Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Глава 12-2

Stepan didn't know why he was giving the boy a lecture in the style of a young student of the witcher shop, not real, but from Sapkowski's works, but if he listened with such interest, why not? In this case, the boy did not have youthful maximalism with courage, the desire to go right now and show his prowess to put back in graves troubled cemetery. He was just interested to know and listen. And the teacher himself did not skimp on the details of how such creatures can kill a presumptuous idiot hunter who is nowhere near Geralt of Rivia, but merely Meld of the Upper Lyady. Most of such tricks turned out to test very specific and useful against one or a few types of undead, useful in strictly limited conditions, and even then did not give a full guarantee. And if there was no desire to be cunning or if one had one's own strength, one could always defeat them simply by superiority in firepower - a few spirits of the flame sphere, a boost of strength, adding the influence of the wind sphere so there was something to burn, and there was no need for a garlic-sauce-dipped aspen stake in the ass of a gothic vampire, he would burn anyway.

Camrad_RIP 06.06.24 в 16:18

Though the latter was no longer a fact. Stepan's knowledge said that bloodsuckers in the real-fantasy version, which were the top of the branch of intelligent undead along with lichs and a number of other, more exotic beings, were rarely weak and always possessed some degree of magic. So it's best to fight them using the “just you, me, and the twelve combat mages behind my back” method, rather than having a fair fight in the style of Vanya from the glorious city of Helsinki. However, the Earthman told Meld about vampires or other higher undead only in the style of identification methods, and the advice on active counteraction in case of gastronomic interest to his own person was the same for all cases of life: run, bitch, run. Preferably to water or a consecrated temple, and it is very desirable to run faster than the other runners.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 12:18

The next assignment was a small one. It required working with moon-type spirits and doing a simple ritual to accumulate moonlight, which he had done before, even before coming to this village. He was able to perform the job again literally in passing, without even going to the clearing, a couple hours and the backyard was enough. No songs, dances, or ritual signs, only the elements of his necklace laid out around the young man sitting on the ground and a small totem to the side, and two hours of silent and intense spiritual exercise, which resulted in an increase in the effectiveness of working with the spirits of moonlight, as well as a small, fist-sized, slightly illuminating pebble. No, it did not glow from radiation, but it was just its natural and magical property: sityr-amol, which in translation from an ancient language means “moonlight stone”, absorbed this light and then gradually gave it back. It was not a bad ritual object, though Stepan didn't need it right now. It wasn't even a consumable, it could be used a lot and often. However, it was also quite effective in the opinion of any shaman who didn't have access to the store from the System it waste of resources.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 13:38

In the meantime, two more ships came to the village, but Stepan did not see them at all. Each time they arrived in the afternoon, when he was busy with shamanic affairs, and stayed just long enough to buy supplies in one case, and in the second to rake up all the free and not so free ropes that the village had. If to believe the swearing of the merchant, the destructive element thrown out by a kick in the ass without payment for drunkenness had managed to spoil some of the rigging before being kicked out, and it turned out to be a big mess. Well, the river is not the sea. Here the situation was much simpler and the damage to the rigging, as well as the spoilage of the remaining stocks, did not lead to the loss of the boat, but still the peddler was wildly furious and promised to find the drunkard and skin him alive. He was even more furious when Kirik wouldn't let him buy the ropes for nothing, because the experienced swimmer knew perfectly well not only the price of them, but also how lousy it was to sail without rigging, maneuvering with oars and experience of the helmsman.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 13:40

"He, the honorable Pann, what ever ge want, but the very fact that the crew didn't notice their rigging being cut, and other trifles.... It seems to me that it wasn't for drunkenness that the villain was thrown out. It was just an excuse. To throw hsomeone out in the middle of a voyage without pay, no, that's not the way to do it." Headman explained his actions not very satisfied with everything that had happened. "According to the River Law, to leave a drunken man on the shore with his things, not even in a town, but at a fishing outpost, it is necessary to doze off at least at the post before the attack of the river's dashing scum. And for such a thing they won't throw you out of the boat. You can swim straight after the corpses overboard right into the cold water, if you can. No, Pann, it seems to me that it's not all clean. The ropes of the peddler were cut by some of those who stayed on the ship, from the shipmates of the abandoned, namely the sailors, not the peddler's guards. The others didn't notice, and those who did close their eyes. And they cut them expertly, I say, to get the boat moving, but without risk. It's nothing to the men, they're used to steering with oars, but the goods, especially perishable goods, and with such a delay...."

