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This is a celestial grimoire story. Every 1,000 words, Almus(the mc) earns 100 points, and every 2,000 words, he gets offered a perk. He can either take the perk right away or bookmark it for later. Bookmarked perks give him a "second chance" to roll for them, but he can only roll for a bookmarked perk once a week.
And he can't refuse a free perk.
He doesn't have knowledge about everything that appears in the Grimoire either.
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"What the hell?!" I shouted, my voice echoing into nothingness. Why is it always this kind of shit in my dreams? But this time… it felt different. Too vivid. Too real.
I was falling. Just—falling. Spiraling down into an endless void of darkness so vast it felt like it could swallow me whole. My stomach churned, twisting and flipping, like it couldn't figure out if I was plummeting up, down, or sideways. The air around me wasn't cold or warm—it was alive. Electric. It hummed faintly, not a sound but a vibration that prickled my skin and seeped into my bones.
"Okay, okay, think!" I muttered, my voice barely audible over the rush of air—or whatever this was. "This has to be a dream, right? It's a dream. Just a dream. Right?!"
But nothing about this felt like a dream. The darkness around me wasn't just empty; it was moving. Pulsing. Streaks of violet, crimson, and molten gold shot through the black, twisting and writhing like living snakes of light. It was disturbingly beautiful—like something that shouldn't exist, and yet it was all I could see. I felt so small, so insignificant in its presence, like I was being watched by something far greater than me.
I reached out instinctively, my fingers clawing at the space around me, trying to grab onto anything solid. But the air felt slippery, almost liquid, sliding between my fingers. It was impossible to hold onto, and panic started bubbling in my chest.
"This isn't normal," I said, my voice cracking. "Dreams don't feel like this. I shouldn't be able to feel like this. My heartbeat, my skin… hell, even the air."
And then I realized there was a smell. Sharp and metallic, like ozone after a lightning strike, mixed with the sickly sweetness of burnt sugar. It clawed its way into my nose, making me gag, and I flailed harder, as if I could push the sensation away. My arms swung wildly, useless against the nothingness, but I couldn't stop myself.
The sound hit next—a low, deep hum that vibrated through the void. Through me. It wasn't just a noise; it felt alive, like it had a heartbeat of its own. The colors around me began to shift in time with it—brilliant emerald greens flaring like fire, flashes of silver that cut through the darkness. My head spun, overwhelmed by the chaotic beauty surrounding me, a hypnotic symphony of light and sound pulling me deeper into the void.
"No," I gasped, my voice raw and desperate. "This isn't how dreams work. I should wake up! Pinch yourself, wake up, right? That's how it works!"
I pinched my arm so hard my nails dug into the skin, the pain sharp and real. But instead of waking me, the world around me sharpened. The colors grew brighter, the hum louder, and the sensation of falling became something else entirely. I wasn't just falling anymore—I was suspended. Floating. Drifting into the madness around me.
My breaths came faster, shallow and sharp, each one echoing in the nothingness. "Okay, come on. Wake up. Wake up! Wake up!" I shouted into the void, my voice cracking. But the void didn't care. It just held me there, cradling me in its strange, kaleidoscopic embrace, like it was waiting for something.
And then I saw it. A light. Tiny, distant, but impossibly bright. It flickered like a star in the distance, calling out to me. A part of me wanted to reach for it, and another part whispered: Don't. But I couldn't stop myself. Despite every nerve in my body screaming to turn back, I rushed toward it.
I didn't hesitate. I dove toward the light, my hand outstretched. In one motion, I plunged forward and grabbed it with both hands.
The moment I touched it, my body erupted in pain. Agony, pure and sharp, tore through me like molten fire running through my veins. It didn't burn my skin—it burrowed deep inside, clawing at my nerves, ripping through every part of me. My muscles seized, locking tight as I convulsed. I tried to scream, but the sound caught in my throat, strangled by the sheer intensity of it all.
Then the whispers started. A thousand voices, soft and cold, slithered into my ears. They spoke in a language I didn't understand, each word like a dagger slicing into my brain. The voices layered on top of each other, growing louder and louder until they drowned out everything else—even my own panicked breaths.
