《Path of the Wanderer》 Chapter 1: System Loading Marc felt like he had just woken up after a heavy night of drinking. Given that the last thing he remembered was going over to his parent¡¯s place to celebrate with his little sister, he either drank more in one day than he did in years, or something else was happening. He opened his eyes, and saw that he was laying in some kind of cavern. From his lying position, he saw the mouth of the cave he had apparently sheltered in overnight Outside was a dark green forest, making it impossible to tell what time of day it was from where he was. Deeper into the cave, beyond where the light reached, he heard a distant echo. A tremor seized the ground for a moment, like something heavy falling far away in a building. Eventually it all settled. He stayed laying down, taking in his surroundings. The stone was brown, but thankfully dry. There were some mosses growing on the walls towards the mouth of the cavern, and a burned out campfire in front of him. Marc didn¡¯t know how to even build a fire. ¡°Where the hell-¡± Marc started, before something appeared before him. SYSTEM LOADING. THIS MAY TAKE A FEW MINUTES. OK ¡°WOAH! What the-?¡± he shouted, startled by the thing. It looked like the menu screen he¡¯d expect from an old video game, looking similar to a gray granite, with the letters a dull glowing red. Beyond that, it was too perfect. The edges came to a perfect right angle, and as Marc reached out to press the only button, which said OK, it was smooth as glass. Button pressed, the stone disappeared from top to bottom. ¡°This can¡¯t be real,¡± Marc said, ¡°Lets just. . .¡± He decided to close his eyes and go back to sleep, hoping that doing so would bring him back to his bed. The cave disagreed, a loud boom coming from further within. The ground shook once more. Marc looked further in. He didn¡¯t know what was happening, but it sounded big. If the place caved in, the best case scenario was that he was crushed, with the worst case being him trapped for 3 painful days. He stood up, dusted himself off, and saw what he was wearing for the first time. His shirt was a dull blue-gray, as if its color had washed away, and ended in a rough cut just below his pockets. His pants were white in a yet-to-be-dyed way, and were held up by a thin cord for a belt. On his feet were a pair of sandals. He patted his pockets, hoping to find a phone that was not there. ¡°I¡¯¡¯ll, uh, be going?,¡± he said quietly. As he took his first step, he nearly tripped over a canvas bag with a strange pattern on the top. In a matching patterned scabbard, a long blade was leaning on the bag. He picked both up, and exited the cave. He was in the middle of a dense forest, and further in with trees no more than 10 feet apart. There was a steep hill before him, and with the rain coming down it was soon to be a pile of mud. Despite the canopy blocking out most of the light, from here Marc could see it was clearly day. What it did not block was the rain that was coming down in sheets. His clothing was already halfway soaked by the time he got to the first few trees. A few steps more, and another stone tablet jumpscared him. CHARACTER DETAIL ACCESSIBLE VIEW NOW DISMISS After his flinch, Marc looked left and right in case someone saw him. ¡°If a guy gets spooked in the woods and no one is around, did it really happen?¡± he mumbled to himself, before tapping the View Now button. Anything that this dream would give him for more information would be worth it, at this point. NAME: Marcus H. Green RACE: Outsider CLASS: Wanderer LEVEL: 1/50 ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Superior ABILITIES: RSL - 15 Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. FCS - 12 MGT - 14 FNS - 7 LCK - 6 ACTIVE EFFECTS: [SUMMONING SICKNESS (3)] (Esoteric) Resilience reduced by 3 Focus reduced by 3 Finesse reduced by 3 BOONS INVENTORY REQUIREMENTS Marc had played RPGs before, both tabletop and computer, so he knew how to read them in general. Even so, some things were off about this one. ¡°Why am I not human? And what is summoning sickness?¡± Marc mumbled. Another loud noise echoed out into the woods, sending a new cascade of water onto Marc¡¯s head as even the trees shook this time. Absent-mindedly, he grabbed the tablet, before realizing he could move it around like, well, a tablet. It hovered in the air when he let go, but not before bringing it under some more solid cover. He tried to press the Boons button, then the Inventory, but where previously the buttons had a perfect glide, now they were solid and set in place. ¡°Is it. . . still loading?¡± Another tablet popped up. SYSTEM LOADING. THIS MAY TAKE A FEW MINUTES. OK He dismissed it. He looked at the stats once again. Like in many games, they were abbreviated, and looking at Summoning Sickness, it seemed Resilience was RSL, Focus was FCS, and Finess was FNS. He¡¯d guess that LCK was for Luck, which, given it was not reduced, meant he was twice as focused as he was lucky. Not exactly a great sign, given he wasn¡¯t exactly someone who could sit still and read for more than a few hours. On the right side of the Character detail tablet, he could see himself, or rather a third person image of himself. He still looked the same as before. A relieving sight, him not being some alien of some kind. At 5¡¯9, Marc had never cut an imposing figure, but he was broad, a trait shared by all the men on his mom¡¯s side. He looked over himself, same light brown hair, same green eyes, and the last bits of a summer tan giving way to pale. He wasn¡¯t the most athletic, having done a bit of football in highschool, and some minor weightlifting before the lockdown. Since then though, he had done little to his figure besides losing muscle definition. The rain was coming down harder now, and thunder crashed overhead. That left Marc with 2 options: stay where he was, and hope the noise in the cave wouldn¡¯t affect him, or continue on through the forest, getting more and more soaked as he went. He drummed his fingers on the tablet as he thought. He looked at it. Pushing it under a stream of water from the leaves above, he watched as the water passed straight through it, as if it wasn¡¯t there. Putting any weight on it caused the tablet to move. Disappointed at his lack of a magical umbrella, and with one last look towards the cave, Marc began walking downhill, carefully avoiding the roots and slippery rocks. It was slow going, especially as Marc really didn''t want to slip and bash his head on any of the myriad obstacles. He slipped a lot less than he expected, especially given his choice (well, not exactly a choice) of footwear. Not 50 feet from the tree line, and another screen appeared, accompanied by another massive roar from the cave. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. The ground even shook with this one. Marc kept moving, bringing the tablet with him as he kept moving downhill, and the thunder grew louder. BOONS WANDERER BOONS SIGHTSEEKER - 0% For each [Large Distance] traveled, increase Might by [2]. If traveling unknown areas, [Moderate Distance]. Loses Potency after 30 days Current effect: [0] / [2%] SURVIVALIST - 0% Reduces the effects of all natural damage. Increases stability on non-magical terrain. Able to loot [20%] of monster valuables. MORE BOONS UNLOCK AS REQUIREMENTS ARE MET. OUTSIDER BOONS POLYGLOT [Common] languages are translated automatically. AETHEREAL RESISTANCE Provides [Minor] resistance to Electric, Aethereal, and Spirit damage. Reduces effects of {Summoning Sickness}. Increases accuracy of Teleportation. MORE BOONS UNLOCK AS REQUIREMENTS ARE MET. HISTORIA BOONS: 0/2/3 All of the Wanderer Boons made sense to him, from a standpoint. Even the outsider ones made sense to him if he looked at it thought the lens of an RPG, and he was thankful that Summoning Sickness was something he resisted naturally given he had it. He noticed that Summoning Sickness was, itself, a button he could push, but knowing what it did, he decided not to. That said, he was hoping to not take much damage at all, let alone those resisted by his Outsider boon. More noises rang out from the cavern, and Marc decided to leave the tablet floating in mid-air. If he needed it, he could go back and grab it. The terrain, despite his lack of slipping, was not exactly hospitable. As his vision went white and a boom rattled his bones, he realized that the weather wasn¡¯t either. Lightning, at close range, was yet another first to add to the all-too-many of today. After he could see again, Marc saw both the struck tree, maybe 30 feet from him, and that he had gotten a new active effect [DAZZLED] (Natural) Defenses weakened Focus reduced by 1 ¡°I really don¡¯t have time for-¡± Marc began to say, before the ground exploded upwards. He tumbled over, barely avoiding a head-meet-rock scenario. There were shouts he didn''t catch, and as he got up, he saw three figures running out of a newly made entrance to the cave system. And right behind them was a spider the size of a school bus. Chapter 2: Between a Spider and a Lightning Place Marc was at most 20 feet from the trio and massive spider, and was already sure he didn¡¯t want to get any closer. The spider was big. Monster movie big. It was a pale brown color, with some patches of green. Camouflage, Marc realized, to hunt in this exact environment. To make it even worse, it had what looked like a long scorpion tail hanging underneath it. Tearing his eyes away from his new nightmare, he looked at the group. The first was an honest-to-god Knight, wearing deep red armor. With a brutal axe in one hand, and a fourth person slung over their shoulder. The Knight was slow to rise, and the least equipped for the environment. Wet roots, mud, an extra adult of weight, and a steep incline all combined to make it so the Red Knight was going to be struggling to stand, let alone fight. The unconscious person was wearing dark clothes, a dark mask, and some kind of goggles. Marc''s eyes refused to focus on the body, only the surrounding space, making details hard to pick out. Closest to Marc was a man dressed in what looked to be a single, massive burlap sack, sewn into some odd kind of trench coat. Each drop of rain dissolved into steam as it met his sack-cloak. He held a small knife in one hand, and something even smaller in the other. If the knight was unequipped to move, Sack Man was unequipped to fight. The final member of the group was a hunter, plain and simple. Bow in hands, with a hooded cloak that left her arms free to shoot it. While Marc couldn¡¯t see a quiver, the cloak covered most of the hunter''s body. She looked around and saw him, but turned back to the monster. The hunter was the first to recover, and pulled back the empty string. A glow of green and red covered the Hunter''s hands as an arrow materialized from nowhere. Letting the string loose, the arrow flew faster than Marc could see, but with the Spider staggering back, it had hit. Marc was getting ready to run away as fast as he could. ¡°Catch!¡± The knight called out, twisting and hurling the body of the unconscious person through the air. It was with barely enough time to react that Marc realized he was the one being called. He caught the person, a man. He was surprised at how light he was, but stumbled a few steps before catching his balance. Even at this range, his eyes refused to see the man¡¯s face. ¡°No head-meets-rock today buddy,¡± Marc muttered. The spider pulled back its tail, aiming for the Knight, still off balance from the throw. The Sack Man had recovered by now, and put the knife and what appeared to be a small wrench together. As he pulled them apart, he said. . . Something. Like when looking at the cloaked man, his brain refused to acknowledge the sound beyond that it had words. The tail shot forward, but a burst of flame caught the spider in the back. Marc''s eyes widened at the sight of a point blank firework going off. Looking at the spider once again, Marc could see dozens of arrow wounds, cuts, and burns along the body of the spider. These people had been fighting it, and not doing too badly. He looked at the stranger he was carrying. ¡°Well, mostly.¡± ¡°Lightning Strike, soon!¡± The hunter called out. Pulling back the string, another arrow manifested. The knight was struggling to stand up after being knocked over by the spell, more injured or tired than appearances suggested. Not helping was the mud underfoot, causing the armored hulk to slip while rising. Marc readjusted the body in his arms, and started moving away. There was no way he could help in this fight for a number of reasons. As he got past the nearest tree though, he was Dazzled once again by a bolt of lightning hitting it. Thankfully, that status effect didn¡¯t stack. ¡°I TOLD YOU, LIGHTNING STRIKE!¡± The hunter shouted over the storm. At this point, Marc didn¡¯t know what to do. Another stone tablet appeared as he was looking around in panic. He zeroed in on it, relieved for something to focus on in the chaos INVENTORY: Wanderer¡¯s Armor (Cloth, Mundane) Straight Sword (Iron, Mundane) Outsider¡¯s Locus (Container, Esoteric) Potion of Past Steps (Healing, Consumable, Esoteric, E1/L1) x3 Attunement Lozenge (Consumable, Esoteric) x10 This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Constellation Dagger (Iron, Esoteric, E1/L1) Things made sense, up until the Locus. Given the only thing unaccounted for was the backpack it must be that. Oh, and container was listed, that checked out. The potion had the healing tag, but what would it actually do? Wasting one of 3 potions seemed like a bad idea, but the person Marc was carrying was well and truly KO''d. Behind him, the spider attacked the group of three. A cry from the knight, whether of rage or of pain, caught his attention. Turning around, he saw the Sack-Man on the ground, blood pooling on his clothes, slipping as he tried to stand, but the other two seemed fine. Tired, but fine. He had to do something, either run with this guy in hand, leave all four to the spider, or join the fight. But if, seemingly, actual magic couldn¡¯t do anything, what could someone with zero combat experience do? ¡°Lightning, again, right around here!¡± The Hunter called out. Only a few seconds later, another bolt struck down on another tree. Marc¡¯s eyes widened as he developed an idea. A stupid idea. He concentrated, trying to remember the boons, before another stone tablet appeared to show him. If he survived his stupid idea, knowing he could pull them back up would be useful. SURVIVALIST - 6% Reduces the effects of all natural damage. Increases stability on non-magical terrain. Able to loot [20%] of monster valuables. He may not know combat, but he knew how to climb. He may not know spiders, but lightning was dangerous to everything. He stared at his boon. Increased stability. ¡°Lets hope this works on trees too.¡±
Helen was not having a great day. First, their technical boss, a Daughter of Fray, decided that entering the Tailed Gargantula''s Lair was a good idea. Given she was paying them, and was the person getting hurt most, they followed despite Helen¡¯s internal protests Then, as it inevitably went wrong, Barry decides to start throwing out explosion after explosion, nearly bringing the place down on them. Nico was halfway through sapping a tunnel out of the pit when the thing came barreling down the halls. Barry had to blast them the rest of the way through the ground and they landed right in front of a random guy. Now, Nico was down, Barry was poisoned, the Fray was on the worst possible terrain, and Helen herself was running out of Mana fast. The person she''d named Guy in her head, whoever he was, was not helping. She didn''t hold it against him as he looked to be a beginner, but she wasn''t happy about it either. ¡°I should have told them that this was a bad idea¡± she thought, dodging a bite towards her. As an archer, she tried to keep out of reach, but if it didn¡¯t bite at her, it would be biting at the much less resilient Pyromancer. As she kept evading, she caught a glimpse of the Guy climbing a tree (at a fairly good clip, truth be told). It took a lot of control to keep from shouting at him to get down. The lightning was going to be coming soon, and it was always attracted to higher places. ¡°That guy better not get Nico killed with this¡±, she muttered to herself as she loosed another arrow into its back. She put him out of her mind. The Daughter of Fray was good at fighting, her most redeeming quality in Helen''s mind, besides her supply of gold. Then again, Helen would be just as good if she were a Blood Knight instead of a Ranger. The guy looked like a new adventurer. ¡°He probably got his first Historia around here¡±, she thought. Another shot. After a few more she''d be out of mana. She felt a tingling to the south. Her Rangersight, courtesy of Nico''s gift to her some months ago, allowed Helen to get a premonition of natural dangers, among other benefits. While she couldn''t tell exactly where it would fall, she knew when. ¡°SOON!¡±, she shouted, mostly towards the Guy. He was the only one in danger of getting hit. With one last pull at the natural magic around her, Helen launched her last magical arrow. She had some real ones in her quiver, some of them magical. Unfortunately, her quiver was 50 feet away. It was blasted off of her as they left the cave. She saw the Guy had reached the top of the tree. If Fray didn''t keep its attention, the only thing between him and the spider''s maw was height. He was waving his Sword wildly. ¡°Is he going to jump onto it?¡± ¡°HEY!! EIGHT EYES¡±, no, he was doing something far, far dumber. Monsters, despite their lack of speech and civilization, were not idiots. Well, Gargantulas weren''t. It spun around. It saw a free meal. It began climbing. It shot up the tree in seconds. With the time the Guy granted, Barry cast Phoenix Feather on himself and Fray, healing the both of them and curing his poison. Helen idly thought that, with that spell cast, he owed her more money. At the top of the tree, the soon-to-be-dead Guy was still waving his sword, swinging it at the spider that was within range to pierce him with its tail. Eventually, he landed a hit on it, and the angry spider wrenched the sword from Guy''s hand. She watched as he jumped from the tree. Helen''s Rangersight went from a tingling to the feeling of pulled hair. The strike was imminent. Guy was falling. The spider lunged with its tail. Lighting split the sky. It struck the sword. The tree caught fire as the spider popped. Guy hit the ground. Chapter 3: Interrogation of the Wheelbarrow Guy When Marc came to, the rain had stopped. He saw as the canopy overhead passed by on its own, and a quick look around told him that he was being carried on a wheelbarrow. The Sack Man was carrying it behind him, leaving Marc to look at the space disappearing behind. Then, the bolts of pain rang across his torso, and attempting to return from the twisted position resulted in more. Marc smiled despite the pain. He lived. It seemed the others didn¡¯t know that he was awake just yet. They were probably nice given he wasn¡¯t left behind, but there was something he wanted to do first. He thought back to the System he was still waiting for, and after a brief period of concentration, a tablet appeared in front of him once more. MENU > NOTIFICATIONS > CHARACTER DETAIL > INVENTORY > BOONS > REQUIREMENTS > ACTIVE EFFECTS > MISCELLANEOUS Marc clicked the notifications, figuring that anything truly important would be there. NOTIFICATIONS: 3min ago: You have recovered from {INCAPACITATED}. Gained status {WOUNDED}. 3hr ago: You have wandered far and wide. You gain 1 instance of {Sightseeker}. 1d ago: You have recovered from {SUMMONING SICKNESS}. 1d ago: System loading complete. Settings available. 1d ago: Repeated use of {Survivalist} has increased its potency. 2d ago: You have recovered from {DAZZLED} 2d ago: You have been healed. You have recovered from {DYING}. Gained status {INCAPACITATED}. 2d ago: You sustained a vital injury. Gained status {DYING}. 2d ago: You have gained a Class Boon. {ESTRANGE} 2d ago: Experience is at 100%. You have reached level 5. {INFO} 2d ago: Experience is at 100%. You have reached level 4. {INFO} 2d ago: Experience is at 100%. You have reached level 3. {INFO} 2d ago: Experience is at 100%. You have reached level 2. {INFO} 2d ago: You have slain Tailed Gargantula. Experience gained. Additional Experience granted for defeating a high-level foe. Additional Experience granted for defeating a high-echelon foe. 2d ago: An item in your possession has been destroyed. Well, that certainly gave some insight as to what had happened over the previous 2 days. ¡°Four Levels isn¡¯t bad¡± he muttered under his breath, before realizing that there were other people around to hear him. Thankfully they didn¡¯t, and Marc tapped on the Info buttons by the level ups, before going to the Character Details. LEVEL 2: RSL - 18 + 1 FCS - 15 + 1 MGT - 14 + 1 FNS - 10 + 1 LCK - 6 + 0 LEVEL 3: RSL - 19 + 2 FCS - 16 + 1 MGT - 15 + 1 FNS - 11 + 0 LCK - 6 + 0 LEVEL 4: RSL - 21 + 1 FCS - 17 + 0 MGT - 16 + 1 FNS - 11 + 0 LCK - 6 + 0 LEVEL 5: RSL - 22 + 1 FCS - 17 + 2 MGT - 17 + 0 FNS - 11 + 1 LCK - 6 + 0 BOON GAINED: ESTRANGE Activated by suffering [Melee] damage Forces the activating object away, reducing damage taken by up to [5%] [5%] chance to negate all damage. After use, cannot be activated again for [1 Minute] Effect improves with Resilience. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. NAME: Marcus H. Green RACE: Outsider CLASS: Wanderer LEVEL: 5/50 (21%) ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Critical ABILITIES: RSL - 23 FCS - 19 MGT - 17 (+2) FNS - 12 LCK - 6 ACTIVE EFFECTS: [WOUNDED] (Mortal) Halves time until death while {DYING} Removed automatically when healed above 90%. He looked at the new Boon, Estrange. It helped him to not get hit as much, and he could only imagine that it would be useful for throwing people off balance at the least. Hopefully he didn¡¯t need to use it against another giant spider anytime soon. The levels he gained were nice. 4 at once was a shock, but given that it was high level, and high ¡°echelon¡±, whatever that meant, did explain it. In most games Marc had played, the amount of experience gained was relative to the action performed. The more difficult, the faster you leveled up. ¡°Hey, Barry. I think he''s up.¡± Marc heard a female voice from behind him. The wheelbarrow stopped where it was and the Sack Man walked around to look at him. The Sack Man, now known as Barry, looked. . . Young. College age at most, with no facial hair at all. He was pale, with blue eyes, light brown hair, and a few freckles. He had an excited grin on his face, as the other three joined him. The Hunter was next, hood down. She was probably closer to Marc''s age, and had a thin scar across her right cheek. Her eyes were brown, but there was a solid ring of green right around the pupil. Her hair was darker brown than Marc''s, and she was far more tanned than any of her companions. Then was the unconscious man, whose face he could actually look at without the mask on. While Barry and the Hunter would fit in at Marc''s high school, he would stand out. He was tall, easily above 6 feet, but lithe as a swimmer. His unblemished skin was a mixture of light gray and purple, and his face was thin and angular, coming to pointed ears. His gray eyes were almost unnaturally light, and his pupils were pinpoints even in the shade. Even his bone white hair made him more. . . Off. He looked entirely alien to anyone Marc had ever seen. Lastly was the person who must have been the Knight, and the owner of the voice. Without her armor, he didn''t recognize her, but the other three were obvious enough. She was taller than all except the alien, but was far more normal in appearance. Pale skin, red hair, green eyes, but with a number of scars across her face. She looked down on Marc as if she was judging him, and had a sheathed weapon in her hand, ready to be drawn. The alien spoke up, in an equally unusual accent, ¡°You¡¯re awake. Good to see. Thanks for not letting me die.¡± Each sentence was short and simple. Marc looked at him, stuttering, ¡°Y-yeah. Uh, where am I? A-and who are you all?¡± The hunter replied, ¡°I''m Helen, Ranger. That''s Nico, our Sapper, and the noble steed pulling your carriage is our Pyromancer, Barry. The Blood Knight here is a Daughter of Fray.¡± Helen looked skyward before turning back to him continuing, ¡°We¡¯re about a half day''s journey from Grand Vale, so we''ll be there by sundown.¡± Marc knew the name of where he was going. Shame he didn''t know what it meant, ¡°What-what state is that in? Or country?¡± Helen closed her eyes in a look of exasperation. ¡°Not my fault I don¡¯t know where I am¡± Marc thought. Nico and Barry looked at each other and the Fray person¡¯s eyes narrowed, before Barry interjected, ¡°We¡¯re in the Sage Lands, if that helps? Just west of the Six Hills, bit southwest of Fray territory.¡± It did not help. Though knowing that apparently this knight had territory (or one of her parents did) was good information to have for later. Then, the knight spoke, ¡°You aren¡¯t human. What are you?¡± The other three turned to her in confusion, but her focus never shifted from Marc. Their eyes met, and it felt exactly like when Marc was young and had done something wrong he really didn¡¯t want to admit to. Even back then, he didn¡¯t have the willpower to resist fessing up for too long. ¡°Apparently I¡¯m an, uh, outsider? Not entirely sure what that means but. . .¡± The others stared at him as Marc trailed off. It was like he had grown a second head. ¡°What did I say?¡± Fray looked at him with disdain. ¡°I told you he wasn¡¯t human. Lets do this quick, I have a Banishing-¡± Barry looked at her, ¡°What? Angels are Outsiders too. He could be-¡± ¡°Angels announce themselves, Barry. What if he¡¯s a demon?¡± ¡°He helped us, and he¡¯s been knocked out for the last day!¡± ¡°And we don¡¯t know if he¡¯s planning something. Can you prove he doesn¡¯t mean harm?¡± ¡°Nico, Helen?¡± Nico had stepped closer, and was fishing through a bag at Barry¡¯s prompting. He turned to the knight. ¡°Fray, let us do this. We can banish him after if we need.¡± He then said an unlistenable garble of words, and Marc¡¯s wheelbarrow was grabbed by newly formed, and quickly hardening mud. The other two stepped back and seemed to be continuing their argument, though far quieter. At the very least, they weren¡¯t trying to overpower the other¡¯s words. Helen calmly took out a dagger, and walked over to Marc. Noticing his concern, she crouched down and said, ¡°I''m testing your blood. We¡¯ll know exactly what kind of outsider you are soon..¡± She cut into Marc''s shoulder, which stung way more than it looked like it should. Like the knife was pre-soaked in lemon juice. His blood started pooling up, but she wasn¡¯t doing anything with it just yet. Nico opened a bag and raised his hand over it, when a small leather bundle popped out. He unrolled it, revealing a number of simple metal tools and bottles. They didn''t look any more complex than butter knives, but given the magic Marc had seen in his last waking hour, he could only guess what they did. He handed three to Helen, who brought them over to Marc again. She turned to the two embedded party members, ¡°Alright Fray, Barry, if the first one burns, he''s a demon. Solar Silver hurts all fiends except one small group, which number two checks, and then number three double checks if he''s an angel¡±. She smacked the fancy metal butterknife on Marc¡¯s face and held it there. It felt warm for metal, but not burning. ¡°Well, I''m not a demon¡± he said. The second was an exceedingly pale metal, and looked like it came straight from a refrigerator. He pulled a way a bit at the sudden cold, but let it sit against him for long enough to know he was certainly not a Demon. The third, seemingly some kind of wood, hit his face and had similar effects, namely, nothing. ¡°Or an angel.¡± At this point, Helen took a piece of paper and pushed it against his shoulder, allowing the blood to soak in and stain it. When the blood began moving in the paper, Marc''s eyes went wide. It took on a shape, an empty ring with wisping spirals reaching in towards the center. ¡°Alright, that''s. . .the Esoteric symbol I think, right Nico?¡± ¡°I think so. Its not any that I recognize, so not Profane.¡± Fray spoke from several feet away, ¡°What is an Esoteric Outsider doing here?¡± Barry asked, ¡°Does it matter? And what even is an Esoteric Outsider?¡± They all looked to Marc as he tried to shrug, but the now solid mud prevented movement. ¡°You all have a better guess than I. Last thing I remember was visiting my sister''s house for dinner and getting back home past midnight. I don¡¯t even know what an Outsider is.¡± Helen and Nico started speaking to each other in a quick back and forth, backs turned to the other three. ¡°So are you thinking. . ?¡± ¡°Helen, they''re fake. Like Psychics¡± ¡°Well he''s not part of the Dominion.¡± ¡°Surely there''s more than those options¡± ¡°Nicolas, I''m a skeptic too, but just because they''re stories doesn''t mean they''re fake¡± ¡°And just because they''re popular doesn''t mean they''re real. He could be. . .¡± Nico trailed off. Barry and Fray were wondering what they were saying, telling each other that they should learn the language too. Marc asked them what they meant, before being told they were speaking Elvish, that neither of the other two knew. It also connected some dots: Nico was an Elf. ¡°They''re talking the same language as before though?¡± It sounded the same to Marc. He figured that other languages would still sound different, even with his Outsider boon. The two speaking said other language heard what was being discussed, and looked at the three. Helen nodded towards Nico, who sighed. He once more said the not-words that seemed to signify a spell. The mud grabbing his wheelbarrow became liquid once more and let go of him. Helen, then, walked up to him and handcuffed him to said wheelbarrow. ¡°Here¡¯s the compromise. We can¡¯t prove anything, but if we get back to Grand Vale, the Slayer¡¯s Society has more information. I have a friend there that knows a whole lot more about the Esoteric than we do, and can do a ritual. In return, Fray, don¡¯t kill Guy until we get there, yeah?¡± When the two remaining members agreed, Barry walked around to the handles and picked them up. Fray pulled out a rusty coin, and looked to Helen for approval. When she got it, she tossed it onto Marc¡¯s chest, which he barely felt. When he didn¡¯t react, she shrugged, and Helen walked to the front of the group. She¡¯d be following behind the party, watching Marc for the rest of the journey. Chapter 4: The Trail to Grand Vale After about an hour of walking with the four not taking a single break, they went from dirt path to cobbled road. By this time, Marc had a lot of questions, more than he could really put into words. Eventually, he decided that, if this was going to be his last day alive, he mind as well sate his curiosity. ¡°Hey, where did my bag go?¡± Marc blurted out the first question that came to mind. Barry was the one who answered, ¡°It¡¯s in my pack with most of my ritual ingredients.¡± ¡°It fits?¡± ¡°Well, yeah. It¡¯s a Vracht Pack. It can hold something like 60 gallons of water. It¡¯d leak a bit if you filled it all the way though.¡± That. . . didn¡¯t make sense. Though he was not the most mathematically inclined, he was pretty sure that 1 gallon of water was a bit shy of 10 pounds. That meant that Barry had a pack that could carry nearly 600 pounds of water while only leaking a bit. And even then, he was pretty sure it would be massive. While Barry was wearing his loose sack-cloak, there was no way he had a bag that size. Barry then proceeded to take a small drawstring pouch from his waist. It looked like it could hold a fist and a half worth of stuff, ¡°This here. You¡¯ll get your stuff back as long as you aren¡¯t an Esoteric Demon.¡± Ah, perfect, a magic bag. H e should have figured. Fray then interjected, ¡°Demons are always Divine, specifically Profane.¡± Helen called out, ¡°He could be an Escha, they can be Esoteric.¡± He was familiar with the concept of Demons, but not an Eska. This was the first time he had heard a word entirely foreign to him, besides the spells which he didn¡¯t count. Marc decided to ask, ¡°What is an Eska?¡± It was Nico who responded from in front, though he took a few steps back to be heard better, ¡°Escha are the enemies of Archontes. The apocalypse cult ones. He isn¡¯t an Escha.¡± Nico seemed to prioritize quick answers, but apocalypse cult told Marc all he needed to know. And thankfully, Nico knew something that disqualified Marc from being one of them. Marc thought for a moment, before deciding on his next question, ¡°So, what is with the whole ¡®Daughter of Fray¡¯ thing? Is it religious?¡± If he was correct, then he was basically dealing with a zealot, and could at least somewhat understand the hostility. Fray gained a look of pride, happy to tell the tale ¡°At the beginning of the last age, a man named Fray rose above his cohorts to the highest of echelons. He became the War Master, a soldier without equal, a general without peer.¡± She looked Marc straight in the eyes, her conviction gleaming through. ¡°He led the Sage Lands against the Skyblight Raxxivar, and upon returning home, united the 4 Clans under him in the new land of Fray. He would be alive today, but for the Winter Court.¡± Her voice and eyes gained a new venom. She distrusted Marc, but she hated the Winter Court. ¡°They deceived Fray¡¯s youngest child, his only son. They stole the boy¡¯s true name. With that, they had power over him. He was taken into Tirnanog, and Fray charged after him, never to return. His only surviving family were his daughters.Since that day, no child of Fray tells their true name to any.¡± It was like a folk tale, but more. . . mythic in feel. Like the Iliad for Greece, this was her nation¡¯s origin story. It may not have been religious, but Fray believed it like it was. After getting that answer, Marc was unsure if he wanted to ask any more questions, but thought one more would be acceptable. ¡°Hey Nico?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°You¡¯re an. . .elf?¡± ¡°Cavern elf. From Trinity City. The city below, specific¡± He confirmed. Barry picked up the conversation from there. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Me and Fray are from up here. My father is the Hierophant further north, at Mystle Academy. Fray is from Iron Mountain if I remember correctly, right?¡± She nodded. ¡°Then Nico and Helen are from Trinity City, way far south.¡± ¡°Thanks Barry.¡± ¡°Sure thing!¡± Marc was starting to get a mental map of this place in his head. He¡¯d accepted that he was in some fantasy world, or Realm if you will, and that if this was all fake, he was probably in a mental hospital ranting to invisible monsters. Or it was a dream. Whichever it was, this was his reality now. They continued in silence. About a half hour later, as they were passing a large wooded hill, Barry asked him a question, ¡°Hey Guy, where are you from?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m from the state of Pennsylvania, right on the border with New York.¡± ¡°Wow! I don''t know what either of those are. Other planes must be interesting.¡± Barry¡¯s response had basically confirmed his thought from before. If he hadn''t already seen magic, he¡¯d assume these people were just high-effort LARPers. Nico decided to join in, ¡°Outside Planes are hard to live in. For us,¡± the last part directed at Marc. ¡°Pennsylvania is pretty similar to this all things considered. No monsters, at least nothing like that spider though.¡± ¡°Any Elves there?¡± Nico asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never met an elf before you.¡± Nico nodded, looking somewhat disappointed. ¡°So, what does being a. . . Sapper? What does that mean?¡± ¡°Its a second echelon class, comes from alchemist and rogue. I started as an alchemist, and Fray bought me a rogue Historia when she hired me. I can use earth magic to make tunnels. I can also take down structures a lot easier if I need it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a Historia? And Echelon?¡± Barry looked back at him with incredulity for a moment but stumbled a bit and looked forward again. He was still dragging Marc¡¯s wheelbarrow behind him. Fray sighed. Marc hoped that meant she realized he wasn¡¯t what she thought, but it probably meant she thought he was a bad actor. ¡°Um. I haven¡¯t had to describe this before. They¡¯re the crystal you used to get your class.¡± ¡°I just woke up with it. The Wanderer class.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I''ve ever heard of someone getting a historia in their sleep, but maybe if one manifested on you? Echelon is a measure of progress. Each Echelon upgrades your class from before, based on how you used it and what Historia you¡¯ve invested in. You must have been from a very isolated plane to not know this stuff.¡± Nico turned to Barry, ¡°Or Outside Planes have different words for them. Most Outsiders have some translation skill on any plane except their home.¡± Marc shrugged, cringing at the pain it caused. Whatever the answer was, he didn¡¯t know it.
