Chapter 27: Old Bones, New Treasure
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Chapter 27: Old Bones, New Treasure
Tyron started awake and found the indistinct outline of Aryll standing over him.
"Come on rodent, you're on watch."
He blinked a few times as his thought slowly caught up with the situation. Right, he was on watch tonight so the others could rest. He nodded in the dark and the scout patted him the shoulder before she moved away to find her own bedroll. He shook his head a little as he sat up, trying to clear the fog in his head before he pulled himself out of his blankets and threw his cloak over his shoulders before he strapped his sword back onto his waist. It wouldn't be much use in his hands against an actual monster, but it was better than nothing and gave him a slight sense of security.
With the fire still crackling, he walked to the edge of the light and found a stump he could comfortably park himself on as Aryll nestled down into her roll behind him. The three slayers had been pushing themselves hard over the past few days and even with their superhuman endurance, they needed rest. If they were tired, Tyron was exhausted. Without his unusually high constitution for a person of his level, he would have likely passed out ages ago and forced the others into pulling back.
This level of fatigue was still something he could deal with, so he sat and wrapped his cloak around himself as he tried to keep watch for anything that might want to kill them. They'd pulled a long way back from the rifts before making this camp, in truth they were no longer within the broken lands at all, which gave him some sense of security. Even so, he'd been able to find rift-kin kilometres away from here, on the other side of Woodsedge, so there was bound to be many crawling through the area. He just had to hope they wouldn’t find him before he could alert the others.
The light of moon broke through the foliage above in patches, creating a shifting pattern of pale silver on the ground that revealed the bark, leaves and rotting vegetation of the forest floor in fleeting glimpses. Though he had the Night Owl feat, which helped him stay alert during the night, he had nothing to provide more vision in the dark, which meant the shadows were almost impenetrable to him as he tried to stay alert.
All in all it was an unnerving experience and his pitiful collection of skills and spells didn't feel nearly as praiseworthy when he had nothing but himself to rely on.
Everything would be different if he had minions. He'd be able to fight, he'd have extra eyes to look out, he'd be able to safely, or at least more safely move through these woods to find the resources he needed. He glanced behind him to see Aryll was ensconced in her bedroll, hopefully already asleep before he pulled his map out of his cloak.
"Light," he whispered.
He barely charged the spell, providing only enough energy to produce the faintest of lights, so weak he could barely see the ink on the paper despite holding the globe a scant few centimetres away. Seven locations were now marked on the paper, ranging over the west and east sides of the rift. Finding remains had not been nearly as difficult as he'd feared, just by sweeping his eyes over the ground as they'd travelled he'd turned up more than enough bones he could return for.
This was what he'd been aiming for all along, a source of materials that nobody would miss, or even realise were gone. It was the only way he could practice his craft and improve his status without anyone realising what had taken place, which was the only way he could keep himself safe. What he hadn't expected was for there to be so many dead out here. Hakoth hadn't exaggerated when he'd talked about how many died out here in the broken lands.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.
He didn't know if the bulk of the bones he'd seen belonged to slayers or rats, he supposed it didn't matter. Once the patrol was completed he'd return to town and then have to find a way to get back out here safely to retrieve the remains he needed. The first would be the hardest, he'd be completely on his own after all, but once he had a single minion it would be easier to get the second, then the third. He estimated he probably couldn't support more than three right now, which might change when he reached Necromancer level five and achieved his first class feat.
Something shifted in the dark and Tyron's breath caught in his throat as he froze, only thinking to extinguish his light a moment later. With the globe gone the only source of light became the fire behind his back and the moon high overhead. He readied a magick bolt and pushed a hand out, palm at the ready should anything emerge from the darkness.
For a few tense moments he waited, his eyes darting from side to side but gradually, when no threat manifested itself, he relaxed his stance and lowered his hand. He waited a minute longer before he summoned the light again, a little brighter than the last time, and peered out into the shadows cast by the trees and fallen branches across the forest floor. With the globe hovering above his open palm, he swept his hand out, hoping to catch a glimpse of any rift-kin but met only disappointment when he saw nothing moving.
