Chapter Sixteen: “Looking For Group!!”

On the walk downstairs to the courtyard, after saying goodbye to Chayah, Zuglah’s good cheer suddenly vanished. The memory of Slorric’s words returned, how the last Troll to learn Wizardry had discovered some racial advantage later in life that he had managed to exploit, and how he had quickly become an indomitable juggernaut after that. He had taken over the entire Horde, spreading hatred and being responsible for the disastrous third war with the Humans. Some even thought that he was trying to use the Horde to fuel his ambitions to walk the Higher Road.

Zuglah kept telling him that had nothing to do with him, he was just going to make potions with Caldwell and maybe run the occasional dungeon. Slorric was quite sympathetic. “Well, stick with him and you will be fine. Caldwell might be a boy at heart but he’s a good friend to have.” Zuglah would certainly agree to that. The man had changed his life completely.

When he arrived in the tower’s large, walled-in courtyard, there was a sizable crowd gathered. Sallan, the Halfling Warlock was there, as well as the Driole Pliesson and the Forest Gnome, Gribnr. Those were all the people he knew, including instructors.

Next to Gribnr were the Human Wizards, all of the lowest level ones, he assumed. There were seven of them, some beardless and nervous and others more long in the tooth. But also nervous.

Beside the Human Wizards was a collection of what Zuglah could only describe as Melee class people. There were two or three archers, and perhaps a Rogue type here and there, but for the most part it was Elven (and half-Elven, judging by some of the smells he caught later) woman and men he was sure were Clerics mixed with Human Fighters, Paladins and Berserkers. He had learned to tell these low level versions of the classes apart during the weeks that he had watched Caldwell drag them through the Crypt.

Talking to a young, tall Fighter with a gleaming breastplate and an equally shining shield, stood a massive Dwarven Fighter. He had huge arms and shoulders, bigger than the other man even though he wasn’t wearing any armor. His hair was receding, but still reddish-orange like his beard. Something about the way Zuglah was peering down the line caught his eye, and he stopped speaking mid-sentence.

Everyone fell silent as he came straight towards Zuglah. He was less than half as tall as Zuglah was, but he outweighed him by a good margin. “So you would be our new Troll then?”

There was no denying it, so he simply nodded and bowed his head politely. “And do you usually go barehanded into battles?”

He shook his head. “Quarterstaff.”

The Dwarf nodded his head approvingly. “Go on, then.” Zuglah saw that he was indicating a rack holding a selection of staves. He rushed over and picked what he thought looked like the heaviest one.

The Dwarf addressed the entire group. “My name is Foadan Gamstone, and I am here to teach you how to be a useful and productive member of any party. Now, who can tell me what it means to be in a party?” One of the Fighters stuck his hand up immediately. “Yes, Scraps?”

He stepped forward and declared, “It’s to make you roll for all the good loot.” All of the Fighters and Clerics laughed, as did some of the Human wizards.

“Yes, very clever. We all know how spoils are divided. Does anyone know the reason for groups?” He crossed his leg-sized forearms and waited. One of the older Humans slowly raised his hand, unsure of himself. Gamstone nodded to him.

“Is it sharing experience?” He shrugged.

One of the youngest of the Human Wizards tried to help him out. “Is it meeting new people, and making friends?”

“No it is not.” The Dwarf said, simply.

“Sharing buffs.” The small voice was from the far end of the line. So far, in fact, that it came from the spot right next to Zuglah.

Once again, Foadan Gamstone stomped his way down the line. “What was that?” He stood, waiting. Nobody answered.

Finally, Zuglah couldn’t take it any more. He pointed towards the Driole. “He said it. Something about buffs.”

Pliesson glared at him, his whiskers twitching. “Why would you do that?”

What could he say? He had to get over it sooner or later, if he was going to actually go crawling, as he claimed to want. “He wasn’t going away. Nobody else knew the answer. He’s still waiting.”

Still shaking his head, Pliesson turned to answer the instructor. “The reason for a group is to focus the might of five party members into and through one individual, who we usually call the tank for his ability to absorb and deal a large amount of damage. Also because he is quite heavily armored, like the siege weapon of the same name.” He bowed to the Dwarf, then stepped back into line.

“Now that,” Gamstone said loudly to the group, “was a proper Wizard’s answer. And entirely correct.” The students laughed dutifully. Zuglah suspected that the Dwarf got a lot of laughs that he didn’t really earn.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I’m actually an Illusionist.” Pliesson said. It made little difference.

“The purpose of a group is to gather strength to defeat monsters and mobs that you would not otherwise be able to kill. If everyone in the party knows their role, and if everyone does their job correctly, there is no reason why you cannot have a successful outcome. And if you can do it in a sustainable way, that is, not burn every drop of your mana on your first fight, then you can win fight after fight after fight. And before you know it, you have taken down the Boss, and you’re rolling for his favorite weapon. And that’s what is known as a perfect run.” There were a lot of murmurs after this, as the Fighters all dreamed of glory and the Wizards riches.