They continued moving for a few hours. Barry was reliably pulling Marc along, but didn¡¯t seem to realize that the wheelbarrow bouncing up and down made Marc feel far worse. Helen notified everyone that it was just past noon, and they pulled off the road to a small flat area, where they sat down. Barry used the knife Marc had seen before and another tool, now clearly some kind of flint wand, to create a bonfire. Here, Barry told Marc that he was the one that healed him from his near death, and tried to cast his healing spell again. Nico took out a number of herbs and began chopping them up on a table Helen had magically grown from the ground, while the hunter herself had pulled out a seemingly fresh Jackalope. Yes, apparently Jackalopes were real here, and were commonly used for food. It helped that they seemed to come up to waist height, with their antlers easily being chest level with Marc. Throughout this, Fray was off to the other side of the road, seemingly practicing. At the start, she had drawn her knife across the lower part of her palm, before using some kind of magic to summon the armor Marc had seen her using before. With it came two one-handed axes, and a larger two-hander. The title of Blood Knight made a lot of sense very quickly. Marc apologized that he couldn''t do much, but Barry and Helen had assured him that he was fine. The former told him that his health was critical and he was wounded, while the latter said that he was their prisoner and she¡¯d rather not risk him poisoning their food. When he tried to assure her that he wouldn¡¯t, she said that it wasn¡¯t the attempt to kill her that bothered her, it would be the fact it made the meal taste worse. The Jackalope Roast tasted like a mix of venison and, oddly, cod. It was surprisingly well made, and if it was on the menu at a restaurant Marc would definitely order it again. The fact that Marc was even given a portion was somewhat surprising to him. After their lunch, the group of 4 and their prisoner continued. Marc learned that Grand Vale was the largest city within the forest. It was atop Orchard Hill, and in the valley of a mountain range called the Waold by the Dryads. The Dryads of the area were actually friendly, apparently a rarity, and the city¡¯s monarch was an Elder Dryad. When the rest of the three chimed out in excitement, Marc wished he could turn around. Another thing caught his eyes though, as a tablet appeared in front of him. YOU HAVE TRAVELED FAR AND WIDE. YOU GAIN 1 INSTANCE OF {SIGHTSEEKER} Marc was grinning as they walked through the gates of Grand Vale, once more in society. Chapter 5: The City of Dryads The streets of Grand Vale were smooth. That was the first thing Marc, or rather his chest, noticed. After asking, he learned it was some kind of magical wood that dryads could move across normally, removing a restriction they generally had. It was also, as Nico pointed out, fireproof. The second thing was that the houses were tall, almost all of them three stories tall or more, and with sharp sloping roofs. Their doors were a solid 2 feet taller and twice as wide as normal. They were moving straight to the Slayers¡¯s Society, of which Helen was a member. Apparently, Nico was a member of the Alchemists¡¯s Guild, and Barry was more or less born into the House of Quills, which was a magical organization. He didn¡¯t know what Fray was part of since no one offered. Here in the Sage Lands, all three were closely tied, but the House of Quills was local only, and the Alchemists were rivals of the Slayers in Trinity City. All of the different factions, though, were part of the broader Society of Adventurers. There were agreements and rules to be followed to be a member, no matter which you were in. Though in certain places like the ¡°Mortocracy of Visica¡±, some rules were bent. Marc really didn¡¯t want to visit anything called a Mortocracy. People looked at them strangely. Probably because of the man handcuffed and carried inside a wheelbarrow. Still, just from his point of view Marc saw that he was in a capital-r Realm. Humans were common, but there were also several Elves walking around with paper white skin, the occasional wood-armored Dryad with their heavy steps, and a few exceedingly tall humanoids with moose heads, though he hadn''t seen any with antlers yet. The latter two explained the size of the doors. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Nico said. They rolled through the door, Barry having moved the wheelbarrow to be in front of him, and a veteran looking man was at the front desk. ¡°What in. . . Oh it''s you four. Didja kidnap summun on the road?¡± Helen responded, ¡°Hey Berk, no, we found a weird Outsider. Need to figure out what kind.¡± ¡°Outsiders is bad news¡± Barry defended them, ¡°Angels are outsiders¡± Berk turned to Barry, ¡°My poin¡¯ ¡®xactly. Take ¡®im to room two, I''ll send Jacky in after.¡± Barry pushed the wheelbarrow into room two, as Helen told Barry to not bother with Berk, ¡°He''s been here longer than you''ve been alive, and not once in the years I''ve known him has he changed his mind.¡± The other 4 sat down in chairs within the room that Fray picked up as they were moving through the general area. It was a dark gray stone on all sides, with no airflow once the door closed. There was a large stone slab raised up in the center. ¡°So, what now?¡± Nico answered, ¡°We wait for- ¡± a dryad walked through the door. Not opened the door, just walked through it like it wasn''t there, ¡°-her.¡± Jacky was a Dryad. She was shorter than Marc, and unlike the dryads on the street she didn''t wear wooden armor, only a dress of woven grasses. Orange eyes looked at him with curiosity, and her hair was a collection of braided vines. She carried in hand a metal staff, and as she walked further into the room one of her hair-vines tethered itself to the wooden door. ¡°Helen! I hope the delve went well!¡± She said with a high pitched voice. Helen smiled back. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°We aren''t dead yet, yeah? Anyways, we can catch up after getting Guy taken care of.¡± The dryad nodded to her friend, and turned again to Marc. Nico gave her the information they already had as Jacky began circling the room, using her metal staff as an oversized stick of chalk. The slab had the Esoteric symbol drawn on it, while each of the walls and much of the ground had their own, different symbols. They were far more complicated than Marc could remember, and it wasn''t like he could do magic anyways. Eventually, she was done, and asked for them to get to the four corners of the room as to not interfere with the ritual, and unlocked Marc. Barry and Fray lifted him onto the slab and returned to their corners. It was still painful, but at this point in the day he was more or less used to it. As her chant began, Marc felt the magic wash over him. Barry''s healing spell, the only one Marc had experienced so far, was like the heat from a fire. Maybe a bit too close, but familiar and warm. This felt like a buzzing all over him, like he was being swarmed by hundreds of insects. Friendly ones, but the feeling still caused Marc to tense. He¡¯d never been great around insects, and tended to cringe away whenever there was buzzing too close to his ears. Here, however, he was forced to get used to it. The ritual lasted 10 minutes by his guess, and Marc was uncomfortable for every second of it. At the end though, he saw a scroll of paper had fallen out of the slab he was on. Apparently, the magical MRI doubled as a printer. More reliable than any of the ones he¡¯d ever used, at that. He decided to lay there for a moment, as Jacky reached down and grabbed the scroll. She began reading off, ¡°Ok, his subrace is. . . Farlander? Isn¡¯t that the ones that are from outside the Boundary?¡± Helen turned to Nico with the biggest grin Marc had ever seen. Nico reached into his bag and started counting out coin. Without waiting for an answer, Jacky continued, ¡°Class is Wanderer, Level 5, Echelon 1, really good Resilience for where he is. His Might is also pretty high. Naturally attuned to Esoteric power, and. . . he¡¯s at critical health with 9 broken ribs.¡± That explained a lot. The party''s eyes widened.
After getting the report, which Marc was given a copy of (the magic MRI-slash-printer tripled as a copier), the group brought Marc out into the main area of the Slayers¡¯s Society, and Fray volunteered to go and grab a healer from somewhere, Helen got their reward for the mission they had actually been out on before encountering the Spider. Her and Jacky were close friends, and discussed what each had been doing recently. While waiting, Marc watched the people within the building. There were more humans and dryads than elves here. Heck, even those Moose-people were more populous than Elves. After asking Nico, who was making some potion on the table, Marc learned that most Elves didn¡¯t become adventurers, let alone Slayers. Barry had gone to the House of Quills to contact his father a few towns over, and hadn''t yet returned when Fray did with the healer, an elf with fully silver hair. Like the other elves within the city, he had incredibly pale skin, to the point it would be unhealthy in humans. Marc wondered if he had some kind of cataracts with how white his eyes were, before the potion Nico was making was pushed into his hands. ¡°Drink, you¡¯ll need it¡±, the younger elf said. Marc did as he was told, and the elder began casting a spell on him once he had finished. Whereas Barry¡¯s had felt like a campfire and Jacky¡¯s a swarm of bugs, this spell had the same sensation as his leg falling asleep, but applied to his entire body. Or, rather, Nico''s potion did. He could feel, vaguely, things in his chest moving around and did his best to not pay attention to it. The pins and needles feeling went from his skin all the way to where his nerves stopped, and Marc was very, very glad that Nico had given him the potion. If it felt like this with it, he could only imagine what it felt like without. After another irritating minute, the shifting and tingling sensation wore off, and the healer wished Marc well before turning and immediately leaving. It was past sundown, and Marc was exhausted despite spending yesterday asleep and today in a wheelbarrow. YOU HAVE BEEN CURED OF {WOUNDED} Dismissing the tablet, he walked towards the front desk. After talking with Berk, he was allowed to stay the night since Helen was a member of the society, but would need to either join or start working for them in order to earn another night. Marc looked up at the ceiling, wondering what the next day would hold for him. He¡¯d been conscious for maybe 8 hours total. One single workday, and his entire perspective had been flipped on its head. He shut his eyes and lay on his side. Just before he could drift off to sleep however, he remembered something. ¡°Barry still has my bag¡±. Chapter 6: Sightseeking Marc had nightmares of the spider, and of falling. He found reprieve being woken up to the sounds of people downstairs. All things considered, he¡¯d put it slightly under being unconscious for a day. When Marc looked around the room he was in, basking in his lack of possessions. ¡°Vow of Poverty succeeded, I guess¡± he muttered to himself. The fact his clothing was somehow neither reeking of body odor nor filthy with road grime and mud was a miracle. Or magic. Now that he thought about it, he hoped it was magic, because he had no idea how he would wash his stuff here without constant miracles. Marc walked down the stairs, turned his key in, looked into the main room. The first floor of the Slayers¡¯s Society was a massive feasting hall crossed with a trophy room, and was pretty rowdy late into the night. It didn¡¯t help that the place doubled as a semi¨Cexclusive tavern full of people with freshly earned money.. The person replacing Berk was far kinder in general, one of those Moose People he¡¯d been seeing around. Marc made for the door, but was called by someone. ¡°Hey, wait!¡± he turned around to see Jacky, the dryad from the day before rushing over to him. Dryads, Marc had been told, needed to move with an odd gait. They couldn''t ever be completely disconnected from living wood, or they''d start suffocating. That made them basically unable to run. She eventually got next to him, ¡°I¡¯ll show you around!¡± Not wanting to be a burden, Marc refused, ¡°You don''t need to. I should be able to find my way on my own. Thanks, though.¡± She was insistent though, ¡°You don''t know the city, and any weird magic you give off I can explain.¡± He didn''t really have a good response to that, so she walked alongside him. Jacky, of all of the Dryads he had seen, was one of very few to not wear armor. Because of the way they moved, many doubled down, deciding that their speed wouldn''t matter if they were protected enough. Instead, Jacky used her woven grass dress to hover over the ground a few inches, the blades of her grass dress moving like the legs of a centipede. She wasn¡¯t agile, but she could also move at a walking pace alongside Marc. The streets were bustling with life and movement. Jacky told him that, in case they got split up, he should stick around the adventurer areas, called the Traveler Ward. According to Nico, adventuring was far nicer in Grand Vale than Trinity City. Grand Vale, despite its forested nature, was a city more defined by its hills. There were many of them, and streets tended to run up or across them, rather than diagonally. Marc had never been, but he imagined San Francisco looked something like it from the pictures he¡¯d seen. The Traveler Ward was about halfway up from the bottom of the city. Said bottom, the Riverside, was unsurprisingly the most dangerous part of town. There was a Thief''s Guild called The Root down there, which was stood out as odd to Marc. ¡°Why would a city allow a Thief''s Guild? Wouldn''t everyone know they''re all, y¡¯know, thieves?¡± Jacky shook her head, ¡°Not exactly. Think of it this way; The queen can''t stamp out crime. No one can. The Root is protection both ways. They get lesser punishments, typically a fine, for most petty crimes. And the city gets a group of people really intent on monitoring all outside criminals.¡± The logic made sense to Marc, but he was sure someone could poke holes in it. ¡°Besides, the Root is led by one of the Queen''s family members¡±. And that explained the rest of it. Good old nepotism. Jacky continued pointing out the buildings they saw. She was a member of the Slayers¡¯s Society, but the Alchemists¡¯s Guild was just across the road. Jacky had told Marc that they should get Marc signed up at the Adventurer¡¯s guild, so they were headed that way, towards the Traveler Ward market square. Passing by were the Hall of Glory, an arena-style organization, the Temple of Allfaith, a place for basically every religious adventurer, and then the House of Quills. Barry was inside, and from what Marc knew, and what Jacky said, they were a group only in the Sage Lands that focused on the recording and preservation of magical information above all. Marc popped inside, asked for Barry, and finally retrieved his bag. Once it was on his back, he concentrated to bring his inventory back up. It seemed that the system he used, whatever it was, didn¡¯t give notifications about items being gained or lost, only destroyed. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. INVENTORY Wanderer¡¯s Armor (Cloth, Mundane) Outsider¡¯s Locus (Container, Esoteric) Potion of Past Steps (Healing, Consumable, Esoteric, E1/L1) x3 Attunement Lozenge (Consumable, Esoteric) x10 Constellation Dagger (Iron, Esoteric, E1/L1) Jacky waited outside, and was talking to one of the other adventurers, one of the Moose-people. Marc walked up, and Jacky introduced the two, ¡°Oh, Arwa, this is the personI was telling you about,¡± she turned to Marc, ¡°and this is Arwa, an Icess. You probably don¡¯t have them where you¡¯re from, no?¡± He shook his head in agreement. Arwa reached out a hand, and a low, resonant voice came out of the Icess, ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you. Arwa, Green Knight, Glorifier.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Marc asked while shaking his hand. ¡°Glorifier. I fight in the Hall of Glory.¡± ¡°Ah, sorry I''m-¡± Marc was cut off ¡°Not from around here, no worries. Enjoy the city while you are visiting.¡± Arwa left with a chuckle. Marc wasn''t sure if he liked being a novelty, but it was better than being a potential execution candidate. ¡°Hey Jacky?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Is the plural of Icess also Icess?¡± ¡°How''d you know?¡±
As they walked to the market, Jacky was telling Marc a lot of things. Some of it very elementary and thankfully identical to what he went through on Earth (apparently the Water Cycle was Dryad secret science). Others were useful and basic to anyone growing up in this world, like how Historia, classes, and levels worked. Historia are, more or less, a magical crystallization. ¡°Of what¡± was apparently hotly debated, but Jacky believed it was a location''s memories of a hero''s great deed in the past. They could be found at the sites of past battles. There were some rare places where they could be found consistently, and those became heavily guarded Historia farms. What counted as a great deed was less assured, since Chef''s Historia existed and Marc couldn''t see Dwarven Ramsay cooking a Dragon to death. Each person was born ¡°unclassed¡± and most people lived their lives happily without. If they got one though, their first Echelon class was always that of their first Historia. From there it depended on the person and what they found. For example, both Barry and Jacky started as Shamans, but Barry became a Pyromancer with his focus on damaging fire spells. Jacky, meanwhile, was more than likely going to become a Sage when her Echelon increased to two, given her own focus on healing. Levels were easy. When you did things your class wanted you to do, you gained levels and stats to match. By now, Marc had long since accepted that asking questions was going to be the only way he figured out how this world worked. It was a lot harder playing a game if you don''t know the mechanics. ¡°Why? Levels, I mean. Why do they. . .exist?¡± Marc asked for probably the 20th time today. ¡°Well, you''re a location, aren''t you? Why couldn''t the Historia you''ve already gotten grow stronger from your own experiences?¡± They looked into the market square, and across the large courtyard stood one of the tallest buildings in the city. The Society of Adventurers.
When the Second entered its perception, the Fourth knew something had happened in the world. Locked in its meditation, the Fourth could be aware of just about everything that happened everywhere, but it chose not to, allowing the world to stay its course without interference. The Second, always one to speak first (and last if it could help it) said, ¡°Another has entered.¡± The Fourth, always one to ask questions, replied, ¡°And this one is different from the others?¡± ¡°They are always different.¡± ¡°But does this difference mean anything?¡± The Second had a look of disdain in its aura. The two were not really there, instead projecting their souls deep into the ground. ¡°This other is in your territory.¡± ¡°Do you not trust me to handle such things?¡± ¡°You are summoned to the rest. Under the next solstice.¡± ¡°Do you mean the equinox? That comes sooner.¡± ¡°No.¡± An answer to both questions at the same time. The Second had been spending time with the Ninth. The Second and Fourth had never truly seen eye to eye. They had fundamentally different ideals of what Magic is and could be. The Second must Know. The Fourth must Understand. Thankfully, the Fourth would not object to the summons. Despite its belligerence, it could agree to the importance of the event. ¡°Very well. Tell the First, and the rest while you¡¯re at it.¡± The Second nodded, ¡°Of course I will¡±, before its soul projection dissipated. With any luck, this one would be like the many others before it. But the Fourth had nearly two seasons to get ready for the meeting. It let its perception expand outwards through a pulse of Primal magic. Chapter 7: The Glory of Knights Jacky and Marc walked through the imposing front doors of the Admin Building. Most people who became adventurers joined through one of its constituent organizations. Jacky and Helen as Slayers, Nico as an Alchemist, and Barry through the House of Quills. The entrance of the Admin Building was surprisingly a lot less impressive than the face of the building. It was more or less a 12-foot cube, with the four walls containing doors or the front desk, similar to a bank teller¡¯s desk. It was tended by an elf with one eye. There were a solid 6 people in line before him, and it seemed to be moving very slowly. Eventually, after nearly 30 minutes and a lot of sorting through by the singular languid elf, Marc and Jacky got to the front of the line. All of the people before, except one, was sent into the door to the left, and the line behind them had filled in. ¡°Appointment, dispute, or payout?¡± he asked, not looking up from the book he was reading. Jacky said, ¡°Signup¡± The elf then looked up, studying the two. He pointed to the door to Marc¡¯s right, ¡°Through there¡± Marc and Jacky thanked him, finding a nearly identical looking room through the door.The human at the desk was writing something, and didn¡¯t even look up at them entering. The person before them was sent in here. Upon seeing them enter, the human asked ¡°Are both of you signing up?¡± Marc replied, ¡°No, just me.¡± The receptionist opened a drawer, and pulled a scroll out. It was oddly reminiscent of the DMV, though the shorter lines certainly made it better, at least a bit. ¡°Just fill these forms out, and hand them back. Some answers might cause more questions to pop up, so double check before you give it back to me or I¡¯m gonna have to chase you.¡± Definitely like the DMV.
Fray sat in the Hall of Glory. She wanted to clear her head, and the focus of single combat was the best way she knew how. For now, she flicked her wrist, and her two enchanted rings changed their form. One into a small, but thick, iron card, and one into the dagger her brother gave her. ¡ª---¡ª----- BLOOD KNIGHT Level 2 Echelon 3 The class stared back at her. Her new class. One that would last her most of her career. She smiled. As with everything that magically displayed her name, she gouged that part out. The Master of Ceremonies, a massive Dryad, turned to her, ¡°It''s time.¡± Fray and Arwa, the Green Knight, rose. Fray took the dagger and poked it into her thumb. Her most recent Historia was a Shaman''s, giving her magic. While normally she might become a Green Knight like the Icess she was about to fight, it seemed fate had different plans for her. The boon she got from it was not primal magic, but blood magic. The two walked down different hallways, to come out opposing sides of the small arena. She incanted, summoning her armor and axes onto her. Each time she cast a spell, there had to be some amount of blood used as material, but with practice she¡¯d been able to reduce the amount needed. She walked onto the solid wooden floor, a number of bloodstains surrounding the two of them. The Glorykeeper, Master of the Hall, announced to the gathered crowd, but by now Fray''s attention was only on Arwa, separated by a thin veil. She focused on his armor, his tower shield, his razor sharp spear. Visualizing the one handed axes moving into her hands, they responded. She grabbed them, feeling their not-yet familiar handles. The smell of blood filled her nostrils. The sound of the outside world faded away. She could taste the salt of the air. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The veil dropped, and the two knights charged. Arwa''s shield was out in front, ready to block anything Fray threw at it. Fray, knowing this, barely tapped it with her right axe, before smashing it with her left axe. The result was the shield twisted in Arwa''s grip. He stabbed his spear out, forcing Fray to step, but she had the momentum. Moving her grip up the right axe, she punched at Arwa''s body, but only managed to scratch a plane of armor. His shield, now recovered, smashed against her wrist, and she almost dropped the axe. Instead, she used her magic to reform her armor, losing a leg''s protection but creating a massive spike that did score first blood. Arwa took a step back, as did Fray. They assessed their wounds, and she noticed her right hand was weakened from the shield bash. ¡°Must be a boon of his¡± she thought. She''d never fought Arwa before, and discovering these things was part of being a challenger. But that cut both ways, with Arwa now injured by her shifting armor. The Icess didn¡¯t know what she could do to open wounds. Deciding to leave it a secret for just a bit longer, she flung the right-hand axe towards his head. The magic of the arena was currently preventing any lethal damage, but that didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t aim for lethal hits. He moved his head to the side, but like with many Icess, his neck was a large target as well. Another shallow wound opened up. She willed the two-handed axe to her grasp, preparing for the next clash. As she charged, shoulder first, she once more manipulated her armor, reducing the entire back half of the armor to thin chains, while the front thickened. Arwa was going to try to skewer her with his spear, so her only goal was to make that as useless as possible. It succeeded, as he was instead forced to try and counter her charge with his shield. As a Green Knight, and a higher level one at that, his Might was bound to be higher, as was his resilience. She had momentum and aggression on her side, and was hoping it would be enough to match forces. As her shoulder slammed into the shield, she felt it shift slightly. Bringing her axe around it, she delivered a quick slash at his leg. Just barely, she scored her third cut against the Icess before he used his own boon to launch her away with the shield. She felt the same lasting weakness cover her entirely. The two were as far apart as the arena would let them be. He raised his shield, slamming it down to the ground with a single word of incantation. From the floor, the walls, even the discarded veil, grew thick thorny vines that moved with the intent to entangle and shred through her armor. As a Green Knight, Arwa could manipulate nature through his primal magic. It was an incredibly common class in the Sage Lands, where Shaman¡¯s Historia were plentiful for any Warrior to take up. Fray had observed him before. She knew that Arwa used this to force aggressive opponents to take heavy wounds in an attempt to defeat him before he could heal, while more defensive opponents would be overwhelmed by the briars. She, however, had the perfect counter. She reached out to the open wounds she had inflicted on Arwa. ¡°Blood of My Enemy, Approach¡± she said. She¡¯d known that incantations had meaning before, but actually recognizing them was still new. The spell¡¯s effect was simple, pulling a person who was either covered with blood, or a person who was actively bleeding, towards Fray. Unfortunately for Arwa, there were a lot of very sharp thorns between the two of them. The Icess was dragged through the trap that he himself had set. A moment and a seriously injured Arwa later, the arena¡¯s magical suppression activated. All magic within was dispelled, and all wounds were paused from bleeding. As the adrenaline faded, she once more registered the noise of the crowd. ¡°VICTOR! FRRRRAAAAAY!!!!!¡± The glory was hers.
