A Lich's Guide to Dungeon Mastery

I pulled myself out of the Loci Server, and was glad to see that I hadn’t simply discorporated, and was still in the megalibrary. I suppose my bodies falling apart wasn’t really a thingI had to worry about anymore, since the bodies I connected to weren’t actually storing my consciousness, but rather acted as a conduit for it.

I thought over the image I’d been shown and the knowledge that had been installed into my brain. It was an inscription, which was sorta like a rune. Inscriptions were like words in the language of magic, and they had the ability to passively use energy in ways that corresponded to their meanings. The process of finding inscriptions was supposed to be pretty rough, but Kelemnion was stuffed full of information about obscure stuff like that.

With that said, I was most certainly not ready for whatever that had been. Nope, I’m just gonna go over here and mess around with this dinky little introductory guide, thank you very much.

The first book didn’t take too long to read through, its knowledge seeming to flow into my mind as I held it. I quickly gained a more detailed perspective on what I’d just experienced.

Honestly, this book was more of a warning against using inscriptions than anything else. It described them as inefficient and wasteful. Once an inscription was given an intent, a touch of Conceptium, it would start replicating and using it when it was supplied with energy. Whatever "word" it was would determine how it would manifest. They tended to work like Auras or Domains, and would slowly alter the world to suit their purposes.

Exploring my knowledge of Ordinance, I found that it represented law and order. It would impose a set of rules upon the world, and the stronger the initially supplied intent, the more strict they would be. At the same time, the more energy that I poured into it, the more powerful the compulsion would be, both for the energies of the world and other creatures.

There was a lot more I wanted to learn here in Kelemnion before I went off to go test this stuff out. For example, I needed a way to grant my creatures greater resistance against Light-based attacks, as well as a way to counter whatever magic that Esheth guy was using. Hopefully the answer to one would lead me to the other.

I focused on giving the undead resistance to Light-based magics, and soon found myself in a somewhat more ornate part of the library. Perhaps this place was closer to Alephdria than I’d been before? Come to think of it, the area just before this one had seemed a bit… simpler. Maybe it was reaching the boundaries of what knowledge could be considered “forbidden?” That was an interesting theory. If I ever needed to know something that was just common knowledge, would Kelemnion even be able to help me find an answer?

Anyways, looking into the books around myself, I found that they were somewhat sparse, but extremely varied nonetheless. Did Kelemnion reorganize the shelves to slide everything I was searching for into the same space? Yet another interesting quirk about this place.

The first book that caught my attention whispered into my mind as I stepped closer. It was hard to grasp exactly what it was saying, but I got the sense that it had the answers I was looking for. Then again, that might just be the book talking.

I pulled it from the shelves and started leafing through. Like before, the book’s knowledge seemed to leech from the pages and into my brain.

This book, entitled Jackel's Affinities, detailed a method of forcing open the affinities of a creature to grant it resistances and magic of its own, and perhaps even specializations. As for the reason this was considered forbidden knowledge…

The creator of this book seemed to care very little for life other than his own, and had vivisected multiple people, some who had specializations and some who didn’t. For context, humans typically gain access to their legends and specialize when they’re 12. So, basically, he tortured small children to death. I think the stigma against him was justified.

Furthermore, he'd experimented on live creatures, some of which had then been set loose into populated areas. In other words, he wasn’t a very cool dude. Still, the information he’d left behind was perfectly usable, though I’d need to find a way to dunk my monsters in Lux without melting them.

The book itself recommended using items that granted elemental resistance, but I didn't have any of those. Perhaps I could figure out how to make some?

With that thought on my mind, I refocused and took a few steps, suddenly appearing much closer to the neutral zone of the Aethenium. The closest, thickest book in the area immediately started whispering into my mind, so I just picked it up to get it over with.

Just like with the Ordinance inscription that I'd accidently found, this one was just… so many things. It was a bit less vague, so the effects were slightly less varied, but they're was still a whole lot packed into this rune. Defense.

This inscription was simple, in theory. One might assume that to defend was simply to provide protection, maybe make automatic shields or provide resistance, like what I was after. In reality, defense was much more than that. Automatic traps. Weaponry. With the right intent and energy derivative, an inscription could take on nearly any attributes. An army reduced to ash by black fire. Pillars of stone rising to engulf a massive wolf, immobilizing it before it could attack a town. A warrior’s skull exploding as they tried to slash down at a robed figure.

I could feel my mind buckling from the images, but managed to hold on this time. That was, apparently, a mistake.