My vision shattered. Colors exploded before my eyes, violent and overwhelming—swirling purples, searing reds, blinding golds. Shapes flickered in and out, faces forming and dissolving in an instant, staring at me with glowing, ember-like eyes. The world around me twisted and folded, collapsing in on itself like a crumpled sheet of paper.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was drowning in the storm of light and sound, my body writhing as the energy tore through me. It felt like I was being ripped apart and put back together at the same time. And yet, through the unbearable pain, I refused to let go.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed, over and over, until my throat was raw. And then I felt it—something creeping in from the edges of the chaos. Darkness. It curled around me like a blanket, pulling me into its grasp.
The whispers faded. The colors dimmed. My body went limp as the blackness consumed me, and a single word echoed in my mind.
Sleep.
[CP: 100]
Then I woke up, and—shit—where the fuck was I? This didn't look like anywhere I'd ever been. It was like some old-ass European town, maybe France or something? I've never been there, but I've seen enough pictures on vacation ads to know it's got that vibe. The buildings had that whole medieval look going on—brick, wood, stacked too close together, like they were trying to hold each other up.
First that goddamn dream, now I wake up in some back-alley foreign movie set? Seriously, what the hell is going on? It's not quiet, either—I can hear people, distant conversations, the sound of carts, maybe? But this alley I'm in? Dead empty. Not a soul in sight, just me and the smell of… I don't even know. It's like wet stone and something burning, but faint.
And the weirdest part? I don't feel like I'm in America anymore. Yeah, I think I'm not in Kansas anymore. Hell, this isn't even New York. It's all too cramped, too… old. Like stepping into a goddamn painting or one of those fantasy movies they show on cable late at night.
I rubbed my eyes, but nope—still here. Still trapped in this strange, foreign city with no idea what the hell is going on.
I stood up, groggy as hell. My whole body felt stiff—guess sleeping on pavement'll do that to you. If I even slept on it. Honestly, I couldn't tell anymore.
So, let's recap: I just had the weirdest fucking dream of my life, and now I'm here, in… whatever this shithole is supposed to be.
Instinctively, I patted my pockets. "Ah, fuck!" I hissed through my teeth. Of course, I was still in pajamas. And you know what that means? No phone. No wallet. No nothing.
"Great. Freaking great," I muttered under my breath, half-laughing at the absurdity of it all. Just me, stranded in this medieval-looking dump with no clue what the hell's going on. Perfect.
"Guess I'll just have to find someone who lives here and pray to god—or whoever's up there—they speak English," I muttered, trudging toward the noises like some half-dead zombie.
The closer I got, the louder it became—voices, chattering, laughing. Normal enough, right? I turned the corner, and bam, there they were: a group of teenagers. At least, I think they were teenagers. They had that shitty, too-cool-for-you posture, and one of them was doing that obnoxious laugh you only hear from kids trying to show off.
But then I actually looked at them. And holy shit, I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.
One of them—this tall, lanky guy—had ears that went on for miles, like actual goddamn knife ears. They twitched, too, like they had a life of their own. The other one? Yeah, he was short, but not normal short—like, "someone left him in the dryer too long" short. And his face was… weirdly round? Stocky, squat, looked kind of like one of those garden gnomes but with a lot more attitude.
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at them like an idiot. "What. The. Fuck," I muttered under my breath. Was this still the dream? Did I finally lose my goddamn mind?
They noticed me, of course. Knife-Ears gave me a once-over, smirking like I was the crazy one here. The gnome kid? He narrowed his beady little eyes, like I was about to rob him or something. "You lost or something?" Knife-Ears asked, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Oh, fantastic," I muttered to myself, throwing my hands up. "First the dream, now I'm in a medieval fever dream with Tinkerbell and his garden gnome buddy."
Their smirks dropped instantly, and Gnome Guy stepped forward, his stubby little hands curling into fists. "You wanna say that again, asshole?"
Yeah, this was going great, kudos Almus, you're fucking great with people as always !
"Okay, okay, sorry for what I said," I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender to the little gnome-looking guy. "I'm a bit lost, you see, so could you maybe please tell me where the hell I am?"
He didn't budge. Instead, he stormed right up to me, glaring like he was ready to throw hands. "I don't think I'm gonna do that, asshole!" he snapped. "You think you can call me a gnome and just get away with it?"
I blinked, genuinely confused. "Uh… isn't that what you are?"
His face twisted into something between outrage and disbelief. "I'm a Pallum, you piece of shit!"
I cocked my head, trying to make sense of it. "Pallum? Is that, like… an illness or something? Never heard of it. Tough break though. Good luck in life, buddy."