The entire process was interminable. Over two hours had passed, and there was always another line to wait in (though thankfully there was almost nobody to wait behind), and more paperwork. When he finally got what he was told would be the last pile, he got to work. Amazingly, Jacky kept him company, though was clearly not the most excited to be waiting so long. She kept making comments about how it was so much easier with the Slayers, where you just signed up, were sent on a first hunt, and if you survived you were in. During the time, he¡¯d also made an acquaintance in Lloyd, a human rogue with no interest in joining the Root. Eventually, both of them walked up and turned their papers in. The person at the counter took Marc¡¯s papers first, checked them over, then Lloyd¡¯s. ¡°Alright, Lloyd, through that door to get your sigil. Marc, we need to get you ritualed and then we can get you yours.¡± Marc moved towards the door with Lloyd, but Jacky stopped him. The concern on her face was clear, despite the differences between (former) human and dryad. ¡°Huh? What''s up?¡± ¡°Your name. I thought it was Guy.¡± Marc replied in the most articulate manner he could achieve. ¡°Whuh?¡± Chapter 8: Normal is Relative Helen woke up before the sun. She stretched as she left her bed, and checked her things. Her party would be separate for most of today, a tradition easy to keep. She did consider all of them friends, her best friends even, but Quests always set nerves on edge. Being in life and death situations constantly tended to have that effect on them. Splitting up for one or more days was also a good way for each of them to unwind in their own ways. Helen''s was going out and hunting for food. While she was brought up in the metropolis of Trinity, she was made for the wilderness. It was meditative, even before she gained her class. She walked up to Geir, the snow elf Huntmaster in the Grand Vale Slayers''s hall. The two rarely talked outside of times like this, and Geir, like most of the city-bound staff, wasn¡¯t much in combat anymore. ¡°Morning Hel. Fun or coin?¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll take coin this time. I could use the extra.¡± ¡°Really? What are you saving for? You still have the deal with that Fray, right?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let something like that slip, but I¡¯ve had my eyes on a Chef¡¯s Historia.¡± Chef¡¯s Historia were almost always in incredibly high demand. Nobles wanted talented chefs for their staff, but beyond that, they were desirable for adventurers. They almost always either added monster loot collection to an existing boon, or granted a new boon for looting. Plus, being able to make good food wherever you were was an extra perk that everyone appreciated. ¡°Well, good luck finding one. You may have a better time going back to Trinity.¡± Different regions had different Historia in supply. A massive trade hup like Trinity City would have almost anything. Here, Shaman¡¯s and Brute¡¯s Historia were the most common, while Chef¡¯s, Craftsman¡¯s, and Scholar¡¯s Historia were far rarer. The latter almost all went to Mystle Academy anyways. Combined with the demand, and despite being months away by boat, traveling to Trinity and back might still be cheaper. ¡°I¡¯ll need it sooner or later. So, what¡¯s going bump in the night?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing much. There¡¯s some Bunnyhawk Hives popping up recently, and a Green Wurm around. I¡¯m hoping this isn¡¯t the lull, but it might be time.¡± ¡°I''ve fought enough monsters with massive stingers. I¡¯ll take the Wurm.¡± ¡°Alright. Just stamp your mark here, and here¡¯s the warrant. Happy trails, Hel.¡± ¡°You too Geir.¡± Bunnyhawks were massive, Jackalope-eating Wasps. Helen had never liked insectile monsters, but it was part of the job sometimes. That said, she loved a good Wurm hunt. Wurms were distantly related to Dragons, so she considered it good practice for her inevitable conflict with one. As she left the city, traveling into the hills to the northeast where the monster made its lair, she noticed that Geir was right. There was a distinct lack of monstrous creatures around. The Lull was a time of dramatically decreased Monster activity, caused by some kind of Magical tide-like behavior. The issue was that, immediately after the lull was the flood, which was the exact opposite. Not all monsters were affected, only the more magically attuned ones, but in certain areas it was a major issue. Here in the Sage Lands, the only monsters affected were Dire Animals as the Elementals were well contained by the Dryads and Mystle, and the dragons of this area were all in hiding. Ignoring the possibility of lesser monsters, she focused herself on the monster she was currently hunting. Helen looked down, and saw fresh tracks. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Barry was not enjoying his time between hunts. The only positive had been the warm bed. First, his running bet with Helen had resulted in him losing out almost 40 Leaves by this point. When he''d first gotten the Curate''s Historia from Fray, Helen and Barry made a bet: each time he used his new healing ability in combat, he owed one silver leaf. Each time he didn''t, she owed him one. He had used the spell in almost every encounter since. It would be a lot less annoying if everything he wanted to buy was about five leaves cheaper, and he regularly found himself just a bit shy. Second, the new Librarian of Grand Vale, the highest member in any given House of Quills, was unsuited to the job. In just 1 year, books had gone missing, funds were drained, and skill across the house was slowly rotting. Barry didn''t like to accuse people of nepotism given his own parentage, but in cases of an 89 year old elf making Librarian he couldn''t help it. Barry was 17, and from what he knew, he was, equivalently, older. And with Barry¡¯s father being the Hierophant, each and every word he wrote was put under the most prying lens possible, leading to him rewriting everything at least once, and on one occasion six entire times. At this point, Barry thought the librarian was doing it on purpose to spite him. Third, and most infuriating, was that he''d not be able to contact his parents during this stop. The Librarian, in his finite wisdom, had let the Missive Crystals crack from overuse. That meant an expensive repair, or a very annoying replacement. One or two Barry could forgive as simply being inexperienced or forgetful, but Grand Vale had a full seven, all of which were damaged. Barry was considering going to Nico as the Alchemists at least upkept their stuff. He also considered, not for the first time, buying his own Missive Crystal, but they were worth more than their weight in gold. And as a finishing touch, the Icess who was in the kitchen had made the driest, most inedible meal Barry had ever tasted. Barry regularly ate Jerky and Hard Tack on quests, and somehow this one meal had outdone rations.. He considered it a marvel and was a paragraph into a satirical report on the magical dryness of their meal before stopping himself and putting it aside. Oh, it would be finished at some point, but Barry could do that out in the field, away from prying eyes. Needless to say, Barry was frustrated. He busied himself with writing on Phoenix Flame, a contribution to the House''s single most important work: the Codex Vis. It was meant to be an encyclopedia of all spells in existence, but was barely branching out beyond the basic, echelon 1 spells. That Barry was adding an entirely common spell to it was somewhere between humbling and embarrassing, and he couldn¡¯t figure out which. Barry was hoping for a better meal today, and his stomach growled, before he smelled the exact same meal from yesterday below. Sighing, he stood up and gathered his things in his Vracht Pack. He would be visiting the Alchemists. He and his father were members of the House of Quills, but his mother was a Philosopher, and member of their guild. If he couldn''t reach his dad, Nico could help him reach his mom. He walked out of the House of Quills, and took the long and arduous 50-foot trek to the adjacent building.
Nico was sitting in a small laboratory he¡¯d rented for the day. Though an adventurer now, Nico was always more of a homebody. Nico wouldn¡¯t have turned the opportunity up for anything, but he was certainly missing the comfort of the City Beneath. Few Elves became adventurers, and Nico was likely not going to remain one for long. . . from his perspective at least. A few decades were nothing to him, being over 100 already. He was creating a potion, something fairly simple to get into the swing of things. The precise measurements and easy, step-by-step nature of alchemy is what led him to become an alchemist in the first place. That, and the fact his Uncle was one. His father was a Classed Craftsman as a glassblower, but it was his sister who shared that passion. Nico had no eye for art nor a mind for business. He was merely lucky that he knew how to craft the right thing when Fray came to town looking for recruits. The same thing he was making right now, in great doses. Nico was a Poisoner. Sure, he knew how to make everything from health and water breathing potions, to liquid fire and frost flasks. Every Alchemist knew that. But the one thing that his uncle had taught him, that no one else could, was poisons. Some were simple poisons. One for bloodthinning, allowing for Fray and Helen to deal extra damage over time. Others were more complicated, but in return more lethal. There was one that took three years to brew, but if ingested would make even a basic spell lethal to the poisoned. Thankfully, Fray had never asked him to use some of the more creative poisons that he knew how to. Instead, he was working on a far simpler recipe: Serpentbane Poison. Against anything except a serpent, it would cause a mild rash. Against a serpent, it caused extreme and sudden organ failure, dependant on his skill, and a bit on his focus. The next step was coming up. Nico was reading a letter hed gotten from his father in the dimly lit lab, while preparing the next ingredient, mongoose quills, when he heard a knocking at his door. Sighing, he checked the timing. It would take a few minutes before it was needed, so he checked the door. Barry was outside. Chapter 9: His Name Isn鈥檛 Guy? Marc followed the signup human, apparently named Jake, and Jacky followed behind. After confirming that his name is, in fact, not Guy, he asked her where she got that idea from. Apparently, Helen told people that he was called Guy. Which meant that he''d need to tell Barry, Nico, Fray. . . Helen herself, probably. Whatever, the thought. He was, officially, Marc now. They walked up to a large stone box that opened as Jake waved a hand. ¡°Just step on inside and we¡¯ll get you scanned up.¡± Marc did as was asked, putting his bag to the side. The door closed, and the inside of the box had a dim blue glow. He waited for the feeling of a spell being cast, but there was nothing Marc held his breath, bracing for the sensation. Then, the door opened, less than a minute later. ¡°Alright, you can step on out.¡± Jake handed Marc a small, approximately smartphone sized tablet of blueish stone. ¡°That¡¯s your Adventurer¡¯s Sigil. Most of our allies have a way of identifying themselves, but since you signed up with us, you get the brick. If you flick it in your hand it becomes a ring, then you can just flick it again to show it.¡± He looked down at the brick. MARCUS WANDERER Level 5 Echelon 1 ¡°Huh, neat. Can I get it to show anything else?¡± Jake reached out, took the stone tablet from Marc, and flipped it, before handing it back. ¡°It has two sides.¡± RESILIENCE - SUPERIOR FOCUS - MODERATE MIGHT - GREATER FINESSE - LESSER LUCK - INFERIOR Marc looked at it, then concentrated to resummon his own character sheet. NAME: Marcus H. Green RACE: Outsider CLASS: Wanderer LEVEL: 5/50 (23%) ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Superior ABILITIES: RSL - 23 FCS - 19 MGT - 17 (+4) FNS - 12 LCK - 6 ¡°Good to know¡±, he said, dismissing his own tablet. Looking around, he realized that no one else was waiting to get into the stone coffin. ¡°Hey, do other people need to use this?¡± ¡°Nah, we only do it for people with weird stuff in their forms. Wanderer isn¡¯t a known class, and Outsiders are generally issues around here.¡± There it was again. He¡¯d heard Outsiders were issues before, but he still didn''t really know what they were or why they were issues. Jake, at this point, continued, ¡°So, you have free run of the place, except the obvious stuff. You¡¯re new, so try and remember the rules.¡± He pointed off to the side, at a tapestry with the rules woven in. After this, he walked away.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Marc walked towards the tapestry. RULE 1 - DO NOT STEAL FROM OR ATTACK THE SOCIETY, ITS MEMBERS, OR ITS ALLIES RULE 2 - IF YOU CANNOT COMPLETE A MISSION, REPORT SO RULE 3 - DO NOT LIE TO THE SOCIETY ¡°Are these really all the rules?¡± He asked Jacky. ¡°No, but they are the important ones. Breaking any of these will get you thrown out.¡± Now, Marc was thinking about what to do from here. Despite being, technically, a member of the Adventurers, since he had not accomplished a certain level of mission, he couldn¡¯t get a room in the building for the night. At least, not a free one, and with Marc¡¯s current financial situation, namely, being flat broke. . . He really needed that room to be as cheap as possible. Luckily, he could start going on Open Hunts, which were identical to hunting culls back home. And they paid. He saw Lloyd walking over to them, the Human they¡¯d made something of a friendship with in the waiting period. ¡°Heya both, got Marc scanned? By the way, what does the Wanderer do anyways?¡± Marc resisted facepalming, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Same with how I don''t know what Farlanders do in general.¡± Jacky looked at Lloyd, ¡°That¡¯s a good part of the reason I¡¯m sticking around today actually. I want to study that. There¡¯s a lot of questions and no answers. I think Wanderer might just be something that happens at the boundary, and since he¡¯s a Farlander, he¡¯d need to go through to be here.¡± Lloyd nodded along, eyes glazed over at this talk. ¡°Yeah, sounds right. Anyways, Marc do you have any idea what you want to do for your first quest?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the qualifying thing?¡± ¡°Yep! I saw there was a Bunneyhawk nest that was growing out of control. How does that sound?¡± ¡°You''re asking me to join you?¡± Excitedly, Lloyd nodded, ¡°Yeah, might as well since we''re both similar levels. Marc recalled hearing about these things, ¡°Aren¡¯t Bunnyhawks massive bees?¡± ¡°Wasps, yeah!¡± ¡°I think I''ve encountered enough giant insects to last a lifetime.¡± He shook his head. He had been asleep properly for exactly one night and already he was tired of the nightmares involving the spider. ¡°You''ll have to fight some eventually,, but alright. . .¡± Lloyd trailed off. Marc decided to interject here. ¡°You can go on things without me you know. If you want to take care of the wasps, feel free.¡± ¡°Well, it''s mostly that I¡¯m not exactly the most hardy of fellas, so I''d rather have at least one other person to share the enemies with.¡± AKA he wanted a meat shield. Or a Tank, going by RPG terms. Lloyd seemed like a fine person, but Rogues tended to have some ulterior motive. At heart his was obvious here. Jacky smiled, ¡°You two realize you can just go out open hunting. There¡¯s what, three phases to joining the Society?¡± There were. Marc had been told that once he signed up, he got his sigil, basically proving that he went through the paperwork, but in order to actually get any benefits they had to do a first Hunt. This let them stay the night in almost any Society building, though spots were somewhat limited. From there, in order to actually become a fully fledged member, there was a semi-secretive test they had to pass. That would take them months to get to though. It was recommended that they were at least level 20 or even Echelon 2 before taking the test. ¡°Well, what do you say Marc? A spot of hunting? I saw there was an active hunt going out for some Spine Deer.¡± Spine Deer were basically normal deer, like the kind Mac¡¯s father hunted when he was a child, but when flicking their neck they could shoot sharp spines from their antlers. ¡°I suppose so. We¡¯ll need to be careful though, since I don¡¯t think we have the money for potions.¡± Looking for confirmation, Lloyd shook his head no. Jacky got a mischievous grin, ¡°Well, if only you knew a healer who was willing to go slaying with some new adventurers like yourselves.¡± Marc started to thank her, but Lloyd seemed to have one last question, ¡° What¡¯s the catch?¡± She pretend-shrugged as if there was nothing she could do, ¡° All I''d need is a certain Farlander to let me record his boons in action.¡± Marc gave a withering look to her, but couldn''t suppress his smile for long. He had a Party. A real, RPG party. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±
The three made their way back to the Slayers''s Hall. While Marc certainly had nothing besides the bag on his back, Jacky did. She apparently had armor she wore outside of the city. Jacky also promised the two she''d pay for their dinner, which had Marc agreeing. Lloyd, Marc noticed, was eager to agree to basically anything. They walked in, and saw Fray, Barry, and Nico were sitting down at a table themselves. How they got in without Helen, the only actual slayer of the group, Marc didn¡¯t know, but he didn¡¯t want to question it too much. There were a number of bottles on the table. Not for beer, but the exact kind that Nico used for his Alchemist stuff. Fray looked over them with a somewhat scary grin. Barry waved them over, and they joined. Most of the chairs and tables here had some kind of thin stone or enamel coating since dryads tended to be able to move through other things, as Marc saw yesterday with the door. Hearing this, of course, only brought a new slew of questions to Marc on the ethics of carpentry in a nation where there were people who were trees, but he ignored those for now. ¡°Hey, you made it back!¡± Barry said. Fray, at this point looked at the two, but Marc noticed that she had none of the distrust or malice she did yesterday. Yesterday, so much had changed. ¡°Yep! This is Lloyd¡±, the man in question said hello, ¡°And I¡¯m all signed up for being an adventurer.¡± Fray turned to him, ¡°Oh? Show us your brick!¡± He flicked his wrist, and handed over the blue stone tablet. Fray did the same motion, and put her own iron tablet next to his. ¡°Hey, Guy, what level did you start at with that Spider?¡± Fray asked. ¡°I was Level 1.¡± Nico¡¯s eyes went wide, ¡°You were lucky to survive the fight. And the fall.¡± Barry pointed to his name, ¡°Hey, your name here is wrong.¡± Jacky nudged Marc¡¯s arm, ¡°Tell them.¡± Marc said, ¡°My name isn¡¯t Guy.¡± Fray and Barry looked at him confused, and Nico simply facepalmed. This maintained for a solid few seconds. Chapter 10: Kicking up Dust With one more day of free rooms, though this time sharing with Lloyd, Marc was well rested. Fray¡¯s party was all too eager to help Jacky tease Helen for telling them he was called Guy. Eventually, when she got back hours later, she countered by saying that she never said his name was Guy, only that he was called Guy, by her. Which, while technically true, Marc still thought was a bad excuse. He didn¡¯t voice it though, as in all honesty the four had been particularly nice to him over the last 2 days and it was so minor. He certainly wouldn¡¯t have survived without Barry healing him, Helen¡¯s connections to Jacky, and Nico¡¯s numbing potion. And, to give some credit to Fray, she was the one who pulled them all together, out of their disparate places. A little after explaining their plan to join an Open Hunt the next day, Fray pulled Marc to the side. She looked somewhere between anxious and annoyed, saying ¡°Look, I want to apologize for thinking you were a demon.¡± Marc gave a short laugh, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sure if i was in your spot i¡¯d have done the same thing.¡± She nodded, but then grabbed a small drawstring pouch hanging off her, setting it on a nearby surface. A Vracht Pack, Marc realized. ¡°I want to make it up to you, so here. Since your sword was destroyed.¡± She reached an arm¡¯s length in, almost over the shoulder, until she found what she needed, pulling it out. It was an axe. A very, very pretty two-handed axe. Marc knew what a 21st century axe generally looked like,. This one was a masterpiece compared to them. The haft of the axe was a smoothly curving piece of leather-wrapped metal. The metal had some finely carved letters that Marc¡¯s translation power seemed unable or unwilling to translate for him. He was thankful for it though, as it made the image look better in his opinion. The Axe Head itself was a piece of art. The blade was thin, but robust enough to be used for chopping and hitting into things, but after that was a scene. A figure throwing a spear through a dragon¡¯s eye. The dragon itself was more detailed than Marc could fully comprehend without studying it closely, while the figure was likely one he¡¯d recognize if he knew more about where they were. On the back of the axe head was a sharp spike, about 3 inches long in all, sharpened to a razor point. ¡°Fray, there¡¯s no way I can accept this?¡± ¡°There damn well is! I can summon an axe just as good as that one with a drop of blood. What good will it do collecting dust in my pack?¡± He shook his head, ¡°No, I mean that should be an art piece somewhere, not in the hands of a random nobody.¡± She laughed a bit, ¡°And let it rust on a wall? That axe wants nothing more than to be lodged in the skull of a monster somewhere.¡± ¡°But-¡± ¡°Besides,¡± She bowled over his objection, ¡°If you think it deserves an important wielder, then just become important.¡± With that, she shoved the axe into his arms, and he reflexively caught it. She was already cinching up the pack as Marc¡¯s mind focused enough to respond. ¡°Thanks, Fray.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. Seriously, this is an apology to you. Just don¡¯t die to a monster.¡± The two returned to the table, and before long, they all went off to bed, though the non-Helen members went off to their own factions to sleep. Marc, despite being restless, was asleep very quickly.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Grant stood in Mystle Academy before sunrise, overlooking the hustle and bustle of students making their way to their first class. He¡¯d long retired from adventure, around when he¡¯d reached echelon 4, and had instead laid his focus on teaching the next generation. High level and echelon could do a lot to extend a lifespan, but human was human in the end. He¡¯d have about one or two hundred years, maybe more, before old age took him. From his office atop the primal tower, he could see the arcane and divine towers. One tower for each school of magic, each with one headmaster. The other two, Mira and Brenn, had been in their positions since before Grant used his first Historia, if not before he was born. They treated him like he was a student, rather than an accomplished practitioner in his own right. It didn¡¯t help that he still looked very young. As the Hierophant, he was more connected to the magic of Waold than anyone else, bar maybe the Queen of Grand Vale. Because of this, all the growth and primal energy of the mountain range extended his youth, though likely not his lifespan by much when compared to his echelon. He was deep in musing on what to teach today, he felt the pulse. It was subtle, but it was pure. He doubted that anyone besides him and the queen could feel it, but whatever caused it was strong. Immediately, possibilities rushed to his mind. He knew of a number of monsters which could have caused it, legends and myths too dangerous to pass off as fairy tales. His mind swam with courses of actions, before his experience made itself known. Of all the monsters that could create a wave of pure nature magic, none in the area were particularly stealthy. Even among monsters he knew about from across the world, the only two that fit the description were seabound or unique. The morning bell rang. He had a class to teach. But he also had a mountain range to defend. Sometimes he hated being the Hierophant of the range. Too often his responsibilities conflicted with each other. He put the pulse in the back of his mind. He thought about it for the rest of the day, but if it didn¡¯t reappear, he would have to ignore it. He walked into his first class, and the lecture began. But in the back of his mind, he knew to contact the only other person who could notice such a thing the moment he was able.
In the morning, the three woke, ate breakfast, and started on their way out of the city. Jacky, being a from the city in the first place, had an actual house in one of the other wards, though did occasionally stay the night in the Society building. Not last night though. Jacky had to get something from her home to allow her to travel outside the city more easily. When she appeared the next day, in what Marc could only describe as wizard robes made of vines, he understood what she meant. Marc and Lloyd didn¡¯t have adventurer and normal clothing to choose between, which for Marc would probably be stinking to high heaven if not for a spell Jacky had to make him smell like dirt. As they left the city gates, they all felt the tension rising around them. They weren¡¯t in any danger just yet, but for two of them, this was their first real foray into the world of adventure. Even Jacky, as the highest leveled of the group (a solid 37), seemed to be feeling it. There was some idle chatter, but Marc was firmly stuck in his own head for the time. Lloyd and Jacky were from this world, while he hadn¡¯t been in a real life-or-death situation since. . . well, he¡¯d been in one earlier that week, but didn¡¯t count it. Other than the spider, the closest was an encounter with a bear that got spooked away. Now, he was hunting a sort of manticore-deer, that very likely had some form of horror-inducing magical effect. As the Tank, and the one not chatting, he decided to instead be looking around and staying aware of their surroundings. Sweeping from side to side, he was taking in the nature of the area as much as watching for enemies. It went on like this for a few hours, with a few moments of him getting pulled out of it by questions about his home. The trees reminded him of the forests near home, though somehow both more wild and less foreboding. He didn¡¯t see when the new tablet appeared, but when he saw it he grabbed it and read, eyes now firmly off the surroundings. NEW OUTSIDER BOON! SPECTATOR EFFECT Provides additional information about [Common] items, people, and monsters when observed. Provides additional information about System Functions. Adds flavor text to System Functions. Chapter 11: The First Hunt Marc put the new Boon out of his mind. Well, he tried to. It was currently very useful for actually tracking the monsters they were hunting. MONSTER TRACKS Basic Monster Tracks. Indicate that the animal is traveling North. Created less very recently. They even gave a subtle highlight to the tracks themselves, which was convenient. Tracking like this was something Marc hadn¡¯t ever done before. ¡°They¡¯re close¡±, he said to his companions. Both of them, by now, had finished their talk about the best restaurants in the city, and were instead incredibly quiet. With Marc¡¯s Survivalist boon and Lloyd¡¯s high finesse, Jacky was the least stealthy despite her massive level advantage. By now, Marc had Fray¡¯s axe in his hands, ready for use. His axe, he corrected in his head, since it did belong to him now. He looked at it for a moment, bringing up a system tablet, courtesy of Spectator Effect. Axe of Iron Mountain (Iron, Mundane, E1/L5*) An axe depicting the deeds of Halren, a great hero of Iron Mountain. Rarely scores critical hits. Increases level with wielder. He dismissed the tablet with a thought, something he only tried to do today. Pushing some leaves aside, he caught sight of the Spine Deer. There were only three of them, but each one was the size of a horse and had antlers. Marc held a hand up, and turned to the other two before pointing. Lloyd smirked, while Jacky¡¯s gaze hardened with resolve. Marc regripped the axe over and over again, bracing himself for the impact. All three of them ready, Lloyd got right next to Marc. He pulled out a throwing knife, winding up behind him with an almost unnatural flexibility, before flinging it through the brush. It hit deeply into the flank of one of the Deer, and the fight had started. Marc rocketed out from his crouched position, axe brought back for a fully dedicated swing. Jacky began chanting for a spell, but Marc met the first deer to charge him before she¡¯d finished. Marc fully wound up, took one last step, before swinging the axe like a baseball bat. The edge cut partly into it, but the angle it hit caused it to twist away. A minor hit, but one that, with Marc¡¯s might stat, batted the monster away for a moment. The deer spun on its hooves, clearly angered. It put it whipped its neck and some spines flew harmlessly to one side, away even from Marc¡¯s allies. It charged again. Marc hadn¡¯t even fully recovered from the hit, and held the axe like a spear. It had a spike at the end, but nothing more. His eyes reflexively closed, ready to get skewered by the very sharp antlers, but they never met him. What he felt instead was the resistance of the axe as it bit into the monster¡¯s leg. The spike did its job well enough to keep him from damage, and after shifting his grip, the blade too stabbed into the monster. The Spine deer itself was thrashing, caught on the curve of the axe. As it moved itself around, Marc did everything he could to hold on to his weapon. Another one, far paler but just as bloodied, had rounded to Marc¡¯s right. This was the one Lloyd had already hit, and as it whipped its neck towards Marc, a number of sewing needle-sized spines ejected from the tines of its antlers, sailing straight towards him. As they bit into his arm, the shock more than anything ensured he let go of the axe with his right hand, and the caught deer was even less controllable. Then, Marc saw the results of Jacky¡¯s Spell. A hand of mud rose from the ground and encased the deer Marc had hit, allowing him to pull his axe free. Looking back on the fight, Marc should have realized that the spell was the same he¡¯d been trapped in in the wheelbarrow, but he was more preoccupied at the moment. When another dagger flew out of the treeline and into the paler deer, it fell to the ground. Marc wound back for a big swing against the entrapped one, but got batted away as the final deer, this one far larger, ran into him. It was like a full body tackle from 400 pounds of muscle.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Marc¡¯s head was spinning, and he vaguely saw that he was Dazzled. What he really noticed was that his axe wasn¡¯t in his hand, and the deer was preparing to flick its spines into him. Looking around, he saw it was feet away, far outside of reach in the time he¡¯d need it Marc braced himself once more, forcing his eyes to stay even a bit open despite his instincts. The world slowed down for a moment, but once more he was saved. Lloyd, appearing from the shadows with a grin far more sinister than his usual half-cocked smirk, brought a dagger down into the deer¡¯s neck. With a single sneak attack, it was dead. There was a lull then. The only remaining deer was completely immobilized by the hardened mud summoned by Jacky, and was helplessly producing spines from its antlers without flicking its neck to give them any speed. They fell uselessly to the ground. Marc stood up, dusted himself off, and grabbed his axe with his bruised left arm. Looking to each of his party members, they didn¡¯t move to stop him.