Then he caught a glimpse of a jagged edge, peeking out from under a log only a few paces away from where he stood.
Tyron immediately felt a slight tingle crawl over his scalp before he turned to check on his three companions, rolled in their blankets behind him. To all appearances, they were sound asleep, though he moved closer to be sure before he returned and approached the log, stepping carefully to minimise any noise. As he drew nearer, he saw that he had in fact been correct in his earlier assessment, that broken edge that emerged from beneath the rotting wood was in fact, a bone. What's more, a human bone, possibly a shin bone, though he was still no expert when it came to a human skeleton.
He would need to be an expert, he reflected to himself. A more thorough understanding of bones and how they were put together would be important information. He wouldn't always have access to human remains that were laid out neatly in a grave, in fact he'd basically given up on gaining access to exactly those burials when he'd decided to avoid cemeteries. No, he'd be piecing together his minions the hard way from this point forward.
After ten minutes he finally saw a reward. An infinitesimal amount of his magick began to seep into the calcified bone, like water soaking into a rock. His eyes widened with excitement and he leaned forward, even if the process was invisible, only to frown again a few seconds later as something pushed back against the energy he provided. There was already magick inside the bones, only a bare trace of it, but it was potent. What's more, there was a strange feel to it, as if it were, dark, or hungry, tainted in some way.
Is this death magick?
A rush of air and a snap just behind his head broke his concentration and brought him back to the present.
"Shit," he cursed as he sprang to his feet and flared the light in his hand.
A small monster, no larger than knee high was revealed, a bizarre creature of legs with too many joints and overlapping chitin plates. He concentrated, using his mind and simple gestures to shape the basic magick bolt before his thrust the palm of his open hand forward. The spell darted through the air before it struck the rift-kin in the side, tearing a shallow gash through its shell and sending the creature tumbling to the side.
Eager to follow up, Tyron stepped forward to keep the monster in his sight, another bolt prepared and ready to fling a few seconds later, but his attacker was swift and righted itself in moments, darting into the foliage and out of view. He cursed softly as his eyes darted across the brush and the pounding of his heart filled his ears. Faint rustling sounds could be heard in the darkness as the rift-kin skittered through the fallen leaves and branches but he couldn't see a thing, even when he held the light above his head and flared it bright.
He took slow, measured steps back toward the fire. If he couldn't deal with the creature himself then he'd best wake the slayers. Such a weak creature might be a challenge for him, but it was trivial in their eyes. He planned to move slowly, so he could shake one of them awake. If he were to shout, during the night, who knows what he might call down on their heads? Best to be safe.
Not for the first time he wished he had his minions. Perhaps he'd become too accustomed to his class in such a short time, but he didn't feel safe fighting without a skeleton to protect him, not to mention he wouldn't advance his level without one, no matter how much fighting he did. A faint noise to his left drew his attention and he turned, his light covered palm forward as his breath caught in his throat.
There was nothing.
This stupid critter was playing him like a fiddle! He grit his teeth and took another cautious step backward toward the low burning fire behind him. A few more and Monica would be within his reach. Then he had a thought. Perhaps there was a way for him to win. He hadn't tried the new spell he'd earned from the Anathema class, he hadn't even studied it due to his vague distaste for the premise of it, but it might prove to be just what he needed in this situation. He might not be able to see the rift-kin, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to strike at its mind.
He reached internally for the fragments of knowledge he'd been granted and began to pull them together into a coherent framework. Compared to Pierce the Veil or even Raise Dead, this spell was child's play, but even so it was risky to attempt a spell for the first time in a combat situation. He could still reach behind him and awaken a slayer, leave the situation in their hands, but somehow he didn't want to. If he could deal with it himself, then he could return to his study of the bones for the rest of his watch.
