Nox Brews Stories
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72. Settling Into The Cold
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 16:49:31 +0000 UTCMorph loved the new mid-tier ability. He had no trouble recalling and adopting his new appearance—taken from mutilated corpses found among the killed Syllicites. The new face he wore was an amalgamation of two. He took the general shape from one, and the cheekbones and jawline from another, while keeping El-Prime’s eyes and nose. His new appearance didn’t resemble any of the sources, or so Morph hoped. The corpses were far too crushed and mangled to identify any features.
The third Mimicry slot went to the snowmen. Morph ran a handful of experiments. He attempted to grow new arms with and without the ability’s assistance. The former, of course, proved easier and swifter. However, it seemed that his body and mind learned the process with every use, making accomplishing the task much easier. Morph hoped that with enough practice and experience, he’d learn to grow additional limbs without a second thought, freeing up the mimicry slot.
Additional appendages didn’t just involve muscle, bone, and connective tissue, after all. The transformation also included a massive expansion of his nervous system with countless new connections to the spine. Morph could feel all the changes as they happened. The information provided by Biomancy regarding his body’s inner workings was useful and informative, but also unnerving.
The clone stole a new cloak as soon as he parted ways with Lukas. He then sprouted an extra pair of arms, which were longer and skinnier than his normal pair, and let them hang freely. The new garment concealed the extra limbs well, allowing him to blend in. Morph couldn’t help himself. He caused trouble as he walked the streets of their new temporary home.
First, he moved products between stalls. He moved cabbage from one vendor to another. Then, he exchanged root vegetables, moving around potatoes, turnips, and beets. They stood out as the odd ones out in a congregation of uniformity. Morph heard confusion and concern behind him as he moved on. It was amusing but not as exhilarating as he had hoped, and he moved on to theft afterward.
He didn’t take anything expensive, grabbing a trinket here, a children’s toy there. The most valuable thing he took was a pair of gloves that were warm but almost felt like a second skin. They barely hampered his dexterity and sense of touch. El-Prime was sure to appreciate them. The clone had received a small fund to spend on cold-weather wear and a few changes of underclothing. Morph intended to spend as little as possible. Unfortunately, stealing the larger pieces was significantly more challenging, especially because he ended up in a store that dealt enchanted clothing and had far too much security.
“Your clothing might keep you warm, but that’s only until you get wet,” the shopkeeper told Morph, flicking his coat. It was a copy of the coat El-Prime purchased at the port settlement. It seemed Shadow Clone’s growth hadn’t just affected the minions but their clothing, too. The quality appeared no different from the original. “People survive freezing out there, but even the sharded come back with fevers, colds, and illnesses that even life mages and the best alchemists struggle to cure.
“You want a coat and boots that keep the cold and moisture out. And a hat. Not a hood but a hat that will trap the heat in and protect your ears.” The man looked Morph up and down. He scanned the store and locked onto one of the displays near the front of the store. “These are enchanted for durability. They won’t tear easily. Burrowers will struggle to rip through. For a handful of seconds, anyway. And—”
“I’d prefer something with additional padding and armor,” Morph interrupted, pointing at the coats hanging closer to the center of the store. “Like those. I intend to sign up with the guilds and will be out in the fields a fair bit. Perhaps the mountains. The combat coats are why I walked into your store.”
“That might be the case, but the armored and padded pieces are expensive. The boots alone—”
The man fell silent when he pulled out the money El-Prime gave him. It wasn’t the heavy bag of coins they had grown used to carrying. They had the currency exchanged at the port. Morph carried finger-sized rectangular sticks worth ten crowns each. They weighed the same but were easier to carry and contain. Each of them had a hole at one end, allowing them to loop a ring through them. Morph carried three with ten on each of them.
“My budget is two hundred coins,” he said, pocketing the third. “We’ll prioritize the coats and boots. I’d like to save some money for tools and weapons.” It was a lie. Thanks to Biomancy, Morph didn’t need any tools or weapons. El-Prime and the rest of the clones could recreate any mundane weapons using Shadowsteel. They had Arcane Smithing for more. “Give me a good deal and I’ll bring my employer and colleagues around for sets of their own.”
“I apologize for being presumptuous.” The shopkeeper flashed an apologetic smile. “The clothes. Your weary, diary appearance. The—” He paused, nose twitching. The man turned away, marching toward the padded coats with metal segments. “You’re clearly new in town and unprepared. My concerns are understandable. Hope you understand that.”
“Apology not needed. Just show me your best coats and boots. I’d like the latter to be steel-tipped.” Morph picked a light grey piece and felt the material. The materials, enchantments, and alchemical treatments were superior to the garment El-Prime almost purchased at the port. “What is the enchantment on here?” He tapped a steel armor segment with an etched spellscript. “I can’t confirm it myself without my employer present.”
“Do you work for a mage?” The man warily asked.
“Mage and identifier,” Morph asked.
“Oh.” He stood straighter as he continued. “This garment has two enchantments.” The shopkeeper tapped the segments on the shoulder and then the plates running down the left arm. “The first covers durability, flexibility, and weight reduction.” He unbuttoned the coat and showed off the spellform stitched across the interior. “This is a self-repair spell. The coat will repair simple damage as long as the runes remain intact. I’m talking simple tears, burns, and surface damage. The edges and lost material will regrow over time. If any damage persists, bring it back and I’ll fix it myself. For a modest charge, of course.”
“Of course. Although simple and surface are rather ambiguous terms.” He checked the attached tag. “Especially considering the price.”