The group sat around a small campfire as night fell over them. Marc couldn¡¯t help but internally laugh at the fact it took the three of them more time to set up camp and start a fire than it did to take down three monsters that were known to kill inexperienced solo adventurers. If he was alone, Marc was sure he would have added to that statistic. Lloyd was the one preparing to butcher the deer, with only his dagger. Jacky, meanwhile, was casting healing spells on Marc¡¯s injuries. Which, to his displeasure, felt exactly like a pile of mosquito bites. Marc, being the one injured, was ¡°allowed¡± to just sit there, though in truth they all felt it was a fair trade. Lloyd was their damage, Jacky their crowd control and healing, and Marc was the one getting hit. The triangle of MMOs covered. ¡°Heya Marc, can I borrow your axe for this? I don''t think this is made for breaking bone.¡± Lloyd called out, holding up his dagger. Marc said, ¡°Sure¡±, grabbed the axe, and brought it over to Lloyd. As he got to the block to hand it to the human, he got a notification tablet. He hadn¡¯t seen one appear before the deer, but after the combat, he and his allies had gained the experience from them, letting Marc level up and see the glowing white granite tablet. The same kind he saw right now. SURVIVALIST Would you like to loot 20% of this monster¡¯s valuables? Other parts must be harvested manually. {YES} {NO} ¡°Huh.¡± ¡°What¡¯s ¡®huh¡¯?¡± Lloyd turned to him, arm outstretched for the axe. ¡°Oh, uh, let me see if I can. . . ¡° Marc tapped the Yes button. A pile of expertly butchered meat appeared in a pile on the bench. The carcass deflated oddly. There was even the weird wax paper that butchers tended to use underneath it. Jacky looked at him, not for the first time, with a look of. . . well, Marc couldn¡¯t really tell what it was. Reading emotions was not something he excelled at, and she was a tree. ¡°Marc¡±, she started, ¡°when can you tell me about your boons?¡± The trio told each other about their boons late into the night, all the while feasting on the finest Spine Deer meat any had ever eaten.
They quickly fell into a routine. Marc would find them, Lloyd would throw some knives for damage far beyond what their size would suggest, and by the time they had recovered, one of Jacky¡¯s spells was ready to be cast and either restrain or entirely finish off one. If anything was still alive, Marc would charge into combat head first, while Lloyd and Jacky played support from range. In the few times he got charged again, Marc used Estrange to divert them, if slightly. Using it was weird, like imagining using an extra arm, but only practice could make it better. At the end of it all, Jacky had gained an entire level, while the new adventurers were sitting comfortably just below the level 10 mark. The experience they gained, while dramatically boosted for fighting things above their level, was also dramatically reduced against things of lower level. As they were traveling back, Marc looked at Jacky and Lloyd. Using Spectator Effect felt similar to Estrange, though the former could also be used by treating a conjured tablet like a smartphone. NAME: Jacky RACE: Dryad CLASS: Shaman LEVEL: 38/50 ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Excellent A Northern Dryad from Grand Vale. Prefers Healing and Earth Magic. Curious about the unknown. NAME: Lloyd Emmint RACE: Human CLASS: Rogue LEVEL: 8/50 ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Excellent A Human Rogue from the Sage Lands. Eager to please. Has many secrets. Marc¡¯s ¡°Outsider Locus¡± held most of the things they needed to provide proof they actually hunted the things they said they hunted. It actually worked a bit like a Vracht Pack they discovered. By this point, Jacky and Lloyd had started asking if Marc had a mystery boon or magic item for a number of scenarios. The monster materials themselves could be used in crafting magical items, or even mundane items. Open hunts themselves didn¡¯t pay much at all, given their nature, but the materials were always in demand. Walking back through the gates of the city, they returned as adventurers. Chapter 12: Flood Approaching Their first stop when back within town was to the Society building. Jacky didn¡¯t get any pay for the hunt, but if she wanted pay she said she could always just get a bounty from the Slayers. More importantly to Marc (and Lloyd, he assumed) was that he was allowed to rest in Society buildings for free, and his Brick ID was updated to reflect this change. He wasn¡¯t quite a full member, but close. The atmosphere within the city was a different story. Something called the Flood was approaching. It was a massive increase in the creation of monsters. Within the Sage lands it meant more Dire Beasts and elementals. ¡°Hey Jacky,¡± Lloyd asked, ¡°Why is it only ever those two? Why not the Doppelgangers or something else?¡± Jacky took a second to compose an answer, before saying, ¡°The flood is basically just an influx of magic, and those are the only monsters that require ambient magic are affected. Other places have it worse. Iron Mountain is going to have to deal with dragons.¡± Marc continued, ¡°So Doppelgangers aren¡¯t magic?¡± ¡°They have magic, but the same way I have magic. Not Primal magic with the whole impersonation thing, but some kind,¡± she replied. ¡°Their creation isn¡¯t dependant on it. I think thats the best catch-all.¡± They continued on, observing the preparations from afar. At an intersection, Jacky wished them farewell and headed off to her own house in the city. Lloyd and Marc, meanwhile, went to the market in order to sell the monster parts. Entering the big tent, they made a beeline for Berk, the only person who Marc knew in the entire marketplace. ¡°Ah, its you. Din¡¯t go an¡¯ die on yer hunt?¡± ¡°Not yet, unfortunately¡± Marc responded. Berk didn¡¯t seem to mean anything rude, so he figured humor would work. ¡°Heh! Well, keep tryin¡¯. I¡¯m sure ye¡¯ll get it sooner er later. Anyways, whatcha needin¡¯?¡± With that, Marc handed over the spare parts. He tried haggling for a better price, but having never haggled for anything in his life before, he was outmatched by the veteran Slayer. Then, Lloyd stepped up. ¡°Hey Mr. Berk?¡± ¡°Yeh?¡± ¡°Can i see that antler there?¡± he pointed towards one Berk was selling. After being handed it, he put the two side by side. The one they had hunted was not only larger in size, but had far more of the velvet. ¡°Well, If you¡¯re selling this for 40 leaves, then you could sell ours for 50, maybe even 60.¡± Berk countered, ¡°An¡¯ how many people d¡¯you think are gonna notice?¡± Lloyd gave a smirk that quickly changed into a full smile, ¡°The ones who have the money to be able to afford the better materials. Plus, look around¡± he gestured to the surrounding vendors. ¡°No one else is selling Spine Deer velvet.¡± Berk took a second to look around, and seeing that Lloyd was right, sighed, ¡°Fine. You gotchyer price. Jus¡¯ don¡¯ go spreading word, y¡¯hear?¡± After counting out their coin, the two turned and left. Marc¡¯s eyes went wider with each trade of words, and as they left, a hundred silver Leaves richer, Marc looked in awe at Lloyd. ¡°H-how did you do that?¡± ¡°What? I can be convincing.¡± ¡°Yeah, but. . . I¡¯ve never seen you do it before¡± Lloyd cocked his head to the side, ¡°Whadaya mean? I convinced you and Jacky to hunt with me, didn¡¯t I?¡± Well, that was true. Lloyd handed the coin to Marc, who put it into his Locus. Lloyd himself had his own coin pouch, but seeing as Marc had a Vracht Pack, the group decided even before reentering the city that he¡¯d carry their shared equipment. Seeing as he had the highest might, especially after getting a few new points from Sightseeker, Marc saw no reason to object.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Marc asked Lloyd, ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m thinking-¡± he stopped as he was bumped into by an elf. The elf apologized to them and moved quickly out of sight. The two continued walking, though Lloyd had a small smirk. ¡°I¡¯m thinking we can either look at some Society records and maybe pick out some Historia for us.¡±
Unsurprisingly to Marc, there was nothing about Wanderers in the Society archives. Lloyd, however was looking through a few different options. ¡°So, Rogue and Archer can turn into Assassin?¡± Lloyd asked. ¡°Rogue, Archer, and Alchemist actually.¡± Marc responded. ¡°Then that¡¯s out. Alchemy is not for me Marc. Do I look poison-proof?¡± He said, looking remarkably poisonable. ¡°Well, you could just go further into Rogue. Become a Thief?¡± Marc offered. It felt weird listing off Thief like he was helping a friend choose a college major. This was a choice that would affect the rest of Lloyd¡¯s life. ¡°No thanks. Guilds get frisky, literally, when you ¡®encroach on their territory¡¯. I don¡¯t need the Root looking at me any more than they already might be.¡± Lloyd sounded more annoyed than afraid. ¡°What can Rogue-Warrior do?¡± Marc flipped a few pages, ¡°Has a few options depending on what you use more. Swordsman is one you could use.¡± ¡°High Finesse right?¡± ¡°Yeah. Usually have some extra critical damage thing.¡± ¡°But they can only use swords?¡± ¡°Says here you¡¯d need to use swords a ton before you do the ritual.¡± That would be a deal breaker. Lloyd loved his daggers and throwing knives. ¡°What else is there?¡± ¡°There¡¯s Enforcer if you want to join me on the front lines,¡± A look from Lloyd confirmed what Marc already suspected. He continued, ¡°Or Mercenary is the catch-all.¡± ¡°So all of them are close combat?¡± ¡°Afraid so. Except the magic ones.¡± ¡°What¡¯s Shaman got for me?¡± ¡°If you are more physical you can become a Spellsword, or if you go more magical you can become a. . . Nightblade?¡± ¡°So magic swordsman or another magic swordsman?¡± ¡°Looking through, almost all of these are just hybrid classes.¡± Lloyd made a noise and got up. Leaving the book where it was, Lloyd walked out of the archives in frustration. Marc put the few they had taken out back to the Archivist (a Craftsman and Scholar evolved class). As he was walking out of the archive, he decided to go to the training grounds. He hadn¡¯t been yet, and his first hunt had shown him that he needed a heck of a lot more training if he wanted to actually use the axe he had. He didn¡¯t expect to see Fray wailing away at one of the training dummies though. Taking out the axe she¡¯d given him, he walked over to one of his own, and started swinging away. His biggest issue was that the axe seemed determined to twist on contact. After about 10 minutes, Marc heard Fray¡¯s voice call out to him, ¡°Stop flailing!¡± He stopped swinging, and looked over to her. ¡°Just - Fine, over here, i¡¯ll show you how to use that axe.¡± ¡°Oh, tha-¡± ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Im keeping you from embarrassing me by using that axe like its a bludgeon. Your grip is terrible, your footing is terrible, and you leave yourself open to more attacks than a drunken mage.¡± She said, with a smile on her face.
The thief wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to find the human to curse him out or shake his hand. Her haul had been good, all things considered, but that one guy had a massive trade in the big tent, and she didn¡¯t get a single Leaf. Who put pebbles into a coin pouch on their hip? At any other time, she¡¯d respect it, but now was not the time for adventurers to be getting smart with their money, seeing as it was supposed to be her money after a day¡¯s work. Just then, her ¡°leader¡± walked into the room. ¡°Tithe,¡± the imposing woman commanded. The elf handed over what was due: the first of every ten coins. Looking at the still full pouch, the human¡¯s gaze shot back. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. It¡¯s rocks,¡± the elf preempted. She tossed the bag to the human, who looked through. ¡°Shame. Your quota is met. Prepare.¡± and the human left. The elf clenched her fists and glared at the closed door. She hated the Inquisitor. The ¡°tithe¡± was nothing new, but it was ¡°guild dues¡± only a few years ago. Whatever, she thought. She pulled out a small scroll. It was the size of something a noble would give a servant, or at least she imagined it was. Importantly, it was unassuming. She unfurled it multiple feet, far longer than it should be, and read over her messy scrawl, and began to write once more in code. To anyone but her, it was a mess of random elven letters that came together for gibberish. For the author, it was a layout of who to rob and where. The big tent had the most valuable stuff outside of the noble section of the city. It was only luck that she saw the two humans with one of the nobles crossing the gates. Then, they traded with Berk of all people. Every thief out of bars knew Berk. He was an old, irritable man who was generally unpleasant to be around, even if you were allied with him. But, he was the person who held the Slayers¡¯s purse strings, and had eyes like a hawk. No one in the Root had ever robbed him, as far as the thief had ever heard. She planned to be the first. Chapter 13: Mentors Marc and Fray had been training for hours before they called it. Both of them had high resilience, meaning any accidental hit and exhaustion would be reduced. Marc could confidently say he would no longer be baseball-batting his way through deer. Who knew there was more to using an axe than simply swinging as hard as he could? More than that, though, Marc knew he was close to a level-up. He pulled up his tablet. He knew that others seemingly couldn¡¯t see or touch the tablets, so was careful when summoning them. NAME: Marcus H. Green RACE: Outsider CLASS: Wanderer LEVEL: 9/50 (96%) ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: Moderate ABILITIES: RSL - 30 Resilience. How able you are to resist and recover from adverse change. FCS - 24 Focus. How able you are to concentrate and exert yourself mentally. MGT - 21 (+8) Might. How able you are to affect the world around you. FNS - 14 Finesse. How able you are to perform tasks quickly or skillfully. LCK - 6 Luck. How much the gods like you. He¡¯d still not gained a single point of luck, and that description hadn¡¯t really given him a lot of confidence. He was just beginning to feel like a reasonably athletic person with his might and finesse, not to mention how pain was starting to dull from his resilience. Hopefully he could ask someone in the know what a normal amount of luck was. ¡°Or,¡± he thought, ¡°I could just never meet a god. I think I vote for that.¡± Summoning the Boons tablet, he was far more pleased. He¡¯d made progress with a number of them, though his Outsider boons didn¡¯t seem to grow like the others. With Spectator Effect, they also gained new flavor text. BOONS WANDERER BOONS SIGHTSEEKER - 43% All Wanderers are called to the discovery of something new. Current effect: [4] / [87%] Next Potency loss [22 days] SURVIVALIST - 78% The bare elements are gentle toward the wanderer, whose place is the road. ESTRANGE - 06% To wander is to leave, whether by choice or force. OUTSIDER BOONS POLYGLOT An innate replacement boon for all outsiders. Imperfect, but understandable. AETHEREAL RESISTANCE Allows prolonged and frequent travel through the aethereal media used for teleportation.. SPECTATOR EFFECT A Unique boon provided to Farlanders familiar with Computer Role Playing Games. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. HISTORIA BOONS: 0/2/6 Marc stared at the bottom of the tablet. Unlike Lloyd or even Jacky, he had no clue as to what his next echelon class might be. He was a bit worried about it. Unless he could find something that fit him it wasn¡¯t impossible that he would end up with a class utterly unsuited to his role in the party. Or worse, a class that simply didn¡¯t agree with him. Fray looked at him before speaking, her voice bringing him back to the present, ¡°You look like you¡¯re thinking real hard.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s about what Historia I should get.¡± ¡°Thinking of your next class already?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t, really. Wanderer class. I¡¯d like to plan it out, but theres no information on it.¡± If there was more information on things he might be having a very different experience. He¡¯d probably have a plan for all his echelons already. She thought for a moment. ¡°Well, what¡¯s your goal with adventuring?¡± It was Marc¡¯s turn. He¡¯d really just been dragged from place to place by people who knew better. Thinking on it, him coming to the training room was the first time he¡¯d chosen what to do since. . . Since he left the cave. Even then, it was more a matter of getting away from the noise. Thinking back, even before he¡¯d woken up in the cave, he¡¯d just been living life on autopilot. Shaking himself out of it, he promised himself that he would address those thoughts later. He refocused on what Fray had actually asked him. He needed to think of himself as a game character with a role, not a person. Marc was tough. His resilience was definitely above what basically anyone would expect for his level. He was basically made to be a tank, and Estrange only reinforced that. Armor would help, but he could buy that. What he needed was a way to either keep his enemies focused on him, or control their movement. Jacky could handle the latter part, though redundancy wouldn¡¯t hurt either. If he worked on the former, she could then heal him instead and get the same result. ¡°Is there any way to make monsters focus on me?¡± ¡°Only the really dumb ones, and its risky with the Flood coming up. Don¡¯t want a Dire Bear staring you down when there are better options.¡± ¡°What about a way to control their movement?¡± ¡°You looking to get into magic?¡± Thinking for a moment, Marc responded, ¡°No. Or, not yet at least. I don¡¯t really. . . know how magic works.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine. I barely do and I cast spells.¡± Fray sat and thought for a second. ¡°Can you wait until after the flood is over?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see why not, why?¡± ¡°Lots of fresh Historia afterwards. Much cheaper, and bigger selection. They don¡¯t reappear later though. Barry probably knows why.¡± Marc nodded, and the two said goodbye. Once more, Marc had the choice to do what he wanted. ¡°Twice in one day¡± he muttered to himself. He went back to the archive. He chose to learn about magic.
The Elf watched from the stands as the Glorifiers clashed. This was one of her favorite haunts, and she was well known to the others who frequented. Not as a thief, but as another patron of the bloodsport. With money shifting hands so often though, there were bound to be a few that went missing, though rarely enough to matter. ¡°You stand out here, you know,¡± a voice from behind her came. She turned, and had to stifle a dry laugh at his statement. Sharoaa were not a common sight in the Sage Lands. Neither were robes glowing with magical runes or dragonscale boots. A person with any one of those obvious traits would stand out, and he had all three. If anyone got a good look at the catlike humanoid, they¡¯d immediately recognize something was going on, and the full-face mask completed the ensemble of oddity. ¡°Then again¡±, the Elf though, ¡°they¡¯d need to be allowed to see him first¡±. With a flick of the Sharoaa¡¯s tail, the roar of the crowd and arena went dull. A magical veil appeared around the two, and they were in privacy. He removed his mask, but the Elf still couldn¡¯t quite make out his face or features. She once more came face to face with her low level, trying to tell if his eyes were amber, green, or even red. ¡°That gives us privacy. What do you have for me?¡± Quick and to the point. The Elf appreciated that. ¡°The Flood¡¯s approaching, and you know what that means?¡± she asked. ¡°That upstanding Classed people like us should be out killing monsters and gaining levels. Well, you should at least.¡± A slight dig at her, but not one she hadn¡¯t heard before. Still, she clenched her fist before forcing herself to relax. ¡°There are a lot of things I could be doing during the flood. Why should i listen to your idea?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re a rogue, like me,¡± She replied. It was true, the Sharoaa was originally a Rogue. His unimpressed stare somehow made it through the stealth magic, so she continued, ¡°and I know that this plan would get us more experience than killing monsters ever could in that time.¡± ¡°A Heist? That¡¯s it? You better have more than that.¡± ¡°Oh you bet I do. See, the local thieves guild has an alliance with the Dryad Queen since its her daughter running the place.¡± The Sharoaa¡¯s head tilted, and she could almost make out a small scar on his face. ¡°That includes no robbing adventurer¡¯s stuff during floods. I¡¯ve been around fo the last three, and every time, they leave everything undefended.¡± ¡°Everything?¡± ¡°All of it. Slayers, Alchemists, even the Temple.¡± ¡°What of the Canopy Ward?¡± The home of the Dryad Queen herself. Normally it was off limits to all who didn¡¯t have an invitation, and only the nobles had said invitations. ¡°They need guards on the outer walls. The only person to worry about would be-¡± He cut her off. ¡°The Queen herself. . .¡± She could see a dangerous grin on his face now. ¡°So, what¡¯s in it for you, other than levels and money?¡± ¡°What, are the levels and money not enough?¡± ¡°People don¡¯t betray their guild for those things.¡± He was right, of course, but she couldn¡¯t admit to it right away. ¡°So, go on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m close to 40. Levels, not years,¡± She corrected. 40 years to an elf was less than ten for a human, ¡°And with this, im sure I¡¯ll get to 50. I just need some Historia and, well, one thing from you.¡± The Sharoaa looked her over, and nodded. The stealth magic disappeared from his face. His eyes were an almost purple color, there were no scars across his face, and his nose was a completely different shape than she could make out. ¡°You want me to Sponsor you. Deal.¡± She shook his hand. Chapter 14: March to Mystle Marc stood in a large mass of lower-level adventurers. When he oke up that morning and was told to join the muster, he wasn''t sure what to expect. Being told that he had to go out and finish some last minute missions before the flood came was not surprising in retrospect. Next to him was Lloyd and a few other adventurers, all below level 10 and untested. They would be sent to check up on other towns, bring some supplies to certain places, and one Icess would be going out to recruit a hermit. The other, more experienced adventures would be trying to cull the numbers of Dire Beasts. They¡¯d be allowed to recruit others from the allied factions, though were told that anyone they might recruit would likely also have some last minute faction tasks. Despite the life and death nature of it all, Marc was reminded of a holiday rush rather than what he expected a military to look like. Lloyd, meanwhile was shifting from one foot to the other, clearly impatient. ¡°Alright, if I already gave you your assignment, you¡¯re dismissed, otherwise we¡¯ll do it here. Questions? Good,¡± the administrator said, not looking up from the pile of papers nor waiting for an answer.. Marc was sure he should probably know his name, which brought to mind how Fray¡¯s group thought he was called Guy. Therefore, the admin was named Guy in Marc¡¯s head, and would probably stay that way. ¡°Alright, starting from the bottom. Daw, Clint, weapons to Thornbrook, and try not to get killed. Thea, Harn, and Gerwick, there¡¯s a scholar out in Hewston with a book we want. Marc, Lloyd,¡± Lloyd, for the first time in minutes, looked up while Marc stood a bit straighter,¡± ink to the academy, and you¡¯re going to need to escort a philosopher as well. You¡¯re getting an alchemist for that, so start over at their guildhall.¡± The academy had to be Mystle academy, the place where Barry was from. Marc nodded his head, and waited for the end of the names called out. Eventually, the not-full member adventurers were dismissed. Lloyd and Marc were some of the last out of the room, and heard a few more jobs getting called out. ¡°So, Mystle Academy huh?¡± Marc said to Lloyd. ¡°Yeah. Isn''t that Pyromancer you know from there?¡± Lloyd asked back. ¡°I think so. Nico is from the Alchemist so maybe we can ask for him to be the one that joins us.¡± ¡°That¡¯d be good. He¡¯s from Trinity city?¡± ¡°Yeah, him and Helen.¡± Marc responded. The two continued their small talk as they moved lazily through the streets. Eventually when they got back around to the prospect of new Historia, Lloyd revealed that he was considering a Shaman¡¯s Historia and a Rogue¡¯s. The former would be in high supply after the flood, and were already cheaper here than almost anywhere else. The latter, though rarer, weren¡¯t so valuable that they would be out of the question. ¡°Hey, do you think they''re going to let us join the defenses?¡± Lloyd asked, as they finally turned down the street with the Alchemist¡¯s Guildhall. ¡°I don¡¯t see why they wouldn¡¯t. There¡¯s only so many people with classes in the city.¡± Marc was really hoping he would get the chance to help the city. More to gain some experience than anything else, but still. ¡°I heard in the market yesterday that the queen is emptying the Canopy Ward of most of its guard for the defense. Almost everyone up there is Classed,¡± Lloyd stage whispered. Marc¡¯s shoulders slumped and he continued, ¡°And I heard from that one Fray Dwarf that they ¡®Don¡¯t need low levels like us.¡¯¡± ¡°So what, we just sit on our hands?¡± Marc didn¡¯t know who the Fray Dwarf was, but there were only so many dwarven adventurers to go through. ¡°Eh, only for as long as the flood lasts. Maybe 2 weeks, tops.¡± They had, by now, gotten to the Guildhall. Lloyd went to knock on the door, before it opened and Nico walked outside. He stared at the two of them, before recognition hit him.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Nico was, indeed, the one who was sent to Mystle academy. Which meant that all that was left was their last preparations within the city and grabbing the shipment. Marc hadn¡¯t really considered ink as being something difficult to obtain, but this was a world without Amazon. The stuff had to be made from actual, real squids. The good stuff, some of which they were transporting, was then refined and infused with some neutral magic by an Alchemist (the class, not necessarily the guild). After checking their equipment and getting ready to go, the three set off. They had a full on carts and either donkeys or mules to pull. Marc could never tell the difference, and was of the opinion that it didn¡¯t really matter right now. They left from the north gate of the city, where before Marc had only left the West gate. On their first hunt, Jacky had been the one directing them and giving out strategy, and now it was Nico¡¯s turn. Or it would be, if the elf was willing to make the decisions. It wasn¡¯t said out loud, but Marc was fairly sure that he didn¡¯t really want to be in charge. That left the less experienced two to make up their plans. Given Nico was a Sapper, capable of spells that weren¡¯t too unlike what Jacky used, they decided to just stick with what she said, and informed Nico of that. The elf nodded, before going back to ¡°road alchemy¡± as he called it. To Marc, it looked a lot like picking flowers and shivering. After a few hours, by which time Marc had gained another stack and a half of Sightseeker, Lloyd joined him in shivering, though Marc wasn¡¯t feeling the chill himself. It seemed like it had only dropped a few degrees, though the clouds overhead and the wind blowing around them didn¡¯t help ¡°Not fair. . .¡± Lloyd muttered, loud enough for Marc to hear it. ¡°Hm?¡± Nico asked. ¡°Marc¡¯s dumb boon gives him environmental resistance.¡± The human whined. ¡°Oh. That rem-minds me.¡± Nico¡¯s teeth were chattering as he spoke. Marc, meanwhile, was deciding whether to feel smug or to feel bad for his friends. He was leaning on bad for his friends as Nico pulled out two pale orange potions, handing one to Lloyd and downing one himself. ¡°Oh that¡¯s so much better.¡± Lloyd said. ¡°I keep a few of those around just in case. Simple recipe, if you want to learn.¡± Marc turned to them, asking ¡°Hot drink?¡± Nico replied, ¡°Warming potion.¡± The march and road alchemy continued for a few hours, until the sun was low enough in the sky that they had to stop. Moving to the side of the road, Marc started looking for some dry wood to burn before Nico stopped him. Taking out a small phial and chanting in the magic language, Nico allowed a single drop to fall to the clear forest floor. The milky liquid turned into a blue flame, only bounded by Nico¡¯s magic. Marc and Lloyd both jumped back, startled, but the bonfire was complete.
