It rained again during the night, but my root-and-dirt roof proved surprisingly effective. I woke up in the morning only slightly damp and quite well-rested. It was nearly time for my stitches to come out, so after a quick breakfast I started toward town, leaving the axe and rabbit skins behind. On the way back, I Identified nearly every plant I saw. Unfortunately, all the new information was either something Marnie had already mentioned or inconsequential—if I wanted to know what conditions a plant grows in, I could just look around.

Remembering Cassie’s request for payment, I gathered all the ingredients I could find and carry and by midday I had a bag full of plant matter. I reached my original set of snares, which were empty, then took a slight detour to the unidentifiable hanging moss.

An hour later, I was where I thought I had found the moss. This has to be the right place; there’s a stand of birch trees meeting a stand of pine trees on a small ridgeline, which can't be that common an occurrence.

When I found it originally, I was walking down the ridge when something at eye level caught my eye. I tried retracing my steps. It turned out to be the hanging moss growing on a… tree. Why can’t I remember the type of tree? For that matter, why can’t I remember what it looked like? Did I even find it before, or was it part of a dream?

I turned around and walked back the other way, following the ridgeline for what felt like the twentieth time. What am I missing? It can’t have gotten up and walked away. Wait, can it? Identify doesn’t work on living beings, and I didn’t think to Observe it, so maybe it was some sort of bug. Lost in my ruminations, I didn’t notice that I was walking downhill on a leafy slope. Naturally, I slipped on the leaves and tumbled down the slope.

Twenty feet of rolling and sliding later, I came to a stop against a tree. Ooof. And I made it a couple days without falling down once. Any casualties? Let’s see: arm gash didn’t reopen, lost a couple Health points, hip will surely bruise, no broken bones, bag and spear are… up the hill and intact. That’s lucky, I suppose. Huh, that’s some pretty lichen dangling from the branch, I thought, looking up. Spiraling down from the tree branch were a series of blue plants that shimmered hypnotically in the sunlight.

Hold on; hanging lichen? Identify! Nothing came up. Observe! Still nothing. I guess it might be an Epic or better plant. How did I miss this, anyway? I looked around, double checking my location. I walked by this spot several times today, and that lichen isn’t exactly subtle.

Wait, what lichen? There’s nothing in the tree; did I hit my head in the fall?

Gah! No, I know I saw something. That’s twice now that I happened across the lichen, but as soon as I go looking for it I can’t find it, or even remember what it looked like. Some sort of defensive mechanism then, probably magical. That would make sense if it is, indeed, a high-rank plant.

I marked the tree with my knife, worried that I would forget about it, too, when I left. Just to be sure, I also marked the surrounding trees, then returned to the tree I was sure had lichen hanging from it and carefully studied its branches, trying not to think about finding any lichen. As I focused on the patterns in the bark, I caught glimpses of blue out of the corners of my eyes. Repeating that strategy on the other trees nearby, I determined that several of them also had the elusive lichen dangling from their branches.

Right, so mystery solved, but does that actually help me? I still don’t want to touch it, and wouldn’t know what to do with it if I did harvest it. Guess I’ll ask Cassie if she would be interested tomorrow. Satisfied that there was no reason to stick around, I hurried back to town, making it back home around dusk.

When I got there, the door panel was open, but I was sure I had left it closed.

A close inspection of the ground inside showed footprints other than my own. Did someone come here looking for me, or was this an attempted theft? I hadn’t left anything other than the crude furniture there, so there had been nothing to steal, not that anything else I had was worth taking.

My mind immediately leapt to Marcus though, before I caught myself. No, it’s unfair to blame every ill on him, especially in a town full of desperate people, and just because he’s an asshole doesn’t mean he’s a thief, anyway. This is all the more reason to stay out of town though. Do I sleep somewhere else tonight just to be safe? No, if someone is willing to attack my person, they have plenty of other opportunities to do so. No need to sleep where the animals and rain can get at me too. Doing my best to put the incident out of my mind, I eventually fell asleep.

Bright and early the next morning, I headed over to the apothecary. On the way, I spotted some of Marcus’s hangers-on, but thankfully they didn’t see me; or at least they didn’t make a fuss. Anyway, I got to the apothecary, had my stitches taken out, and gave Cassie my collection of ingredients, which she was pleased enough by to replenish my first aid supplies. Then I remembered to ask about the moss.

“So the other day I found some moss hanging from a tree that I couldn’t Identify. It seems to mess with memories or senses—not quite sure about that—but either way it’s hard to find while deliberately looking for it. Is that something you know about or might be interested in?”

“Hanging moss you say? I can’t say I know what you’re talking about, but I am interested. Can you describe it?”

I shook my head. “No, that’s part of the problem. Everything seems normal when I’m looking at it, but as soon as I turn away, I can barely remember seeing it. Thought I was losing my mind at first.”

“And you couldn’t Identify it and you don’t have a sample?”

“Right. I was worried it might be poisonous or I would somehow destroy it.”

She nodded. “Sensible. High rank plants especially can have nasty side effects when improperly harvested. How far away did you find it?”

