Incense and Ivory Strips

[Shay]

 

 

Incense and Ivory Strips. Consumable material components for whenever Cameron decides not knowing is not good enough. Her room smells of cedar and rose as she crumbles the ivory strips in an enclosed fist, and sprinkles the dust on to her notebook.

It’s a repurposed spell book, actually. Not one stolen for a nefarious purpose, but one that she had bought herself. It’s littered with obscure knowledge and her research detailing that extremely fine line between the divine and the arcane. It’s a book that she hold dear to her – and one in which she will never admit her emotional attachment to.

She dips a quill in to a vial of ink, and moves it towards the top left of the page. Were anyone present, they would catch a glimpse of uncertainty in Cameron’s eyes before they closed shut, concentrating as she initiated the spell.

It almost feels like cheating: being spoon fed knowledge of legendary importance, only for the cost of 450gp.
How does one put a material price on a metaphysical experience?
Knowledge is power and being spoon fed power is how clerics function, right?
This is a spell in which the values greatly relate to Cameron’s own experience and all that she knows – taking.
Cameron’s never worked for anything that she’s been given, yet she graciously accepts what ever magic her deity bestows upon her.

Her complacency is something she tries not to think about.

The spell lasts 10 minutes. Times is another metaphysical experience that mortals have tried to give a material equivalent to. The hubris of man really is something to behold, but blaming man is more a distraction than a conclusion. Anything that takes her mind of her own impermanence is gladly given consideration.

She looks down towards the spell book, expecting to see scribbles and diagrams hurriedly jotted down during her Legend Lore casting. The page is blank, par a few wet splotches towards the bottom of the page. Cameron had been so lost in her head she hadn’t even cast the spell – she hasn’t been able to in days.

Oh well. She’ll try again tomorrow