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 13:48

Stepan only nodded to himself, but he made another note to remember that no matter how Kirik tried to pretend to be a simple man, he had a great deal of intelligence in his head, and behind his slightly thinned hair hid an analytical mind and keen attention to detail. More and more questions arose involuntarily about how many such little things, from which a whole picture is formed, he had noticed in relation to the shaman named Pann, who had come to his village? How many he noticed, what he put together and what conclusions he came to, for obvious reasons not discussing the conspiracy blunders with the conspiracy man himself in the person of a fellow isekai? Of course, he sent dream spirits to the headman, but even with the increased skill he could only say that Kirik did not intend any evil, did not talk much about the magician, did not prepare a setup and did not call familiar slavers by owl mail. Such thoughts gave him a headache, so he resolutely returned to his work, finishing preparations for the first dive separately from his meat shell.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 13:54

This last detail was a new belt, bracelets, and necklace, specially made so that their image could be taken with him into the spirit world. He had created small and not-so-small amulets of this nature many times before, so that their material beginnings would no longer mean anything, but the reflection would continue to work. The trick is simple and, in general, basic, the essence of the same houses of spirits, but without the spirits. Something similar to the way the same spirit of greed in the gold coin changed the nature of its anchor, only now there was no spirit left in the anchor, only the changed essence of the material. What he had planned was no longer closer to amulet-building and totems, but to witch artifacting. There was enough knowledge to fulfill his plan now. All he had to do was to work a little bit more and purchase in the System store, having spent almost all the stock and once again refusing the special offer. He skip the special offer even with pleasure.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 18:30

The small and exquisite-looking pendant was, first of all, a woman's pendant, and secondly, it could only be worn by a woman, but it had its own properties. First of all, of course, it was a protection artifact of a very high level, as if it was made by a master artifactor, and at a level closer to the top of the rank than to its beginning. Poison detection, curse neutralization, thought protection, and a pretty sure physical and magical barrier field for emergencies. But, as with the stockings still lying under his bed in the case, that was only the tip of the iceberg, the deliberately revealed essence behind which lurked the second. The pendant, which looked like the sprouts of flowering grapes braiding a milky-white stone that looked like a pearl but was not, might well have begun to glow with a light that was barely visible even in the darkness, and that was where the fun began.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 18:54

The glow causes a gradual increase of trust, disposition, submission and passion towards the female owner of the pendant - exactly the female, at activation it is necessary to focus on separate nodes of subtle bodies, which male do not have - and also reduces suspicion and forbids even to begin to suspect the owner of the jewelry in anything bad. This in itself is not bad, but much more dangerous is the fact that this glow is fixed on a single target, without being detected by most of the scanners, acting not outwardly, but in itself. There is a gradual adjustment to the aura and defense of the target, always only one, and extremely imperceptible and very insidious - if you give enough time, then even the top defense of the mind will gradually become ineffective and only then the effect on the mind in general begins. In fact, you can come to a dinner party with this pendant, and then for a few hours of cheerful conversations unnoticeably open the defense of the host or hostess of the ball, suggest a walk in the garden, and already there to finish a full-fledged brainwashing, without raising alarms at all. And even the victim's guards following in the distance would not notice anything. It would be enough just a conversation, a dialog and nothing more. Stepan was quite well versed in magic, the effect of the level and simply obscenely huge arrays of encyclopedias filled in the head, and therefore clearly understood: even if the scale and damage of this pendant with a plate calling dragon-bearing spirits is not comparable, but the complexity and skill of execution of the imposed charms there are two or three times higher, at least. And it costs even cheaper, which is much more hilarious, causing rage at the injustice of the universe.

Camrad_RIP 12.06.24 в 18:58

Stepan even wondered why his namesake would need this pendant, so fortunately offered by the Autogoddess, who had found a Chosen One to match her. There is a clear impossibility to use this artifact in the right way and to the full hundred percent, if you don't have tits and there is something dangling between your legs! What, to distort the auric nodes, hanging over the disguise, or what? It won't help, the pendant has full synchronization with the user's aura on dozens of levels, it's in the fucking help! It would be easier to change his gender than to build such a strong disguise and risk injuring himself, but somehow the guy doubts that even Stepan would go for such a trick.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:02

Although, he wouldn't have a shaman class, but a special one, just like Stepan himself, so he could make a bunch of obedient puppets and arm them with goods from special offers. Even Stepan Normal had learned how to make puppets, thanks to the regular gifts of Great Milf, so his namesake would have thought of it. However it was, but the young man, who was in close contact with the fat nerd, knew perfectly well that his brains were of high quality. He just refused to show it in every possible way. He even involuntarily thought about what would have happened if it had been not him, but the one who was supposed to be here in the beginning - the locals would have shuddered for sure, especially the elven princesses, queens, lords and other Galadriels from the Valar Houses. Rings of power instead of intimate piercings would have seemed like innocent games to them, if Fatty had gotten his way.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:05

