, he moved in the direction where the unpleasant wave of strange and incomprehensible fear was coming from, the kind of instinctive fear that any living individual feels when confronted with something that has been denied life, but has found no rest after death. Of course, he didn't move personally, he wasn't an idiot to leave the protective line fortified with totems and go into the jaws of some creature - he sent the spirit away, watching it with his eyes, looking at it with all his might.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 18:19

The contract that had once been traded for the eyes of a huge guardian beast was working as it should for the first time, and for the first time it gave a very clear picture, like a view from above of the whole area, but without much use. The village was almost completely dark. Not a single light in the windows, except for a single speck of light that flickered not in the window, but outside the houses. And this light was not just the light of a candle or a torch but something quite otherworldly, ominous even when viewed through the prism of contracted vision from above. The spirit felt the same way, expressing images of apprehension and desire to be away from here. Stepan somehow thought that the villagers he had seen that evening behaved a little stiffly and went home in a hurry as soon as the sun began to set, sometimes even dropping their unfinished business, glancing nervously at the clouds that covered the sky.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 18:26

Calling one spirit after another, having already gathered a normal combat pack of contracts, and mostly those to whom one or two attacks were paid in advance, the young man began to guide his servants to the village. Stranger, but his own, experience suggested the right maneuvers, and routes for the spirits, allowing them to group and complement each other, overlapping weaknesses and concentrating strengths. Carefully and leisurely swarmed in the air above the village ready to manifest into reality spirits, trying every second to follow the wandering between the huts of the fire, in which less and less managed to recognize the fire. No, it was not a flame, even if it could be mistaken from afar for a candle, but rather a chemical flame or the glow of some rotten thing.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 18:47

The spirits were worried. They sensed the danger and therefore not so much grumbling as striving to send someone else forward, not themselves, but their neighbor-spirit, let him scout. But it was such trifles, that the Earthman did not even pay attention to such things, controlling the summoned as if they were dogs in a sled or units in the RTS, and it is not even possible to say which option is truer. Here is one of the summoned, a creature in its essence bearing the shade of light of the moon: quite rare and valuable contract, in fact, quite capable of helping in many different rituals and, without the absorbed knowledge of developed call practice, he would not call such an entity, not knowing the necessary appeals and the method of offering, while randomly call can be very long. Stepan uses the lunar like a microscope used for hammering nails, as it might seem at first or even second glance, simply by raising it higher and making it give off a soft and pleasant stream of moonlight, just illuminating a piece of territory in the center of the hamlet.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 20:36

The light froze, being enclosed in an old and broken lantern lamp. It looked, by the way, very expensive, and it was the kind of lamp that didn't belong in this remote village: glass walls of fine workmanship, a lot of small details, and time-darkened patterns adorning the copper body, giving off tarnished gold. The problem, however, was not with the lamp or the flame flickering inside it, a rotting green shade with a faint reddish tint. The problem was that the lamp was held in the outstretched hand of an old, shriveled, and twisted humanoid. A long-dead and mummified humanoid, which even now could hardly be recognized as a human being. And he, right at the moment of getting under the light of the moon now hidden behind the dense clouds, jerked sharply, bent like a salt cosmonaut from the backstreets, staring with his eye sockets directly at the source of light. And there was something ominous in his posture, as well as in the walking dead man, but it didn't make him laugh or remember that zombies were considered an ideal source of EXP and loot in the issekai classics.

Camrad_RIP 02.05.24 в 11:18

The dead man had eyes, no empty eye sockets, as a connoisseur of horror stories might expect, but those eyes had long since dried up, shrunk as if they were raisins in the sun so that it would have been better if he had no eyes. It looked so ugly. The dead man waved his lamp, and afterward the lunar was tangibly pulled into the lamp, trying to suck him into it, and the spirit did not like it very much, rather, it even panicked and began to send panicked images in the style of “Help!!!”. Stepan consciously invested his own power, forcing the spirit not only to continue to fulfill its role and shine but also to further strengthen its state and position in reality, preventing it from succumbing to the call of the lamp. The dead man clearly did not like this resistance, which was clear from the sharply increased sense of unnatural fear, but outwardly his anger was not reflected, and the creature did not make any sounds.

