Gentlemen, I return with my preliminary results. Do forgive me if my handwriting is a bit shaky, as I currently have no control over my right arm. I assume you are also accustomed to reading scorched parchment. The flames seem even more erratic than usual today, and burn with strange colors and ferocity. I fear it will be weeks before my mustache regains its normal strength. At any rate, my findings so far. I decided to do my first round of testing in my private room at the Royal Bethlehem for convince in case of personal madness, and lack of sane neighbors to disturb. I chose to begin this research with a very simple inscribing. As you all well know, many of the symbols that we study do not easily translate to our native tongue or fit into the concepts we typically use. As I do not wish to inscribe a symbol with a possibly disastrous double meaning to it, I chose one of the few that I know to have a single and relatively simple meaning, and one that could have some use as a weapon. Pain. So, I took up my engraving acid and a small knife from the kitchen and set to work. The flames began at this point. After several hours of work, and several knives, I had etched the rune perfectly into the blade of the thing. Then there was a sharp crack!, not unlike rifle fire, and the smell of the acid and burning steel was replaced with a strong odor of a recent storm. Then nothing. No swirl of unknown energies, no eldritch flames. Just nothing. I will admit to no small amount of disappointment. I then picked up the knife to further inspect my handiwork. The handle had no reaction to the touch of skin. At this point I made the mistake of running my finger across the blade.
It did not pierce my skin, for that I am grateful, but in that fleeting moment of contact I felt more pain that I can recall ever feeling before. Gentlemen, I do not mean to boast when I say this, but I have survived significant physical trauma. I have been speared through by a warlance, and bitten dozens of times by a spider council. My body is host to dozens of scars from all kinds of injury, and this was by far the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. It was like a fire in the veins. It started in my right hand, and spread throughout my entire body. I fell to the floor as every muscle in my body began to seize. I know not how long I lay there, but I have never more fervently wished for the release of that slow boat on the dark river. Eventually the fire began to fade, and left behind it the most terrible chill. I took up the knife from where it had fallen and dissolved it on the spot. My right arm is still limp. A most promising start, if a little bittersweet. I suspect it was the simplistic nature of the word I chose that caused in to act that way. But what if I could direct it? Instead of just Pain, if I found the symbol for Pain to Devils, or Pain to Those Foolish Enough to Stand Before Me? Or perhaps Fire? Bah, mindless speculation I admit, but it gives me hope. At any rate, this concludes the log on my first Engraving Experiment.
Side Note: Mr Signor, I would hazard that it would be possible for a human to speak the Correspondence, I cannot imagine it to be anything less than a miracle if the speaker survives it. Our study demands perfection, especially of penmanship. It would be safe to assume that in order to properly intone the dread power of the Correspondence he would have to pronounce it perfectly. Ask ten Londoners off the street at random to say any word, and most likely they will all say it with slight differences in the emphasis, or even dropping or adding certain sounds. With time and many attempts, one could conceivably learn a few spoken words of this most ancient language. But what happens that first attempt? When you make some small mistake? I dread to find out. Also, given my recent experience, even if one said the word or phrase correctly, it might not have the intended effect. Nonetheless I do intend to make headway into both of these fields at some point. As the theoretical perspectives of the Correspondence seem to be in good hands I shall leave them to you gentlemen.
Once I recover I shall be back to testing.
Wish me luck, I fear I shall need it.
edited by W J P on 11/17/2012
edited by W J P on 11/17/2012