He stared out into the forest as he worked to arrange his thoughts on Supress Mind. After a few long seconds he felt he was ready to make an attempt. It wasn't a long cast, but the spellwork was intricate, forming a conduit between himself and the target creature through which the spell would attack their consciousness directly.
He held the light high and used his free hand to form the gestures he needed as he whispered the vocal component and directed his magick with his thoughts. Once completed, he held the spell at the ready, hoping that it would work as he hoped.
That sound again, from the right this time. He spun quickly to see the monster rushing at him from under the brush just before it leapt at him. He threw himself forwards, turned to his left and flung the readied spell at the monster. Immediately he felt it connect and something strange happened.
The spell encountered the crude awareness of the monster and a war began as it tried to fight back and he fought to press the spell down and crush the monster's thoughts. The physical form of the rift-kin thrashed and writhed as he drove the spell home before he finally felt its resistance break and the monster grew still.
Tyron's mouth twisted with distaste. The sensation of breaking the creature's mind with his own wasn't pleasant, but for now it was unable to move or resist in any way. He drew his sword slowly and stepped forward, ending the monster's life with a quick thrust through the head.
He breathed out heavily. Only a small, weak creature, and it had given him this much trouble. He needed minions, higher quality ones, urgently. He checked the fire to see the three slumbering forms hadn't moved since the fight had started. Letting out a small sigh, he walked to his pack and quietly pulled out his butchering knives. He might as well see if this thing had a core.
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Chapter 27: Old Bones, New Treasure
Tyron started awake and found the indistinct outline of Aryll standing over him.
"Come on rodent, you're on watch."
He blinked a few times as his thought slowly caught up with the situation. Right, he was on watch tonight so the others could rest. He nodded in the dark and the scout patted him the shoulder before she moved away to find her own bedroll. He shook his head a little as he sat up, trying to clear the fog in his head before he pulled himself out of his blankets and threw his cloak over his shoulders before he strapped his sword back onto his waist. It wouldn't be much use in his hands against an actual monster, but it was better than nothing and gave him a slight sense of security.
With the fire still crackling, he walked to the edge of the light and found a stump he could comfortably park himself on as Aryll nestled down into her roll behind him. The three slayers had been pushing themselves hard over the past few days and even with their superhuman endurance, they needed rest. If they were tired, Tyron was exhausted. Without his unusually high constitution for a person of his level, he would have likely passed out ages ago and forced the others into pulling back.
This level of fatigue was still something he could deal with, so he sat and wrapped his cloak around himself as he tried to keep watch for anything that might want to kill them. They'd pulled a long way back from the rifts before making this camp, in truth they were no longer within the broken lands at all, which gave him some sense of security. Even so, he'd been able to find rift-kin kilometres away from here, on the other side of Woodsedge, so there was bound to be many crawling through the area. He just had to hope they wouldn’t find him before he could alert the others.
The light of moon broke through the foliage above in patches, creating a shifting pattern of pale silver on the ground that revealed the bark, leaves and rotting vegetation of the forest floor in fleeting glimpses. Though he had the Night Owl feat, which helped him stay alert during the night, he had nothing to provide more vision in the dark, which meant the shadows were almost impenetrable to him as he tried to stay alert.
All in all it was an unnerving experience and his pitiful collection of skills and spells didn't feel nearly as praiseworthy when he had nothing but himself to rely on.
Everything would be different if he had minions. He'd be able to fight, he'd have extra eyes to look out, he'd be able to safely, or at least more safely move through these woods to find the resources he needed. He glanced behind him to see Aryll was ensconced in her bedroll, hopefully already asleep before he pulled his map out of his cloak.
"Light," he whispered.
He barely charged the spell, providing only enough energy to produce the faintest of lights, so weak he could barely see the ink on the paper despite holding the globe a scant few centimetres away. Seven locations were now marked on the paper, ranging over the west and east sides of the rift. Finding remains had not been nearly as difficult as he'd feared, just by sweeping his eyes over the ground as they'd travelled he'd turned up more than enough bones he could return for.