Gamstone told them how to accept an invitation to a group, and how to start a group of their own. Zuglah discovered that he needed to be within five tiers, or sylats of a person in order to group up. Not for the first time, he wondered how powerful Caldwell really was.

For now though, he needed to get at least one tier if not two, so he could keep his promise to Chayah. There was no way he could leave her behind the next time he went looking for that inn, and if it turned into another Instance, he was pretty sure that she would need to be in his group in order to participate. Thinking back, neither Lord Stanish nor Ulbarth so much as acknowledged Caldwell, even though he was clearly much higher level. They had treated Zuglah as though he was alone.

The class was divided into groups by demonstration. The young man in the shiny breastplate was accompanied by one of the half-elves, although this one was a man. Gamstone made them stand in front of the entire class. “Now, Denton here has just put out a call looking for group members. Or, if he’s smart, he will let Cleric Warwick do it, because that tells people ‘We’ve got a healer.’ A lot of people will bail on a group if it doesn’t have a healer, because if they are scarce it can take all day finding one. But not our brave heroes, because we have had proper training, and know not to start a party without one. So what else does our enterprise require?”

A youngish Human raised his hand, stepping forward immediately. “You need damage dealt.” He held a hand in front of himself and gestured with the opposite. It was a motion that every child in every realm knew, only unlike a child, when he did it a real-life Fireball appeared and began growing above his hand. The hot, translucent orange sphere expanded in the air, growing thinner and weaker-looking as it went. Before it was halfway large enough to throw, it popped like a soap bubble. There were appreciative murmurs and chuckles from the other Human Wizards as well as some others. All in all, Zuglah was impressed. It had been a decent attempt at a Fireball. He knew what he was doing.

“That is correct, of course. The real advantage to choosing a Wizard over the other classes is not because of their habit of throwing a Fireball into every corner with a shadow. It’s portals. At higher skill levels, a Wizard won’t even have to open a portal to an alternate Plane; they can simply summon you. It’s damned convenient. Okay, Wizard, you’re in.” He jerked his head towards the pair standing at the front. The young bearded man smiled in surprise, but quickly dashed over to take up his position. He beamed as though he had genuinely won the appointment. It seemed that his Fireball hadn’t been entirely ineffectual after all. “What else do we need?”

“More Fireballs.” Zuglah laughed as hard as anyone at that.

But Foadan nodded approvingly. “More damage means less wear and tear on your Fighter, which means less work for your Priest. And that translates into being ready to fight again sooner. What else?”

People muttered, feet shuffling. Finally, “Crowd control?”

Gamstone spun, fixating on the Driole Enchanter. “Yes! Less people in the fight means an easier time for your tank. Good crowd control is essential for a successful raid, especially at higher levels. You, my enchanting young friend, and your Necromancer colleague beside you there, are going to have a hard time finding groups in the beginning of your careers. But fret not, because by the time you are in your late teens you will be the most popular class in your guild. For now, go on and take your place.”

Startled, Pliesson very hesitatingly broke away from the crowd to join the demonstration team. He looked out of place among so many Humans. But Foadan Gamstone looked at his newly formed party and nodded in approval. “Now you see? This is a properly set-up group. You can fit the last slot with nearly any class you desire. Go on, shout one out. Any class.”

“Could you have a Paladin, or some other swordsman?” This was from one of the leather-clad Rogues, a thin, athletic looking man who was wearing a lot of daggers and a short sword.

“Sure you can. The extra healing can be tough for the Cleric, but it’s a job they enjoy trying to keep up with, so for them it’s considered a win. Plus it keeps them extra safe, having an extra meat-shield handy.” Again, big laughs. “What else?”

“What about another Cleric? Would that work too?”

“Of course. Let’s say that you have a lower level priest that you are trying to get ready for the big raid. So he needs a couple of levels? Let’s not forget that Collin Kindin was a Cleric. One of the fiercest fighters and tanks you will ever meet. Clerics can fight, heal, crowd control, and never forget about the Undead. Don’t leave home without one. But two is always better. My point is, you have Rangers, Hunters, Shadow Knights, Assassins, Mages, Sorcerers, Druids, Shamen, Witches and Necromancers, and probably twice as many sub classes once you climb a couple levels. They exist for a reason. Disarming traps, hunting bounty targets, detecting hidden passages. Speak to the Dead, Detect Magic, False Walls. All these spells or abilities have, at one time or another, led me to the rarest loot or most unique artifacts in the entire dungeon. There’s always one, even in the lowest level runs. If you’re the one to find it, then you get to loot it. No rolling.”

There were murmurs of appreciation and lust from the students. Zuglah had to hand it to the Dwarf; he certainly knew his audience. “Denton, Warwick. You have a range to choose from before you. Who’s it going to be?”

Their consultation was very brief. Warwick turned to the instructor and said, “We’d like the Troll, please.”

A babble of voices invaded his mind, join us, Zuglah Glun. Join. He’s huge let’s get him some armor. Join us please, Wizard.