The other patrons paid no attention to him this time, already at the bottom of their sixth or seventh mug and more focused on cramming as much joy as they could into their time before they had to head back home or to work.
The proprietor had sampled some of his own product to help the last hours of the night go by faster, and gave Morne a smile like the large man was just another customer.
He didn't even question the odd request and gave the dough to Morne for free, citing it as "the breakfast he missed," so Morne thanked him and headed back up to his room with a handful of raw dough.
Morne plopped down on his bed, holding the dough in one hand and summoning the book in the other.
Morne studied the diagram for Invigorating Touch thoroughly, then circulated his Chimh in the given pattern until a Mark formed.
When it did, reddish-black energy seeped out from his pores, coating his hand and flowing into the dough. He felt his cheeks pale the longer he kept it up.
It was hardly noticeable, but he wasn't the type of person to just waste his life force, so he stopped.
Fifteen minutes later, he had assigned the incantation "bestow life" to the Spell, and fired it off on the dough to test it, cutting it short soon after his success.
He then repeated the process with Withering Touch, casting it once to form the Mark and again after assigning an incantation.
"Wither away."
Another coat of dark energy appeared around his hand. But this time, instead of just pouring out, it exited his hand and swirled around the dough, sapping away at it before obediently returning to his palm.
The return was minimal, about the same rate as he lost with the first Spell, but using this he was able to retrieve most of what he had spent previously.
He ended the Spell with a thought.
All in all, he had spent around an hour total learning both.
These two Spells were a lot harder to learn than Splinter was, because they were continuous as opposed to the strike nature of Splinter. The time to assign an incantation to them was likewise increased.
But despite the increased difficulty, Morne had learned two new Spells.
Morne had no clue if this speed was impressive, horrible, or somewhere in between, and he didn't particularly care.
He dropped the dough onto the plate and thought about learning the other two Novice Spells, eventually deciding to do so.
Both had the potential to be useful, but were more niche in their uses. But still, Morne had little clue what the future held for him, and he had nothing but time on his hands. If the time came when he needed these Spells and didn't have them, it would be too late for regret.
But before he could start on them, he needed some bones.
Luckily, he had some available.
He tore the last of the flesh off one of the chicken legs from his dinner, holding it at eye level as he mustered his Chimh.
In ten minutes, a Mark had formed on his Tower's wall, and a trickle of information worked its way into his mind.
The silhouette of a chicken appeared in his mind's eye, shadowy and hardly recognizable.
This Spell was called Marrow Memory, and gave the caster a vague idea of a bone's origin species, with the only restriction being that it could only decipher internal bone structures.
So things like insects, which lacked internal bones, would turn up blank to this Spell.
Again, its use was extremely niche, but Morne would rather have it and not need it than be confronted with a scenario where he could do nothing but regret not learning this Spell.
After another ten minutes, he cast the Spell again with the words "reveal your secrets to me." He wouldn't need this Spell in combat, so the lengthier incantation wouldn't hurt.
Once again, that foggy image of a chicken appeared in his mind, fading into oblivion shortly after.
Finally, after twenty more minutes, he held a small shard of bone no bigger than a walnut that he had broken off of the chicken leg in his palm.
"Bite the bullet."
The shard zipped out of his palm with the speed of a thrown rock before bouncing off the wall with a *thunk*.
Morne stood and examined the results, slightly disappointed that the wall only had a small hole in it from where a sharp piece of the projectile had stabbed into it and no other damage.
The Spell he had just cast, Bone Bullet, was the last Novice Spell in the book. Like the other four Novice Spells, its power was sadly underwhelming.
On the bright side, since Morne currently had access to the Pebble Height of his Tower, his Spells' Marks were instantly inscribed upon the Tower's walls.
Dust, the Height before Pebble, was indicative of the Novice rank, and would be a Tower of nothing but debris. With a Tower of this Height, the only choice one had was to inscribe their Marks on this debris.
The first floor of a Tower denoted the Pebble Height, or Apprentice rank. Since the rubble no longer existed, Novice Spells would instead be inscribed on the walls of the first floor, a phenomenon unique to the Pebble Height.
This came with a few benefits, such as quicker mastery of the Novice Spells. Since the Mark was already on the Apprentice-equivalent floor of the Tower, the Marks would strive to match their homes.
This was also the only time that the previous Mark would vanish. In exchange, the Apprentice Spell would be stronger than similar Spells of its Grade, and would also come with the shorter casting time that mastery typically came with.
Morne wouldn't be stuck with such lackluster results for long. After some work, his Spells would evolve. And since he had another four days in this inn, he'd be working on exactly that.
Using the dough and the bones as targets, he cast his five Spells over and over again, a feat made easier since he was fueling Novice Spells with a Puddle-deep Chimh Well.