Stepan fell asleep with this thought reluctantly, even a little anxiously, though there was nothing to be anxious about. All night long he was troubled by vague and viscous dreams, in which there was no exact plot, but each fragment seemed to be a part of a story he had not seen at all. Especially remembered was a small and cozy tavern, in which gathered a very unusual company, all human, but somehow not so much. Stepan recognized himself, hugging a portable totem pole, as thick as a log and as long as it, but he also saw others with whom he felt an incomprehensible kinship. Some pale man in his thirties with black-painted lips and eyes with no less black contact lenses, who had managed to enter the anonymous imageboard through a mirror-polished tray. A little to the side sat chatting with two of his yearlings with autistic faces, staring at nothing in front of them and not moving their pupils. Only one of them was dressed in a classic fantasy mage's robe, and next to him was a cool staff made of magic-infused psionite, and it was normal, not like Stepan's, and the other one was dressed in an earthly way, in jeans and a sweatshirt, with worn-out sneakers on his feet and a pink children's backpack near his feet, but somehow he seemed even more dangerous than a mage armed to the teeth and armored to the brim.
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Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:11

The third person in their company, who seemed to be the ringleader, was a tall, athletic, and very beautiful woman of Asian appearance, about twenty-five years of age, carrying a pair of very nicely enchanted daggers at her belt, and a very ordinary earthly revolver. The composition was rounded out by a strange and dreadful man in his forties, dressed as a Goth with black lips, no less, who came from the kitchen of this unknown tavern. Also dressed in a classic three-piece suit according to Earth fashion, he seemed both very sturdy and wiry, and somehow unpleasantly aged, as if fading, which was only supplemented by the unnaturally black color of his eyes, but this blackness was somehow viscous, alive and moving. And the net of inky-black veins, now and then appearing under the skin of his face, continuously moving like worms, added to the ominousness. In his hands he held a huge cauldron of fresh and steaming pilaf, so heavy that when it was placed on the table it even sagged a little, though it was firmly made of thick planks. The whole company welcomed the appearance of the pilaf with joy and immediately began to pour it into bowls for themselves, paying no attention to the appearance of the strange cook or to each other.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:14

This picture reeked of something simultaneously unknowable and murky, but also homely and cozy, somehow close to home. For some reason it seemed to Stepan, watching the whole scene, that they were all somehow connected with each other, as if by an invisible and unbreakable chain, but he could not realize this thought, nor could he understand or see the chain - he woke up. He woke up fresh, awake and full of some vague premonitions, ready for new incredible accomplishments.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:15

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Camrad_RIP 11.06.24 в 18:55

Perhaps that's how Shakespeare felt when he closed the last sentence of his Macbeth with a dot, as Stepan felt now, looking at the items lying in front of him. They could be described in one short phrase, even a combination of words: "The power of cash." Creating two bracelets, a necklace and a belt, Stepan spent all the accumulated stocks of purchasing power, shoveled the reserves to the bottom and it is still very convenient to him came in the asset two small assigments. Material goods in the form of a fully working amulet from the curses and no less working billet for the totem of the animal sphere also turned out to be not superfluous, but put aside. All attention, all will and effort went to his new toys, the last element, the lack of which and separated the young man from the execution of the plan. Outwardly, his new toys looked plain and almost identical - a leather cord with a lot of knots, and between these knots small clay and bone rectangular tablets, each with a cubist abstract picture on one side and a bloody thumbprint belonging to Stepan on the other.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 18:27

In fact, they were not spirit houses, but spiritually processed material, so densely processed that its spiritual reflection was no longer holding on to the matter so tightly that Stepan could grab the necklaces with a ghostly grip right now and pull the reflection toward him, leaving the useless matter lying where it was. He could, but it was too early to do it, and it would take a long time to pull the reflection and the matter back together, so he didn't want to try it just for fun. He had already checked the efficiency of the new tool anyway. He recognized it as satisfactory and would check it more than once before actually stepping out of the body.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 18:53

In the center of the clearing, right next to the main bulk of totems, there was a bed made of small flat stones, each the size and thickness of an Apple tablet, and on top of this bed, there were many sharp and jagged patterns, incomprehensible, but slightly illuminating. Not only strengthening the call but also protecting the ownerless body from unpleasant situations, as well as simply protection, built into the defense array of the whole glade. This is the bed he'll be lying on when the real extreme begins, but until then he needs to test a lot and make at least one test exit in the safest possible conditions. Just to get used to the new sensations and to realize what he is even capable of with his modification and transformation of the spirit when only this spirit will be left of him.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 18:55