Camrad_RIP 02.05.24 в 11:24

The dead man, clearly not a classic zombie, but something more complicated, dangerous, and, perhaps, more intelligent, tried to raise the light bulb higher, increasing the pressure. Stepan was not going to wait silently for events to unfold. A short order and one of the spirits rushed down to the ground and on the ground he appeared in reality as a translucent silhouette. In a way, he and the dead man were almost colleagues - this spirit had the form and shape of an ancient warrior dressed in rags, who had fallen in an equally ancient battle. It's certainly not a ghost, though the practice of shamanism and necromancy overlap in many places, especially in the matter of ghosts. It is a spirit that once long ago absorbed the images and imprints of the battle that took place under him, becoming not so much the ghost of a warrior who was killed (or maybe even quietly survived the battle), as the concept of his embodiment, the memory of the feat of this and many other warriors that fell or survived in that battle. The battle that took place at night, the death that came to the enemies at the stroke of midnight, the arrows that knew no miss in the light of the moon looking down indifferently.

Camrad_RIP 02.05.24 в 11:27

This spirit could strike only on a full moon, only in the moonlight, best of all at midnight sharp, but a simple night or even early morning suited the conditions. Of course, on this night there was no full moon, and the moon was hidden behind a veil of very dense and not a ray of clouds. On such a night, the invisible arrows of the spirit, repeating, like a phantom mockingbird, someone forgotten by mortals, but not spirits, and smashing into the bullseye shots, remained intangible and harmless. Even an unprotected man would get a chill down his spine and fear without reason if such an arrow struck his heart. But it was not in vain that Stepan summoned a very rare, albeit weak spirit as a simple illumination, it was not in vain that he studied his system knowledge, looking for ways to successfully combine calls, especially if this very method was almost emphasized by the red line in that knowledge? No, not for nothing, as both the dead man with the lantern and the phantom warrior, who was really just a curious spirit taking on the role of someone else, proved.

Camrad_RIP 03.05.24 в 08:46

The arrows sank into the dead man's flesh as real and damaging projectiles, even if they were translucent and only partially material. Rather, it was the magical nature of the projectiles that did more damage than the physical damage itself. The dead man didn't make a sound, only a sudden increase in terror, only to shudder as if shaken by the candlelight along with the flickering flame, and then begin to weaken jerkily. The newly raised lantern seemed to brighten the silhouette of the shooter with its glow, grave and irregular, which clearly would not be good for the spirit if he had waited for the return blow. Alas, but the spirit, which had spent the entire charge of the shaman's reserve, which Stepan had paid for only three shots, three accurate and impossible-to-miss arrows, immediately slipped away to the depths of the native plane and was gone.

Camrad_RIP 03.05.24 в 09:29

The dead man did not hesitate, covering himself with the same halo of abnormal grave light. It wasn't a bad barrier, Stepan thought, making full use of the combat experience he'd invested in with his last knowledge, assessing what he'd seen at the level of a strong apprentice, no less. A couple of lightning bolts from the thunder spirits that struck from the back - this time prudently striking from a distance rather than huddling close to the barrier - shook the barrier, but did not penetrate it. What did break it was another blow, but a physical one, a powerful current of air, a knocking wind that sent leaves, dust, and lumps of earth into the air and shook the shutters of the nearest hut. The strike, in fact much less dangerous to health than each of the previous lightning bolts, blew away the halo surrounding the dead.

Camrad_RIP 03.05.24 в 09:48

The otherworldly light flew away with the rushing wind, as pieces of phosphorescent foil covered with reflective paint, and the dead man staggered awkwardly, trying to keep his balance and keep the lantern from being ripped from his hands. He could have succeeded, could have rethought his strategy and done something more dangerous, but the second of the air blasts, which were very effective, knocked the creature to the ground, followed by a concentrated air blade that cut the dead man's arm off at the shoulder, though it was only just strong enough. The hand that clutched the lantern, which was clearly unusual, and then another gust of air was embodied, which carried the not particularly heavy dead man to one side, and his hand and the lantern to the other. The lantern, from which all the evil energy was coming, from which flowed into the dead flesh the power to conjure, which was the one who wove this power into primitive, but very effective charms of unclear tone and unpleasant nature. The remnants of the dead man's aura, which in itself should not have been able even to exist in an active state until morning, were quite noticeable.