This was what he'd been aiming for all along, a source of materials that nobody would miss, or even realise were gone. It was the only way he could practice his craft and improve his status without anyone realising what had taken place, which was the only way he could keep himself safe. What he hadn't expected was for there to be so many dead out here. Hakoth hadn't exaggerated when he'd talked about how many died out here in the broken lands.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.
He didn't know if the bulk of the bones he'd seen belonged to slayers or rats, he supposed it didn't matter. Once the patrol was completed he'd return to town and then have to find a way to get back out here safely to retrieve the remains he needed. The first would be the hardest, he'd be completely on his own after all, but once he had a single minion it would be easier to get the second, then the third. He estimated he probably couldn't support more than three right now, which might change when he reached Necromancer level five and achieved his first class feat.
Something shifted in the dark and Tyron's breath caught in his throat as he froze, only thinking to extinguish his light a moment later. With the globe gone the only source of light became the fire behind his back and the moon high overhead. He readied a magick bolt and pushed a hand out, palm at the ready should anything emerge from the darkness.
For a few tense moments he waited, his eyes darting from side to side but gradually, when no threat manifested itself, he relaxed his stance and lowered his hand. He waited a minute longer before he summoned the light again, a little brighter than the last time, and peered out into the shadows cast by the trees and fallen branches across the forest floor. With the globe hovering above his open palm, he swept his hand out, hoping to catch a glimpse of any rift-kin but met only disappointment when he saw nothing moving.
Then he caught a glimpse of a jagged edge, peeking out from under a log only a few paces away from where he stood.
Tyron immediately felt a slight tingle crawl over his scalp before he turned to check on his three companions, rolled in their blankets behind him. To all appearances, they were sound asleep, though he moved closer to be sure before he returned and approached the log, stepping carefully to minimise any noise. As he drew nearer, he saw that he had in fact been correct in his earlier assessment, that broken edge that emerged from beneath the rotting wood was in fact, a bone. What's more, a human bone, possibly a shin bone, though he was still no expert when it came to a human skeleton.
He would need to be an expert, he reflected to himself. A more thorough understanding of bones and how they were put together would be important information. He wouldn't always have access to human remains that were laid out neatly in a grave, in fact he'd basically given up on gaining access to exactly those burials when he'd decided to avoid cemeteries. No, he'd be piecing together his minions the hard way from this point forward.
After ten minutes he finally saw a reward. An infinitesimal amount of his magick began to seep into the calcified bone, like water soaking into a rock. His eyes widened with excitement and he leaned forward, even if the process was invisible, only to frown again a few seconds later as something pushed back against the energy he provided. There was already magick inside the bones, only a bare trace of it, but it was potent. What's more, there was a strange feel to it, as if it were, dark, or hungry, tainted in some way.
Is this death magick?
A rush of air and a snap just behind his head broke his concentration and brought him back to the present.
"Shit," he cursed as he sprang to his feet and flared the light in his hand.
A small monster, no larger than knee high was revealed, a bizarre creature of legs with too many joints and overlapping chitin plates. He concentrated, using his mind and simple gestures to shape the basic magick bolt before his thrust the palm of his open hand forward. The spell darted through the air before it struck the rift-kin in the side, tearing a shallow gash through its shell and sending the creature tumbling to the side.
Eager to follow up, Tyron stepped forward to keep the monster in his sight, another bolt prepared and ready to fling a few seconds later, but his attacker was swift and righted itself in moments, darting into the foliage and out of view. He cursed softly as his eyes darted across the brush and the pounding of his heart filled his ears. Faint rustling sounds could be heard in the darkness as the rift-kin skittered through the fallen leaves and branches but he couldn't see a thing, even when he held the light above his head and flared it bright.
He took slow, measured steps back toward the fire. If he couldn't deal with the creature himself then he'd best wake the slayers. Such a weak creature might be a challenge for him, but it was trivial in their eyes. He planned to move slowly, so he could shake one of them awake. If he were to shout, during the night, who knows what he might call down on their heads? Best to be safe.