An urge swept over me, then faded to a slight tickle. It was, predictably, telling me to use and embody this Defense inscription. I tried to push it away, but found that I couldn't. Instead, I drew into my Loci Server, that semi-physical space within my Repository that stored the pure state of my soul.

Rapidly, the tingling sensation at the back of my brain vanished, and I felt a burden leave my body. Perhaps this place had affected me more than I'd been able to notice? I would have to be more careful with what I chose to read here in the future.

Now, I could try to cross reference the information I've gained with the other books here, but I think I'd rather just go test this stuff out. An inky pool spread out before my feet as I activated Library Pass for the second time, stepping forward and sinking into it for a moment. Then I stood before my Repository, in my tower once again.

As soon as I stepped through, I felt a strong buzz, so I checked on my legend to see the change.

Seif Ambrose

Ancient Seeker 5

Repository 2

Infomorph 2

Loci Server 2

Available Boon (Mind Drones, Firewall)

Forbodum Manipulation 1

Esoteric Sight 2

Conceptual Control 1

Occult Sovereignty 1

Encompassing Knowledge 1

Abstractive Influence 1

Kelemnion’s Gate 1

Library Pass 1

Available Boon (Librarian’s Favor, Book Borrowing)

Dark Whispers 1

Ancient Mutterings 1

Inspiration 0

Enhancements: Willpower x5

Named Belongings: Caerbalope, Antigo, Arachnomicon, Drachma’Uban

Ooh, two options at once. Then again, these Skills are very low-leveled, especially when you consider that I won’t be able to level up again until they’re all at least level 6. They were more powerful, and were based on a more esoteric energy, but they were still currently weak, especially for someone with five Willpower Enhancements.

Anyways, the options. Mind Drones would allow me to create small splinters of my consciousness which would carry out specific tasks. I had Wisps that could do the same, so it didn’t appeal all that much, though they would have more of my abilities, considering that they would basically be autonomous extensions of myself. Still, I could replicate the effect by stuffing a ton of knowledge and energy into a Wisp, so it wouldn’t be unique. Firewall would strengthen the barrier between my Loci Server and any potential threats by creating a filter throughout the bonds between itself and the real world, specifically between my bodies and physical Repository.

Firewall was also somewhat redundant, considering that I knew how to replicate the Mental Shield from my previous evolution, but in this case it would also function as a more passive defense, whereas I actually needed to waste a bit of focus to get Mental Shield working. Another interesting thing about Firewall was that it would also block hostile Conceptium from entering my Loci Server, so any that entered my space would be completely under my control.

I looked over the Gate options before confirming my selection, just to make sure that I wouldn’t regret my decision.

Librarian’s Favor would give me more power and authority within Kelemnion, which was something I was already greatly enjoying. I would be able to reorganize bookshelves at a glance and control exactly where I went and exactly what books I saw. For example, if I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I would just be able to wander around and maybe find my way to the border of Kelemnion, wherever it intersected with another affinity, and then search around to see what sort of things were there.

Book Borrowing was exactly what it sounded like. I would be able to take a single book out of Kelemnion without incurring any penalties or facing repercussions. What those penalties and repercussions would be, I had no clue, but in any case I would be glad to avoid them.

Still, Librarian’s Favor felt better to me. I had a pretty good memory, even if I sometimes forgot or overlooked details here and there, and I sorta doubted that I’d be able to find anything fun for Azrael to read. The poor girl was going loopy from the boredom, and even her occasional hunts had stopped cheering her up.

I really couldn’t do much since I was so busy handling my own progression to prepare for that Esheth guy’s return. I was hoping that her upcoming specialization upgrade would help, but she needed a Light affinity. Hopefully my work here will help with that.

Having concluded my deliberations, I discarded Mind Drones and Book Borrowing, then created an Arachnomicon in front of me, having chosen it because of its flat shape and relative inexpensiveness. The creation and animation process was a bit… odd, though. Much like the creation of my own body and the Wisp from earlier, it was completely different, but in a good way. Once I completed the process by animating it, I inspected it for a long moment.

A couple basic commands were followed by more complex ones, and I slowly nodded my head. Forbodum was a knowledge-based energy, and so it seemed that creations using it were just more intelligent. Had my intelligence increased as well, since it had altered my Phylactery into a Repository? An interesting question, but I hadn’t noticed any shift, so there probably wasn’t any difference.