It didn't happen on the same day. No, he'd taken a break again. He sat with a cup of honey brew at another village festival celebrating the arrival of winter, got a little nervous, checked his new gear one more time, and only then did he lie down. The stone chilled the body but warmed the aura, literally stimulating it to push the already willing spirit out of the body. For anyone who wasn't a shaman, or even a badass shaman, lying on such a bed was fraught with trauma to the subtle bodies and subsequent unpleasant death, not to mention the way Stepan had adjusted the bed solely for himself. He felt himself quite comfortably, only a slight tickle in his aura prevented him from relaxing, which was not surprising - it was contraindicated for him to relax now. Maybe some of the shamans risk leaving the body when they fall asleep, immersing themselves in meditation and maximum peace. In some ways, the move is correct, because so the risk is less and the exit is smoother, but as a result, the spirit out of the body may well not realize that all this is not a dream and do not remember why it was all in the first place.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 18:59

For an ordinary shaman's apprentice supported by a more experienced mentor, it is even logical in its own way. The mentor will let him get used to it and gently stimulate the thinking transferred to the aural carrier, bringing the missing brains back to their place. So to speak it will wake you up without waking you up. The Earthman had no mentor, only himself, but he had a strong subtle body and a habit of controlling his own spirit, so he expected to go for the tougher option and not fail. The tickle turned into a tingling sensation and a strong, yet steady, wind at his back as if he were standing in front of a fan. He felt as if he were being literally lifted up on the currents of this breeze, embracing everything and making it float above the ground.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 19:02

After about five heartbeats, it became clear that it was not his imagination. Attempting to perceive the surrounding reality caused him to perceive it even excessively. Ordinary sight didn't work at all, nor did hearing, smell, touch, or sense of balance, but their spiritual and magical counterpart was replacing all of those things with more. He saw more, realized and understood in a way he could not before, and saw the obvious solution in places where before there was only an insurmountable wall. The world had changed, though there was still something recognizable in it, but only if you deliberately did not look where the recognizable ended.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 19:04

The clearing was the same, only incredibly sharp as if every blade of grass and leaf had been rendered by a top-level Photoshop master. The clearing was permeated with countless threads and knots, woven into a multilayered and extremely complex openwork structure. As if it were a dome, a net, and bearing walls at the same time. These elements were also seen as peculiar currents, as if pipes, along which some or other entities were drifting, slowly and conscientiously performing the task assigned to them. At the base of the clearing, not so much physical as metaphorical and just as “meta” physical, were totem poles, numerous auxiliary ones, a smaller number of main ones, and a single central one, but they did not look like the usual image. The idea of calling them spirit dormitories had never been truer-they seemed at once unchanged, remaining the same size, but growing to the scale of a high-rise, threaded with windows, passages, corridors, rooms, and separate segments.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 19:08

There were not enough colors in the vocabulary to describe those that opened to the shaman's gaze, the long-studied spirits were seen from a completely new side, and these visions were not always pleasant, but inevitably captivating. The measured pulsation of the entire protective structure was mesmerizing in its completeness, but also disappointing in its incompleteness, for only after being in such a profoundly abnormal state did Stepan begin to notice the flaws in his creation even more acutely than he had noticed before. He did not immediately notice his bed, from which at that moment there seemed to be streams of power, feeding the spiritual body and preventing it from losing touch with Reality; he did not immediately realize it was right under him, under that point of coordinates absent in the spiritual world, where Stepan himself was hanging, oscillating together with the streams of Ether. And when he noticed it, he did not realize at first that he was seeing his own body, which now seemed dull, faded, and as if poorly distinguishable against the background of the extravaganza of colors and paints.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:07

No wonder, for his spirit, was not in this shell now, having left only the flesh and those fragments of aura which had not left the flesh together with the spirit. So, he looks dimly to himself, as he looks at the carefully removed and lovingly ironed suit. He wandered around the clearing a little more, evaluated his work, looked at the subordinate spirits guarding him from all sides, and even communicated with them all. He was amazed at how effectively their images could be understood. And no less significant was the realization that in such a state the marks on his spirit had a noticeably stronger effect on his surroundings - the same Blessing of the Spheres or the Mark of the Roots had increased in effectiveness, according to his personal feelings, though not twice, but by seventy percent exactly. He wanted, sincerely wanted to try to go outside the clearing and wander at least in the backyard of the familiar house, not inside it, but he resolutely stopped himself. This was a trial run, he had not yet deployed all the planned defenses and had not called the best defenders. Not today and not now, there would be time for a full expedition. Though, he was tempted to change his mind at this very moment, to change his mind and step off the cliff in a daring dive, discarding the superfluous and disregarding reassurances. He intuitively understood that a little more and was guaranteed to receive some of the specific and not ordinary system knowledge about leaving the body or staying out of the body.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:29