That was it. His eyes went wide, and I swear I saw steam coming out of his ears. Before I could even react, he rushed me like a goddamn bull. He jumped, and the next thing I knew, bam! Pain shot through my jaw as my head snapped back.
Did this little shit just uppercut me? "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I stumbled back, clutching my face.
"Wait, wait! I seriously don't know what the hell a Pallum is!" I shouted, trying to defend myself.
"You fucking racist liar!" he yelled back, his voice sharp and angry. "Everybody knows what that is!"
Before I could get another word out, he lunged again, slamming his stubby leg right into my shin. "Ah, fuck!" I yelped, stumbling back a step.
Instinct kicked in, and I lashed out with my foot, catching him in the ribs. He let out a grunt and stumbled back, clutching his side, but the fury in his eyes didn't go anywhere. Oh no, this little dude wasn't done with me yet.
"I'm really sorry—like, truly!" I tried to say, but before I could even finish, I felt something slam into my back. My face hit the ground, hard.
"What the—?!" I spat dirt, twisting to see who'd sucker-punched me. That's when I heard it—a smooth, annoyingly melodic voice. "Rodo, I'll help you with this one. I can't stand racist humans like him," Legolas-wannabe said with all the smugness of a guy who's never been punched in the face before.
He'd kicked me, the bastard, and was already closing in for another shot.
"Wait, no! I really didn't know!" I roared, but they weren't listening. The two of them—Knife-Ears and the gnome, Rodo—started laying into me with kicks and punches, not giving me a second to breathe.
Something inside me snapped. I've been in enough fistfights to know one thing: if you don't fight back, you're screwed.
I rolled to the side, avoiding another kick from Rodo, and grabbed his stubby leg. He yelped as I yanked it hard, sending him crashing to the ground. Before he could react, I drove my fist into his stomach—not full force, but enough to knock the air out of him. He doubled over, gasping, and for a second, I thought I'd bought myself some breathing room.
Wrong.
Knife-Ears was on me in a flash, his boot aimed straight for my ribs. I twisted just enough to take the hit on my shoulder, gritting my teeth as the impact sent a jolt of pain through my arm. With his leg still raised, I lunged forward and tackled him, driving him backward into the wall.
"You're not so fucking untouchable now, huh?" I snarled, slamming my elbow into his chest.
But this guy wasn't just some punk. His knee shot up, catching me in the side, and I stumbled, giving him enough room to shove me off. "Rodo, get up!" he shouted, already lunging at me again.
"Great," I muttered, shaking the pain from my arm. "Double trouble."
As they came at me, something strange happened. A voice—or maybe a thought—sliced into my head, calm and detached:
[GP: 200]
[Warhammer Fantasy: Warriors of Chaos]
[Mark of Tzeentch: Free]
[Tzeentch's mark enhances your intellect to extraordinary levels, making complex mental tasks effortless and granting you the ability to easily translate new languages. You can also wield the Winds of Magic with skill, possessing the talents of a capable sorcerer.]
"What the actual hell?" I muttered, dodging another swing from Rodo. Was I hallucinating now? Voices in my head while getting my ass kicked? Fantastic.
But something was different. I could feel it. My thoughts were sharper, clearer. Every move they made seemed slower, more predictable.
Maybe I wasn't as screwed as I thought.
I looked at the elf wannabe, watching him wind up for a punch. But then something weird happened. For a split second, it was like I could see it coming before it even happened—a faint, translucent image of his fist flying toward me. It was like a preview, a heads-up from… I don't even know what.
I ducked out of the way just as the real punch followed, landing exactly where I'd been a moment ago. "Hah," I barked, grinning as I swung back. My fist caught him across the jaw, and he stumbled a step, eyes wide with surprise. "Didn't see that one coming, did you, Legolas?"
But before I could gloat too much, something slammed into my side—Rodo, the little tank of a gnome, charging me like a linebacker. The air shot out of my lungs as I hit the wall behind me. "Son of a—!" I managed before his stubby fists started pummeling my ribs.
I gritted my teeth, instincts kicking in. The weird prediction thing flickered again, just in time to show me his next punch aimed at my stomach. I twisted, taking the hit on my side instead. Still hurt like hell, but at least I stayed on my feet.
"Alright, you little shit," I growled, shoving him back and driving my knee into his gut. He wheezed, folding over, but I barely had time to enjoy it before Knife-Ears was on me again. His fist clipped my cheek, sending stars across my vision.
