Amo's magic is the envy of all who meet him. He borrows material from the skin of the world itself, twisting atoms from one shape into another. The laws of conservation apply, of course: he can create anything he likes, as long as he destroys another object of roughly the same volume. If he fancies a drink, he squeezes beer out of acorns. He makes his pint glasses from the bark of birch trees. He drinks often and the foliage doesn't last long - haven't you ever wondered why Autumn seems to arrive so fast? But doing business with the fabric of reality is a dangerous thing, and all this swapping and stealing comes with consequences for his soul. What is the exchange rate of existence?