ELDRITCH NIGHT (Rough Draft)

Chapter 22: Truth from Madness

I could feel the abilities I had sacrificed, not gone, but used as the core and scaffolding of this new crystal sphere. The sphere grew and contracted, always changing, for at its core was the mutability granted by Reactive Adaptability. I could feel the other skills as well: Eldritch Manipulation, Reactive Learning, Analyze, and finally Dark Companion. They were not gone, but nor could I directly access them.

They had been shattered, reconstructed, and cast into new forms. The crystal sphere that made up my class hummed with power and potential, it would strengthen and grow as I did. The skills and feats it contained, those not part of the class itself, swam loosely within the sphere. No longer were they so tightly bound as to be almost indistinguishable from one another. I could sense that if I continued to learn new skills I would eventually reach a limit, as my class could only contain so much. I was nowhere near this point, however. A problem for another day.

During the battle I had gained skill levels at an incredible rate, even picking up new ones. Something about mortal danger, or perhaps the saturation of energy in the air, caused skills to level in actual combat far easier than they did during training. My skill with a sword, pain resistance, arcane shield, physical fitness, dodge, and arcane missile had all leveled once during the battle. Even more impressive were the two new skills I had gained, shield defense and combat proficiency – each already at the third level.

These gains were paltry compared to the gains from my class, even if the FP did make me salivate slightly. The true gains came in the form of a new category – Class Features. In return for the three feats and two skills I had sacrificed I had received four new abilities in return, a net loss of one. After reading the class description, however, I realized that it really hadn't been a loss at all. Each class feature was far more powerful than what I had given up, the only thing I really mourned were the life saving abilities of Reactive Adaptability.

My Willpower and Perception had both been increased by five and would continue to increase by one per level. Almost as useful was the increase of five to all resistances, if it could save me injury in the future it was welcome.

I could still hear the battle raging around me. Categorizing my abilities would have to wait till my friends were safe. I was more powerful than before the battle but gaining a class had done nothing to heal my shattered ankle. Even my newly improved pain resistance wouldn't help, as the leg was completely unable to support my weight.

The first of my new class features gave me the solution to this problem, it couldn't heal the ankle, but it could bind it and reinforce it enough to function. I wouldn't be graceful, but I could walk. I glanced at the description one more time before deciding what to do.

Eldritch Mimicry (0/15) Ⓐ- The energy of the Old Ones is now yours to command, no longer does it struggle at your touch. It dances in delight as it bends to your whims, taking on any shape that you can imagine – but only for as long as you can hold a clear picture of that form in your mind. This ability can mimic weapons, armor, and even the spells and forms of your allies and enemies. Anything created by this method will be a shadowy illusion of the truth. These shadowy illusions are half as strong as the original (50%) plus an additional 2% per skill level.

It was what eldritch manipulation could have been if taken to its ultimate conclusion. Theoretically, it could copy anything even if the copy wasn't as strong as the original. I would need practice to fully bring this ability into my fighting style, but for now it was exactly what I needed to support my injured leg.

I found it difficult to create and focus on a unique design, so instead I conjured an image from my memory – a memory that was almost perfect due to my investments in intelligence. Thin streams of energy conjured around my foot and shins, quickly weaving around them to create the shadowy outline of a cast. In shape it was an exact replica of the plaster cast I had had as a child when I had broken my leg at summer camp, just a cast sized for an adult and made of shifting black threads of interwoven energy.