"Shit!" I spat, staggering but staying upright. My head was spinning, but that damn translucent image flashed again, showing me another punch coming for my temple. I ducked, but not fast enough—his knuckles grazed me, making my ears ring.
"Lucky shot!" I snarled, swinging low. My fist connected with his stomach, and he doubled over, gasping. I followed up with an elbow to his back, sending him to the ground.
Rodo came at me again, but this time, I was ready. I sidestepped his charge—thanks to another flicker of that prediction thing—and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, cursing and flailing.
Breathing heavy, I stood over both of them, fists clenched. "You two done, or do I have to keep kicking your asses?"
Knife-Ears groaned, clutching his side, while Rodo just glared at me, clearly debating whether to try again. "Yeah, that's what I thought," I muttered, wiping blood from the corner of my mouth. My body ached, my face stung, and I knew I'd be covered in bruises tomorrow, but I'd won. Somehow.
Whatever the hell this new predictive thing was, I wasn't complaining. It wasn't perfect, but it had just saved my ass.
I got the hell out of there. No way I was sticking around to see if they had any backup or friends lurking nearby. The smartest thing I could do right now was run, put some distance between us, and hope I could find someone who actually knew where the hell I was.
Now that my head was clearing a bit, I looked around properly—and yeah, I was definitely lost. This wasn't Earth. Or at least, not the version of Earth I knew. Elves and "Pallums," or whatever the hell they were, weren't real back home. Wherever I was, it wasn't anything close to normal.
The more I looked around, the more I realized something was off. This place wasn't like anything I'd seen in pictures or even movies. It was all wrong. Did that weird dream somehow throw me into another world? Or was I stuck in some kind of nightmare I couldn't wake up from?
I'd heard of vivid dreams before, sure, but this? This was way beyond anything normal. So, yeah, the whole "I'm just dreaming" theory? I could toss that right out the window. This felt too real to be a dream.
[CP: 300]
There it was again—that sound, like a counter ticking up. But a counter for what, exactly? I remembered the Mark of Tzeentch was free, so maybe other things like that would cost me these points? I couldn't be sure, but whatever this system was, I figured time would tell.
After wandering through the labyrinth of this city for what felt like forever, I finally came across three people. They looked human—at least as human as I was expecting—but they were dressed as poorly as the two idiots I'd just fought earlier. From the way the streets twisted and turned, I figured I'd have to pass them if I wanted to get out of this part of town.
"Hey, old man!" one of them called out as I got closer. He had to be talking to me—I was the only other person in this grimy alley. "Give us everything you've got."
I glanced down at my tattered pajamas and raised an eyebrow. "You see me dressed like this, and you assume I've got much of anything on me? Really?" I muttered, brushing a hand over the still-aching face. "Look, kid, let me through. I don't want any trouble with you."
The apparent leader of the trio smirked, stepping forward. "Old man, this is Daedalus. Nobody leaves without handing over what they've got."
"Oh, for god's sake," I muttered, exasperated. "Listen here, I'm not in the mood to play this little game. Here's how it works: Option one—you step aside, and I walk through peacefully. Option two—I put you all on the ground and walk past anyway. Your call."
The leader sneered, cracking his knuckles. "I think I'll take option three—where I take everything off you, old man."
I sighed, already tired of this nonsense. But then, something clicked. My brain suddenly sped up, like it was working in overdrive. In a split second, I took in everything—the way the leader was shifting his weight to his right foot, his buddy on the left with a hidden knife, the third guy lingering back with nervous energy, unsure of what to do.
The leader's stance told me he was going to throw the first punch, likely a haymaker—amateur move. The guy with the knife was waiting for me to be distracted, and the last guy? He was just a liability. My thoughts raced, breaking everything down into pieces, a plan forming faster than I could process.
The leader swung, just as I expected, and I stepped to the side, his fist cutting through the air where my head had been. Before he could recover, I drove my elbow into his ribs, hard enough to make him gasp and stumble back.
Knife Guy saw his moment and lunged, but I was already moving. I grabbed his wrist mid-swing, twisting it until he dropped the blade with a yelp. "Nice try, buddy," I said, shoving him into the wall.
The third guy froze, his eyes darting between me and his two friends. "You really wanna do this?" I asked, cracking my knuckles. He didn't. He bolted down the alley without a word, leaving his buddies behind.