“I’m sure we can settle on a more acceptable price once you’ve picked out a pair of decent boots and headwear.”
The boots they picked out proved more expensive than the coat, but their quality didn’t compare to the set from the port settlement. It wasn’t just a matter of materials, the craftsmanship was also unparalleled, and the general costs seemed lower. El-Prime’s assumptions about prices being inflated outside of the city proved correct. Morph had browsed several stores and had ended up in one of the more expensive establishments. However, the magic woven into the pieces felt the most potent and refined.
Water-proofing. Durability. Weight reduction. Flexibility. Self-repair. It had all of the same passive boosts alongside an active enchantment.
“It is one of my daughter’s specialities,” the shopkeeper explained. “You can modify one of two qualities.” He tapped the sole. “First one lets you adjust the grip. Trek up and down the most impossible diagonals with ease. Walk on ice or slide across it if you please.” Next, he turned his attention to the tip, tapping it loudly with his knuckles. “The second enchantment is to do with weight and stability. No one wants to lose balance or sink into snow.
“So walk without sinking in?” Morph asked, raising an eyebrow.
The shopkeeper nodded. “You won’t be dancing on the surface. The magic isn’t that potent. But you won’t be sinking so much that a couple of hours of walking exhausts you. It's mostly a quality of life issue that only people who spend all of their lives around snow, and to a lesser extent sand, understand.”
“And it conveniently doesn’t have a price tag.”
“The best I can do is two hundred crowns.”
“That doesn’t sound like your best.” Morph sighed. “Maybe I’ll just purchase the coat here and go elsewhere for the boots. Three stores down—”
“No. No. Let’s not get hasty.” The shopkeeper grabbed the coat Morph had picked. Its pricetag read one hundred crowns. “Two-fifty for both, and I’ll throw in one of my simpler hats.” He nodded at the display in the window. Several faceless wooden heads sat on a high shelf built across it. Hats covered them all. Most just covered the head and ears, but a couple also had flaps for tying across the mouth. “They’re not enchanted, but the alchemical treatment is good enough to keep the moisture out for a year. People lose hats often and don’t tend to spend as much on them.”
“Throw in a free first repair for the pricier pieces, and it's a deal.” Morph could’ve haggled more, but the magic from the first two pieces alone felt worth the price.
“Would you like to wear them out?”
“No. My boss will want to inspect them first.”
“I’ll look forward to your return,” the man was quick to say. “With your colleagues and employers in tow.”
Morph left with everything wrapped in clean, waterproof cloth. He stopped in a couple of more stores before stealing two pairs of trousers and three shirts from a rude vendor who shooed him for his outfit.
“I need a name, young man,” the woman said, tapping the document on the table between them. Her eyes lingered on the Shadow Seeker’s badge. “Your guild name won’t be enough for the rental contract.”
“Eins Zwei Zaun,” the Arcane Smithing clone answered after some thought. El-Prime had given them all the freedom to pick their identity, but he and the enchanter clone would need to share one. It didn’t matter since he, Eins, rarely intended to leave the rental property. Zwei was the one who’d be out and about. “You should find the Zaun name in the Shadow Seekers registry—”
“That won’t be necessary.” She nodded at his badge. “I’m ignorant about your guild, but know enough to tell you’re a second or third tier member. Only a fool would walk around the Gray wearing that without a genuine membership. It's not something people like to show off. Besides, if you’re lying…” She snorted. “If you’re a genuine member, you know that the guild doesn’t take kindly to pretenders.”
Eins nodded. “I’ve heard the tales. The higher-ups’ methods are far from merciful.”
“Both thumbprints here,” she said, pointing at the bottom of the contract. “It's up to the owner whether she checks in with the guild or the Union. Prints are more reliable than names anyway.”
Then why even bother with the spiel about names?
The clones and El-Prime were more than aware of how the guild did things and that the preferred methods of identification were badges and prints. Names meant little, especially with a guild like the Shadow Seekers, who often embarked on covert missions, acting under cover and using fake identities.
Eins did his best to remain patient as the woman prattled on. The clone noticed that it took him considerably more effort to remain charming and amicable than it did for the others. He wanted nothing more than to be alone and work. Eins craved for the heat of the forge and the feeling of striking metal with his hammer. He believed the Arcane Smithing shard had something to do with it. The clone hungered for progress and growth.
Once she left, he got to work straight away, starting with cleaning the dusty space. El-Prime had given them a budget of ten crowns a week. He wasn’t going to be happy on discovering that Eins had committed to fifteen, but the asking rent was twenty. They had a two-storey building to themselves halfway between the conclave’s local base of operations and the material markets by the mountain entrance’s mouth. The ground floor was a well-ventilated workspace with a kitchen and dining area, while the upper floor made for a decent apartment. Best of all, it was furnished. Eins believed it was well worth the price, especially because of the contract’s flexibility and the ample room for all of them to train abilities and put up wards.
Comments
Ben Bass
TYFTC! I think it is hilarious that the forging clone is "One, two", and it is still a play on EL-1 EL-2. I do like how Lukas gives each clone a decent amount of flexability to do waht they need, freeing him up for more things.
1N7L68E
Hmm..?? We'll Luke ain't write as stereotypical American or Asian character.. But what's make you think he's German? Just curious.
Ekko
Tftc I wasn't sure before, but now I now our boy is german, like me. Neat! Morph is an interesting clone, ngl. Biomancy is an interesting Power, that really got more popular in the last few years. I wonder how far he can walk that path. It's interesting, how the Shards of Power influence the Clones personalities. I wonder how different from Lukas they can get.