The potential reward he could not be sure of was not worth the risks and possible injuries so, pragmatic and bored Stepan came back to the center of the clearing, activating, directly from his spiritual state, the reverse mode of his bed. The wind blew gently and strongly in the opposite direction, allowing him to bind himself to his body without wasting energy on keeping the streams of ether from carrying him off somewhere far away. First he-spirit removed the reflections of his belt, bracelets, and necklaces, putting them back in place and connecting them to the material anchors, which in the real world looked not even dim, but almost invisible, even less significant than earth and stones, especially if everything around him was so imbued with spiritual power. Funny, but thanks to the contrast he could distinguish the foundations of his creations since they seemed like specks of emptiness on the fierce beauty of the universe. Only after he had finished connecting the images of his artifacts did he slip into his body, putting it on as easily as he put on his usual clothes in the morning.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:32

Stepan woke up with a very strange sensation, and he woke up exactly, because his body, as soon as the native spirit returned to him, immediately fell into sleep, even if for a couple of minutes, no more. He felt strange as if he had been asleep for a long time, but he woke up too early and didn't want to do anything, and his head hurt a little. He was back to normal in just a couple of seconds, just by running his own power through his aura, but he made a mark for himself. He made a lot of marks, lying down like that and putting thoughts into the system notebook, mostly all sorts of “redo”, “supplement”, “fix” and “this here is fine”. Standing up from the stone, stretching a little, and looking at the experience bar that had grown to four-fifths of the new level, Stepan began to do, change, fix, and prepare - the test had been successful, the only thing left was, as they would say on Earth, not to screw up in the production.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:34

He realized that such preparations couldn't be done in a couple of hours, so his next expedition to the spirit world would take at least a day, but more likely more. It's a big risk, but the result should be really outstanding. If without training and in the thick of the fire, the System will inevitably reward him for such feats. But, since he didn't want to go into the fire and had already spent on preparation, now, he only had to repay the expenses. In fact, of course, he wants to walk around the world of spirits for a day or two, or even more, not for fun and the desire to end his life. His knowledge clearly indicated that such raids for a long time are practiced by many shamanic traditions. One exit from the body for a day will give much more than seventy-two for one hour, many times more.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:40

So such techniques were used everywhere, if, of course, one had the skill to exist for so long in an alternate state, the strength to maintain that existence, the willpower to continue to realize oneself in such an unusual state, and the means to provide such a luxury for oneself. Contract spirits, numerous tricks, special reagents, strengthening rituals, as well as colleagues, relatives, and mentors (or students), which will follow the abandoned body and will not let you die foolishly are also important. Stepan could either provide all this himself, no worse than others, as with spirits and training, numerous protective constructions, which will cover no worse than a couple of colleagues, as well as his modifications of the spiritual body, which in general will allow to immediately begin to realize themselves in a new state and effectively act.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:43

But even with all this, he was not lazy to go to Kirik, to eat another pie from his wife, whom he had not seen in person yet, but already respected immensely, even more than Kirik, and also to inform him that for the next week, or even a decade, no need to send Meld with food. The shaman will go to the forest and shamanize there, it is not worth worrying and considering him eaten by wolves too, as well as to organize rescue expeditions. The protection of the clearing averts the eyes, and before the decisive phase of the plan, he will bring it to the afterburner and paranoia mode, which can kill a random traveler. Of course, there was still an option in which he urgently needed help, the spirits would not be able to provide it, and people simply would not reach, but this is from the category of nonsense. If he found himself in a situation where all his cherished training would not save him, then Meld, who had accidentally reached the totemic clearing would not be able to help him, even if he sincerely wanted to.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:47

"Gotch, honorable, it's clear to me, I won't send the boy with food, let him help someone else or at least stay out of the way." Kirik agreed calmly and without unnecessary emotions, but Stepan did not like his next question, even though he did not let his emotions show on his face. "Honored Pann, tell me honestly only, here. Shall I forbid the children and everyone else to go into the forest any time soon? Don't misunderstand me, Your Magic, but I know how it is when something doesn't go according to plan."

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:52

"Well, then I'd better not go," Stepan admitted frankly, monitoring the man's reaction with a couple of additional spirits planted in his own aura in addition to the one he already had, as soon as the topic of conversation became a little slippery. "There won't be anything directly dangerous there, and I've closed off my clearing from prying eyes myself, but I'm not sure. When I come back, you can go mushrooming again, everything will be fine."

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 05:53

"Heh, to the mushrooms, in winter, oh, Your Magic, you know how to say it like that, I'll have to memorize it, hehehe. Now I'll know how to send someone to gather mushrooms in the forest in winter." Stepan realized he had made a mistake with mushrooms, but didn't care what they went to the forest for in winter, for strawberries of a special cold-resistant breed or magic cherries for real heroes. "All right, good, I'll twist everyone's tails and ears, and you, as soon as you come back, tell me right away so that I don't worry about you or my assholes. They're all my relatives, like children, sometimes not the dumbest ones."