Not for the first time he wished he had his minions. Perhaps he'd become too accustomed to his class in such a short time, but he didn't feel safe fighting without a skeleton to protect him, not to mention he wouldn't advance his level without one, no matter how much fighting he did. A faint noise to his left drew his attention and he turned, his light covered palm forward as his breath caught in his throat.
There was nothing.
This stupid critter was playing him like a fiddle! He grit his teeth and took another cautious step backward toward the low burning fire behind him. A few more and Monica would be within his reach. Then he had a thought. Perhaps there was a way for him to win. He hadn't tried the new spell he'd earned from the Anathema class, he hadn't even studied it due to his vague distaste for the premise of it, but it might prove to be just what he needed in this situation. He might not be able to see the rift-kin, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to strike at its mind.
He reached internally for the fragments of knowledge he'd been granted and began to pull them together into a coherent framework. Compared to Pierce the Veil or even Raise Dead, this spell was child's play, but even so it was risky to attempt a spell for the first time in a combat situation. He could still reach behind him and awaken a slayer, leave the situation in their hands, but somehow he didn't want to. If he could deal with it himself, then he could return to his study of the bones for the rest of his watch.
He stared out into the forest as he worked to arrange his thoughts on Supress Mind. After a few long seconds he felt he was ready to make an attempt. It wasn't a long cast, but the spellwork was intricate, forming a conduit between himself and the target creature through which the spell would attack their consciousness directly.
He held the light high and used his free hand to form the gestures he needed as he whispered the vocal component and directed his magick with his thoughts. Once completed, he held the spell at the ready, hoping that it would work as he hoped.
That sound again, from the right this time. He spun quickly to see the monster rushing at him from under the brush just before it leapt at him. He threw himself forwards, turned to his left and flung the readied spell at the monster. Immediately he felt it connect and something strange happened.
The spell encountered the crude awareness of the monster and a war began as it tried to fight back and he fought to press the spell down and crush the monster's thoughts. The physical form of the rift-kin thrashed and writhed as he drove the spell home before he finally felt its resistance break and the monster grew still.
Tyron's mouth twisted with distaste. The sensation of breaking the creature's mind with his own wasn't pleasant, but for now it was unable to move or resist in any way. He drew his sword slowly and stepped forward, ending the monster's life with a quick thrust through the head.
He breathed out heavily. Only a small, weak creature, and it had given him this much trouble. He needed minions, higher quality ones, urgently. He checked the fire to see the three slumbering forms hadn't moved since the fight had started. Letting out a small sigh, he walked to his pack and quietly pulled out his butchering knives. He might as well see if this thing had a core.
Chapter 27: Old Bones, New TreasureTyron started awake and found the indistinct outline of Aryll standing over him."Come on rodent, you're on watch."He blinked a few times as his thought slowly caught up with the situation. Right, he was on watch tonight so the others could rest. He nodded in the dark and the scout patted him the shoulder before she moved away to find her own bedroll. He shook his head a little as he sat up, trying to clear the fog in his head before he pulled himself out of his blankets and threw his cloak over his shoulders before he strapped his sword back onto his waist. It wouldn't be much use in his hands against an actual monster, but it was better than nothing and gave him a slight sense of security.With the fire still crackling, he walked to the edge of the light and found a stump he could comfortably park himself on as Aryll nestled down into her roll behind him. The three slayers had been pushing themselves hard over the past few days and even with their superhuman endurance, they needed rest. If they were tired, Tyron was exhausted. Without his unusually high constitution for a person of his level, he would have likely passed out ages ago and forced the others into pulling back.This level of fatigue was still something he could deal with, so he sat and wrapped his cloak around himself as he tried to keep watch for anything that might want to kill them. They'd pulled a long way back from the rifts before making this camp, in truth they were no longer within the broken lands at all, which gave him some sense of security. Even so, he'd been able to find rift-kin kilometres away from here, on the other side of Woodsedge, so