On my other side, I formed a bone dagger. I was skilled enough with creating undead flesh that I could freehand stuff like that, and I needed it for the inscriptions I’d be making. The books I’d studied– read: downloaded into my head– had informed me in no uncertain terms that inscriptions had to be done by hand. It had something to do with energy flow and Conceptium that was slowly formed and fed into the material as you carved. Eventually, I would probably get a specialized Antigo/Wisp task force to work on this, but for now I would have to do it myself.

I grabbed the monstrosity by its cover and commanded it to stay still as I began to carve. Being a creation of pure Forbodum, the energies within it rapidly began to shift to accommodate the rune that was forming. This process was actually quite interesting, and had been briefly covered by the instructional books. The more compatible a surface you were working with, the faster the process would go by. Opposing elements would resist the transformation.

Using a pure form of one energy for both the creation and activation of an inscription, though, was considered a bad idea for reasons that will become obvious when I use this one.

The defensive rune rapidly took shape on the Arachnomicon’s cover, and I was soon glaring down at a somehow-familiar group of scratches. It didn't really look like anything, but it felt like it did.

With the physical portion of the work finished, I started searching around for an intent to shove into the rune, but came up mostly blank. I had the Death Conceptium stored in my Repository, but I felt that it would be unwise to use Death in a Defense inscription, especially if I was going to power it with Forbidden Knowledge.

Instead, I started focusing on gathering Conceptium with my Abstractive Influence, concentrating on the idea of making a wall. Pretty basic, I know, but I felt that it would be effective as an initial experiment.

Once I’d gathered enough, I siphoned off a bit of this “Barrier” Conceptium to make another rat in my Repository, chuckling as it took shape. The rest of the energy was slowly inserted into the inscription I’d made. A “normal” crafter would have to focus completely on their intent and purpose for the rune while making it and just spew energy into it the whole time. If their concentration faltered or they ran out of energy before the inscription was finished and completely suffused with Conceptium, then the project would need to be scrapped. Forbodum was letting me skip that step and guarantee a 100% success rate, so long as I knew what I was doing and didn’t mess up the inscription itself.

When I’d stuffed enough Barrier intent into the Defense inscription, it started to glow. This was the sign that it was complete, so I stuffed the remaining energy into the rat in my head, making it grow even larger. It was now about the same height as an infant, but I only took a moment to appreciate the giant glowing rat stuck in the rubber room that was my mind.

I slowly pushed a bit of Forbodum out into the inscription, and it was latched onto. The color of the inscription’s glow shifted to a dark purple, with small bits of black floating around. Quickly, I grabbed the Arachnomicon and pointed it at the wall before shunting even more energy into it. My creation started to quiver and shriek, and then the inscription activated.

A huge plane of symbols formed in front of me even as the living book crumbled to dust. I stepped towards the wall of force, and felt a slight shift, like I was back in Kelemnion and approaching a particularly powerful book. I threw a rock at it, and it was repelled with the same power that it struck the barrier with.

As for why my book turned to dust, that was actually a pretty easy question. When an inscription was created on and powered with the same type of energy, it was called a talisman. Talismans had limited uses, but were stronger than the other, more lasting type, which were called enchantments. A talisman would basically cannibalize itself to make an effect, whereas an enchantment would provide a weaker, constant effect whenever you provided it with energy.

Anyways, I didn't yet have all the parts to put the plan of immunizing my creatures to the Light into action, but I did have some new ideas for how they could function. I ran some quick tests and found that I could still recreate all of my creatures, even Uban and the Nailwolves. In fact, the Nailwolves’ magic was much stronger now, which made sense since they were using my new affinity. I could also still access and create Seams, and all the rest of my “Spatium” abilities were stronger than ever.

I inspected the second set of floors. I’d never actually gotten a good look at what my Wisps had styled them after, but when I got a good look at it, I was actually quite surprised. It was a karst, with stone pillars and sinkholes littering the terrain. The Nailwolves sat up on elevated peaks, hidden from the view of their prey. From this position, they’d be able to ambush adventurers easily, which would let them utilize their devastating attacks more effectively.

The Nailwolves were mostly solitary, since they were just so powerful, but I decided to organize a couple into packs throughout this second section of my tower. They’d be something like the elites of the floor, anyone unlucky enough to find them would have a high likelihood of simply dying. That might be a little unfair, but that’s just how chance works. If they take the risk and roll snake eyes, that’s on them.

Having done all of that inspection, I created three Nailwolves and a single Arachnomicon on the 16th floor.

It was boss time, and this was going to be cool.