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 16:42

Smirking in response to such a flattering characteristic of the villagers under his charge, with whom the poor headman had turned gray so early, Stepan finished his pie, said goodbye to Kirik, and went back to his room. Still, there were really important days ahead, and he seriously expected to close not only the almost-taken level but also the next one, not to mention a couple of specific knowledge, that could be obtained as a result of out-of-body travel. He was no longer nervous, just burned out after so much preparation time. If he managed to get into trouble and get himself killed, then it was just unclear how else he could avoid it. The offer to sell himself into slavery to a pretty elven magician with a great passion for shamanism and young human shamans should not be offered, no one would offer anyway. And he with such offers would be fried by lightning by these same elven magicians, that's for sure.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 07:18

This time he dreamed at night of numerous air battles, where he, riding on a jet barrel with beer, leaving a trail of beer foam behind him, shot down the latest generation MiGs with blows of paired enchanted scoops, making obscene gestures in the face of shocked ejected pilots. And then one of the pilots, waving his arms very quickly like a bumblebee, caught up with his jet barrel and, removing the oxygen mask from his face that prevented him from speaking, brazenly declared that he could not physically fly the beer barrel for so long, because the beer in it should have run out long ago. Immediately the foamy beer tail, which had begun to thin and shrink, made sounds like a pipe clearing, and the keg with its pilot flew downward, to the mocking laughter of the pilot waving his arms. Stepan shouted to him that he couldn't fly like that either, because it was anatomically unreal, but he only laughed even more mockingly and said that he hadn't passed anatomy at school.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 19:10

Stepan woke up abruptly, almost falling out of bed, and for almost a minute he thought what a fool he was that he had not thought of simply plugging the hole in the barrel with his finger and flying on the remnants of beer without a foamy tail. Only after bemoaning his stupidity for about three minutes and successfully washing his face did he finally wake up and realize what a crazy dream he'd had.

Camrad_RIP 14.06.24 в 19:11

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Camrad_RIP 11.06.24 в 18:55

The world had already changed in a familiar way, distorted and opened up in a new way, but now Stepan was ready and only, figuratively speaking, shrugged his ghostly shoulders, getting used to the new format of sensations. This time he didn't waste so much time crawling in circles, immediately, to put it allegorically again, he stood on crutches and moved away from his clearing. He cast only a single glance at the body left in the care of the multitude of spirits, checking everything that could be checked and finding it satisfactory. The spirits that he had not summoned last time, the spirits that monitored his health and aura, as well as the potions he had drunk before entering the world of subtle spheres and bought for the accumulated store currency.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 06:56

The concoctions were of the kind that classical mages rather than savage shamans mixed for themselves, which was why he had to pay a surcharge. Nothing that he couldn't try to brew himself, albeit weaker, from analogs and in a different doctrine, but to succeed he, who had no specialized potions knowledge, only fragments from several other talents, would have to spend almost a month. No, his time was worth more, and it was better to spend a little more than to torture himself for the same amount of time. He had almost burned himself out while preparing, but he must stop on time because a dozen years would pass and he would still be preparing for the first time. The potions he had bought were not of a strengthening nature and did not improve shamanic techniques or understanding of the spiritual world. Even though they existed in a huge assortment, Stepan consciously avoided them, intending to develop only his abilities, which has a positive effect on the disclosure of personal potential and, more importantly, is not screw with the potential to waste. It was too easy to get used to getting addicted to alchemical supports. No, if it were a matter of battle and survival, Stepan would have used everything he had, disregarding a healthy lifestyle and articles for drug possession and distribution. But he had originally started it all for the sake of development and progress, so why should he limit this development? He did everything in his power and even a little more on purpose to make himself as safe as possible from all sides, but not to create hothouse conditions in which it would not be possible to develop.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 07:04

In conventional terms, Stepan, wanting to learn to swim, refused to put on a life preserver, as well as an inflatable vest, armbands, and underpants, limiting himself to a piece of foam plastic in his teeth, but leaving a couple of professional lifeguards swimming three meters away from him, as well as a resuscitation team and an underwater commando with a harpoon, in case of an unwanted shark. Doing less is an overly irresponsible risk, and doing more is analogous to swimming in a vest, armbands, life preserver and still sitting on a mattress. You can do it that way, but why, if you don't learn anything, only waste your energy? For the sake of new impressions? Yeah, just take and organize a travel company, which will carry all comers around the world of spirits for a good price. Hot tickets, family offers, and teach the spirit guards to take the form of sexy models in bikinis. And then call themselves the Malibu Shamans!

