The tendrils of white mist curled around Osric's fingertips, permeating into his body's deepest core. The energy, like a famished beast, gnawed at his bones, coursing through them with relentless ferocity.
Pain, raw and unyielding, assaulted Osric's senses. It seared through his nerves, as piercing as winter's wind, overstayed its welcome, embedding itself deep within his being. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, akin to dewdrops on a leaf's edge at the break of dawn, formed a glossy sheen on his furrowed forehead.
As the world's energy traveled, it resonated with his bones, causing a faint hum to fill the air.
The hum was the sound of bones grinding under the tender force of energy as it entered the structure to nourish them.
Bone refinement was the hardest to do as they were the most solid structures of the body. The energy Osric channeled faced intense resistance, battling against the solidity of his bones. It was a relentless siege, chipping away at the fortress until it penetrated the insides.
The energy that Osirc infused had a rough time entering the insides of his bone, and when it did, it was whittled down significantly by the resistance it encountered.
The surviving energy seeped into every nook and cranny of the bones, infiltrating the marrow cavities. It sparked a series of reactions that transformed the pain into a muted, tantalizing hum. Osric's bones drank in the energy, their thirst insatiable.
The old became new, and the new became better.
They became stronger.
Metamorphosing beyond their original state. The energy stimulated the growth and regeneration of bone tissue, kick-starting the growth and regeneration of bone tissue and purging any weakness or damaged areas.
Furthermore, the energy imbued the bones with an extraordinary purity. It cleansed them of impurities, removing any lingering toxins or blockages that hindered their optimal functioning. Even microscopic fractures and imperfections, blemishes on the otherwise flawless surface, were mended, further reinforcing the structural integrity of each bone.
His muscles, under the burden of the energy flow, shivered with exertion. Muscles that once moved with ease now trembled with fatigue, betraying the fatigue steadily creeping in. Each wave of energy that Osric controlled gnawed at his reserves, pushing him further towards exhaustion.
As the energy flowed through his body, it drew upon his inner reserves, leaving him with a palpable sense of fatigue. Osric's breath grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to maintain control.
As the minutes turned into hours, the physical strain mounted, threatening to overwhelm him. Osric's movements became sluggish, his body growing heavy with exhaustion. Despite using essence stones to replenish his energy, he was mentally and physically drained. The refinement process demanded unwavering focus, a concentration that was proving to be a formidable challenge in the face of his physical fatigue.
Bowing to the mounting strain, Osric finally allowed himself to rest. He collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving as he fought for breath.
"I've reached my limit," Osric gasped out.
Though he felt the familiar onset of exhaustion, he remained conscious, unlike the previous time. Freed from the time needed for fracturing, he now had the luxury of pacing himself.
"Any more, and I would've been teetering on the edge of corruption," he murmured to himself, staring at the dwindling pile of essence stones that had been his lifeline.
The pile, once a towering monument, was now reduced to mere pebbles. His stash of essence stones, once abundant, had been decimated. He had used almost all the resources that Osrc's parents left behind.
"My progress depends on the resources I have," he mused, looking at his near-empty sack. "I need more essence stones before the tournament."
Osric, stretching his weary limbs, felt a new sense of energy within himself.
"It's about time I ventured into the wilderness," he smirked.
***
Osric threaded his way through the bustling village, its vibrancy still echoing a week after the celebration. The air was alive with the infectious laughter of children racing between the thatched cottages, the gruff banter of men discussing their yields, and the strident voices of women driving hard bargains in the market.
"I've gone through some 500 essence stones," he flexed his left fist, relishing the newfound power coiling within his veins. "Most I've sacrificed to fracturing, but some I managed to divert to refinement. It's a good start. I've fully refined the bones of my index and middle finger so far."
A brusque, "Oy," split his contemplation.
Whirling around, Osric spotted a familiar figure cutting through the throng, her young face masked with irritation. "Hey, Glu—" His greeting was interrupted by a swift punch to his stomach.
Wincing, he looked down to see Glucia nursing her own fist, her face twisted in an unusual blend of satisfaction and discomfort. "That hurt!" she complained, rubbing her knuckles.
"Should I be the one saying that?" Osric responded with an arch smile, trying to recover his wind.
Her retort was swift, her words crackling with playful aggression. "Zip it."
A chuckle escaped his lips. "So, how have you been?" He countered, taking the sudden assault in stride.
Her brows furrowed, a touch of frost creeping into her tone. "Tried to see you twice. Door was locked both times. You could at least try to be a decent host."
