Well, metaphorically he is silently calling out for help. Alone and behind closed doors, he is studying and preparing for and doing the hardest work in his life. Openly, he is doing business with the most legendary service workers in the whole town, and preparing to do more. Welcome to the first chapter of Jax's adult life.

Wind buffeted the windows of the second-story library as Jax took a sip of his steaming tea and read by candlelight. Rain pattered the windows in a chaotic rhythm as he flipped slowly through the pages of the strange journal he found hidden in the corner of the library. He looked up as he thought about the strange developments of the last week. First, he was released from the hellhole of an orphanage where he was imprisoned for thirteen years. Then he was told that his parents' assets had been locked away for over a decade, simply awaiting him to inherit them.

Jax had lived a pretty hard life. His father had died before he was born, he was conceived the night before his father died, at least his mother used to say that. He didn’t remember much about his mother either. She died when the Necrotic Plague hit the western kingdoms when he was only five years old. The Necrotic Plague was a weapon of mass destruction made by a madman to kill even the strongest of individuals. It just lowered your stats over time, but quickly enough so that you eventually got weak enough that, even as a level 100, a bee sting was venomous enough to kill you.

His mother died trying to treat the infected. A high-level noble had acquired the disease and his mother was treating him. He went mad from paranoia after losing most of his stat points and ended up killing most of his staff and family. Jax felt no need for revenge because the king himself ordered a most vicious decree to punish the noble and make an example of him. He was tied up with enchanted ropes and thrown into the sewers to drown in the waste of the common people. A most fitting end in Jax’s private opinion.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, trying to clear his mind of the depressing thoughts that bother him so often. He sips his tea and sets out to read once more, calmed by the subtle rhythm of rainfall and the occasional sputtering of the candle beside him. After a short while of reading, he stumbles upon the most interesting section of the book. It was about a legendary class, lost to the ages. It was a class called Ninja. Instead of the usual mana or stamina cost, it used a highly adaptable resource called “energy”. It was consumed incredibly quickly and recovered at an equally high rate.

It seems that the writer of the journal had developed a slight obsession with the class after falling in love with a Ninja he had met after sailing to the eastern isles. They had unique weaponry and a unique fighting style different from anything he had ever seen, heard, or read about in his life. It reminded him of the tales his mother used to tell him about his father’s assassin class. Working in the shadows and eliminating enemies before they even had the chance to strike, but more diverse and with much higher potential. Jax felt it was an awesome class, and he wanted to try getting it but decided to sleep on it.

Stretching and yawning, he closes the book and downs the last of the now lukewarm tea. He picks up the candle and looks around the library, finding it tidy enough, with only the journal not on the shelves. He gets up and heads downstairs to his old bedroom. He had decided that he didn’t want to sleep in his mother’s bed until it was replaced. He found the thought of sleeping in his late mother’s bed quite uncomfortable.

As he puts out all the lights in the house and makes sure the doors are locked he thinks about the week of work he had put into dusting and tidying the house that now belonged to him. His home was in the upper-middle class district of a decently sized city. It was one of the largest on the street, two stories with a massive rooftop greenhouse and a rooftop bar. There was also a training area taking up half of the backyard and a small promenade leading to a classy little gondola. It took a while to clear out the weeds and such from the greenhouse and clear the yard and training area but it was well worth it.

Yawning once more, he puts out the final light, the candle he was carrying and slowly gets under the covers of his old bed. It was a queen size bed, and far more comfortable than the flea-ridden beds of hay he had been sleeping on for thirteen years straight. Pulling up the covers and snuggling deeper into the soft pillows he falls asleep quickly, and dreams of dancing along the night unseen, casting ninjutsu on unsuspecting prey.

Jax wakes to golden light streaming through his bedroom window, illuminating his room in a nearly divine-looking light. The occasional pattering of raindrops falling off the edge of rooftops onto the street below is interrupted by a carriage riding past, thunking gently on the cobblestones. He smiles, excited to once again wake up in a home of his own, and looks out the window to see the carriage wheel splash through a puddle and drench a nearby pedestrian in rainwater.