I dusted myself off and stepped over the leader, who was still wheezing on the ground. "Told you there were two options," I muttered, shaking my head as I walked past.
After winding through a few more alleys, I finally found my way out of this so-called "Daedalus." And holy shit, if I had any doubts before, they were gone now. This was definitely another world.
Right in front of me was a massive tower, towering high above the city like something straight out of a fantasy game. The streets were bustling with people, but they weren't all… human. There were all kinds of species walking around—some with more ears, others with pointed ears, and a few with hair colors that screamed anime protagonist. The outfits were just as wild, everything from medieval armor to flowing robes to clothes that looked like they were stitched together yesterday.
I couldn't help but stare as I tried to take it all in. A few people shot me weird glances, probably because I was standing there slack-jawed in torn pajamas, but they didn't linger. They just kept walking, going about their business like I was just another weirdo on the street.
"Yep," I muttered to myself, "definitely not Kansas anymore."
Right now, I needed a roof over my head for the night. No money, no clue where I was, and absolutely no way in hell was I about to start begging strangers to let me crash in their house. That wasn't happening.
I needed a quick source of income—something to scrape together enough to book a hostel or whatever the equivalent was in this place. On the plus side, I could actually understand the people here, which was already weird enough. That damn Mark of Tzeentch… was that what was making all this happen? Did it make me some kind of "chosen one" destined for some epic world-saving quest? And what or who the fuck was Tzeentch ? Some kind of benevolent god ?
Bah, screw that. Even if I was, I wasn't interested. Too much hassle, and honestly, saving the world sounds like a huge pain in the ass. Maybe I'd consider it if the apocalypse came knocking on my door and personally threatened my existence, but until then? No thanks.
Not that I have much of a life to protect right now anyway. And, really, what were the chances of an apocalypse showing up?
'Alright,' I muttered to myself, shaking my head. 'First things first. Figure out where I am and how to make money. Fast.' Maybe there was a library or something similar around here—somewhere I could learn the lay of the land and figure out what jobs exist in this world. Hell, maybe even a homeless shelter, though I doubted it. And even if there was one, would they ask for ID? Probably. And considering I didn't have a single shred of identification on me, that'd be a problem.
'Great. Just great,' I muttered to myself, glancing around the crowded streets. 'Let's get moving. Maybe I'll stumble into something useful.'
[CP: 400]
The tick sounded again, sharp and clear in my head. But this time, something else followed it.
[Warhammer Fantasy: Imperial Colleges of Magic]
[Lore of Ulgu: Free]
[The Lore of Ulgu grants you mastery over the Wind of Shadows, the magic of deception, illusion, and concealment. As a trained Magister of the Imperial Colleges of Magic, you can wield the Wind of Ulgu with precision and skill, casting spells that obscure, misdirect, and manipulate the senses of others. Your sensitivity to this Wind allows you to weave powerful illusions and vanish from sight, making you a formidable practitioner of shadow magic.]
'What the actual fuck?' I muttered, freezing in the middle of the street. My mind suddenly flooded with knowledge—detailed, crystal-clear instructions on how to use magic. Not just any magic, either, but illusion magic. I could actually feel it, like the energy was right there, waiting for me to reach out and grab it.
How was this possible? How could all this information dump into my brain without so much as a headache? Then it hit me—the Mark of Tzeentch. That thing had to be why this felt so smooth, like it was all second nature. But seriously, this was the second time I'd gotten something from Warhammer. Wasn't that, like, a universe with knights and monsters or something? Or was it the one with space wizards? Damn it, I knew I should've watched more shows or played some games when I had the chance.
'Of course,"' I muttered, rubbing my temples. 'If someone told me ten years ago I'd be thrown into another world and get frickin' magic powers, I would've laughed my ass off. And now look at me. Shadow magic. In a fantasy city. In my pajamas.'
I sighed and shook my head, then started walking toward the biggest building I could see. Maybe someone there could point me to a library or something.
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Well that'll be all for the first chapter of this fic, I wanted to have a bit of fun writing it for the giggles after I read something similar to it and frankly, I found it freaking awesome so I wanted to have my try at writing something like that.
Hope you liked the first chapter. Funny enough, the first reward made me question the future sanity of my MC and the second made me giggle a bit, what are the probabilities that I draw two Warhammer rewards and both for free ? Not much and I don't have the strength to count it.
The MC was a fun to write too, his personality will change, think of him as someone a bit lost.
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