Camrad_RIP 03.05.24 в 09:51

The dead man twitched like a worm on a hook as if he'd had an epileptic seizure, but the three ghostly arrows still lodged in him only did more damage to the flesh and the remnants of the undead's thin bodies. And these thin bodies were not even a full aura substitute like zombies or other types of dead, making this body literally a glove, a puppet that had to be controlled manually. After a minute or so it was over, the atmosphere of horror and the alien presence of something evil was gone, and even the flashlight stopped trying to draw the passing spirits into its faded and almost non-glowing gut, fading and becoming an almost ordinary, albeit slightly glowing household item.

Camrad_RIP 03.05.24 в 09:52

Stepan, who had been frozen in meditation almost a kilometer from the village controlling his best servants from a distance, grumbled annoyingly at the sight of the lantern. He was only looking through the spiritual eyes of the contract. It was definitely an artifact, and an extremely evil and damaged one at that, now holding at most a tenth of its power. Leaving it here, in this village, where the locals would find it in the morning, would be like guaranteeing the appearance of a new one. carrier for this thing if there's a moron out there who decides to pocket it. Well, or the artifact itself will play the role of a beckon, forcing someone to pick itself up and affecting the mind - fear this thing sent very competently, fear and paralyzing will powerlessness. So, there is a possibility of the reverse effect but it's not much more complicated than already demonstrated. No, some rings are better thrown straight into Orodruin, as the connoisseurs would say. Sighing, realizing that he would have to waste the reserve again and that no one would even thank him for it, the young man began to call for the second time during the night.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 14:32

The remaining spirits of the winds wove into a small cluster of spirits, twirling in a circle around each other, creating a joint effect and happily absorbing the power the shaman was giving them. Personally, they would not approach this lantern except under the direct command of the shaman, but there was no need for such extreme sacrifices here. A veritable battering ram of air like a giant's foot striking the ground, burst from the spirits downward, straight at the faintly and tantalizingly flickering light. Even if the material of this creation of an unknown genius was shock-resistant, this resistance did not notice Stepan's last argument. The argument didn't notice the resistance either.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:40

The grave light flashed, driving the spirits away, flashed brightly, even brighter than it had been when the dead man was casting his spell when he was full of strength. The wreckage of the lantern dug into the ground, crushed as if by a huge foot. Stepan, who was breathing heavily from the intense pumping of power into his contracts and was still looking at the world through the eyes of the spirit-observer (who was beginning to grumble, because it had been almost eight minutes since his services had been used, and he didn't want to be summoned, he wanted to be summoned quickly and for a couple of seconds, or better not to be summoned at all, since he had already been paid), found out with sincere amusement that at the place of destruction of the ominous lantern there was indeed a very deep mark, as if from a big barefoot, at least a meter long. A clearly visible giant heel had crushed the lantern - it was epic, in the style of real isekai books.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:42

The boy was genuinely interested in what exactly the landscapes that had heard the sounds of this epic battle and had long since woken up would think tomorrow, and to whom they would pray for their miraculous deliverance from their long-standing misfortune. Yes, exactly long ago, because the dead man was obviously a local acquaintance and regularly wandered here, from which everyone hid at sunset, albeit with fear, but only habitually, routinely. But at the same time, he was either dumb, or because of the broken lantern he was non-functional, and he could not enter the locked houses and barns with cattle, otherwise, there would have been no village left here long ago, only a burial ground and the undead that had gotten hungry on living and breathing vessels. In the end, Stepan saves everyone, and no one will thank him, because he will not show himself to people, just leaving in the morning, going around the village in a wide arc. Actually, he didn't need any reward, it was enough to realize he had managed to help the people around him without unnecessary risk and save them from a terrible scourge, and also freed the dead man from the evil artifact that was tormenting him. And all it took was a couple of summons and contracts, and three-quarters of the reserve - a trifle, really.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:47

However, the young man was not completely unrewarded, because the experience, gradually gained, increased by the night fight with five assholes, working with the elm tree and its source, as well as a general practice, which he continued even on the road, after this battle with a really serious enemy (only the guardian beast was more dangerous than him, and that only because the earthling was weaker at that time), which was very successfully dealt with remotely, has crossed a new boundary, bringing the level to the twelfth. A dozen levels behind him was a reason to be proud. And the usual whispering and touching from the gift certificate of the Autogoddes had become a habit, and he couldn't get rid of it.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:49

Received: “Advanced developed techniques for casting shamanic love spells”.