Marc was awakened in the middle of the night by Nico shaking him, telling him it was his turn for watch. The farlander was still not fully used to watch schedules, but could keep himself awake long enough. He always took the last watch so he didn¡¯t need to worry about timing things. The bonfire was still going strong, though it had faded from a violent blue to a more normal orange. Alchemy was fast becoming something Marc may look into a Historia for, but that was something to consider later. From his point of view, he looked out and listened for anything approaching. There was nothing but some nocturnal animals for a long, long time. Everything was as it should be for hours. But, as the first bits of light turned the black sky gray, there was an unnatural silence. The birds and animals that should be making their way to nests and dens were quiet. Marc was on alert as soon as he realized. Scanning the horizon, he saw the slightest bit of movement. A single figure, barely distinguishable from the treeline. It was slow moving, and it made sound he could hear. Then, he saw more movement. Another figure, humanoid, also moving towards him. Then, another, and another. Marc saw ten or more slowly limping humanoids moving towards their camp. He moved to Lloyd and Nico, shaking them awake. As he pointed to the figures, Nico swore. ¡°Undead. Can¡¯t tell what kind. Get ready.¡± He gave each of them a potion in pepto bismol pink. Marc grabbed his axe, and Lloyd his daggers. Nico himself pulled out a contraption, before dumping the rest of the bonfire phial into it. ¡°Oh, Marc?¡± the elf asked, getting his attention. When Marc turned to him, he continued, ¡°Drink this,¡± tossing another potion. This one was a sickly green color. Marc barely caught it, dropping his axe entirely, but quickly pulled the stopper out and downed it. It tasted like pure mint extract, and the texture was oddly chunky. Picking his axe back up Marc blanched at the taste. He handed the bottle to Nico, ¡°What is that, eugh.¡± His question was answered with a new active status effect. [FIRE RESISTANT] (Skill - Alchemy) Grants 80% resistance to fire damage Prevents burns from open flames. Chapter 15: An Hour of Silence Marc was nervous as the zombies approached. It was a lot of uncomfortable firsts he was about to experience. First time fighting a horde of enemies, first time killing a humanoid. First time being set on fire was just an uncomfortably likely cherry on top. He took a step forward. The morning grew brighter by the second to reveal gray overcast. The undead limped forward without stop, their jaws slack and steps still silent. Marc''s grip on his axe tightened. It was almost time for him to charge them. He really didn''t want to charge them. They were too human. Killing deer was one thing, but these were people. Former people, but it felt like a line was about to be crossed. By now, they were only 20 feet away. Lloyd started throwing knives. They sunk into the undead flesh and allowed an ungodly stench to exit the walking corpse. Nico pulled the trigger on his contraption. A blast of blue fire exploded forwards. The scent of rotten flesh turned into that of burning meat, and Marc thought he was going to be sick. Instead he grit his teeth, and charged forward. Three of the zombies had already fallen to the burst of flame, and Marc chopped through the rotting bones of another. Each time they tried to grab Marc, Lloyd''s knives cut through fingers or wrists, letting him go free. After the fifth definitely-not-human went down, the horde''s attention was on him alone. His axe kept swinging, with his eyes so squinted he could barely see. The dead seemed to bring their silence with them, so he could barely hear. But the smell was enough to know they were close. ¡°Brace!¡± Nico called. His voice muffled as if behind a thick door. Even Marc¡¯s breathing was quieter than it should be. He braced, preparing to tug on the sensation of Estrange. He felt the heat wash over him, but where it should sear him just as much as the undead, instead it felt like he was much too close to a bonfire. He opened his eyes. Only one of the mob was still together, but it was trivial to destroy it. Not kill, they weren''t alive, and certainly not human, destroy. Marc took the chance, morbid curiosity taking the reins. He utilized Spectator Effect on the monster. SOLEMN ZOMBIE A zombie of low strength. Instead of mundane plagues, their bite inflicts {Silence}. He tapped the button to view Silence. [SILENCE] Causes muffled speech and impedes casting of most spells. Focus Reduced by 1. Silence can stack to further reduce focus and ability to speak. Lloyd was retrieving his daggers. All things considered, this ended far better than it could have. ¡°More, behind us.¡± Marc wanted to scream when Nico said that. He turned, and sure enough, there were more. He scanned the horizon. In every direction, there they were. What was ten became dozens, if not over a hundred. ¡°I only have 6 knives guys.¡± Lloyd chimed in. Against anything else, they''d be enough, or he could go in close, but the zombies proved resistant to his sneak attacks. Even Marc''s axe did little besides break their bones. No direction was safe. ¡°Lloyd. Hold this.¡± Nico threw the Alchemists¡¯s flamethrower at the rogue barely able to maneuver the bulky machine. He began casting a spell on the earth around them. ¡°Guess that''s one benefit of this.¡± Marc said, ¡°plenty of time to cast while they limp on over.¡± he wasn''t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the situation. Nico¡¯s spell took a full 40 seconds. The Horde was over a minute away still, but there were ever more ranks behind them. Marc was considering climbing another tree, but the last time he only got down alive through luck and Barry being a healer. At the end of the incantation, a moat formed around their campsite, and the trio was lifted another 4 feet into the air, with the cart and horses an extra few feet as well.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. They had a trench and the high ground. From his vantage point, Marc looked over the horde. It ended, but he couldn''t count the number they had to destroy. ¡°Can''t do much more. Lloyd, my Dragonmaw?¡± He got the contraption back. ¡°My bag. Find the bottle that looks like it has Milk. Not the green one. Then, the censer. ¡± Lloyd nodded, diving to the pack and beginning to rifle through everything. ¡°Marc?¡± He looked to the Elf, ¡°Does your bag have anything useful?¡± He took a second to think, remembering the two items he''d never used. ¡°Uh, A Potion of Steps that heals, a dagger, and whatever an attunement lozenge is.¡± Marc opened his bag to find them, and the zombies were beginning to fall into the moat. He pulled out a plastic soda bottle reading Potion of Last Steps that looked suspiciously like Pepsi, a long fixed dagger that glowed in the dark of the bag, and a handful of what looked to be small jawbreakers wrapped in plastic. ¡°Your world''s weird.¡± Lloyd said, eyeing the dagger. ¡°Well deal without¡± Nico said. He pulled the trigger of his Dragonmaw, and a group of them went down. Marc heard him mutter something about needing more fire, but went to the other side of the platform they were on. He started swinging at anything that attempted to mantle over the top. The undead horde gathered up for minutes on end. Marc couldn''t fully destroy them with his axe, nor Lloyd with his knives. Only Nico''s fire could make them fully stop, or Marc breaking their bones so badly they couldn''t move. The moat was getting more and more full of newly re-dead corpses. After a short time searching, the rogue did find the right things and told Nico. It was an Anti-Undead poison of some kind, and the censer would mist it around. ¡°Do I need to chant anything?¡± Lloyd asked. The poison came out like a white mist, and sunk to the ground far heavier than air. ¡°No. Just swing it over them¡±. Whenever the poison touched their skin, it made a popping sound, and the few Marc had fully broken laid still at last. Minutes dragged on. Nico ran out of fuel after 10 minutes and he started trying to cast spells, only for most of them to be neutralized by the aura of silence around them. Marc had been bitten and clawed at successfully multiple times, but his might was enough to resist getting dragged into the pile After 20 minutes, the poison ran out, and Marc was the only one able to quickly damage the horde. The majority of it was gone, but there were still dozens remaining, now with a convenient ramp up to them. As he smashed a zombie''s head in, he got a notification. LEVEL UP! Level 10 RSL - 30 + 1 FCS - 24 + 2 MGT - 21 + 1 FNS - 14 + 0 LCK - 6 + 0 He dismissed it and kept swinging. His hesitation from before was suppressed through the onslaught. Lloyd was using his daggers and had lost the throwing knives in the pile. Nico had grabbed Marc''s dagger and was tying to make some kind of potion from the sap of trees and some of the ink they were transporting, all while still driving off zombies. Both of them had been bitten, clawed at, and would likely be ripped apart were it not for Marc shoulder checking their assailant. Without a way to cleanly destroy them, the opposing numbers didn''t actually decrease. They just got more parts cut off. Thirty minutes in and their numbers weren''t decreasing. Exhaustion had nearly overwhelmed Lloyd as much as the horde. Nico had been flagging for minutes. A bird called out overhead, loud enough to overwhelm the aura of silence. Marc and Nico looked up to see it. A vulture was circling overhead. It was almost painful to hear after the quiet they''d experienced so far. Marc was getting desperate. Cutting off their limbs gave a few seconds as they put them back on. Breaking bones stuck, but the undead didn''t need them to keep moving, able to just muscle themselves through. It took massive effort for Marc to destroy one, effectively needing to destroy the head and remove the hands from the body so it couldn''t repair itself. Marc heard the telltale sound of a soda bottle being opened, and turned to see Nico hesitate before chugging the still foaming potion. He stopped for a second, seemingly gagging, before continuing. As he drank, all of his wounds reversed in order. Climbing up to the cart, Nico lifted Lloyd up as well. ¡°Marc, keep them down there.¡± He said, voice piercing through the silence. The potion had healed him of Silence, somehow. He began chanting as Marc tried to make them focus on him. They seemed to be drawn to the noise more than anything, but Marc pushing them together with the haft of his axe was enough encouragement to get them looking his way. As they tried to climb, Lloyd would cut their fingers off to go tumbling down, where Marc would kick them away. It took a full minute of last ditch defense, when Nico glowed with magic. A brown mist rose from the earth, and Marc scrambled up the ledge to the cart, assisted by Lloyd. The zombies moved slower and slower, before their body parts started falling off, becoming one with the mud. Hearing the flap of wings, Marc looked up. The vulture flew away to the west, eventually coming to land on the arm of a figure in pure white against the brown and green. With its hood drawn, it looked to the three, before turning and disappearing into the woods as snow began to fall. Chapter 16: Academy Gates The trio waited for a good hour to regain some energy. Marc could keep going, but it seemed that he was the only one. The other two needed a good rest. Marc was mostly glad the horses didn''t run away. ¡°Marc. What was that potion?¡± Nico asked from behind him. He turned and saw the empty plastic bottle on the ground. With time to examine it, he read the label. The bottle itself was normal, though probably the only plastic in the entire world. The label, however, was not. It read ¡°Potion of Past Steps¡±, with no logo, then medical usage instructions, the soda¡¯s nutrition facts, ingredients, and finally small text asking for it to be recycled. ¡°It looks like a regular soda, why?¡± ¡°Soda is some kind of medicine?¡± ¡°I think it was, but now people just drink it.¡± he vaguely remembered the fact, though he didn''t know where from. ¡°I have drunk poison. That tasted worse.¡± Damn, that bad? If Marc had more, he¡¯d probably have cracked one open to taste it, but unfortunately there were only the two remaining. That said, they were called potions. . . ¡°Hey Nico, can you make more of these for me?¡± The alchemist looked at him in the closest thing Marc had ever seen to rage from him. ¡°If they weren¡¯t useful, I¡¯d be saying no right now. Leave one for me to. . . Inspect.¡± At the end of the hour, they started moving. Lloyd was thrown onto the back of the cart so he could try to sleep, while Marc and Nico kept their eyes peeled for the man with the vulture. Unfortunately with the snow falling he had very good camouflage, assuming he didn¡¯t have some other method of either travel or stealth. The rest of the day was spent in nervous tension. Nico and Lloyd chugged warming potions every few hours, and eventually Marc had to ask for one a few hours before nightfall. The road was well traveled, but by this point in the trek it was entirely dirt, so they were moving slower than the wanted. The trip from the city to Academy was supposed to two-to-three days long, but it was looking like they¡¯d need a fourth. That night, they were far more careful. Lloyd and Marc worked together to hide their camp from view, while Nico set up the trenches ahead of time. They still had to take the risk of lighting a fire, as the snow had not let up, but they¡¯d have a lot more warning next time. One weary night led to a tiring third day. They encountered a small pack of the same undead as before along the path, but they were disposed of quickly. Marc had gained even more might from Sightseeker, allowing him to easily hold off the horde. Before noon on the fourth day, they reached Mystle Academy.
The gates of the academy reminded Marc of the overly ornamented driveway entrances to a McMansion. Or, he supposed, what they were imitating. It was odd to see something so well crafted be neither fake in its quality nor tarnished from decades or centuries of wear. There were two guards at the gate in imposing blue robes. One held a shield in with a symbol of crossed wands on it, while the other had a deck of cards in hand. Marc wasn¡¯t sure what exactly to say, but they seemed to recognize Nico, or perhaps they knew that there was a shipment of ink coming in. Whatever the case, the two barely touched the gate as it peeled back from the center in a way metal should not move. Once they were through, it unfurled itself back into place. ¡°Magic is weird, Nico.¡± Marc said. Nico nodded to him, whether in agreement or simply acknowledging he heard it. The Academy itself was an interesting mishmash of fantasy castle and modern (to Marc, at least) university. There were large towers like skyscrapers soaring to the clouds, and in between them there were paved walkways with benches where students were writing assignments. People were using magic to throw frisbees back and forth. The library was only kept from flying away due to thick chains wrapping around it, but looked like it stepped (floated?) out of an image search for brutalist buildings.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Their goal, however, was the Alchemists¡¯s Guildhall. The Alchemists could turn the ink into whatever variant needed, and they were being sent to get the Philosopher of the hall as well, and escort her back to Grand Vale for some reason Nico wouldn¡¯t tell them. The guildhall was, fitting in with the rest of the academy, strange. In Grand Vale, most buildings were tall wooden structures with sharp angled roofs, the guildhall included, though with far more chimneys. The one at Mystle looked like a cross between a gothic cathedral and an industrial factory. Massive round smokestacks supported by flying buttresses, atop an angular stone building with stained glass portraying. . . some alchemical thing. ¡°Nico, are you part of a cult?¡± Marc asked, mostly in jest. ¡°No. The Cult of Philosophy was ejected from the guild decades ago.¡± Marc chose to stay silent as they entered the doors. Unlike at the Slayers or Adventurers, there was no receptionist, just the scent of chemicals and a wide open floor with a number of work stations. There were surprisingly few candles, something Marc had had to get used to, instead most of the room being lit by the sunlight streaming in from the smokestacks above. Only a few of the alchemists turned to see someone enter, otherwise being fully absorbed by their study or work. The only person Marc saw not at a work station was an older human in his fifties or sixties. He wore green robes and his red hair was fading to gray at the edges. He was sitting in a chair with a large bag at his side. He was reading a book that, for the first time since Marc had gotten to the Sage lands, had a title he couldn¡¯t read. The man barely looked up, but closed his book upon seeing Nico, a smile widening across his face. ¡°Nicolas! How good to see you again. I was hoping you¡¯d be the one sent.¡± Nico turned and upon recognizing the man, smiled himself. ¡°Lord Roen, it is a pleasure to meet you again as well. These two adventurers are my companions, Marc and Lloyd.¡± He said, far more talkative than Marc had seen him before. Whoever Lord Roen was, he was a friend of Nico¡¯s. Roen continued, ¡°We¡¯ll need to catch up. Hilda won¡¯t be out of a reaction for a few hours still, she sent me to tell whoever arrived.¡± The older human reached into a deep pocket, retrieving what looked like a stone wand. Nico nodded, adding, ¡°Alchemy can be that way. I can only imagine how intricate a Philosopher¡¯s experimenting can get. Should we wait here?¡± ¡°No. They trustworthy?¡± He asked, looking Lloyd up and down. ¡°Enough.¡± Roen turned to the two junior adventurers, and began waving the stone wand around him. ¡°Hello, I am Grant Roen, Hierophant. We can wait in my office.¡± With that, he began chanting, and less than a minute later, the earth swallowed them up. They were spat out from the side of a stone, and Nico and Lloyd looked ready to vomit. Marc felt fine, and Grant seemed either used to it or unaffected. Checking his notifications, he saw the reason why. EFFECT RESISTED - {SUMMONING SICKNESS} (Primal) Successfully resisted effect of Teleportation. ¡°Well, that went better than expected,¡± the Hierophant announced, ¡°And you¡¯re fairly sturdy, aren¡¯t you?¡± He said to Marc. ¡°High Resilience, I guess.¡± Marc looked around the office, seeing a number of probably magical things, from large crystals to a number of wands and staves positioned around a tree. ¡°Do you know a Pyromancer named Barry by the way?¡± Roen seemed about to laugh at him, ¡°Barry? Barry Roen? My son?¡± ¡°Oh. I, uh, didn¡¯t know his last name.¡± Roen gave a chuckle, which Marc nervously joined in. ¡°Well, they¡¯ll be like that for a few minutes. How was the trip?¡± He nodded towards the other two, laugh subsiding.. ¡°A bit stressful. More fighting than I¡¯d like.¡± ¡°Well, flood coming in, im sure more than a few Dire Beasts have sprung up. But, you don¡¯t look worse for wear. Marc, right?¡± ¡°Yeah. It wasn¡¯t Dire Beasts though, some weird zombies. Creepy things.¡± Roen¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°What kind of Zombies?¡± ¡°They are called Solemn Zombies I think. Real quiet, hard to put down.¡± Nico had at least gotten his legs underneath him by now, adding, ¡° Their bite causes Silence.¡± The Hierophant closed his eyes in thought.. Lloyd had taken to just sitting on the floor, back against a wall. Marc broke the silence, ¡°And afterwards there was this person with a pet Vulture. All white, right after the Zombies were killed.¡± Roen opened his eyes and looked at Marc. ¡°That means there¡¯s a necromancer in the Sage Lands.¡± Marc looked to Nico, waiting for his response, while the elf looked to Marc. Roen continued, ¡°And they¡¯re building a horde to attack the Academy. Right in time with the flood.¡± Chapter 17: Flood Warning Silence made it harder to cast spells. Lower level spellcasters like Barry and Jacky took a few seconds to incant for simple spells. Roen¡¯s teleportation spell, even, took him a while. The Zombies were slower than walking speed, but not much. With numbers and their abilities, they were the perfect monster to distract the academy with. If this was a video game, Marc would have gotten it immediately. As it was, he was close enough to the situation that he didn''t see it coming. ¡°So, what do we do?¡± Mark asked, voice shaking, barely avoiding a stutter. Roen returned to his deep thought, almost ignoring Marc. Nico stood still as Lloyd seemed completely out of it. Nearly a minute later, Marc still couldn''t believe what he heard. Grant Roen said, ¡°You three continue your mission. Tell no one you encountered these things. I will speak with the leadership here.¡± ¡°And what about the stranger? He saw us¡± ¡°Then he will know that we know. We¡¯re prepared, and that may give him pause, or it may lead to him bringing allies. Whichever it is, we can raise the defenses and field our stronger students and alumni.¡± Nico nodded, as did Lloyd. Marc had questions, but conceded that the much more experienced mage was probably right. The Hierophant began writing on paper using a charcoal quill, before casting a spell. The paper folded itself into an origami bird and flew out of the office. Nico was fairly well recovered by this point, and was starting some tea in a miniature alchemy station within the office. Lloyd was able to shakily make his way over to the others, still looking pale. ¡°You take summoning sickness way too well Marc.¡± ¡°Boon perks. Didn¡¯t even get it from this one.¡± Roen walked over and sat down with them, engaging in tense but lighthearted conversation with Nico about how Barry and the rest of the party was. Helen was out hunting to her heart¡¯s content, Barry was having issues with his local faction leader, and Fray was planning the next big expedition. ¡°How¡¯s that one person, Guy, doing?¡± Roen asked. Nico gained a smirk before responding. ¡°Well. He¡¯s an adventurer now, doing some last minute preparation for the flood.¡± ¡°He have any interest in magic?¡± ¡°Some, but we haven¡¯t talked about it.¡± Roen asked Marc and Lloyd about Guy, who decided to play into the joke. By the time he had figured out it was Marc they were talking about, they needed to go back to the Guildhall and pick up the Philosopher. She was tall, with light brown hair, and had a pair of goggles hanging from her wrist. A number of lightly glowing potions jostled around in the pocket of what looked like a trench coat, giving her every movement a slight clinking sound. She was a mix of world war 1 soldier and steampunk doctor, and she was apparently Barry¡¯s mother. After a quick exchange of words, the group left off, a cartload of ink lighter and a secret heavier.
As the rest of the Root scurried about, getting their last heists in, the elf was plotting. Her ¡°tithe¡± was already paid for the month. She looked at her ostensible allies, the faction she was about to betray. If she went through with this and succeeded, she could never join another thieves¡¯ guild. If she failed, that wouldn''t be a worry for long.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Most of them weren¡¯t bad people. At least, not for thieves. A few other skilled members were lingering about. Kal, the human who was also a member of the Adventurers, was busy sharpening his many, many knives. Flavia, an elven noblewoman, was contemplating stealing or purchasing a Historia. Theo and Lia, the twins with easily the highest luck of the guild, were working on their sleight of hand, trying to cheat other members at cards. She looked down at the map of the city, bought from Flavia for ten leaves some years ago. The Canopy Ward was restricted to all but the nobility and their servants. Being in the Root meant that the guards knew you by face and name. She just had to go in when the guards were preoccupied. The map was one of few that had anything on the Canopy. Her mentor wanted a showing of potential. He wouldn''t sponsor her to the Paragons unless she proved herself. The plan grew in scale and complexity quickly. From hitting the private vault of one nobleman, to raiding multiple manors, and now it included taking something from the Dryad Queen herself. Stealing from nobles was one thing; she''d be punished, but not ejected. Doing so during the Flood would get her removed from the Root, but she might be able to join another guild. The Queen was off limits, the guilds patron and protector. There was no Root without the Queen. If she didn''t make a showing during this, if she didn''t gain the protection of the Paragons, she may very well be assassinated before the flood ended. ¡°Hey kiddo, talk with him yet?¡± a voice shook her from her thoughts. It was the only other person who knew about the Paragon, being the person she''d needed to pay hundreds of leaves to contact the Sharoaa in the first place. Kal was one of the few Root members who''d gotten past the first echelon, largely due to being an Adventurer as well. ¡°Yep. We''ve spoken.¡± Any hint as to her plan would make it more likely Kal could hinder her plans, but the fact she remembered him, a master rogue, speaking with her meant that he allowed her to. She had, at least temporarily, an alliance with the Paragon. The two sat in silence with each other. Both had something they could use against the other, and both knew it. He nodded, taking one of his knives out to inspect the new edge. It was an obsession of his, one that served him well as an adventurer. No one really knew much about him, other than him being from one of the nearby towns that was destroyed in a flood some decades ago. For how open he pretended to be, he had just as many secrets as they all did. Kal stood up, lifting himself off the chair and announcing, ¡°Welp, I¡¯d best be off! Gotta work with one of them Fray folk on some Dire beasts before the flood. See you ¡®round!¡± his chipper voice spread through the common area. She watched him leave, returning to her planning with the map folded up. She would need to plan for everything. While she was an expert in pickpocketing, it was far from the only skill she¡¯d cultivated in the decades of her thievery. She opened her journal, and a series of coded elvish symbols filled a new page, elaborating on the previous plans. Each one was more complete than the last, and the elf could only hope that the last one she made was complete enough.
The stranger in white marched through the snowy forest, his ever loyal vulture soaring overhead. The trio that had slain the horde were skilled, clearly, but a large enough horde, or powerful enough undead, could destroy almost anything. He sat down for the first time after walking since daybreak. It was past noon by now, and the snow kept falling. Once more, he missed home and the fresh bread he could get each day. As his companion spiraled down, he put his arm out as a perch. He slowly pet the bird. ¡°You miss home too, don¡¯t you?¡± he asked. The vulture turned to him and nodded, appreciating being pet. It was smart enough to understand language, dude to the bond they shared. He took out some meat with his other hand. It smelled horrid, but the scavenger bird didn¡¯t mind. He, himself, took out some cured meat and hard tack, and used a small knife to slice it. It made a pitiful sandwich in the stranger¡¯s mind, but his mission was more important than his comfort. There was no room for error, especially not so far from home. He was lucky to have been granted the opportunity to prove himself, and could not afford to falter or fail. Giving himself one more moment to contemplate, he turned to the vulture and nodded. The animal soared into the air, on the watch for any enemies unlucky enough to encounter the stranger. He marched once more through the frigid wilderness, observing each town in turn, slowly circling towards Grand Vale. Chapter 18: Delve into the Archives The journey back was almost unfairly easy, and it was entirely because of the philosopher. Hilda Roen was not a fighter by any means, and couldn¡¯t wield a weapon if she tried. However, being a fourth-echelon class meant that you were powerful in whatever you did by numbers alone. A single potion from her cured their shivers for the entire trip, gave them night vision, and more than doubled most of Marc¡¯s stats, the exception being Luck. They encountered some of the zombies which proved trivial, both due to the lower number and the drastic increase in stats. They were even attacked by a Dire Squirrel the size of a great dane, but Marc was able to hold it off while Lloyd killed it with his knives. Marc promised himself that he would never underestimate any animal here again. On the way back, during a period of downtime, Marc realized he could ask Hilda how to make more of his Soda-potions, and she got to work looking into it. Without even opening the bottle, she had figured out exactly what it was. The potion caused the body to revert to the state it was some short number of minutes ago. Most wounds (she suggested that dismemberment and broken bones were likely out), status effects, and poisons would be reversed. She asked for one of the bottles herself for her own experimentation, as apparently it was an incredibly low level item for the effect it granted, being an only slightly weaker version of an item that was difficult for most high second-echelon alchemists. In trade, she¡¯d give him the recipe to make more himself. Marc agreed, still hoping he¡¯d get a chance to get some more sodas later. Three days later, they arrived once more at the gates of the city. The gates themselves were reinforced. The city had a large palisade of Dryadwood, but what was once smooth lumber now had fresh bark with large, thick thorns. Thorny vines wrapped themselves around the top of the walls in their best approximation of barbed wire. The snow had reached even Grand Vale, but it was far lighter than where they had just been. Upon entering the city, they saw Barry, hair freshly cut and face freshly shaved. He still wore his (in Marc¡¯s opinion) ridiculous burlap cloak, but he looked far less unkempt than Marc had last seen him. Upon reaching each other, the mother and son embraced, before telling the trio that she¡¯d meet Nico at the guildhall later. Marc and Lloyd walked through the city streets, noticing a large increase in the number of people, even in the scarcely populated Traveler Ward. They weren¡¯t other adventurers, at least not primarily, but it seemed that most of the people within the local area retreated in to the city when a flood was coming. There were more far-flung new arrivals, including a warrior of some kind who looked exceedingly cold even under multiple layers. Looking to Lloyd, who seemed uncomfortable in the big crowd, they decided to make a bee-line for their home base.