“Oof.” He whispers as the carriage driver waves in apology to the young lady who clearly had somewhere to be, based on how she was dressed. He puts on a simple outfit, a dark gray pair of pants and a white shirt, with a black hooded sweater to keep him warm through the morning chill, and heads into the kitchen to make a simple breakfast and some tea. He searches the kitchen and realizes he needs to go shopping soon, with only a few strips of bacon, a few eggs, and a rather ridiculous amount of tea. There weren’t many options for what to eat, but it was better than the gruel and donated leftovers thrown into the stew he was used to.

He grabs a pan and activates the heating rune used to power the stove and gets to cooking and preparing some morning tea. The house was installed with advanced enchantments to refrigerate, freeze and cook food as necessary. There was also one for heating and cooling water, and there were even temperature control elements used to control the temperature if it got too hot or cold. The enchantments needed to be charged, and the light crystals were also in need of replacement, but that was an easy fix. He was just glad to have his family home.

He grimaced as he remembered the agent hired by the local government to help him take care of his affairs after he turned eighteen. He had recommended Jax sell the house for a cheaper place so he could have some leftover Valis for developing his lifestyle and advancing his career. A bunch of rubbish if you ask him. The man just wanted his parents' rare collection to himself, which after a little bit of browsing and research, he had found out was worth more than the house itself, and he hadn't even checked the whole house yet.

He set down his plate on the large dinner table with his tea that had just finished steeping. He takes a sip, not knowing what to expect; Bitter, with a hint of sweetness and a strange taste like the root of some strange plant. “Licorice Root and Ginger” the jar had said. Of course, he was aware of what ginger was, and what it tasted like, but licorice root was a foreign taste and one he found he didn’t mind. The bittersweet taste reminded him of what it felt like to finally return to this empty home.

After enjoying his meal and cup of tea, he starts to make plans for the day. First, he was going to have to visit a talented blacksmith to get the weapons for his class forged, which was probably going to be rather difficult. Next was grocery shopping and buying some drinks to fill the rooftop bar. He also had to get the temperature enchantments restored, and the light crystals replaced. Their runic energy storage had about a week's worth of charge left. Finally, he had to find a party capable of taking him out to the wilderness to fulfill the requirements for his class and someone trustworthy enough to advise him on how to survive such an endeavor. Lots of work to do, so Jax quickly set to cleaning the dishes and heading out to get the job done.

Making sure the door was locked, he steps away from the front door. Little to his knowledge he was quite a peculiar sight, especially in this part of town. He was wearing a brand new pair of sweatpants, baggy, with a baggy black hooded sweatshirt on a sunny day. They were made of rather good quality fabric, but were, in many’s eyes, the outfit of a hoodlum. He wore leather shoes that reached his ankles, with sturdy soles and laces, and a small black tuque.

The backpack he wore completed the unique look. It was white, with black detailing, and a Yin-Yang symbol the size of an outstretched hand was intricately woven into the sturdy fabric, facing outwards when worn. The logo was one he had found in one of his parents' books as a child and had been his favorite symbol since. His mother had told him it represented balance, and that his father had worn it as well since he was a child. He had spent a lot of Valis on this current outfit to be custom-made. But clothes of this make had served him well for years, and he thought he deserved to spend a little. No one else he knew could either afford a gift for him reaching adulthood or cared to give him one.

He walks the clean city streets, trying not to see the well-off individuals as posh and vain people as he continues with his head down, thinking humbly of the trials ahead. He was heading to a blacksmith who had a reputation for being feisty, yet reliably talented. It wasn’t far, he reached it in about half an hour. It was a large building, with a massive courtyard. The building had a wooden sign decorated with an array of metals, depicting a hammer and anvil. Written in ancient runes was “Ulark’s Forge”. The buildings outside had a surprisingly slightly eastern style, with curved roof tiles and clay drain pipes leading into a small water supply feeding through the wall, presumably into the courtyard.