"Yeah, well, you see, there's this little thing called... training?" He smirked, parrying her jab with ease.
"Perhaps you should train that attitude of yours first," she retorted. Her tone softened as she continued, "Anyway, where are you off to?"
"I'm heading to the blacksmith's. Need to gear up for the missions we'll soon embark on." Osric turned, starting off once more down the cobblestone pathway.
"I could use a break from the books. Mind if I tag along?"
"Hmm. Brain refinement?"
"Specilize brain refinement, actually."
"Nice. Then we got an encyclopedia on our team then. Lucky us. Wait-" Osric looked at her mischievously "That's just you training, too, no?"
Her expression flickered to a smug grin, but she quickly dismissed him with a pointed, "Shut up!"
"Hehe"
As their banter faded into the background, they approached a grand building enclosed by a sturdy, wrought iron fence that looked like it had been shaped by the very hands that worked the forge. The rhythmic symphony of hammer meeting anvil echoed from within the premises. A plume of black smoke billowed skyward from its chimney, carrying the enticing scent of molten metal.
Entering the blacksmiths, Osric and Glucia found themselves bathed in the radiant glow of weaponry and armor hanging from the walls. The suffocating heat of the forge hung in the air, coating every surface in a thin film of sweat.
People milled about, examining the merchandise with awe and admiration.
A grizzled clerk at the counter, swathed in the haze of heat, broke off from his work to attend them. "What can I do for you, folks?"
Osric's eyes scanned the merchandise, pausing over an assortment of spears lined in a corner. "What do you have in stock?"
A proud huff escaped the clerk's lips, "You name it, we've got it. And if we don't, we can craft it for you by tomorrow. That's our promise."
With a nod, Osric requested, "Show me your selection of spears."
"Follow me," the clerk commanded, his voice echoing through the vast interior of the cavernous structure. Glucia and the Osric fell in line, their footsteps echoing in the silence.
As they traversed the labyrinthine depths of the building, Glucia broke the silence, curiosity coloring her words, "Osric, why a spear? Why not a sword, or a bow?"
Osric's lips curled into a thoughtful smile, "It offers a potent mix of reach and versatility. It can keep enemies at bay while still being agile enough for quick maneuvers."
The clerk chimed in, "And let's not forget the practical aspect. In the wilderness, a spear is far less of a hassle than swords or bows. It doesn't require the constant upkeep that other weapons do, which is why it's a popular choice among our customers."
"And here we are," the clerk announced as they stepped into a vast chamber lined with an imposing array of spears. Each weapon was meticulously displayed on racks, their gleaming tips catching the ambient light, creating a shimmering spectacle.
Osric approached, his eyes flickering with intrigue. His hand reached out, selecting a particular spear. He held it aloft, testing its weight and balance. It was an elegant weapon, its ashwood shaft embellished with intricate patterns that danced like fire.
"Ah, you've chosen the 'Wildfire Fang'," the shopkeeper observed, nodding in approval. "Its shaft is fashioned from the leather of a spiked liger, and the spearhead is made from Sunsteel - a rare and potent blend of enchanted metals. It's an excellent choice for swift, agile hunters."
Osric weighed the spear, his gaze appraising, "Where are the hybrid models?"
The clerk guided them to a different section, opening a large container filled with an array of hybrid spears. They varied in size and design, from thin, nimble spears to long, sturdy ones.
Intrigued, Glucia peered at Osric, "What exactly are you looking for?"
Without answering, Osric's fingers just danced over the spear shafts, appreciating their balance and weight. He picked up a spear with a darkened shaft.
The shopkeeper elaborated, "Ah, 'Thunderstrike'. Its shaft is carved from the resilient bark of the ancient skyrend tree, while the head is fashioned from the tusk of a three-tailed bulgan frog. This combination gives it exceptional durability and makes it ideal for both slashing and thrusting maneuvers."
The shopkeeper's eyes followed Osric's movements as he set down Thunderstrike, his interest seemingly waning. The room was filled with a silence as Osric's hand hovered over the rack, finally settling on a spear that radiated a green hue.
His hands reached out, lifting the weapon, evaluating its make and feel.
A soft gasp escaped the shopkeeper's lips. "Ah, the Galewing," he murmured. "That's a good spear, Galewing. Its shaft is composed of a windwood, giving it a fast stab. The spearhead, crafted from a blend of feathersteel and enchanted windstone make it a agility based spear." the blacksmith explained
Osirc caressed it's sleek and slender form. The spear had a length slightly longer than average, ensaded darkened wood shaft, provided good handling and balance. The spearhead took shape, featuring a long, slender blade optimized for piercing and a reinforced, wider base designed for deep stabs and thrusts.