The Society of Adventurers was packed. Unlike the rest of the faction halls that Marc had been in, this building was for administration, with housing and other purposes being secondary at best. The office staff, most of whom had a single historia and less than 10 levels, were far, far outnumbered by the people who shared their desk space for the time being. A beleaguered scribe who Marc had never learned the name of was struggling to contain his anger at the heavily tattooed adventurer brewing tea, and some of the more squeamish office staff were shying away from an adventurer that seemingly brought their own swarm of spiders into the building. ¡°Archives?¡± Lloyd asked. Mark nodded, and, after reporting with the Questmaster, they got to the archives. They were even recognized on their entry, seemingly in a good way. Marc sighed as he looked on the shelves for anything that caught his eye. ¡°So, everyone¡¯s in town now, huh?¡± He pulled out a book on some famous magic weapons and started flipping through. Lloyd pulled out one of the books on Echelonics, the fancy word for ¡°What class you may become on increasing in echelon¡±. He shrugged as he flipped to the area for rogues, far shorter than the others. ¡°I guess,¡± he said, ¡°it¡¯s an any port in a storm kind of thing? I¡¯d sure hate to be stuck in the wild when the flood happens.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Marc nodded absentmindedly, flipping from Daybreaker the Morning Spear to The Dealbreaker and saying, ¡°It¡¯s not even supposed to get here for another week.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard the flood starts and stops different places at different times. Someone said its supposed to get real bad on open water.¡± He flipped back and forth between a few pages, looking for something that he wasn¡¯t finding. ¡°So, what next? Besides figuring out what Historia you should be getting.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe do a quick hunt for some extra meat and materials? Your dumb harvesting boon would come in handy there.¡± Thinking for a moment, Marc decided to decline, ¡°No thanks. I want to spend a bit of time in the city, look around, maybe talk to some of the other factions? Maybe even see if anyone else has heard about another Wanderer or if its just me.¡± ¡°Marc, do you know anyone else with Esoteric specialty like you?¡± ¡°I. . . assumed there was someone.¡± He closed the book and began putting it back, a new goal in mind. ¡°There probably is, but everyone here is Arcane, Primal, or rare and weird like you and Fray.¡± Lloyd said. Marc began looking for a book on Esoteric. What it was, what it did, anything he could find. Lloyd, meanwhile, continued to deliberate what he could most reasonably do with the next historia. Hours later, they were still at it. After asking Kieran, the elven archivist, Marc went rifling through as many books on ¡°Sources¡± as he could find, which largely seemed to be something primarily connected to higher echelons. While Esoteric was a Source, it was uncommon at best and outright forbidden in certain factions. More space was dedicated to countering Esoteric monsters than to understanding Esoteric boons. Afterwards, he decided to look into Undead more. If there was a Necromancer, and they were not isolated to Mystle, then it would be good to know what they were up against. Thankfully, the Adventurers within the Mortocracy were, unsurprisingly in hindsight, experts on the undead, and supplied a great deal of information on them. Undead all shared the expected weakness to divine magic, generally had a weakness to fire, and were almost entirely immune to anything they weren¡¯t weak to. Regular zombies could put themselves back together from even highly skilled expert swordsmen, the only thing stopping them being either destroying the body or breaking the bones so heavily the skeleton couldn¡¯t support the weight. Ghosts, meanwhile, needed a lot of extra work to be useful. Most of what a bad ghost hunting show would feature was the result of a failed spell, where the ghost is fully intangible. A correctly summoned ghost was a nightmare to deal with, requiring magic that could affect intangible targets, or a specific weakening talisman for each individual type of ghost. Lloyd, meanwhile, had given up on the traditionally martial classes. Too many of them were either the exact opposite of what he wanted to become in the future, namely they basically forced face to face combat. Seeing what Nico could do, he decided to look into Alchemist, only to find that Rogue-Alchemist had a litany of restrictions due to primarily being poisoners. Sappers, specifically, also needed to be some form of magical class or one of a few other craftsman classes like Builder or Farmer. Others provided more interest. Chef could grant the Butcher class, and with more Rogue mixed in could turn out to be lethal knife users, though had as much of a chance to become a Hunter. Scholar and Rogue only had one recorded class it became, the Spy, which was focused more on stealth than anything else. Magical classes tended to combine with Rogue into hybrids, which Lloyd was not very interested in, though the utility was without question When both reunited, it was hours later, and each was quite hungry. One of the adventurers who was visiting, a tall human who looked like he stepped off the set of a pirate movie, had prepared some kind of pasta and was distributing it. Over their noodles, and sharing a table with the heavily tattooed ogre from before, the two shared the information they had gathered. ¡°So, Chef? For you then?¡± ¡°I¡¯m really considering it. The classes you get are also based on what you do the most, so I¡¯m probably way more likely to get Butcher, yeah? I¡¯ll bank on that.¡± The Ogre looked between the two like watching a tennis match, muttering ¡°I agree¡± sarcastically. Marc turned to him, saying ¡°You can join in if you want.¡± Leaving both the Ogre and Lloyd surprised. ¡°You know Clanspeak?¡± The ogre asked. Marc nodded, not recognizing the name but knowing that he was apparently able to speak a lot of them. ¡°Hey Marc,¡± Lloyd began, ¡°What is it like for you with that boon?¡± ¡°I¡¯m speaking the same to the both of you. From my perspective its no different.¡± The three joined in conversation for the remainder of the night. Chapter 19: Dire Jacky was a Slayer. Her job, at the end of the day, was to make sure there were fewer monsters alive that could harm people, and protect the city. She was also primarily a healer who had very few spells which could inflict lethal damage. On the surface this was a contradiction, but the Slayers of Grand Crossing knew that Jacky was easily one of their most essential members. Slayers were almost never mages. The long time it could take for the most devastating spells to be cast precluded the fast-paced combat most slayers favored. At most, some would take a Historia or two that allowed them the ability to cast simple spells. Helen was an example, where one of the few spells she had mastered created arrows. It was quick, useful, and utilized very minute amounts of mana. Jacky, meanwhile, was a fully focused spellcaster. She was the fastest of the guildhall by default. The thing so many overlooked was that she was also a Dryad. Naturally high resilience and an unshakeable connection to nature magic from birth made Dryads the best Green knights in the sage lands, bar none. For a Shaman like Jacky, it covered her weakness while further amplifying her strengths. She and Helen had been sent out to hunt down a large group of boars, including a few spotted as Dire Beasts. Normally a more melee focused Slayer would be sent for boars, but Helen¡¯s magical arrows and Jacky¡¯s earth magic meant the two had a track record. For the week they¡¯d been out, the two were catching up on what had been happening individually. ¡°So, that charity hunt got you a level? You break 40 yet?¡± Helen asked her. Knowing the skill her friend had, she¡¯d taken to calling Marc and Lloyd¡¯s first hunt a charity. Jacky didn¡¯t see it the same way, but neither did she argue the point. ¡°Not quite yet, but this should put me over. It¡¯ll definitely help me more than you.¡± ¡°Yep. Pretty nice of me, helping out a low-level like you.¡± Helen joked back. Jacky wasn¡¯t an expert in leveling up, but everyone, except maybe Marc, knew a few rules of thumb. Higher level equalled increased abilities, and each time an echelon increased it dramatically increased abilities. One, two, or even five levels difference was not that much in the grand scheme of things, but an echelon was a different story, giving an unknown number of ability increases and supposedly reforming a person¡¯s boons around their decisions and expertises. Jacky was about to retort but stopped as Helen turned to face her, eyes hardened. The two knelt to the ground and began whispering an incantation. ¡°Bones of the Earth, you have heard much. Speak now to me.¡± A Pulse of magic emanated from the two, bouncing off the small woodland creatures like an echo. When a full wave returned to them, they knew the direction to their prey, and approximately the distance to find them. Due south, only 200 feet away. The hunt was on. The two moved silently, another reason to keep them together. Jacky¡¯s locomotion made foliage move around, while Helen was simply exceptionally skilled at stealth for a non-rogue. Pushing through the trees, each began preparing for the battle to come. Jacky whispered a spell and Helen felt a familiar buzz of insects, the sensation that came whenever the dryad cast a beneficial spell. Helen began resembling a Dryad herself, with her skin hardening and growing a layer of bark. Helen, meanwhile, cast her most favored spell to conjure arrows. One of her Boons would allow her to empower them further, but that wouldnt be useful until- She saw them. Close to 60 boars in total, a dozen of which were Dire. Dire beasts were not actual animals, but did generate around them. When mana grew too dense within an area, it would take on a form similar to something else nearby, and thus a Dire beast was formed. The more mana, the more, or larger, the beast. Unlike the local elementals, however, Dire beast meat, though tough and low quality, was edible and valued for its large quantity.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. She ascended to the treetops, with Jacky right behind her, only a branch lower. Drawing a conjured arrow, she used her boon. The head spiraled into a corkscrew and grew impossibly sharp. She took aim for the largest. It had more tusks and horns than a normal Boar should, with a central horn protruding from between its eyes. They were dumb creatures, but dangerous and well armored. She drew the arrow back. Below her, Jacky began casting a spell, causing some of the boars to search for the noise. The largest wouldn¡¯t get a chance to, with Helen loosing the arrow. As it collided with the oversized skull, the arrow bored deeper in, eventually shattering the bone. Whether it was alive or just paralyzed, it would not join the rest of the fight. Jacky¡¯s spell went off, and the roots of the forest rose to pull the mass into the ground. Some of the normal boars were slain by the force of her magic alone, while the rest were hindered heavily. The dryad immediately began casting another spell, one Helen recognized but could likely never cast. Helen repeated the process of picking off another Dire, then another, before the remaining 9 broke free from Jacky¡¯s bindings one after the other. Helen drew one of her non-conjured arrows from her quiver, and shot it into the ground. Thick thorns spread from the point of impact, climbing over some of the normal boars and skewering them. The Dires, meanwhile, saw their new target and were preparing to charge. After shooting one more briar arrow, they did. Though neither noticed at first, there was a shimmer in the air, just past the first boar Helen slew. The dire boars didn¡¯t really care about their mundane cousins, trampling any that were in the way. The briars shredded them as they moved along, even felling one which charged into a thorn at just the wrong angle. Jacky was still chanting, and would need more time for her spell to be ready, as Helen used a new spell she¡¯d only learned recently. Despite her occasional aggravation with him, Barry was exceptionally good when it came to finding spells. The arrowhead ignited with a candle¡¯s flame. Loosing, the flame stayed ignited, until it hit into the closest charging monster. On impact, the scent of wood smoke filled the air and the monster burst into flame. Smoke quickly filled the area, and Helen knew that she had, slightly, miscast the spell. It was supposed to be more fire than smoke, but it seemed either had disoriented the charging boars enough to buy them the few seconds Jacky needed. The earth quaked as the two slayers were lifted even further into the air. The shimmer intensified, and Jacky started to notice a surge in raw mana, but brushed it off as part of her own spell. An elemental sprung from the ground, looking like a turtle made of stone and earth. As it stomped the ground, more vines, roots, and briars wrapped the boars up. The Dires that recovered and shook free charged the turtle, only to break horn and tusk against its stony scales. Helen, after recatching her balance, took more shots at the monsters, not bothering with using more magical arrow shots as merely maintaining her aim was difficult atop the elemental. Each time a boar gouged into her summoned elemental, Jacky¡¯s healing spell was ready. Helen¡¯s arrows struck with such force that destroyed any full charge. It was looking to be a total victory for the slayers. But, as Jacky looked up across the small battlefield in the woods, she fully noticed the shimmer. The dryad called to Helen. She pointed to the center, where some of the mundane boars were still trapped or slain. Like failing invisibility magic, something broke through in the shape of a snout. Then, tusks followed it. Helen cursed internally. This monster was to the Dire boars what they were to normal boars. Rare though they were, there were records of monsters like this in the Slayers¡¯s Society catalogues. Called Primeval beasts, they only appeared during exceptionally bad floods, especially in the otherwise placid Sage Lands. It stood taller than the trees, its tusks thicker than their trunks, and its hooves were large enough around to eclipse a bear. The titanic boar looked at the two slayers. It stomped the ground, and the trees shook. It breathed out, and the fire extinguished. It stepped over its living and dead cousins with no regard, and with an uncanny intelligence in its eyes, it charged away into the forest, toppling trees with each footfall. Awe simmering down, the Slayers looked at their dead quarry. One dozen Dire beasts, and nearly 50 normal ones, all dead or dying. Their mission was complete, and the city was in even more danger than before. A danger they could not contend with. The Primeval Boar had to be stopped, but couldn¡¯t be by them. They needed to get back to the city. Chapter 20: At Last! Rats! Marc woke up the next day later than usual. Without an alarm clock, he had only his habits to rely on, but weeks in the wilderness, with watch schedules through the nights, had thrown that out of balance as well. Looking around he remembered where he was. The normal 2 person rooms they typically stayed in were occupied already, so the communal bunks were all that was left. Even then, almost a dozen extra cots were set up, some people doubled up, and there were still others who had to lay on the floor. While some of the adventurers were rising for the day, most remained asleep after a heavy night of drinking or simply being night owls. Marc checked over his things, and went off towards the Archives. With the number of people, he knew that the usual washrooms would be completely full, and was hoping that some of the lesser known ones would be available. He was correct, and while there were a few others inside, he was able to clean himself off and change clothes. The clothes he bought after his first hunt were cheap in all the right places. They, like his other clothing, were undyed and plain, but thick enough to offer some shielding from the threats of the world. The clothes he appeared with called itself armor, but he was still in search of some leather or even lighter metal pieces to give him something more than high resilience to rely upon. Less than an hour after sunrise, Marc was on the streets. He and Lloyd had agreed to split up for a bit, Lloyd going for a somewhat supervised hunt, while Marc would search for some of the items they wanted to get, namely someone trustworthy to buy Historia from. He figured that, with the leaves he had, around 70 tucked away in his backpack, he could also look for armor in earnest. He set off towards the market square. The square itself was an intimidating thing to walk into. At least a hundred tents and stalls spread across an area flanked by tall buildings primarily owned by factions. There was one massive tent at the center, full of all sorts of valuables and monster parts, with a number of protective enchantments and wards permeating the air. Entering was like walking through a wall of thick air. Almost no one was there when Marc entered. The Market was open every day, but adventurers kept odd hours, even the ones who sold things. Berk, the grumpy old Slayer, was there, but none of the armorsmiths Marc had seen in past visits. He walked over to the Slayer. ¡°Hm? Yer up early. Still not dead?¡± ¡°Not yet, though the monsters are trying.¡± ¡°Feh! Well, gonna buy somethin¡¯ or chat?¡± Marc looked over what Berk had laid out. Most of it was foodstuff, monster meat and the like, but some of it was more exotic ingredients. The Spine Deer velvet was gone, but there were a few phials of Bunnyhawk venom and some Dire Hawk pinions. ¡°Not today. Was looking for armor but I don¡¯t know anyone outside of this tent.¡± ¡°Armor? Still preppin¡¯ for yer last trip out? Awful late, kid.¡± Berk gave a disapproving look. ¡°Oh, we already did it! I¡¯m looking for armor for the next one. Which will be after. . .¡± Marc trailed off. Berk gave a nod of understanding, before looking around the tent. ¡°Well. Jacky says yer takin¡¯ the hits for her? Yer gonna want metal for that, ¡®less yer boons only good for leather.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think they do, why?¡± ¡°Given yev sold all yer hauls to me, I know ¡®round how much coin you got. An¡¯ that won''t pay for steel. Not if the steel¡¯s made to last.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Marc shrugged. One more job without armor would hopefully not be too much to handle alone. ¡°So, know of any jobs that could get me over the line?¡± Berk gave a big grin. ¡°Marc, how''d you like to catch some rats? They¡¯re infestin¡¯ some noblefolk¡¯s basements.¡± Rats in a basement. Marc almost burst out laughing at the cliche, but kept his composure as much as possible. ¡°Would. . . wouldn¡¯t a rat trap work?¡± ¡°Yeh, we all ask that. No.¡± Berk moved everything within the stall slightly, checking to see something, before stepping out and casting a spell over it. Marc didn¡¯t even know Berk could use magic, and yet the entire area sealed shut with a cascade of locking sounds. ¡°Yer gonna need my help gettin¡¯ in to the Canopy. Stay close¡±. A job now on the table, Marc shrugged and followed the man. This was his goal for the day anyways.
Berk, for his apparent age (Marc would get mid-60¡¯s), moved with a lot more grace than it would seem. He strode through the streets with Marc needing to jog once or twice. Even the elevation changes didn¡¯t seem to affect him. He had a small messenger bag that Marc was guessing to be a Vracht pack. Despite his ease through the city, he did complain about something seemingly every thirty seconds. Most of it was under his breath, but a few times he pulled Marc aside and advised him of what not to do. His biggest issue was with the Thieves¡¯ guild growing more and more bold in who they¡¯d rob. Eventually, after about 2 miles of walking, they arrived at a wall seeming made of trees. Unlike those to enter the city, looking wild and ragged, these were contained and elegant. Marc had a feeling they were probably made of a different kind of tree, or at least some other version of Dryadwood. There were two guards standing at a flat section of the wall looking at Berk. Both of them were dryads, and didn¡¯t give Marc a second thought. ¡°It¡¯s Berk. Here for the Rodaan catch. He¡¯s with me, name¡¯s Marc.¡± One of the Dryads nodded, and a gateway opened into the Canopy ward. For the first time, one spoke, ¡°Make no trouble within, Marc.¡± Looking directly at him, though it felt like they were looking through him instead. He nodded and followed Berk through the archway. Immediately, the look of the city changed. The streets looked like some of the best hardwood floors from modern America, and the houses sprawled into the sky. Each one seemingly had a tree popping out of the roof, giving the house itself shade. Each residence was close to the size of the Adventurer¡¯s HQ building. A subtle earthy smell pervaded the ward. Most of the people were Drayds, with a few Icess and Humans as well, and the rare Snow Elf. ¡°C¡¯mon, no good starin¡¯. Rodaan¡¯s this way.¡± Berk said, directing Marc towards where they needed to go. People stared at Marc, but upon noticing Berk a number of them waved. ¡°So, you do this often?¡± ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯m good at. Pays well enough. An¡¯ I¡¯m known here.¡± Marc nodded. They kept ascending the city by elevation, and for the first time Marc could clearly see the castle where the Dryad Queen lived, before they moved further towards their destination. ¡°Folks up here, they appreciate keepin¡¯ quiet. Few Floods ago, there was this great big pack¡¯a Dire Moles tunnelin¡¯ under the city. After it ended, rats kept poppin¡¯ up, enough to make a big aura of disease. So, they call a slayer that can keep his mouth shut.¡± He gestured to himself. ¡°And. . . you¡¯re who they call whenever they need an exterminator?¡± ¡°Yep. Pays well, sticks ya in the city, and if you don¡¯ do somethin¡¯ stupid they might ask for you too.¡± ¡°But didn¡¯t you just tell me everything they want people not to know?¡± ¡°You hear about rats in the canopy before this hour?¡± Marc shook his head no. ¡°Then that means its workin¡¯. No use to have you dead to rats though.¡± Without any good response, he continued forward. Within a few minutes they got to the residence. An Elf stood outside, clearly not a Snow Elf given he was not paper white, and had a wide smile upon seeing Berk. ¡°Mr. Berk! Sir Rodaan will be pleased to see you. We weren¡¯t expecting you until later in the month, so this is a welcome surprise. And, your new apprentice?¡± He didn¡¯t seem to mean the welcome surprise part, and looked at Marc like he were expired bread ¡°Rham, good to see you. This here¡¯s Marc, new Adventurer.¡± ¡°Wonderful,¡± The elf lied. ¡°Well, Mr. Berk, Marc, please follow me.¡± Into the manor they went, off to kill Marc¡¯s first (presumably giant) rats. Chapter 21: Hail the King Rodaan ended up being a foreign diplomat from Teferet, the ¡°Kingdom of Long Rivers¡±. Given the wealth on display, Rodaan was likely a very wealthy man, if the fully staffed manor in the richest part of a foreign capitol wasn¡¯t obvious enough. He was also, as it turned out, a human. ¡®So don¡¯t anger him. Got it.¡¯ Marc thought to himself. The man himself was well kept, wearing multiple layers of close-fitting robes dyed a rich blue. Underneath was polished copper jewelry inlaid with rubies and sapphires. He sat in a large study lit and heated (a bit too warmly for Marc¡¯s taste) by a roaring fireplace. A number of servants accompanied the adventurers, and opened doors as they entered. He looked up as they entered, unamused until recognizing the veteran slayer. He broke into a smile that met his eyes. ¡°Ah! Berk, it is nice to see you again.¡± The nobleman said, putting the book onto a side table and turning to face them. Rham spoke up then, ¡°Sir, this is Marc, an adventurer whom Mr. Berk. trusts. He will be assisting on the task.¡± Marc nodded, unsure of how to respond or otherwise address him. ¡°Welp, Rodaan, I¡¯d love to catch up and talk ¡®bout ol¡¯ times, but we got a job to do.¡± ¡°Of course! Listen to Berk¡¯s words, young man. He¡¯s made it far for a reason.¡± Rodaan said in a teacherly tone. Marc was about to respond when Berk and the servants began moving them out of the study, and Rodaan picked up his book. He nodded, unsure if the noble could see him, and was swept out, through a number of hallways and to a large, sturdy wooden door with a thick padlock. Rham pulled out a key and handed it to Berk. There was an odd, silent exchange between them that Marc couldn¡¯t decode, but it passed soon enough. The door was unlocked, and into the basement they went. In search of Rats.
¡°So, whatcha think of Rodaan?¡± Berk asked him. The outsider really didn¡¯t have any opinion, besides the immediately evident. ¡°He¡¯s Rich.¡± ¡°Aw, gotta give me more¡®n that. Anythin¡¯?¡± ¡°I met him for all of, what, 1 minute? He¡¯s a rich man from Teferet.¡± ¡°Well, not wrong. Just think it through.¡± He said, before concentrating to cast a spell. From his eyes shone two large beams of light. He had become a human flashlight. The cellar itself was well kept, given the protection. There were a number of what looked like artifacts, but Marc was never much of a historian. These things could be invaluable or they could be dime-a-dozen. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could use magic.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± He said with an air of finality. Marc nodded, though Berk was turned away, and they continued to the end of the cellar. There were no rats to be seen, but a trapdoor provided them the way down. Berk opened the door, and gestured with his hand. ¡°After you.¡± Marc looked down, saw a ladder leading down, and began climbing. It only took him about eight feet down, but they¡¯d left the house for the tunnels. ¡°Here¡¯s where the rats¡¯ll be. If you start feelin¡¯ queasy, speak up cause that¡¯s them.¡± ¡°How far down are they usually?¡± He still didn¡¯t see anything, even with Berk¡¯s Eye-Lights. They were just stone-hewn tunnels, roughly carved. ¡°Half hour¡¯s walk is usually enough. That¡¯s the reason they get me, don¡¯t want to dirty their house guard¡¯s fancy clothes.¡± ¡°So they. . . pay more for an adventurer to go down than just clean it?¡± ¡°You really like questionin¡¯ why a wasp hasn¡¯t stung you, huh?¡± ¡°I just don¡¯t understand what they get. It costs more, it doesn¡¯t show status. . . So why?¡± ¡°Think it through.¡± He said, and the two descended. The tunnels were dark but surprisingly dry. Marc was expecting dripping water, or pools of stagnant mud, but if there was any water in the system it was further down. Thankfully his boon gave him enough stability on this technically natural terrain to walk close to full speed. Berk could as well, though Marc didn¡¯t know why.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Hell, the veteran didn¡¯t even have a weapon in hand. Marc was about to ask him a question, before pausing. He¡¯d just be told to think it through anyways. Why would they hire Berk? Rich people, or really anyone, would only hire an adventurer for a few reasons he could think of. If it was neither cheaper to hire him, nor a status move, what other reason would there be? He puzzled over it more. In the near-silence, the two went further and further down. There was an odd sense of expectation, like the seconds before a jumpscare in a horror movie. Then, the tickle on the back of his throat started. It was barely noticeable at first, but grew in intensity. He knew this feeling, always an omen of an oncoming sickness in the past. ¡°Berk, I feel something.¡± ¡°Damn, you are sturdy. They should be only a bit aways, I was worried we¡¯d need to go even deeper.¡± There was a heat from the walls that made itself apparent to the touch now, though not quite as warm as Rodaan¡¯s study. Given how many of his house guard were seemingly also from Teferet, the entire building was probably warmer, given it seemed to be some kind of fantasy-egypt. Then, it clicked. ¡°Trust¡± Marc said, catching Berk¡¯s attention. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°I - Are there ever more than rats?¡± ¡°Not often.¡± ¡°But sometimes.¡± Marc replied with some certainty. Berk nodded without turning back to face him,, the light flashing over unmarked rock. ¡°If their house guard dies, they need to find someone they can trust. They only need to trust you to complete one job.¡± Berk didn¡¯t say anything, but turned to the side and gave Marc the first genuine smile he¡¯d seen on the man¡¯s face since. . . well, since they¡¯d first met. They continued in silence, and Marc began thinking out his other questions. Berk could cast magic, maybe he could do something like Fray and summon a weapon? What did he mean by - The heard movement. Like dog¡¯s nails on concrete, they echoed quietly though the stone tunnels. Marc pulled his axe off his back, while Berk reached out to the stone wall and pulled out a pair of sabers, still made of stone. He then began chanting another spell, and Marc moved in front of him, widening his stance as Fray had taught him. The light from Berk¡¯s eyes hovered out, following him on its own. The stepped forward quietly. Each time they rounded a corner, their eyes racing to find the source of the noises getting closer. Finally, they saw it. A rat. The size of a chihuahua. Marc was almost disappointed it wasn¡¯t larger, before remembering the ferocity of the Dire squirrel he¡¯d fought only a few days prior. The monster, if it could be called that, seemed utterly unfazed by their arrival, and kept scurrying around. Marc turned a bit, asking, ¡°Aren¡¯t they. . . supposed to be dangerous?¡± ¡°Huh. This one isn¡¯t part of the king yet.¡± ¡°King?¡± A mass of rats with their tails knotted tightly together rounded a far corner, eyes glowing red, and charged towards them. Marc prepared a charge, but Berk was faster, rocketing from his position with the sabers stretched out. Marc followed behind, passing the ¡°normal¡± sized rat which seemed just as startled by the amalgam as they were. Berk got the first strike in, a cut from his left hand weapon. Marc couldnt see if the strike hit anything important, as his own weapon followed after. The Rat King was large enough, close to the size of the spider, that both could swing their weapons against it without interfering with each other. His first hit split a rat in two, with a gurgling noise as he withdrew the weapon. Berk called in a low tone, ¡°Don¡¯t hit the tails!¡± as he jammed his swords into two separate rats, puncturing through a number of others. Marc swung again and again, his clothes getting scratched and bit, but thankfully nothing really getting through to his skin. Berk was holding up fairly similarly, now with a long stone spear in hand. This was going very well, as far as Marc was concerned. Then, their light flickered out. Marc had no way of seeing, and presumably Berk didn¡¯t either. Marc stood in place, knowing that even if he swung wildly he couldn¡¯t hit Berk unless they both moved. The slayer swords up and down, but Marc heard no footsteps over the thrashing rats. He felt their claws or fangs or whatever they were using finally begin to puncture his flesh, and used Estrange without thinking. There was a dull blue light glowing over the Rat King as it was sent sailing through the air with immense force, into a wall no more than ten feet away. Hitting with a crash and the sound of crunching bones, the Rat King was more damaged by Estrange than anything else Marc had done. Meanwhile a Tablet appeared. ESTRANGE Special Ability used All damage from incoming attack negated. Estrange cannot be used again for 1 minute Special ability cannot be used again for 1 day The tablet seemed to glow in the dark, but shed no light of its own. Berk cast his spell again, and the light reappeared. The Rat King was more dead than alive at this point, and it didn¡¯t take much for the duo to finish them off. Even the ones that weren¡¯t dead were injured, and any scratches or bites couldn¡¯t get through Marc¡¯s clothes. Berk, meanwhile, was looking over his shoulder. Something had spooked him, and he was clearly paranoid about it. ¡°Well, job well done?¡± Marc asked the older man. ¡°More rats to come. That won¡¯t be the only king, just the weakest.¡± ¡°That why you¡¯re looking over your shoulder?¡± ¡°No. Don¡¯t worry ¡®bout that.¡± Marc, unconvinced, followed Berk further underneath the city. Chapter 22: Cat and Mouse They kept going further and further down. The rat, the one that wasn¡¯t part of the rat king, could be heard behind them, claws scraping stone. Marc kept looking over his shoulder. ¡°Is that normal?¡± he asked ¡°Not common, but not a bad sign.¡± Berk responded. He was still distracted by whatever it was that was on his mind. There were forks in the stone and soil tunnels. They differed in size greatly, from large enough for an eighteen-wheeler to fit through to barely large enough for Berk and Marc to go through side-by-side. There were piles of gravel, dirt, and some collapsed rock, but it seemed that the dire moles made their burrows relatively stable. Relatively. To avoid wondering if every noise he heard was the tunnels collapsing, he focused instead on the feeling of nausea growing in his stomach. It felt like he¡¯d eaten just a little too much, or gotten off a very bumpy road. If Berk felt the same way, he didn''t show it. Only a little later they heard the writhing mass. Berk''s light spell illuminated another rat king, larger, more vicious, but thankfully less mobile than the first. As they stopped to draw weapons, the singular rat came to their ankles, as if hiding behind them for protection. ¡°Heh, yer a smart one, huh,¡± Berk said, kneeling to pat it fur. The rat recoiled at first but stayed still enough. The older man looked to Marc, eyes growing serious once more. ¡°Regular rats ain''t the issue. It''s the kings. No one knows how they get made, but once they do they grab as many normal rats as possible, like this one. Add ''em together, and you get a strong disease aura, and a call to me.¡± Marc nodded, axe drawn. The rat nuzzled into Berk''s hand. The king in front of them was stuck at one of the narrow sections of the cavern, and it looked like some earth had collapsed onto it as well. As Marc and Berk were about to go in for their second fight, the light went out again.