Camrad_RIP 02.05.24 в 11:20

The acquired talent is added to the overall Player status.

Camrad_RIP 02.05.24 в 11:19

Stepan, who had just won his first magical duel, albeit with a weaker and stupid to the point of idiocy opponent, felt sad. This is the level of knowledge, which even by the standards of the system is considered to be the level of a master of magic or a senior shaman. This is the highest level of knowledge of all he has now, the limit for his current characteristics. And somehow he just wants to cry at the realization that his most developed skill, a whole block of them, was and still is the fucking professional love charms. With the current level, he is already reaching really high capabilities. He gets access to more contracts, which, of course, are not at the level of the same spirits from the “minor” gifts, but still stronger than most of his battle retinue, sometimes taken together.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:52

Yes, the synergy worked. The possibilities of working with dreams have increased very much, the abilities to heal have grown, and new mechanics of working with the plasticity of one's spirit have opened up, which can be applied not only for the spell, the same curses will surely jump too, even some tricks of working with sources also depend on the new knowledge. For example, a whole group of contracts or just spiritual influences, which allow you to put a spell (or other influence) on the bound to a place of power or just with a piece of space gifted. Pretty cool, huh? Now Stepan can break the pattern and cast a дщму spell on a witch merged with his own land-territory, not the other way around! He laughs, but he still feels some underlying pain below his back.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:54

Not wanting to endure this pain any longer than usual, the guy started to choose his upgrade with the usual leveling. He would have reinvested in the spiritual operation, but, alas, there was also a limit on the characteristics. He also looked at the properties, including those that could increase the missing characteristic, but he didn't choose anything. Yes, at this point, some talents brought much less debuffs along with the buffs, but there were no perfect ones. Although, for example, there was the “power of the body in the reflection of the gift”, which simply and uncomplicatedly increased Constitution by one point, almost without any other effects, except for the frank little things, like slightly improved health due to the synergy with the blessing of the health. However, there were no negatives either, but you could only take this property as long as your bodily strength was at one, above two it just wouldn't work.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 17:59

He had to choose the spiritual dialog upgrade, which was long overdue because it simplified the training and interaction with even very strong entities, reduced risks, and alleviated the consequences of those risks. So far, he had enough current knowledge rank, so he could, in principle, raise at least the combat calls, which he had planned to raise initially, but here Stepan's pride got the better of him. He was already very good at combat calls, but to let spells be the highest rank of all his knowledge... No, if not his ego, then at least his pants should be pitied - his ass is burning so much that soon it will smoke and a hole will form, he needs to cool it down. As a result, having raised the necessary talent to “advanced developed practices of spiritual dialog”, Stepan began to wait out the arrival of knowledge directly into his skull.

Camrad_RIP 04.05.24 в 06:18

This time the stupor was especially strong. Even a little stronger than when he had received the block of knowledge about charms, which did not sadden, but even pleased the earthling. Apparently, it was the fact that not only the prefix “advanced” was added to the absorbed knowledge in the system status, but also the mention of “basics” disappeared, replaced by “practices”, which made the leap much more noticeable than Stepan had expected. He was lying and mastering new skills and sensations until the morning, at the same time slowly replenishing his reserve. The night battle brought a positive experience, so that the mood, which had become shitty after the gift from Queen Milf, began to rise again. A new leap in controlling his retinue had also come to fruition, as had a sharply increased awareness of the images that spirits had instead of trying to communicate.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 12:20