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 07:09

His thoughts, habitually foolish, jumping from topic to topic, swarmed in his head, because the transition to a new way of thinking was confusing emotions and feelings, even if there was no body to regulate them. His feelings and thoughts did not prevent him from going around the clearing in a circle and, at the last moment, to step outside. In this space, his power over the surrounding reality was much lower than in the clearing, and the world itself had become not so much dimmer as more unstable, more noticeable were the currents of ether and the currents of forces that were trying to pick up the poor shaman and carry him away on their wings like Ellie, perhaps even returning him somewhere in the Kansas area. Stepan could have resisted, he easily could have, but near his coordinate, very close and far at the same time, there were two cool-looking jellyfish guards, and in the center of the main spiritual node there was a resting Fugitive. With such an oversight, there was simply no point in limiting himself to minimal steps, especially since he had already mastered moving and orienting himself in this world.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 07:13

No, he didn't immediately jump into the current, he walked around a bit more and looked from the side at the built line of defense. He even ran into some small spirits of evil and dark orientation. A classic leech, quite insignificant, would have been death and destruction for an average shaman's apprentice in his situation without cover. The same dilemma of a fish on dry land or a beast underwater as mortals falling into the spirit world feel. Under such conditions, even those entities that a shaman can effortlessly swaddle in reality can easily become a deadly surprise. The jellyfish didn't have time to intervene, as Stepan shifted into himself, releasing the spirit armor over his vulnerable body, so familiar and even easier to control than when he was in his body, forcing the spirit into the stone hardness of the protection, and then embracing the leech with it, grasping it with his grip and sprouting claws, tearing the attacker to shreds.

Camrad_RIP 15.06.24 в 07:15

In the real world, he couldn't manipulate his spiritual transformation so easily, but here it came out reflexively. He didn't have to use his third hand at all, just his active defense. He smiled. He didn't understand how, but he replaced smile with a grin. One fleeting wish, and he sees himself, his naked and exposed spirit in the form he took in that instant. It is still possible to recognize Stepan in him, but he is transparently ghostly, covered with a layer of shimmering steel-gray protection, and behind his back - though this is subjective, for he has no back at all - there is a combat limb folded into itself in the form of a mantis scythe, a crab's claw, or a beast's paw. Another effort of will, an appeal to his own knowledge, and then he was covered by a weightless haze of the same steel-gray spiritual shadow, concealing his appearance and the characteristic markings of his spirit. A second effort, and now the shroud, which had hitherto been asleep, also went with him, hiding the necessary parts of his aura.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 06:58

In his normal state he cannot change and regulate so much, only hide or reveal his own giftedness, or close himself off completely, becoming an empty space. But now he is not in a body, he is in a new state of being and in such a state there are, despite the dangers, undeniable advantages. Such as a deeper understanding of any properties of his own aura and spirit. Not without difficulties, but he, using the shroud and the skill of spiritual manipulation managed to blur his own aura, to make it not only less noticeable in general, but categorically unrecognizable, not leaving characteristic markers-traces-prints. It was a trick he had long ago invented and theorized, but he could not perform it before, and now, he could not do it either in a normal body, not even in a weak semblance. The influence of flesh was still too strong. But it would become weaker the more the young man became accustomed to such abilities, the more he shrouded his spirit in a new, more developed format.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 07:01

When he was done with the disguise and ensure that both jellyfish didn't think of him as someone else, Stepan “stepped forward” letting one of the currents wash over him, yielded to its pressure and let himself be carried higher, farther, farther, but at the same time not deeper, because in the depths of the spiritual world, where the pressure of reality was no longer evident, and the spheres merged with each other directly, one could encounter too much shit. No, no, the first exit will be on the surface, maximum at the end will be a couple of shallow and controlled dives. So the current carried Stepan, wrapped in his own battle tentacle and watching the world. He could see Upper Lyady quite clearly. He knew what the spiritual world looked like in the reflection of the village, but he didn't linger there, letting himself be carried further. The reflection of the etheric current from the mighty Dantra was more serious, and he had to make a conscious and noticeable effort not to fall into it. In an instant, some beast-like thing struck from below, or from his own spiritual pocket, or from the vector of a dimension absent in normal perception, but it came out suddenly, even, rather, SUDDENLY. Stepan still has time to look at his opponent, a sort of four-legged mix of a ferret and a dog, even manages to strike towards him and put up a defense.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 07:06

The claw's counter-strike catches only the streams of ether left at the site of the creature's impetuous jerk, the defense meets it with spikes and its own blow, but the entity only mockingly wiggles, openly flaunting itself and coming at Stepan from the unprotected side. He has no time for anything else and prepares to lose a chunk of his ripped out spiritual body as the guards have spoken their weighty word. No, his jellyfish were not like the guards from the cartoon about Bremen Musicians, they turned out to be really fast and damn competent. Following to the last the shaman's orders not to get involved in his battles until the danger of serious injury was obvious, they struck simultaneously and much faster than this agile ferret-saurus.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 15:04