The elf wound her way through street after alleyway. Her soon-to-be sponsor gave her exact instructions, and made it clear than following them perfectly was needed. If this was a test, it was an annoying one though, seeing as the location they met at was the Graveyard behind the Temple of the Allfaith. Nevertheless, she followed it to the letter, standing before a gravestone. Barnabas Hough. Cherished Parishioner. There was no date, no other information. She didn''t detect the Paragon, but he could be standing right in front of her and his Stealth boons would ensure she never knew. Her own Stealth boon was good for city rogues, but certainly far from the best, only hiding her when she was around other people. At higher echelons it would improve or change, depending on what she did with it. Depsite that, she was happy that he graveyard was otherwise empty, and removed something from her bag. A small bottle of some alchemical thing was poured over the grave drop by drop. Each time it hit the top of the stone, it soaked into the old marker, transforming it from what it was into a deep brown sludge. At the sound of people nearing, she stopped and hid away. As they passed, she continued. It took minutes, and even her patience was waring thin. But she¡¯d make it last. She had to. When it had dissolved completely, the Sharoaa made himself known, standing in a bright spot several feet away. ¡°Ah, poor Barnabas.¡± He said, voice no more than a whisper. ¡°Who was he?¡± She asked, ¡°Cherished Parishioner isn''t exactly descriptive.¡± ¡°Oh, he was no one. An old gravestone that blends in with all the others. I put it here a few hours ago.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°So. . .what did we get from this?¡± ¡°The thing you¡¯ve figured out, and the thing that I¡¯ve figured out.¡± After the assault on her patience just before, she was done with riddles, ¡°Can we please get on with this? We have other things to plan.¡± ¡°Patience is a necessity for a Paragon. But, you¡¯ve been very patient, so let me tell you a story of Floods past.¡± He gestured for her to walk with him, and so they travelled the graveyard. ¡°What do you think the most dangerous monster that spawns during the Flood is?¡± ¡°Dragons?¡± ¡°Across the world, yes. Dragons wreak the most havoc across the most cities, when they are wont to do so. The flood drives them mad, though the strongest can resist it and the weak tend to sleep through it.¡± He nodded, asking another question, ¡°And what is the most helpful monster?¡± ¡°I. . . guess whatever the largest dire beast there is? For their meat.¡± Monster and helpful did not belong together, but if she looked at it more pragmatically. . . ¡°Not quite, but I see where your head is at. Would you like to guess again?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± ¡°For us, today, it is the humble Dire Mole. Claws strong enough to bore through stone, and an intensified aversion to light. They tend to starve to death once the flood is over, leaving behind large tunnels populated by only pests.¡± ¡°So, we need to find their tunnels?¡± ¡°Oh, no. Their tunnels were made a few floods ago. A slayer explained it to an apprentice this morning. That one you won¡¯t steal from.¡± Berk, he meant. ¡°So, that¡¯s our way in? Not getting in with the crowd.¡± She asked, somewhat disappointed that her planning was going to waste. ¡°You idea was excellent, but what are the streets made of?¡± ¡°Dryadwood, why?¡± ¡°And the queen is a Dryad. I have been experimenting in the canopy. They can tell where we are if we¡¯re on the streets.¡± Her eyes widened. ¡°We need to go by air, or beneath the roots.¡± She thought to the grave, ¡°We¡¯re getting in through here.¡± ¡°And right into the nobles basements. If i can steal some Half-Salt from the Philosopher who just walked into town, we have a way into the palace as well.¡± The elf nodded. The plan changed, but the end result was the same. Returning to the gravestone of Barnabas, she saw that there was a small hole, right into a large tunnel. ¡°Shall we map it out?¡± he asked.
The second rat king lay dead on the ground. Most of the fight was done in darkness due to the light spell being countered multiple times. Berk was somewhere between livid and convinced he was going insane. ¡°Maybe we should just go back up.¡± Marc suggested. They had done their job, as far as Marc could tell. Two rat kings slain, and anything larger would also be prevented from going forward by the narrowness of the passageway. Not to mention, his nausea was receding, not growing. ¡°Hmm. You ain¡¯t wron¡¯.¡± He turned and looked back the way they came. The normal rat (Marc was still not used to calling a dog-sized rodent normal, but after the other things he¡¯d seen it was somewhat comforting) was still standing there, looking into the darkness of the tunnels. Berk turned his head towards Marc, ¡°Let¡¯s jus¡¯ check one of the other forks. Jus¡¯ in case.¡± The continued on. The rat actually hopped up onto Berk, who must have allowed it since he had quicker reflexes than anyone Marc knew. Except maybe Fray. The duo plus ¡°recruit¡± went down the closest fork they couldnt see the end of, only to find it became a drop down, far deeper. There were echoes of something coming from below, but Marc felt his stomach settle ever since the second¡¯s death. Berk looked down, and they could see it was a spiral. Probably easy enough for a mole to get into and out of, but it would take a human (or farlander) a lot more time. Marc grabbed a rock from nearby and tossed it down. A few seconds later, they heard it splash into water. ¡°Well, any rat down there¡¯d be more than we can handle. Back up to the top, ¡®spose.¡± As Berk turned around, his light spell went out again. ¡°Damn it to -¡± Marc heard the sound of Berk getting hit, hard in the chest. The Rat squealed, and Marc felt as it grabbed onto his clothes, clearly jumped from Berk. In the darkness, he couldnt see anything, until he felt a strong impact on his side. He tried to keep his balance, but there was no floor where he stepped. He was tumbling down the chute, feeling his wrist make a hard landing against the far wall, only for him to keep going down. He felt the water wash up and around him, distant walls only illuminated by glowing mushrooms. The rat had hung on to him, and was standing atop his head, while Marc was left to tread water in utter darkness. Chapter 23: And the Trap Goes. . . Marc tried not to think about the rat on his head. Looking around, there was only one source of light. Well, source may be saying too much. It was one of his tablets, as out of place as they¡¯d ever been. SURVIVALIST - 102% -> ADEPT SURVIVALIST 2% The bare elements are gentle toward the wanderer. Day or night, snow or shine, the wanderer¡¯s place is ever the road. Greatly reduces the effects of all natural damage. Reduces natural hindrances on all senses. Significantly increases stability on non-magical terrain. Able to loot [25%] of monster valuables. Increases Wanderlust > ACCEPT Marc looked at it, absentmindedly hitting the accept button before fully internalizing that Wanderlust may not be a good thing. The rat squeaked atop his head and he realized that, despite him not feeling chilled from being plunged into water, he was still in water. His axe, thankfully, was harnessed to his pack, which didn¡¯t seem to be filling with gallons of water quite yet. Looking around in the dark, he could see just about nothing. His eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness, but if the boon¡¯s upgrade applied instantly, he couldn¡¯t notice anything. ¡°Berk?!¡± He called out, only for an echo to ring through the large chamber. ¡°O¡¯er here!¡± was the response, and Marc saw the light spell¡¯s shine in the distance. He must have swum quickly to get over there, and his clothing was more torn. Marc swam to the light as quickly as he could, and was helped up onto the smooth stone by the older man. ¡°Thanks. What was that?¡± ¡°Could be anythin''. But it''s been followin¡¯ us since the first rat king. We should get out quick, before it can find us again.¡± He replied. The rat stayed atop Marc¡¯s head as they continued further in the tunnels, seemingly enjoying its new height. Berk¡¯s light spell, now hovering above his open palm, gave them light in all directions. Berk shivered in his wet clothes, but otherwise seemed unharmed. ¡°Any more rats this way?¡± Marc asked, but Berk shook his head. ¡°Can¡¯t be sure one way or the other.¡± After a few minutes, thankfully drying off in the process more and more, Berk coughed, bringing them to a slower walk forward. Marc began feeling the scratching at the back of his throat. Another king was nearby. Berk grabbed his shoulder, ¡°Hey, you¡¯ve seen me do it twice, your turn now. I¡¯ll keep whatever¡¯s been turning off our lights away.¡± Marc nodded, drawing his axe and moving forward carefully. Then, he saw it. A tangled mess of vermin, tails knotted so tightly that he doubted a sailor could free them. Marc drew back, and as the king noticed him in full, he charged forward. He scored first blood, slicing through the first rat. Each individual ¡°piece¡± of the king was no tougher than normal, their hide not thicker, fur no more resilient. Their defenses were probably worse than if they were just a swarm of rabid rats. They more than made up for it with their offensive abilities. Even injured, the first rat was trying to sink its fangs into him, and the aura only made fighting more difficult. Pressure was mounting in Marc¡¯s sinuses, and the urge to cough kept creeping up. The fact that they didn¡¯t care about pain (or rather, they only grew angrier when it was inflicted) made them terrifyingly ferocious compared even compared to the undead he¡¯d fought. Swinging away at the horde, Marc was using all of his training to keep just out of range. Thankfully his axe gave him reach against them. One Rat from the king managed to bite him, barely grazing his arm before being bashed into a nearby wall. Marc realized that, if one latched onto him, it would be very, very bad. A sneeze was building as well, only adding to the difficulty.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. He really wished he¡¯d gotten armor beforehand now. One, two, three more killed, and still there were over a dozen more alive. As one bit his ankle, the light went out again, and Marc gave a startled shout. This time, it latched on. Marc felt a series of bites and claw slashes against him, digging into his flesh. Remembering his boon at the right time, he pulled on the invisible limb that was Estrange, and sneezed at the same time. The blue light pulsed out, and would be invisible if it weren¡¯t for the pitch darkness around them. Marc was given a moment of relief from the pain and sinus pressure, but unlike before Estrange was not nearly as powerful. He felt as his blood dripped down his leg and arms where bitten, and a tablet appeared EFFECT RESISTED - {VERMINOUS PLAGUE} (Natural) Successfully resisted effect of Rat King¡¯s Bite. Whatever it was, he couldn¡¯t imagine it was good. The light still out, Marc had to use his ears to try and find where the rat king was. He focused on the noises around him, only to hear Berk struggling behind. He swung wildly at the clack of claws on stone. He caught something, but it continued. Another cleaving swing, and another, and another. When he heard the clatter move away, he stopped swinging, only to realize that the sounds of Berk were also gone. Lost in the dark, with only the normal rat atop his head, Marc was fully alone. He stood in darkness for a short while, waiting for any kind of light to appear. If his eyes had adjusted to the light, it wasn¡¯t enough to make a difference now. Thankfully, at least the pressure in his head was going down. Each rat king so far had made him feel a different kind of sick, but this last one was the worst so far. ¡°Berk?¡± he called out, voice echoing down the tunnels. There was no response. Berk had either left him or was incapacitated, hopefully not dead, to whatever it was that kept countering the light spell. Not knowing where the ground was, Marc used the one tool he had. Using his axe like a makeshift cane for the blind, he felt along the ground. He knew his goal was to go uphill, at least in general, though he had no idea how far down they had been even before the fall into the pool. As long as he was going up, he should be going the right direction. . . probably. Slowly but surely, Marc moved forward. It took hours. His method of ¡°just go uphill¡± didn¡¯t last too long. He reached a point where everywhere was downhill from there, and there was still no light. Even still, he knew that he could very well be traveling in the wrong direction, right to a dead end. The rat squeaked and even hissed at one point during the travel, which Marc hoped meant something. The animals in this world were smarter than normal, so it might be helping him out. That¡¯s what he told himself, at least. With the overall goal of getting out, Marc relied on squeaks, the direction of uphill, and a general avoidance of the sick feelings caused by the Rat Kings to guide his path.
The Paragon had cast a darksight spell on her, which required almost as much trust in him as reaching out in the first place. Still, it meant that she could see in the abyssal darkness without much hindrance. She was in charge of filling in the map, and the exploration had taken hours so far. Thankfully, no one was expecting either of them. ¡°Perks of being a thief, I guess,¡± she thought. One of the passageways had a loud grinding sound, like someone was using a grindstone all the way down here. With the other passageways either dead ends or going in completely wrong directions, they had to go that way. The most bizarre part of the tunnels was the number of freshly killed rats. Their blood made the Sharoaa¡¯s nose wrinkle in disgust, and the elf was thankful she didn¡¯t yet have that level of perception. She wondered what would have killed them, until the grinding grew louder still. The Paragon grabbed her arm, and put his finger to his mouth. The two stood off to the side of a tunnel, and saw him. A human with an axe, rat atop his head. This one was alive at least. His axe was propped out in front of him, grinding against the stone. The rat locked eyes with her, then her mentor. The human¡¯s axe caught against a wall, and he turned, walking straight towards them. He was covered in dark liquid, arms, legs, even his axe. Without any light to give color meaning, she couldn¡¯t be sure what it was, but she had an idea. His eyes reflected no light, they focused on nowhere, but he marched towards them in a steady, terrifying gait. Her mentor disappeared from her sight, stealth boon fully activated. She felt around only to realize that her daggers were still sitting in her pack. He was only a few feet away now, and smelled of blood. It was like his eyes were looking into her soul. The rat hissed. The human stopped. ¡°Alright. . .¡± he mumbled, though the noise alone was nearly inaudible over the pounding of her heartbeat. He turned and walked the way they came, a threat for another time. After her mentor¡¯s stealth had receded, they both stood stock still for minutes. Looking to her mentor, she gave him a quizzical look. After the grinding faded down a bit, he said, ¡°No need to fight the local lunatic. Lets keep going.¡± She pulled one of her daggers from her pack and tucked it into her belt, hoping to never encounter him again. Chapter 24: SNAP! Marc wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed, but his legs and feet were telling him to stop. He decided, for the first time in hours, to sit down. Finding a nearby wall, he put his back to it and slowly slid down. He was fairly certain his feet had blisters, despite how comfortable his one pair of sandals were. The rat chittered and jumped to his shoulder. His ally hadn¡¯t led him wrong so far, but that ally was still a rat. Without some extra magic, it was just a smarter than normal animal. ¡°So, think I¡¯ll get sent to another world?¡± He asked the rat. It made noises in response. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t speak rat,¡± He sighed. ¡°This was a mistake.¡± He sat there for a while. His legs hurt less, but they were also feeling more stiff the longer he sat down. Deciding to take off his pack, he opened his inventory tablet. INVENTORY Wanderer¡¯s Armor (Cloth, Mundane) Axe of Iron Mountain (Iron, Mundane, E1/L12*) Outsider¡¯s Locus (Container, Esoteric) Potion of Past Steps (Healing, Consumable, Esoteric, E1/L1) x1 Attunement Lozenge (Consumable, Esoteric) x10 Constellation Dagger (Iron, Esoteric, E1/L1) He looked it over. His axe had leveled up, meaning he must have at some point in the caverns. The notification system seemed to prioritize boons and status effects, rather than levels like a normal game. He¡¯d gained two stacks of Sightseeker just in the tunnels, and even tried using the tablets like a flashlight, but they didn¡¯t shine on anything. He read through things again. He had one soda-potion, but wasn¡¯t that injured. The other two items he had never even looked at, and now was regretting not having Nico do so. Or even Barry¡¯s mom. Rummaging through the Locus, the dagger and one of the lozenges found their way into his hand, as if they were moving on their own. The dagger itself did have a faint glow, but like with the light of Estrange it was too dim to really use. The lozenge felt like it was wrapped, like a cough drop. Marc started looking at the dagger. Constellation Dagger (Iron, Esoteric, E1/L1) A dagger connected to the Constellation of the Northern Stake, which acts as the North Star. Cannot harm Outsiders or Starspawn. Often scores critical hits. Damage increases the further north one is. ¡°Hmm. Maybe I should have been using this the entire time,¡± The rat made more noises. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I¡¯ll see if Lloyd wants this,¡± he replied, assuming what the rat had said. Truth be told he would be terrible with a dagger. He turned his attention o the lozenge. Attunement Lozenge (Consumable, Esoteric) x10 A small medicinal candy that can only be created by Outsiders of the related Affinity. Changes an Outsider¡¯s affinity for 1 day, granting temporary benefits based on the gained affinity. May cause loss of original benefits. Affinity selected is based on area. (NOTE - All creatures have Affinity, only more potent creatures are connected to a Source. Otherwise, the terms are interchangeable.) Well, he had nothing to lose, and something to gain by using it. ¡°Goodbye Esoteric. Well, for a day. . .¡± He unwrapped the Lozenge and popped it in his mouth. It was like a jawbreaker, sweet but impenetrably hard. Nothing happened, at least for a while. Then, slowly, he could see in the dark. As the last of the lozenge was dissolved into his mouth, a notification tablet appeared. Then another. Then another. Affinity Temporarily Changed You have lost {ESOTERIC AFFINITY} You have gained {SHADOW AFFINITY} {ESTRANGE} is no longer available Temporary Boon {DARKWALK} is available If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Belonging to creatures, items, and abilities that are unexplainable or require forbidden knowledge. Belonging to creatures, items, and abilities that feature low light and lack of information. Opposite of Light, subset of Primal. DARKWALK - X% Wander through the world darkly. Allows for quick travel land through shadows. Grants Dark Vision, or improves it. Allows for instant travel across [12 feet], if entrance and destination are both in shadow. He could see now. At the very least he could find his way through much quicker. He gathered his things, and started to stand, legs crying out in protest. They¡¯d grown stiff and reluctant to move in the short time he¡¯d sat down, but a new determination filled him, pushing through the pain. On his feet, with the rat on his shoulder Marc looked at his surroundings. There was no light, so everything was just in various shades of blues. Looking at the ground, he could see the slight divot he¡¯d carved into the stones with his axe, though he could also see that the axe¡¯s edge was extremely blunted from the effort. Picking it up, he followed the path he¡¯d carved.
The Sixth stood in the heat of his home. The caldera smoked overhead as rocks boiled and bubbled down below, but his alcove was as safe as ever. No one who wasn¡¯t invited could ever reach him. Unfortunately, the Second had a standing invite, and was immune to the heat of the caldera otherwise. His pet stirred at the new magic, and he petted the dragon to soothe it. ¡°Apologies for entering unannounced.¡± The Second stated. ¡°Just tell me what you need.¡± The Sixth replied unamused. ¡°A meeting. All of us. Winter Solstice¡±. It was only partway into fall, at least in the northern hemisphere. ¡°Same place if you¡¯re calling it. Lyx is coming along.¡± ¡°Of course. Please make arrangements.¡± The Second turned to leave, but the Sixth gave a low, rumbling chuckle. The volcano shook with it. ¡°You don¡¯t waste time. I¡¯ll be there. Just got this one project left. . .¡± He looked into the molten stone. The weapon within was an experiment, one he¡¯d see to the end. The Second nodded, before leaving. Lyxoth¡¯s eye opened, looking curiously at the Sixth. He felt the dragon¡¯s gaze, but his own was locked deep underground.
Marc marched on, and after a while started to see more and more dead rats. He knew he couldn¡¯t be in the same place as the last rat king was, so something had to be killing them besides him. Some of them looked off too, like they were starved before dying. He continued. He had to find a way out, and by now he was convinced that just going back up that slide might be his best choice. At least he knew for sure there was a way out if he went that way. He heard echoes constantly. There was so much stone and they came from far enough away that he could never be sure if they were his own, Berk¡¯s, or someone else¡¯s. But they were persistent. After a full hour, he heard more footsteps, definitely not just an echo of his own. They were running far too fast, and Marc stood off to the side of the tunnel. There was a small drop off filled mostly with gravel to one side, and solid stone to another. Berk rounded the corner, looking cut up and harried, but still the same person. He sprinted away from whatever other footsteps were chasing him, still more agile than Marc thought was possible. Berk looked at Marc. It took the outsider a moment to realize that that shouldn¡¯t be able to happen, with both of them in utter darkness. In that moment, Berk pounced like a predator. The rat went skittering off onto the stones, and Berk¡¯s hand covered his mouth. There was a hatred in the veteran¡¯s eyes, and he spoke in a completely different accent. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he whispered. His hair changed texture, his face bones shifting under the skin, ¡°I won¡¯t waste your face.¡± He continued shifting, until Marc was looking at someone else. Himself. This person was impersonating Marc. He barely recognized his own face. A Light shone through the wall from where not-Berk was running. Marc shoved not-Marc off, and the two tried wresting control from the other as the light approached further. The more time the imposter was there, the more exact his mimicry was. He had the clothes, the axe, even the bag that Marc had, all within less than a minute. The light was almost blinding after hours of darkness, and there he was. Berk. The real Berk. The veteran held what looked like a baseball bat in one hand, but made of stone. With a perfect-form golf swing, Marc felt his ribs crack as both of them were flung into the wall from his tremendous strength. He looked exhausted, the lights shining from his eyes were flitting around at the both of them, causing Marc to squint. ¡°I caught you,¡± He said with a growl, ¡°Now I jus¡¯ gotta figure out which one¡¯s right.¡± He thought for a moment, never once blinking. Marc and not-Marc looked identical. ¡°What¡¯s my class?¡± Berk asked. Both of them shrugged, as neither knew. Berk¡¯s frustration was growing, and the rat scampered over to climb up to his shoulder. The man let it, or didn¡¯t even notice, giving him the appearance of an absolute lunatic. ¡°Fine! What¡¯s your class?¡± Marc and not-Marc spoke at the same time. ¡°Wanderer!¡± ¡°Brute!¡± Not-Marc eyes widened, but didn¡¯t have time to react. The stone bat came down.
Berk and Marc were both more than sore as the left the caverns more than 12 hours from entering. Berk, being a known person to most of the nobles, was able to talk the two out of being arrested. ¡°Doppelgangers. Had to be a Doppelganger. . .¡± Berk muttered under his breath. One had been following them, putting out Berk¡¯s lights, and observing them just enough to mimic them perfectly. But their information was imperfect, leading to, well, the trap it set snapping on the doppelganger rather than them. They returned to Rodaan¡¯s house, rat still on Berk¡¯s shoulder. A maid was standing outside, rather than the man they greeted this morning. ¡°Mr. Berk! We were worried about you!¡± ¡°No need. Couldja just grab the coin fer us? Long day.¡± Past midnight, Marc found himself back in bed, nearly a hundred leaves richer. Chapter 25: The Light of Day Marc woke up with his side still hurting. He was hoping, perhaps foolishly, that being in a game-inspired world would make his wounds heal after spending a night in an inn. His still-broken ribs were gently informing him that was not a good idea. Staggering out of bed, he asked around the headquarters for any healers, but was instead told that Berk was waiting outside for him. He made for the door. ¡°Well, yer lookin¡¯ worse for wear.¡± Berk¡¯s gruff voice came as soon as he stepped outside. Marc had left his axe and bag behind for now, though his constellation dagger was tied to his hip. Despite changing clothes, he was still covered in blood and grime that he hadn¡¯t the energy to clean off the night before. ¡°Well, I¡¯m alive at least.¡± ¡°Yep. Let¡¯s get you healed up. You been to the temple yet?¡± The Temple of Allfaith. It was technically an allied faction but Marc had never really had any reason to interact with them. It was a tall, imposing structure with few windows and a heavy aroma of incense. Marc shook his head in response, and Berk just motioned to follow him. ¡°Doppelgangers in the tunnels is bad news, kid. Keep it to yourself, with the flood goin¡¯ on.¡± He said, barely whispering. Marc nodded, ¡°I figured I wasn¡¯t the right person to go deal with them anyways.¡± ¡°Y¡¯ain¡¯t wrong.¡± ¡°By the way Berk,¡± Marc asked, ¡°What class are you, anyways. You asked me that but. . .¡± ¡°Ah, trick question in case both of you were fakes. My class has been. . . stuck for a while.¡± ¡°Stuck?¡± Marc tilted his head, only to get a sharp pain in his side from the movement. ¡°How can you get stuck?¡± ¡°Ha, you be indecisive.¡± Berk gave a dry laugh. Marc didn¡¯t return it. The two walked in silence for a bit. Berk eventually broke it, ¡°My class, right now, is War Witch.¡± Marc was vaguely familiar with it. In his time helping Lloyd, he¡¯d seen a lot of the second-echelon classes, and must have read it before. ¡°That¡¯s. . . Warrior-Shaman?¡± ¡°Started out a Shaman, then Warrior, then Curate.¡± That explained why Marc couldn¡¯t bring anything to mind, given he didn¡¯t look at much but rogue stuff. Each different Historia usually increase the specificity of a class at the next Echelon. A lot of people would only use Historia from their first class, solely because it was easy and usually readily available, but the versatility of other classes tended to draw most adventurers. ¡°Course, I favor swords more than spells nowadays.¡± ¡°And bats. . .¡± Marc muttered. Berk gave a far more genuine laugh this time. ¡°And clubs too. But, I¡¯ve gotten an Archer, Mage, Craftsman, and Rogue Historia in me too at this point.¡± Seven different Historia? Marc¡¯s eyes went wide, but when Berk saw it he already had a knowing look. ¡°Yep. Level 50, Echelon 2, and stuck. Hard to do what your class wants you to when spells ain¡¯t swords, swords ain¡¯t daggers, and none of it¡¯s craftin¡¯. I¡¯ve tried the ritual, oh, 5 times now? Failed, all of ¡®em.¡± ¡°I. . . I¡¯m sorry?¡± He didn¡¯t really know what to say. Berk was well respected, and clearly powerful, but being stuck where you were, like a dead-end job that you couldn¡¯t ever get out of, sounded terrible. ¡°Ah, don¡¯t be. Just be careful yerself. I¡¯m lucky in a way, I can gamble on another Historia, got enough focus in me. But. . . ¡° He didn¡¯t need to finish. ¡°How can you tell how many you can take?¡± ¡°Depends on your Focus. If I¡¯d started as a Warrior I¡¯d be screwed.¡± They rounded the corner and the temple was only a few buildings away. ¡°But that¡¯s on me. Go in, I¡¯ll get the payment taken care of since I¡¯m the one that did it.¡± Marc walked in and was taken to another room, where the same elf that healed him the first day stood.