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Jax cautiously approached the entrance, trying to recall his lessons about dwarves and their mannerisms with humans and how to act when dealing with one of their most sacred beliefs, forging. What he did not expect was to walk into a room made of simple stone, lit a deep blue by mysterious runes and filled with weapons that were displayed artfully, some reaching prices that matched the value of his home, others selling for a handful of Valis. The outside and inside were incredibly different, shockingly so to Jax. The interior was western mountain dwarf style mostly? He wasn’t sure.

Just then, a bang sounds like a hammer striking a stone behind the counter. A young dwarf, somewhere around seventeen or eighteen pokes her head from behind the counter. She was rather beautiful, at least in the special way that some dwarves can be. She had a thick braid going down the center of her back, looped with thick golden rings, and gold ear piercings. She had slightly tanned skin and a strong set to her jaw, with a gentle nose and green eyes flecked with gold. She was rubbing the back of her head with a slightly pained expression. Jax takes a step forward and does his best to make a good first impression.

“That looks like it hurt,” Jax says, gesturing to her head.

“It did.” She nods and winces. “Son of a bitch…” she mutters, rubbing it once more before dusting her hands off on her apron. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m interested in having some rather unique weapons specially crafted. I have the designs written down, even the dimensions of the weapons and the material. The thing is I have no idea how they are crafted… I was hoping I could rely on you for that matter.” She nods in response and thinks for a second before answering.

“Well how about I check it out, and if I can’t figure it out I'm sure my dad will be able to forge it, no problem.” She replies as she pulls a stool out from behind the counter and places it in front before gesturing to it and sitting on the other side. Jax takes a seat and takes the journal out of his backpack before going to the pages with the two weapons he was planning on getting crafted. He turns the book and points to the depiction of a kunai. Her eyes widen at the sight and she gives him a strange look before taking the notebook from him and inspecting the writing closely for a few moments. Jax’s foot twitches nervously.

She nods and rubs her chin.

“Well, this looks like it won't be very hard to make at all. You could get these crafted by my father for full price or at half price by me. Free if you bring the materials.”Jax’s eyes widened slightly at the deal being offered, it was not a bad one. He thinks for a moment. If she can make a quality product then there’s no point in shortchanging them by going out now to buy materials for cheap and getting this apprentice to work free of profit.

“How about I get you to forge these kunai and request your father make the second weapon?” I offer, taking back the journal gently and turning the page to the ninjato before offering it to her again. She nods again, seeming to agree with the deal before lifting a single finger and walking through the door that led to the courtyard. A minute or two later she walks back in with another dwarf, presumably Ulark. He had a fiery look. His black and spiked orange-tipped hair seemed to glow like the embers of a forge and his short beard looked like the opposite, fiery red with tips covered in soot. It was one of the most interesting things Jax had ever seen.

“What do ye’ need son?” His voice churned out, sounding somewhat like a machine churning out gravel, somehow forming words. Jax hesitated a moment before reaching out and pointing to the journal.

“I was hoping you could craft this shortsword for me. It is an ancient design and even back then, I’m pretty sure it was rather rare. The details are all written on the page.”

Ulark’s eyebrows raise as he inspects the details written in the journal. He seems to get lost in thought for a moment before coughing and raising his gaze to me. I hadn’t noticed before but his eyes were like his daughter’s, but deep brown flecked with little pieces of red, like embers dancing through the earth.

“I can do it for you. But first ye’ must tell me where ye’ found this journal.” He speaks menacingly, narrowing his eyes at my pause before quickly sifting through the pages adjacent to the one I showed. My eyes narrow in return and I answer honestly, if a little spitefully at his suspicion.

“It is a part of the inheritance of my late parents. My father found it in the last dungeon he explored before he died.” At that he simply raises an eyebrow and continues to review the pages with weapons and outfit designs on them, not bothering to read any of the information other than the statistics on the weapon dimensions and the outfits. He closes the journal and smiles at me as if he had a revelation.

“How about this, young lad.” He exclaims, setting the journal on the counter and clapping his hands together. “You lend me this journal for a few days,” He waves his hands in the air disarmingly “I promise I won’t read any of the personal information or nothin’, just lemme’ copy down the information on this equipment and I’ll personally make you eighteen of these kunai and a ninjato.” He points at the journal now in between them, laying on the counter. “You come back in three days and I’ll have them both crafted and the journal’s information copied.” Jax nods and the old dwarf’s eyes light up expectantly.