A single jellyfish tentacle darted forward, weaving through the space of the dimension at an unimaginable angle, barely touching the spirit that hadn't even noticed the attack. The spirit was immediately electrocuted, poisoned, chilled, and a few other unrecognized effects, depriving it of movement and escape, and a moment later the jellyfishes were already tearing the beast apart in a combined movement. Calmly, quickly, without heat and even without going off their measured steaming near-and-distant Stepan. That was a real level! The young man somehow immediately realized that even though in the real world he could restrain and force more dangerous spirits to obedience, but here and now, if at least one of the jellyfish tried to finish him off, he would be killed immediately and without options. 'Fish on land', the shaman reminded himself again and again. This is all a consequence of the paradox of the spiritual world in relation to the shaman, not Stepan, who is such a miserable asshole.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 15:07

But even though he did not show any fear and apprehension, and the spirits in general behaved indifferently about what was happening, but still the guy was glad that he had chosen the most reliable of the possible and available spiritual guards, and then also bound them with additional restrictions in several layers, and all willingly and without coercion, so that the return was maximum. No, there were stronger spirits among the available, but all of them did not fit something, either by specialization, or aspects, or bad character, or refusal of a more dense contract and the likelihood of fraud. Not to say that with the jellyfishes he felt as if he were behind a stone wall of alien power, but a certain calm awareness of the power behind him helped. It also provoked him to take risks, but Stepan fought it as resolutely as he fought his own laziness.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 15:10

The river's current, combined with the etheric current, allowed him to travel quickly and comfortably, though a couple of times he almost dived deeper. Each time, the necklace helped him, acting as an instantaneously activated float, pulling him back to the lower spheres, closer to Reality. He didn't activate it a second time, however, and instead spent nearly a third of his reserve to escape the maelstrom of ether and swim from the edge of the hole to deeper water. It hadn't been easy, not even heavy, but he'd made it, and the adventure hadn't ended so quickly. No, even if it had ended, it would have been only because the Fugitive would have pulled the contractor back into his body, but it was still pleasant - he managed it, he did it himself, he was a good man. The System in this state was in a kind of hibernation mode, apparently having decided to give out all the rewards after returning to the body, although Stepan realized at that moment that he could summon the status and get the reward for the accomplishment right now. But he didn't, clearly understanding and realizing that he wouldn't be able to assimilate knowledge and keep in the necessary state of consciousness at the same time, that it would be a real risk, close to suicidal. He didn't even bother to check whether the level increase had happened to him or whether he had gained free knowledge, he just noted the exact time and went on his way.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 15:16

The shaman swam out of the river flow, or rather, fell out of it, onto the part of the ether that was responsible for the shore, but it was unreal to recognize these places, too much distortion, too much incomprehensible. Somehow orienting himself, he picked up another current coming from the river, not towards it, taking off somewhere else. A few more encounters with small and aggressive spirits he resolved on his own, getting more and more comfortable with his new setup. On one more occasion, when something evil and saturated with scalding flames almost floated by, he wrapped himself in the shroud and the spirit that had already headed towards him slowed down, flew in circles and went about its business. However, then his jellyfish start worried, also lost sight of their employer and between them there was a tense dialog, which was reduced to the idea of "do not do so without warning, boss," with which Stepan, after a little thought, agreed. Yes, and he did not like the full Shroud in this mode. He was completely cut off from the world of spirits, almost locked in a newly created pocket, and even without the slightest inflow of strength. It became difficult to even just think, and he, if he had not already been a little prepared, could well just freeze, fall asleep gradually suffocating himself in the arms of his own property.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 15:23

He came to the village suddenly, even though it was twice or three times larger than Lyadya and could be considered a small town by medieval standards, with a population of half a thousand at least, not counting those who just passed by. The earthling's spirit flew around, observed the dim and barely distinguishable figures of people, the patterns of magical protections on the largest buildings woven into something resembling artistic representations of electrical circuits, looked at the small temple of Fertile from afar, and did not approach. But he noticed a small drama in the form of two human figures dragging a smaller figure into the forest, another figure, also not particularly large, already dragging a smaller figure. cooling down and giving up the last drops of energy to the world around them. It was not possible to see more, it was very difficult to act on reality from such a position and state, spirits need a shaman or a magical source for transition to reality, but Stepan was not a spirit, but a shaman. A double blow with a tentacle with a clawed palm at the end, and both of brutes already managed to tear off the sluggishly twitching victim's clothes and tactilely evaluate her charms, sharply arch their backs, trying with their hands to find their hearts, which had stopped beating. Of course it would have stopped beating if Stepan, having somehow saved a third of his reserve, had managed to tear out the parts of their aura that were responsible for the heart.

Camrad_RIP 13.06.24 в 16:53