there was bound to be many crawling through the area. He just had to hope they wouldn't find him before he could alert the others.The light of moon broke through the foliage above in patches, creating a shifting pattern of pale silver on the ground that revealed the bark, leaves and rotting vegetation of the forest floor in fleeting glimpses. Though he had the Night Owl feat, which helped him stay alert during the night, he had nothing to provide more vision in the dark, which meant the shadows were almost impenetrable to him as he tried to stay alert.All in all it was an unnerving experience and his pitiful collection of skills and spells didn't feel nearly as praiseworthy when he had nothing but himself to rely on.Everything would be different if he had minions. He'd be able to fight, he'd have extra eyes to look out, he'd be able to safely, or at least more safely move through these woods to find the resources he needed. He glanced behind him to see Aryll was ensconced in her bedroll, hopefully already asleep before he pulled his map out of his cloak."Light," he whispered.He barely charged the spell, providing only enough energy to produce the faintest of lights, so weak he could barely see the ink on the paper despite holding the globe a scant few centimetres away. Seven locations were now marked on the paper, ranging over the west and east sides of the rift. Finding remains had not been nearly as difficult as he'd feared, just by sweeping his eyes over the ground as they'd travelled he'd turned up more than enough bones he could return for.This was what he'd been aiming for all along, a source of materials that nobody would miss, or even realise were gone. It was the only way he could practice his craft and improve his status without anyone realising what had taken place, which was the only way he could keep himself safe. What he hadn't expected was for there to be so many dead out here. Hakoth hadn't exaggerated when he'd talked about how many died out here in the broken lands.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.He didn't know if the bulk of the bones he'd seen belonged to slayers or rats, he supposed it didn't matter. Once the patrol was completed he'd return to town and then have to find a way to get back out here safely to retrieve the remains he needed. The first would be the hardest, he'd be completely on his own after all, but once he had a single minion it would be easier to get the second, then the third. He estimated he probably couldn't support more than three right now, which might change when he reached Necromancer level five and achieved his first class feat.Something shifted in the dark and Tyron's breath caught in his throat as he froze, only thinking to extinguish his light a moment later. With the globe gone the only source of light became the fire behind his back and the moon high overhead. He readied a magick bolt and pushed a hand out, palm at the ready should anything emerge from the darkness.For a few tense moments he waited, his eyes darting from side to side but gradually, when no threat manifested itself, he relaxed his stance and lowered his hand. He waited a minute longer before he summoned the light again, a little brighter than the last time, and peered out into the shadows cast by the trees and fallen branches across the forest floor. With the globe hovering above his open palm, he swept his hand out, hoping to catch a glimpse of any rift-kin but met only disappointment when he saw nothing moving.Then he caught a glimpse of a jagged edge, peeking out from under a log only a few paces away from where he stood.Tyron immediately felt a slight tingle crawl over his scalp before he turned to check on his three companions, rolled in their blankets behind him. To all appearances, they were sound asleep, though he moved closer to be sure before he returned and approached the log, stepping carefully to minimise any noise. As he drew nearer, he saw that he had in fact been correct in his earlier assessment, that broken edge that emerged from beneath the rotting wood was in fact, a bone. What's more, a human bone, possibly a shin bone, though he was still no expert when it came to a human skeleton.He would need to be an expert, he reflected to himself. A more thorough understanding of bones and how they were put together would be important information. He wouldn't always have access to human remains that were laid out neatly in a grave, in fact he'd basically given up on gaining access to exactly those burials when he'd decided to avoid cemeteries. No, he'd be piecing together his minions the hard way from this point forward.After ten minutes he finally saw a reward. An infinitesimal amount of his magick began to seep into the calcified bone, like water soaking into a rock. His eyes widened with excitement and he leaned forward, even if the process was invisible, only to frown again a few seconds later as something pushed back against the energy he provided. There was already magick inside the bones, only a bare trace of it, but