Now one could expect to raise the call practice with the next promotion. Since he could now understand more powerful spirits and, if necessary, push them, it would be worth expanding the set of known contracts, methods of invocation, and cunning tricks. On the other hand, he could do as he had originally intended and raise a battle calling so he could deal with all sorts of crap more efficiently and with less loss of reserves. He didn't want to fight, but practice showed him that he could find adventure in this world, even in the deepest shithole. Whether it's the world that's so fucked up, or whether it's Stepan that's so Stepan. However, his attempts to quietly and peacefully pump himself up constantly bumped into loneliness and the marbles rolling off, and social contacts of any kind showed a disturbing tendency to turn into stabbings, into dark schemes of insidious necromancers, or simply into absolute disgust.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 12:26

However, he activated the contract again, looking at the villagers crowded around the finally dead body and the crushed lantern. Looking at how the women were crying and laughing, how the men were laughing, how the corpse was quickly pulled off with hooks and thrown into a hole dug outside the village, and the lantern fragments were carefully picked up with two sticks, how a festive table was set up in the middle of the village, and old grandmother almost prays on the print after a spiritual kick while half of the village is ready to echo her. He looks at the spontaneous celebration of people who will no longer be afraid to linger after sunset and die. At this point, Stepan was slowly realizing that some adventures might be worth it. Therefore, he would stay as far away from such adventures as possible, and in the most extreme case, he would simply hand over the rescue of any victims to the local authorities. They have to earn their bread with red caviar, right?

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 13:11

The young man continued on his way after lunch, having previously practiced his new skills, felt the increased capabilities, and also with irritation dropped the rejection of another task on behalf of Her. No, even for a free skill, he is not going to walk around in women's clothes for two days, having achieved that he was not recognized as a man and at least a third of the entire duration of the assignment spent in public. This is not only because he has no women's clothing, but also because it will be astonishingly uncomfortable moving through the forest. The clothes, including exquisite stockings, an aristocratic dress, a gorgeous corset, and lacy lingerie will be presented to him automatically, just take the task, and they will not take it back, even though the fabrics will be extremely expensive and the little enchanted for ease of wear and removal of stains with odors. He wanted to raise his eyes to the sky and ask: “Why?”, but Stepan was sincerely afraid the heavens would answer him.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 13:15

So he went far away, shoving his thoughts deeper, or the addressees would hear them. He walked at a leisurely pace away from the swamp where the dead man had come from, occasionally glancing at his status to improve his mood. As the saying goes, no Goddess of All MILFs can make you jerk off to her lovely image if a real nerd gamer can jerk off to numbers. It's a shame he never became one of them - not enough time to play games, and not enough courage and dementia - because it would probably be a lot easier to bear such abuse.

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 13:26

Name: Stepan

Level: 12

Class: Shaman

Characteristics: (free: 0)

Talents (free): 0

Constitution: 1

Sensitivity: 7

Power: 5

Control: 2

Source: 4

Spirit: 8

Resistance: 1

Camrad_RIP 30.04.24 в 16:07

Knowledge acquired: speaking and writing: Free Cities, academic Neirat, Island Kingdom; advanced basic shamanic practice; advanced fundamentals of spiritual dialog; wilderness hermit; basics of working with healing spirits; advanced basics of casting shamanic charms (GIFT); basic techniques of dream-inducing and dream correction (GIFT); advanced basic practice of combat calls; basic techniques of interaction with magical sources; basic techniques of countering curses: basic fundamentals of fast call; advanced basic practice of spiritual operation; the knack of a martial call

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 13:35

Minor knowledge: contract with an elder spirit: Sleepwalker (GIFT); contract with the elder spirits: The Shroud of Touch and the Creator of Decisions (GIFT)

Camrad_RIP 30.04.24 в 16:09

Obtained properties: blessings of health and long life; toughness of spirit; resilience of subtle bodies; small mark of spiritual spheres (GIFT): spiritual shroud of higher auric concealment (GIFT); flexible transformation of the spiritual body; marking of fallen leaves and black roots

Camrad_RIP 01.05.24 в 13:36

System modifiers: peaceful development I; issuance of system assignments II (GIFT)

Camrad_RIP 30.04.24 в 16:08

Special: Blessing of Liarat si Merrinal, Lady of Gifts and Giver of Gifts, loyal servant of Innelas Innelay: likely to grant additional talents as you level up; grant specific system quests with increased rewards; hidden effects

Camrad_RIP 30.04.24 в 16:08