“Bit under half a day’s walk.”

“Alright. Tell you what, you take me to where you found it, and I’ll see if I can Identify it. If I can use it, I’ll give you a Leatherworking Skillbook and the corresponding tools that I got from Rupert. I got them for something to do in my free time, but I would rather experiment with a new ingredient. Anyway, how about it?”

I thought for a moment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of leading her to the source, since then she could just harvest it all herself and I’d be left with nothing. However, I wasn’t about to harvest it myself, seeing as even if I got another rank in Identify and it gave me the plant’s name, I still wouldn’t feel safe touching it. It seemed I didn’t have much of a choice after all. Plus Leatherworking would be useful, as I only had one set of clothing and no way to get new ones.

Still though, I could do a bit of negotiating. “How about you also throw in some of whatever you manage to make out of the moss?”

She smiled. “Deal. Does tomorrow work for you?”

So that was how I found myself back at the ridgeline a day later, this time accompanied by Cassie. I had no trouble locating the trees I had marked, but, yet again, the lichen proved elusive.

“You sure this is the right place?” Cassie asked. “And that this moss actually exists?”

I sighed. “Yes. You have to stop looking for it though. Try looking at that branch there, and tracing the patterns on the bark.”

She cooperated, thankfully, and shortly later gave a start. “Oh. Oh. Fascinating.” Over the next few minutes, I waited patiently while she walked around the tree and moved her head back and forth while peering at the branches and lichen.

Eventually, I cleared my throat. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Oh, right. Well, you’ll be getting that leatherworking gear for sure. It’s Epic rank and affects Perception somehow. Ideally I will be able to make a potion with it that enhances Perception, but no guarantees. It’ll be fun to experiment with regardless. Anyway, I actually brought the book and tools with me, so you can have them now if you want, then you can be on your way and I can stay and study the lichen.” She pulled out the book and a small bundle and offered them to me.

“Sounds good. You know your way back?” I asked while taking the bundle.

“Oh, yes. Don’t you worry about me.”

I left after some quick goodbyes. As I had no reason to return to town, I traveled to my camp by the river for the night. Before falling asleep, I pulled out the Leatherworking Skillbook. It was similar to the Spellbook, but the designs inside were less mesmerizing. I actually had to consciously activate it this time, and the pain from doing so was less extreme, but still enough to knock me out.

Leatherworking has advanced to Level 6!

When I awoke and checked my memories, I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. While Level 6 didn’t seem like much, probably because it wasn’t, it was enough for me to know how to make a full set of clothing, including moccasins and gloves. What’s more, the Leatherworking Skill wasn’t restricted to purely working with leather: I knew how to tailor fur and even had a vague idea how to tan hide into leather. It was enough for me to reconsider staying in town and perhaps becoming a clothier. Ultimately, though, my previous motivations still held. After all, it was the bounty of the wilderness that bought me the Skillbook, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.

Decision reaffirmed, I rose for the day and went through my morning routine of checking traps and spending spare Mana practice my Teleport accuracy. Once finished, and after I put some food in my belly, I left along the north fork of the river.

Much like the west fork, the terrain soon became rockier and difficult to navigate. However, as I Identified the rocks in the river, I found that many more of them were ore-rich. This was at least in part because of my upgraded Identify, seeing as metals were now registering even at very low concentrations, including several I hadn’t seen before. Nevertheless, there were still substantially more highly ferrous rocks, so I had high expectations for upriver.

The morning passed unremarkably as I progressed into the foothills. In the mid-afternoon, though, I found some fresh tracks. I didn’t recognize them, but they were large enough that the animal would provide at least one meal, while still small enough that the animal couldn’t possibly pose a threat, assuming it was mundane.

I crept along, and it was naught but ten minutes later that I happened upon the creature: a large rodent, approximately two feet long, grazing at the edge of a small meadow. Naturally, I Observed it.

Ruftlead Groundhog (Level 1): 15/15 Health

Definitely mundane then. It was time to try my Teleport-hunting again. The rockier terrain meant I was spoilt for choice of ammunition, and I quickly settled on a stone about half the size of the groundhog. I Teleported it above the groundhog’s head, then immediately followed up with another rock.

The second one proved to be useless. In fact, it missed entirely. The first, though, was on target, and I was left with a dead groundhog. Thankfully, I had judged—or guessed, more accurately—the Teleport height correctly, so instead of the gory mess that I feared, the carcass was only slightly bloody.

I walked over and picked up the body. I forgot to gather the essence again. Oh, well, at least I killed it. I tried meditating, just in case any of the essence was still around, but I wasn’t sure it did anything since I didn’t bother checking my exact essence amount.

What’s the range and time limit for collecting essence anyway? I assume it disperses outward, but do certain substances limit it, like what happens with Teleport? Should I be capturing animals and then killing them in a solid box? Seems a bit heartless, but if there is a definite advantage, I’m willing to do it.

I don’t have any way to directly measure essence though. Maybe I could ask someone? But if it makes a big difference and people know that, then surely Marnie would have told me. I don’t really have the luxury of experimenting now, so I guess I’ll just keep doing as I have for now.