The stranger in white looked upon the academy. They were well and truly forewarned about the encroaching zombie hordes, now on their doorstep. They wouldn¡¯t last long, but would keep them occupied at least until the flood started. Not to mention the threat of others roaming the area. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Mages, always scared of stepping past the threshold,¡± The stranger pondered to himself. His companion had heard his musings more than enough times to ignore it, tearing at a piece of zombified flesh. ¡°Well, the towns are out of the way, we might as well get going.¡± He stood and continued his march through the scattered snow. The Sage Lands experienced snow far earlier in the year than the two were used to, where leaves would just be starting to turn. Still, they knew the cold well enough. Due south was Grand Vale, and any of the smaller villages between the academy and city were abandoned. Just about anyone left there would either be mercenaries, idiots, bandits, or monsters. The stranger¡¯s mind wandered to the mysteries of his order. Who was interred within the highest tower, what items did the reliquarists hold, were psychics real, and so on. The last one was a common topic of discussion, and the stranger believed they did. It was an hour past noon when the scent of fresh dirt met his nose, and he pulled out his Writ. The message was still being scribed. Delay previous commands. Prioritize your target within Grand Vale. We count upon you. ¡°Thanks Gerig, figured that one out already,¡± he grumbled. He was the one who had figured out there even was a target within Grand Vale in the first place, not to mention the length of time between responses. Gerig was far from his favorite master, always saying things that were either obvious to anyone with a pulse or simply wrong. His only specialty was spellcraft, and even then he was surpassed by many of his peers. Still, he was a master and warranted respect for his rank and loyalty. The stranger rolled the writ up and tucked it away. His target would be hidden among the rest of the people in Grand Vale. He looked to the south, and moved forward once more, his destination straight ahead.
Marc didn¡¯t give Nico enough credit. He¡¯d not needed to get a full bone-setting heal in a long time, and Jacky¡¯s magic was different enough that he¡¯d lost sight of how terrifying the elf¡¯s was before. He was now highly uncomfortable and stiff from that. Berk advised him not to move too much, and promised to go with him for scouting out any cloth armor he could use in future. Right now, though, Marc was off to a smith to get his axe sharpened. As it turns out, using an axe as a cane for navigation in the dark was not easy to do, though for the next few hours Marc still had dark vision. The markets were more packed than normal, but the blacksmith that Lloyd got his daggers from was still there and was trustworthy enough to not mess it up. There was another person there, dressed in some kind of robes with a large crossbow across her back, but she left without a word to anyone once her gear was fully repaired. Returning to the headquarters, Marc saw that the bulletin board was updated. The flood would be starting in less than a week. He¡¯d be in the city somewhere, likely patrolling for some dire pigeons or other pests grown to terrifying size through whatever process makes something Dire. Marc sat down in his room, deciding to take the rest of the day to rest, looking at his character sheet again. NAME: Marcus H. Green RACE: Outsider CLASS: Wanderer LEVEL: 13/50 (47%) ECHELON: 1 HEALTH: EXCELLENT ABILITIES: RSL - 37 Resilience. How able you are to resist and recover from adverse change. FCS - 26 Focus. How able you are to concentrate and exert yourself mentally. MGT - 24 (+16) Might. How able you are to affect the world around you. FNS - 16 Finesse. How able you are to perform tasks quickly or skillfully. LCK - 7 Luck. How much the gods like you. At some point, Marc had gotten 1 extra point of Luck. At this rate, he¡¯d have 10 points by the time he reached level 50! Marc smiled at the ridiculousness of it. BOONS WANDERER BOONS SIGHTSEEKER - 68% All Wanderers are called to the discovery of something new. Current effect: [8] / [19%] Next Potency loss [14 days] ADEPT SURVIVALIST - 05% The bare elements are gentle toward the wanderer. Day or night, snow or shine, the wanderer¡¯s place is ever the road. SUPPRESSED - ESTRANGE - 17% To wander is to leave, whether by choice or force. TEMPORARY - DARKWALK - X% Wander through the world darkly. OUTSIDER BOONS POLYGLOT An innate replacement boon for all outsiders. Imperfect, but understandable. AETHEREAL RESISTANCE Allows prolonged and frequent travel through the aethereal media used for teleportation.. SPECTATOR EFFECT A Unique boon provided to Farlanders familiar with Computer Role Playing Games. HISTORIA BOONS: 0/2/6 The more they were used, the more the boons increased. At least, for his Wanderer boons. Despite using Polyglot regularly, and Spectator Effect with decent frequency as well, there was no percentage to indicate when it would increase in power. He suspected it was something to do with increasing Echelon, but as long as he could keep speaking with people he wouldn¡¯t turn down a gift like that. Still, despite how far he¡¯d come, he was nearly killed from something just turning out the lights. Marc stood, and went to the main room. If he couldn¡¯t rely on boons, he could at least rely on the expertise of other adventurers. Chapter 26: The Flood The Flood had begun in the Sage lands. Dire beasts were appearing in the midst of every sufficiently large group of animals within the forests and hills. The roads, well worn and patrolled by the allied factions, now were the stomping grounds for monsters, or lay silent and unused. The few faction members that could survive in the wilderness were summoned back to the cities for defense as soon as they were able. The gates opened only twice each day, at dawn and dusk, to change who was out in the field. They were sent out to inspect the walls, gates, and break up any groups of dire beasts that had started accumulating outside. Both groups were back in the city with the exception of Fray herself. Her and the adventurers she was assigned to had apparently hit a snag with their mission and hadn¡¯t been able to make it back yet, but, according to the Ogre¡¯s party member, they were still alive and healthy, just stuck a few days out. In the North, the zombie siege of Mystle had begun. Given the kind of zombies summoned, the students were kept away, and only the more trained magic users or those less reliant on solely magic were fielded to fight them. The Flood had an affect here too, with the ambient magic fueling the zombies longer than they would last otherwise. The necromancer had not made an appearance yet, but the Hierophant was confident that they would, either here or in the city. Across the world, the repercussions of the Flood were being felt. Iron Mountain aimed its spears skyward, fighting off whatever dragon went mad and decided now was a good time to attack the stronghold. The Six Hills region saw a surge in its own monsters, namely Fey and other things Marc had never heard of. Trinity City was being hit hard, but then again it was always hit hard by the Flood. The three constituent cities were bordering a massive underground tunnel system, the open ocean, and an ¡°evil dark forest¡±, as Nico called it. This was to differentiate it from the normal dark forests of the Sage Lands, or the evil bright forests of the Fey¡¯s home. Helen, of course, then chimed in that she was from said evil dark forest. Barry, Nico, and Helen were off duty right now, but were waiting to be deployed later on. Every combatant of Echelon 2 or higher had to go out twelve hours every-other day, for as long as the Flood lasted. That would normally leave Marc, Jacky, and Lloyd with nothing to do but wait. Instead, they needed to guard the city on the inside. People tended to get stir crazy, and often times travelers who found solace within the walls were not entirely happy with their situations. The small group of Tefereti were being housed by Rodaan, but not many nations had a system like that in place. Trinity City, a major trade hub, had a single member of their Porter¡¯s Guild in Grand Vale, others had no one. This was exacerbated by there being a number of national rivalries. Add it all together, and Marc, Jacky, and Lloyd were effectively the bouncers for the entire city. The other Echelon 1 classed from Grand Vale would join them, but the trio had a very cherished position. They were in Berk¡¯s crew, guarding the Canopy. After his first mission with Berk, and the recommendation of Rodaan, Marc was allowed in, though would be under surveillance. Jacky was herself a resident of the ward, and vouched for Lloyd. The three managed to snag effectively a luxury position, guarding the nobility and the elite from the city, as well as being the most protected. They may not be gaining levels like some of the adventurers stopping drunken brawls day by day, but they¡¯d be the safest in the city.
The Elf was nervous. Their plan was finished, their preparations done. She had stolen more than enough to leave behind for ¡°tithe¡± in advance, so no one would have a reason to go looking for her. She¡¯d have turned it in to the inquisitor directly if the invader could be found. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The Flood was always a stressful time for the Root. It was always clear they were on a leash, especially with the restriction on who couldn¡¯t be robbed, but it came with upsides to match. Not so in the Flood. What should be a holiday for them was instead the time of greatest restrictions. They were not combatants at the best of times, most only ever gaining levels through, well, thievery. It said something when the highest level one was also the only one to go out and fight. So, when dues, or tithes, came up during the Flood, there was a mad scramble. The only things they were even allowed to steal at this point were generally from traveling merchants stuck beneath the canopy, or else utterly worthless. The Root was a leash, and the Elf wanted off. So, as she turned out onto the streets to observe the huddled, scared masses, the marching adventurers, she took a look at the city that was her home. Where she got her first Historia, where she became the person she was today. She walked through the crowd, her stealth boon activating. If anyone saw her, they wouldn¡¯t care. They were adventurers, protected by the Root¡¯s leash. The guards were always protected, but at least that went both ways. Bribes were just a part of business with them, and it kept the novice thieves from spending too long in chains. More than that, they weren¡¯t going to interfere in her work. Walking through a group of adventurers was a clear indication that she wasn¡¯t doing anything in front of them. Sticking to the shadows, she made her way to the Traveler ward, and right back to that small graveyard. The test started down there. This was the last time she could back out. Success would mean becoming a Paragon. Failure would mean exile during the Flood. Checking around her, she opened the tunnels and slipped inside, closing the entrance once again. She saw the Sharoaa¡¯s eyes reflecting light, a hand beckoning. There was only one path forward.
Fray looked down from the perch they were stuck atop. It was her and the few other Echelon 3 adventurers on a mission gone more than a little awry. First, a massive swarm of undead marching towards the city, then the Dire beasts started coming, and very quickly the four of them were using magic to try and fly over the undead-dire beast war going on below. Fray, meanwhile, was on ¡°kill them if they get too close¡± duty, alongside Kal. The Sorcerer and Witch Knight, Vairough and Ettore respectively, were keeping them aloft. ¡°Not whatcha expected, Fray?¡± came Kal¡¯s voice. He was good in a scrap, but every word from his mouth carried an arrogance that Fray disliked. ¡°Is it what you expected, Kal?¡± She shot back. The amount of blood spilt below meant she had more than enough materiel for her spells, it was more a matter of focus and actually casting the spells correctly now. ¡°Me? I always expect something to go wrong.¡± He flicked his wrists, resummoning the knives he¡¯d just thrown to his magical vambraces. Vairough swore, ¡°Because you always do it wrong, Kal!¡± Her focus only wavered for a moment, but the platform of roots and iron they were standing on tilted unexpectedly. If the human was hurt by the Sorcerer¡¯s words, he didn¡¯t show it, ¡°It¡¯s worked out for me so far.¡± Ettore himself was not engaging in the discussion, as was typical. He did say something that, though in Elvish, Fray was fairly certain translated to ¡°I should have become a scholar¡± given the number of times Nico had said nearly the same thing. ¡°Can we move any faster?¡± Fray asked. ¡°Do YOU want to sustain the spell?¡± came Vairough¡¯s reply, knowing she wouldn¡¯t be able to. Fray saw a Dire cat - Lynx, she though - readying to pounce. She drew back her arm, chanted her own spell, and the attacker¡¯s lunge was stopped right after it started. Probably not enough to kill it, but certainly enough to keep it from trying again. As minutes became hours, and the quartet crossed the sky, Fray resolved to treat her party, full of people she liked, to something appropriately celebratory when the Flood was finally done. Looking into the distance, towards Grand Vale, she saw a bird of some kind flying alone. Chapter 27: Near Misses Marc walked through the streets of the Canopy Ward, vigilant but generally relaxed. There were about 10 of them in ¡°Berk¡¯s crew¡±, Berk included. Marc, Jacky, and Lloyd were put together, another group of 4 was on their own, and Berk himself was with two twins from the Root he¡¯d taken a shine to. Of course, they had to be supervised since they were, at the end of the day, thieves. The Canopy was not quite as unpopulated as Marc thought it would be. A large number of city elites, the wealthy and influential who were not born noble (or who didn¡¯t have quite enough money or influence yet) were allowed in, as well as large swaths of the local non-adventuring guilds. At any given time, an elven carpenter would be rubbing shoulders with a royal dryad or arwa merchant, and that disconnect was causing most of the issues that had to be solved. Such as, for example, what was happening right now. Lloyd was the one who spotted it, and now all three had to go in to try and break things up. ¡° - you dull brute!¡± A circle was forming around the elven noblewoman who was speaking. She was glaring daggers at the massive human in fine, expensive silks, and he looked somewhere between amused and annoyed. ¡°Madam, I merely offered to -¡± he was cut off by her shrill voice. ¡°You would do well not to offer anything to your betters ever again. Why, when this is over. . .¡± Her eyes finally saw Marc in the crowd. Something Marc had learned since arriving, and had been reinforced over the past two days, was that adventurers had a certain look. Even without the weapons or magical implements, there was a certain oddity to their dress that made them very easy to pick out from a crowd. They tended to wear mismatched clothing, armor of various styles and make, carry far more than needed for anything except the emergencies they always dove into. The apparent value of one¡¯s clothing meant exceedingly little when undyed wool could repel dragon¡¯s breath, or a rusted iron ring could allow one to walk on water. Marc was taking advantage of that, even if he didn¡¯t really mean to. He was dressed very ¡°adventurer¡±, with his armor (courtesy of Berk¡¯s recommendations) and leather sandals. Not to mention the axe on his back. No one there knew what he could do but him and the other adventurers, but they all did know that he was there to keep the peace. ¡°Is there a problem here?¡± he said, keeping his voice steady. The noblewoman looked ready to slink away into the darkness, and muttered something about the man bumping into her. The human seemed more relieved than anything, and actually responded, ¡°I was just walking along, and the lady and I collided. I offered to assist her to her feet, but, well,¡± he shrugged. The lady grew red, and looked like she was fighting her instinct to start an outburst, but upon looking at Marc once again, decided against it. She huffed, ¡°This boar of a man was charging through the streets and bowled me over. The indignity of it, well, caused me to react as anyone would.¡± Marc sighed. Whether she was an elven Karen or he was just an idiot with places to be, he was there to end it. ¡°Sir, ma¡¯am, please both be more vigilant of your surroundings. There¡¯s no need for fighting within the city walls when the guard and adventurers are busy fighting outside, right?¡± The two nodded in something resembling agreement, and went their separate ways. Marc had no doubt that this would be the majority of the encounters he had during the flood. Then again, not fighting for his life for once was going to be nice. He could do with a break from that.
Grant Roen was tired. He¡¯d been creating and repairing wards, thorn walls, and deep trenches for days by now, and the dead didn¡¯t seem intent to stop. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. From a purely scholarly standpoint, he understood it - the undead had none of the energy limitations that mortals did. They did not need to eat, sleep, or even breathe in most cases. Their limiting factor was generally the number of corpses available and the minor, persistent drain they placed on the ambient magic around them. A single zombie could theoretically be sustained forever. Hordes of this size were unheard of, and pulled so much ambient magic that even some of Grants more advanced students couldn¡¯t cast spells anymore, especially combined with their aura of silence. This left the few hybrid students, able to rely more on their martial skills than their magical ones, and the teachers themselves to be the sole defenders. The worst part of it all was that these zombies were made well, and Grant couldn¡¯t figure out why. There were precious few groups that studied and mastered necromancy, and none of them were close to the Sage Lands. Even still, it had to be someone who had learned from them, or at least someone who had stolen their secrets. The only reasonable option in his mind was that they were from an Escha cult, and Grant had a theory as to which. The Doombringers were a threat from before he was even classed, but no one really believed they were fully gone. Groups like that had a bad habit of sticking around far longer than reason would suggest. The cult had a talent for raising utterly massive hordes compared to the number of necromancers they had. If he had more time, he¡¯d look into it right now and put the theory to rest. If it wasn¡¯t them, then a foreign nation had a defector, and a powerful one, roaming around or. . . Or one of the students had mastered necromancy. If it was alone, that was one thing, but there was always the possibility of it being some kind of outsider. He looked to the south, in the direction of Grand Vale, and hoped that the city was spared the onslaught.
Nico looked out over the beasts. There were more Dire beasts than he¡¯d think there would, but then again Helen had mentioned that it would be a very brutal Flood this time around. This was his first time actually fighting one. Being a city dweller, even if he was from Trinity, meant that he was always relatively safe. The city beneath was relatively tame, at least in his opinion, compared to what Barry and Helen described. Helen wove stories of naturally occurring undead, titanic spiders with too many joints, and an entire class of monster that hated nothing more than being seen in the first place. Barry¡¯s were more reasonable, until he talked about a blight elemental that had appeared in his house during the previous flood due to his mother¡¯s alchemy. Still, he was an adventurer now, and one well suited to exactly this task. Sappers, despite their general inclinations as being more destructive of things than harmful to monsters, were made to be smart. Nico himself was planning to pick up a Scholar¡¯s historia later, though knew he had to be careful extending in too many directions to quickly. The dire squirrels, however many of them there were, looked at them with glowing beady eyes. There was hunger in them, and probably hate if they could feel it. But they didn¡¯t get closer. Helen was the planner of their little strike team, which included a Glorifier who played the role of their defender. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re going to need to break that up sooner rather than later,¡± Barry called out. Helen nodded, looking to Nico. He began his incantation. The Hoplite, Griff, put his shield up and prepared to use one of his boons. He was bare chested, but his shield was large enough for an Icess to hide behind, let alone a human. Some of the city guard, several yards behind them, took notice, gathering up their own implements of war. Unfortunately, so did the dires. There was a stir, with only a few moving forward. Then another joined it, and another, until the tide of dire rodents was charging them. Barry tapped Griff¡¯s shoulder, and he used his boon. A full 8 ephemeral copies of Griff appeared around him in a phalanx, eyes glowing redder than even the dire beasts. Barry started casting some of his quicker spells. Small blasts of fire and trails of smoke. The dires were smarter than normal animals, but they still had some of the same instincts they couldn¡¯t fight. Everything was driven towards the phalanx, even if their original aim had been Nico. Nico, whose spell had just completed. He pointed his finger at the rock wall that made of part of the natural defenses of this part of the city. A large boulder pulled itself free with a resounding crack, like rocks in a campfire. The dire beasts, if they were aware of the danger, didn¡¯t change their course, fully surrounding the phalanx and attacking it, never wondering why the shields were pointed skyward. The boulder crushed the Dires, while Griff and his specters almost broke at the impact. By all means they should, were it not for his exceptionally high luck. After a tense moment, he somehow managed to push the boulder off to one side, as any dires that weren¡¯t crushed before had scurried back behind where they were before. The larger, smarter beasts stayed far out of bowshot, while Helen picked off any stragglers not quite far enough away. Chapter 28: Dark Sky Marc, Jacky, and Lloyd were in a small area of the tavern cordoned off for specifically them and the rest of Berk''s group. This one, unlike the others Marc had been in, was basically just a restaurant like he was used to from the 21st century, full with wait service and menus handed out at the table. There were two tables for them, as thanks for the work they were doing. Whether it was legitimate or they were told by the monarch to do so was unknown, but Marc was fairly certain that Jacky and Berk were the only others who¡¯d think of that. The twin thieves, who were also at their table, were taking sidelong glances at Lloyd. Being a Rogue who wasn¡¯t with the guild meant he was on rocky footing with any who were. They were humans, one a boy named Theo and the other a girl named Lia, and they were more there to keep them out of trouble than other people. Berk¡¯s excuse was that thieves knew how they liked to move, and the Root ones were bound to not steal from the people within the canopy for the duration. Marc still wasn¡¯t sure if he trusted them. Still, so far they¡¯d caught multiple thieves, all of whom had been thrown out of the ward, probably permanently. They were being hosted by a ¡°friend¡± who also lived in the ward, some snow elf noble. Berk was sitting at the other table with the remaining four members of the group, an Icess alchemist named Vara, a human curate named Johan, and two human Glorifiers that Marc hadn¡¯t caught the names of. ¡°So,¡± Lia started. Marc thought she was the older sibling but wasn¡¯t quite sure. ¡°Have any good hauls lately Lloyd?¡± Lloyd didn¡¯t even look up from his meal, some kind of dire beasts fillet, answering, ¡°I don¡¯t steal.¡± Lia scoffed, as Theo, more diplomatic of the two, continued where she left off, ¡°You¡¯re a pure combat rogue? I¡¯ve heard its tough to get to your level doing that.¡± They probably didn¡¯t know what level Lloyd, or even Marc, was. Lia grabbed Theo¡¯s attention, ¡°Well, he¡¯s partied with a brute anyways. Any combat would be easy like that.¡± A. . .pot shot at Marc? He was more confused than offended. ¡°So, you kids trying to get us angry, or are you just really bad at talking to people?¡± Marc asked. The twins got red-faced, clearly thinking they were more manipulative than they were. They were quiet for the rest of the time there. After their meals, they were set free. Jacky, being a noble, was letting the two of them stay in her home, which was modest compared to the rest of the nobility. Marc wasn¡¯t expecting Downton Abbeys left right and center, but Rodaan¡¯s home was close, and some of the buildings they saw patrolling were quite similar. Jacky¡¯s home, to contrast, was about the size of a well-off American home, albeit the rooms were different. Some of Jacky¡¯s sisters, too young in dryad years to go out on adventures, were also in the house. Though, given they were plants, exactly how long a dryad year was remained uncertain. Then came the realization that the house had no real beds. Some dryads never slept at all, able to stay awake for their entire lives, but Jacky was not one of them. She didn¡¯t need a bed either, instead being able to more or less fuse into a wall and sleep there. The first night was slightly awkward as Marc and Lloyd tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible, but afterwards Jacky contacted some of her other family members to get some cots, blankets, and pillows brought over. And so Marc slept through the flood beyond the walls of the city. He didn¡¯t dream, but that wasn¡¯t new to this life as a wanderer. He did, however, wake early in the morning, full of energy and with no easy way to get it out. He checked his character sheet, seeing that he only had a few days before his first instance of Sightseeker expired. A lot of those instances were bundled up in the first few days he was in this world, so he had to be wary of losing a lot of them right in a row. His main stat was Resilience, but one could be mistaken with how strong Sightseeker made him at first. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Lloyd was sleeping in the same room, stock still. Whenever Marc had looked at him asleep, he always thought, just in the back of his head, that Lloyd had died in his sleep and what he saw was a corpse. But in the morning he always got up no problem. Marc stood, and to try and use up some of his excess energy, he left the house as quietly as he could, and started wandering the streets. He looked up into the night sky, an unbroken dome of unfamiliar stars with an alien moon as the capstone. As he was about to get philosophical, he saw something familiar - the shape of a very specific vulture.
The Thief and Paragon were waiting. They¡¯d been underground for multiple days by now. Exactly how long was hard to tell. The Sharoaa was fine with the silence, which the elf lent to his class of Whisper, but she was getting less and less tolerant of it. As they had gone through the tunnels, they had, thankfully, correctly interpreted their map. It did take them past the corpse of someone, but she couldn''t even tell what it was, let alone who. Probably someone killed by the rat lunatic! They spent most of the time they were waiting for going over the plan, from house to house, and how to throw the guards off their trail. Her mentor was hoping there would be a big push from the Dires at some point in the next few days, which they¡¯d be able to hear (or at least he would) from where they were, and then they could steal everything that wasn¡¯t nailed down without much opposition. This was also her interview, for lack of a better term, to join the Paragons. The group was enigmatic, international, and universally respected for their skills. They were an invite-only organization, with membership ranging from royalty to barbarian warlords. A lot of people wanted to become Paragons, but almost none had the grit to stick to their most essential rule. The Elf, more by happenstance than anything else, was one of them. ¡°Do not perform the Ritual of Becoming before reaching your highest level.¡± That meant 50 levels at each echelon. Her mentor had, at minimum, 150 levels under his belt. Despite being primarily a rogue, he was probably stronger than some dragons by the sheer number of times he¡¯d had a chance to increase them. Being Echelon 4 and a paragon put him above most Echelon 5 adventurers in a similar way. She wanted that for herself. After hours more of waiting in the dark, with nothing to do but stare at a wall or a map or some other boring thing she¡¯d done fifty times already. ¡°You¡¯re awfully impatient for an elf,¡± his voice rang out. Well, it was a whisper, but there was near total silence surrounding it. ¡°Not all of us are content to sit in the wilderness for thirty years counting snowflakes and naming every star,¡± she shot back. ¡°Well, we could continue our discussion from before.¡± ¡°Please, no more philosophical nonsense. I can tell from your voice that you don¡¯t really believe in it either.¡± He laughed. They had actually become fairly good acquaintances over the weeks planning. Not close enough to be friends, but also more than just two people about to stab each other in the back. If nothing else, he was refreshing company from the dead-enders who wasted away in the root. ¡°Fine, fine. A question I do believe in, then?¡± ¡°Go ahead, if you want.¡± ¡°What do you think being a rogue serves for the world?¡± She thought for a second, eyebrows knitting together, before she looked in the direction his voice came from, ¡°Isn¡¯t this just more philosophy?¡± ¡°I said something I believe in, not that it would be a history question.¡± She gave a small sigh, ¡°Greed? We serve ourselves? Or cowardice for hiding all the time?¡± ¡°Ah, let me rephrase,¡± he said, clearly hoping for a different answer. ¡°I believe that each of the Historia serves some tendency of the people in this world. Its a fairly common believe in larger cities, even becoming close to religion around Moonset. Brute serves destruction, which is why they have so many reckless boons that inflict damage back at them. Farmer serves either protection or nurture, depending on who you ask. Mage serves wonder, and so on. The idea is that by partaking in what a historia serves, that is why you gain experience.¡± She thought for a moment. Rogues were disliked, for a reason, but. . . if they had to serve a purpose. ¡°I guess,¡± She started, unsure of her answer, ¡°Rogue serves. . . secrecy?¡± There was no noise for a second, before he responded once more, ¡°Well then, let¡¯s keep being good little rogues, and wait for the time to strike.