While you don’t want to upset another space-skeleton, you cautiously push the topic further. Restoration magic means conjurers last longer, which means more conjurings. And that’s what CairnCorp (®, the skeleton adds) wants, right? Repeat customers?
The skeleton acknowledges that the BAD MAGIC is indeed a method conjurers may utilize to prolong their living state, although its use is heavily discouraged by CairnCorp®. If customers are concerned about personal safety, it is recommended that they prepare their paperwork well in advance† and keep a skeletal minion on hand at all times, as this provides protection without endorsing the school of Restoration.
Sensing your confusion, the skeleton explains further. CairnCorp® is one of the few conjuration planes to offer undead servants, meaning your summons are not only of the highest quality, but immune to poisons, exhaustion, and mind control that would affect a conventional Daedric summon‡. However, their undead nature also means they are uniquely susceptible to several forms of specialized magical combat utilized by a very small number of mages. Most of these spells focus on temporarily breaking the bonekin’s link to the Masters®, but those versed in the BAD MAGIC often take a more heinous path, tampering with the bonekin’s very past.
A bonekin targeted by these spells will find itself having lived the most unspeakable of horrors. We recall every sight, feeling, and sensation as though it was our own. It weighs heavily on our shredded and reconstituted souls, leaving us shaken to our very core until our bi-hourly mind wipe.
Oh, wow. I’m… sorry I brought it up?
From now on I’ll be careful talking about restora-shin!
Like the tibia kind of shin, which is a bone.
So, ah, you seem very good at staying hydrated. Is there a dignified way to drink from a dish?
While there is very little about this in the etiquette knowledge the Makers® have supplied, the skeleton’s limited information suggests the proper route is to place your fingers in a circle around the rim, stabilizing the edges of the dish as you bring it to your mouth.
Don’t worry, you’re still watching the road!
Nobody has shown up since the textile merchant. At most, you’ve seen a few deer.
You have been trying to slightly increase the time between checks, hoping that this will jinx Asotil into walking past the city just in time for you to notice him walking away and chase after him. So far, this has not worked, and you may need some stronger type of jinx-magic.
His name is now Quentin. His favorite food is chamomile tea and he wants to learn woodworking so he can start a shop selling children’s toys that help teach math. It would be emotionally devastating if Asotil showed up and stepped on him.
Or use him/her? To find your friend .
In retrospect, jinx-magic might not actually be a real thing. Taking a more proactive approach, you turn your attention back to the skeleton.
You think about your predicament. You are waiting for a friend to show up, but don’t know when he is going to arrive. You don’t want to leave this rock, lest it cause you to miss him, but you would like to search around and see if there are any better vantage points. Would it be okay to maybe pull the skeleton over to Nirn to act as an extra pair of eye… sockets?
The skeleton delightedly informs you that guard duty is a perfectly acceptable and encouraged use of your CairnCorp® bonekin. According to its readings, however, you have insufficient magical energy to perform a conjuration at this time.
Wait – you can see how much magicka I have?
Of course it can read your mana quantity, the skeleton thinks. In order to provide an optimal conjuration experience, CairnCorp® carefully monitors numerous‡ attributes of customer wellbeing. Your mana quantity is among these.
Can you, like… tell me how much I have? Because I don’t exactly know how to tell.
Certainly! Would you prefer it in metric or Imperial?
Oh! I mean… like, on one hand, I recognize metric is better. Everything being based off multiples of ten just makes sense, you know? But on the other hand, the Empire’s units are what I grew up with. When someone says “one meter”, there’s still this split-second thought of “oh, so about three feet”, and I don’t know if that ever fully goes away. It feels like I still think in Imperial, but on some level I also feel an obligation to try to stand against that. Like, to force myself to use metric units until I stop instinctively converting them in my head and instead just feel comfortable thinking of one meter as one meter.
The skeleton asks you to confirm it understands correctly: you would like the measurement in Imperial.
… Yes, please.
The skeleton informs you that you have one and a half gallons of magicka.
Ah… how much is that?
About five and a half liters.
No, I mean, like… how much does it take to do a conjuration spell?
It varies based on the conjurer’s skill, the skeleton thinks in response. For a caster of your demographics, a basic bonekin conjuration would take approximately twice the amount of mana you currently have, or three gallons. Based on your personal conjuration history, it is estimated the spell would take approximately sixteen times as much mana as you currently have, or twenty four gallons.
Let me guess: this is because of all those pictures I drew on the way there last time, isn’t it?
The skeleton notes that drawing pictures with a leyline you actually intend to use is, in practical terms, a terrible idea that would be met with ridicule were the skeleton capable of such behavior. But because the glorious Makers® have freed the skeleton of such vices, it instead commends you on your creativity and dedication to the arts.
Additional resource credits:
AMKitsune – image positioning help