it was potent. What's more, there was a strange feel to it, as if it were, dark, or hungry, tainted in some way.Is this death magick?A rush of air and a snap just behind his head broke his concentration and brought him back to the present."Shit," he cursed as he sprang to his feet and flared the light in his hand.A small monster, no larger than knee high was revealed, a bizarre creature of legs with too many joints and overlapping chitin plates. He concentrated, using his mind and simple gestures to shape the basic magick bolt before his thrust the palm of his open hand forward. The spell darted through the air before it struck the rift-kin in the side, tearing a shallow gash through its shell and sending the creature tumbling to the side.Eager to follow up, Tyron stepped forward to keep the monster in his sight, another bolt prepared and ready to fling a few seconds later, but his attacker was swift and righted itself in moments, darting into the foliage and out of view. He cursed softly as his eyes darted across the brush and the pounding of his heart filled his ears. Faint rustling sounds could be heard in the darkness as the rift-kin skittered through the fallen leaves and branches but he couldn't see a thing, even when he held the light above his head and flared it bright.He took slow, measured steps back toward the fire. If he couldn't deal with the creature himself then he'd best wake the slayers. Such a weak creature might be a challenge for him, but it was trivial in their eyes. He planned to move slowly, so he could shake one of them awake. If he were to shout, during the night, who knows what he might call down on their heads? Best to be safe.Not for the first time he wished he had his minions. Perhaps he'd become too accustomed to his class in such a short time, but he didn't feel safe fighting without a skeleton to protect him, not to mention he wouldn't advance his level without one, no matter how much fighting he did. A faint noise to his left drew his attention and he turned, his light covered palm forward as his breath caught in his throat.There was nothing.This stupid critter was playing him like a fiddle! He grit his teeth and took another cautious step backward toward the low burning fire behind him. A few more and Monica would be within his reach. Then he had a thought. Perhaps there was a way for him to win. He hadn't tried the new spell he'd earned from the Anathema class, he hadn't even studied it due to his vague distaste for the premise of it, but it might prove to be just what he needed in this situation. He might not be able to see the rift-kin, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to strike at its mind.He reached internally for the fragments of knowledge he'd been granted and began to pull them together into a coherent framework. Compared to Pierce the Veil or even Raise Dead, this spell was child's play, but even so it was risky to attempt a spell for the first time in a combat situation. He could still reach behind him and awaken a slayer, leave the situation in their hands, but somehow he didn't want to. If he could deal with it himself, then he could return to his study of the bones for the rest of his watch.He stared out into the forest as he worked to arrange his thoughts on Supress Mind. After a few long seconds he felt he was ready to make an attempt. It wasn't a long cast, but the spellwork was intricate, forming a conduit between himself and the target creature through which the spell would attack their consciousness directly.He held the light high and used his free hand to form the gestures he needed as he whispered the vocal component and directed his magick with his thoughts. Once completed, he held the spell at the ready, hoping that it would work as he hoped.That sound again, from the right this time. He spun quickly to see the monster rushing at him from under the brush just before it leapt at him. He threw himself forwards, turned to his left and flung the readied spell at the monster. Immediately he felt it connect and something strange happened.The spell encountered the crude awareness of the monster and a war began as it tried to fight back and he fought to press the spell down and crush the monster's thoughts. The physical form of the rift-kin thrashed and writhed as he drove the spell home before he finally felt its resistance break and the monster grew still.Tyron's mouth twisted with distaste. The sensation of breaking the creature's mind with his own wasn't pleasant, but for now it was unable to move or resist in any way. He drew his sword slowly and stepped forward, ending the monster's life with a quick thrust through the head.He breathed out heavily. Only a small, weak creature, and it had given him this much trouble. He needed minions, higher quality ones, urgently. He checked the fire to see the three slumbering forms hadn't moved since the fight had started. Letting out a small sigh, he walked to his pack and quietly pulled out his butchering knives. He might as well see if this thing had a core.