While I was wondering about essence dispersal, I tied the groundhog to the outside of my bag and headed off upriver again, now looking for somewhere to spend the night. Eventually I chose some flat ground next to an overhanging cliff that would hopefully provide some shelter.

I settled in for the evening, skinning, cooking, and eating the groundhog. Despite my success with Teleport earlier, I decided to practice Mana Bolt that evening. Teleport might have been more practical for hunting, and I really wanted to be able to Teleport myself, but Mana Bolt would be more useful for defending myself.

After exhausting my Mana, I took out the leatherworking tools and started patching and generally improving my blanket. The experience of using my book-granted memories was odd and slightly disturbing. One moment I’d be stitching along like I had done so a hundred times before, and the next I’d lose all sense of what I was doing and wind up stabbing myself.

I vaguely recalled Griff mentioning something about loss from Skillbooks; perhaps this was what he was referring to? Whoever generated the Skillbook surely wouldn’t have struggled as much as I was. It did at least partially explain why my knowledge was so broad at only Level 6—if I was unable to implement what I knew, I probably wouldn’t even deserve that.

It was somewhat curious that I hadn’t noticed any similar problems when casting Teleport. Is it because it started at a higher level? That would mean I’ll likely have problems casting the other spells I learned then. On the other hand, the Spellbook did look fancier than the Skillbook; perhaps it is simply a question of quality. Or maybe I knew how to cast Teleport before and some underlying memories filled in the gaps of the Spellbook? After all, I already had Spatial Attunement. That seems to rely on too many coincidences to be a real possibility though.

I finished work on the blanked as the light faded and then fell asleep. The night was warm and passed uneventfully.

The next day was much the same, only with the terrain worsening even further. A couple times the riverbanks steepened into a gorge and I had to take long detours and rejoin the river further upstream. The rough travel was taking its toll on me, so I took an extended midday break to practice and experiment with Teleport some more.

While I did want to get a better handle of the general limitations of the spell, there was one question in particular that I wanted to answer: what happens when I try Teleporting part of an object? There were a couple of major implications. The first was that if I could Teleport objects into pieces I would be able to carve out anything I wanted with ease—no more tedious knapping of flint tools; instead all I would have to do is spend a couple seconds casting a spell.

On the other hand, if Teleporting partial objects was that simple and I tried Teleporting myself without the requisite Mana, I would probably wind up splitting myself in two. Not a fun thought. I did hold out some hope that there was a middle ground where it would take deliberate concentration and shifting my frame of reference to split an object with Teleport, similar to my targeting trick. My book-given memories were no help on the matter, but it was becoming clear that they were incomplete and not even necessarily accurate.

Anyway, I was ready to experiment on the matter. For my first test, I would try to Teleport half of a fist-sized rock that I selected because I would have plenty of Mana to Teleport it repeatedly if needed. Instead of instinctively casting the spell, as I had always done previously, I forced my Mana to slow down.

At first everything proceeded normally and I enveloped the outside of the half I wanted to Teleport. Then, when I tried guiding my Mana into the stone, I encountered resistance. It didn’t seem insurmountable though; as I poured more and more Mana into the spell I felt myself making steady progress towards the center. Controlling that much Mana was a struggle though, and I had to fight my book-given instincts every second of the way. Eventually, my instincts won, and in a brief lapse of concentration, my Mana encircled the stone completely and I Teleported it whole.

That could have gone better. Maybe I should start with something easier, but what? Let’s see, I already managed to separate something from water, however unpleasant that was. This isn’t totally different. What happens when I try Teleporting something containing water?

So, for my next test I pulled out my pot, splashed some water into it, and then tried Teleporting the pot without the water. This time there wasn’t even a struggle; a few short seconds later I had an empty pot and damp bit of ground.

That was easy. What was so different? I guess the pot and the water are easier to split apart. Actually, they might not even count as a singular object and it might not be possible to Teleport them together. Of course I had to immediately refill the pot and try Teleporting it with the water inside.

Again, the spell was easy to cast, but this time the water stayed inside the pot, not even sloshing about. That’s a relief. I won’t have to show up naked when I do manage to Teleport myself.

I was tracking my Mana expenditure throughout the tests, and noticed that Teleporting the pot with or without the water cost the same. I guess the moving mass of the water and the extra work to separate it take about the same amount of Mana?

I bent down to pick up the stone I attempted to split in half earlier. So what makes you so different from water, I wondered, peering at it absently, not expecting to find anything. However, I noticed a hairline crack running around the outside where I had forced my Mana into it. Huh, I guess I was literally splitting it in preparation for the spell. Is there something about the Teleport spell that causes this?

Oh wait, I can just shape things with magic normally. No need to try fancy tricks with an obscure spell. What did Cassie call it? Elemental Manipulation? I should probably just practice that directly. It can’t be any less Mana-efficient than forcing Teleport to do the work.

With my questions at least partially answered, I decided I’d had enough of a break and set off upriver once more.