He gestured at the sleek weapon, asking, "Where's the atlatl for this one?"
The clerk looked surprised, "You're quite the discerning one, aren't you? Not many would guess this is a throwing spear just from its design."
He returned with a slender wooden tool, its design simple yet functional. Glucia's curiosity piqued at the sight of the unfamiliar device, "What's that?"
"It's an atlatl," The clerk began, a hint of respect creeping into his voice, "A device that augments the throwing power of a spear. Think of the spear as an arrow, and the atlatl as your bow. It provides the leverage needed to propel the spear with increased velocity and range."
"This is made from windwood," he confirmed, running his fingers over the smooth length of the spear.
"What's that?" Glucia asked, pointing to the object in the clerk's hand.
"This," the clerk raised the object to better display it, "is an atlatl. It's a lever that significantly enhances the distance and power of thrown spears. Imagine the spear as an arrow, and the atlatl as the bow. It provides the leverage necessary to launch the spear with greater speed and distance."
"How do you use it?" Glucia's curiosity was piqued.
The clerk was more than happy to explain. "This notch here," he pointed to a small groove at the end of the atlatl, "is where the back end of the spear is seated. This handle," he gestured to the other end, "fits comfortably into the palm of your hand."
"You draw back the atlatl and spear together, using the full length of your arm to gather as much potential energy as possible. Then, in one smooth, rapid motion, you throw the spear. The atlatl imparts a whipping action that adds significant momentum to the spear's flight."
Gluica blinked, processing the information, before posing her next question, "That's impressive. Why doesn't everyone use it if it's that good?"
The clerk chuckled, "Well, the atlatl is a powerful tool, but it also has its limitations. Learning to use it effectively requires a lot of training. The grip, the release, the timing – you need to practice diligently to develop the necessary muscle memory and coordination. In many cases, it's easier and more practical for people to simply use a traditional throwing spear."
"Also, the atlatl needs space to be utilized properly. The increased velocity and range it provides means you need plenty of room to throw. In dense forests or cramped spaces, your ability to effectively launch the spear can be greatly reduced." The clerk turned his gaze to Osric, "Which makes me wonder why you're interested in it, given the close-quarter combat situations you recently awakened often find yourselves in."
"And how much for both of these?" Osric questioned, motioning towards the Galewing spear and the atlatl.
"The Galewing is priced at 450 essence stones and the atlatl will cost you another 100. However, if you purchase both together, I can offer a special discount, and it'll cost you 500 essence stones in total," the clerk offered.
Glucia gasped lightly, her eyes widening, "500?" she murmured, astounded by the sum.
"300," Osric shot back immediately, "You stated yourself, the atlatl isn't a popular item, so its price seems overestimated. As for the Galewing, it's a fine piece, yes, but it's made from windwood, isn't it? The same material that sparked that infestation in the distillery district last year?" A subtle smile crept onto his lips, "I believe they had to call in a Rank 2 Verminone to clear the mess."
The shopkeeper responded calmly, "And how does that factor into this negotiation? That was their own mistake, not a fault of the windwood."
"Windwood, harvested from the bark of thunderstricken windbelow trees, notorious for attracting insects due to its sweet scent," Osric spoke, reciting the information like a seasoned scholar, "It's a durable material, yes, but it requires constant maintenance to keep the pests away. And why do we purchase weapons? To venture into the forest for hunting."
"325," he added, maintaining a firm stance.
"450. The choice is yours," the clerk retorted, unmoved.
Osric pressed on, "How long have these items been in your stock? I'm actually doing you a favor by purchasing them. 330."
"Someone else will purchase them eventually." The clerk's expression hardened, "425."
"You're asking 425 for a hybrid spear, which already has limited appeal, crafted from a high-maintenance material? And an atlatl, a tool that's no longer in demand? Seriously?" Osric challenged him, locking eyes, "350. That's my offer. Take it or leave it. I'm certain we'll find a better deal at Bernard's shop down the street."
The clerk gritted his teeth, visibly irritated.
"Let's go, Glucia," Osric turned to leave, Glucia trailing behind him, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise.
Just as they were about to exit the shop, they heard an exasperated sigh behind them. Osric paused, a triumphant smile gracing his lips as he turned to face the clerk again.
"Alright... Final price, 375 essence stones," the clerk conceded.
Osric nodded, "Deal," he responded, his smile broadening in satisfaction.