“That, and I get a discount on future items that are in the journal and any style of weapon and armor you craft inspired by them.” Jax counters with. He simply nods and extends his hand.

“That’s a deal my boy, pleasure doing business.”

“Likewise.” And they shake hands, and just like that, he walks out of the store saving enough money to feed himself for a month at least, and more in the future, hopefully.

He wanders the streets for a time, gathering ingredients. He buys some meat from a butcher, both fresh meat and salted and seasoned jerky, a few types just to spice it up. He visits a few stalls run by merchants from the south and has a pleasant discussion about the spices and teas they grow before purchasing a basket full of fresh fruit. As he leaves he receives a parting gift from the kind stranger. It was a rare tea called chai tea. He suggested mixing it with milk or cream and a dash of cinnamon, as it was a mix of spices and black teas that create a unique flavor.

Deciding to make this trip more often as he leaves the fruit stand waving, he goes to a local bar that the more troublesome orphans used to steal the occasional drink from, rumor had it that they have some of the best drinks in town. He walks in, remembering the meat in his pack, and decides to make this as quick as possible. He walks up to the bartender and politely asks;

“Excuse me?” receiving a nod to continue in response, “Do you happen to have some drinks that are good for the fall and winter? Something that blends with the seasons?” The old bartender, appearing to be a man in his fifties, smirks. As he does the ends of his curled mustache lean inward and his goatee seems to stretch, making it an even finer point.

“I happen to have just acquired a good amount of stock for fall, you might have to come back for the winter stock later though, we usually don’t get those until late fall. I’ll give you a fair deal on a bottle of Cuhian Spiced Rum and a bottle of Smoked Applewood Whiskey. I will also offer you a bottle of rare Cognac for half price if you buy three bottles, not a bad idea considering it is the most expensive of the three.”

“I’ll take it, how much will it be?”

“Let's say… 15000 valis.” Jax heaves a breath, he just can’t get used to spending more than a couple of hundred Valis at a time, especially on alcohol, but he wanted something to give the party he worked with a gift for getting him his class, and a rooftop party sounded delightful. As he pulled out most of the cash he was planning on spending on the equipment, he thinks about how he had still come out of today saving a lot more Valis than he had expected. He places the three 5000 Valis notes on the table and turns to leave.

The bartender taps his fingers on the counter, clearly to get Jax’s attention, and he turns around and eyes the bartender warily. He simply smiles and with catlike grace and dexterity pulls out a glass, spins it on its corner, and pours a double of the same type of whiskey he had just purchased. Jax simply raises an eyebrow as the man gestures to the glass.

“I hate to see a customer just reaching his eighteenth birthday walk out of here with such a dreadfully long face, you look like a horse! Have a drink, on the house, you can call it a sample.” He says as he playfully winks at Jax who stood there for a moment, indecisive. Then after little to no deliberation, he simply takes the shot glass, sniffs lightly, and takes a small sip. His eyes widened at the stacked flavor coming from the drink, he honestly nearly teared up, the flavor was so strong and deep. After considering how to enjoy it, the glass rolling in his hand, he takes another sip, then another. Already feeling the inexplicable dread that was settling in his bones start to seep out and fade away he decides to approach the bartender quickly for some information.

“Do you happen to know of any experienced martial classed people who might be willing to offer me lessons on my first trip into the wilderness, to acquire a class? I don’t need help with the class, just would appreciate some guidance on the best method to survive the endeavor.”

“Just come back here at 10:00 AM for the next three days and I can teach you myself. I may not look it but I’m level 21. And I personally did most of my campaigns solo back in the day. Truth be told, I’ve gotten seventeen people in their class.”

Jax nods.

“When will you need the class requirements?” He prods inquisitively.

“Tomorrow.”

“How much will it cost?”

“1500 Valis an hour. Most likely three hours a day, so 4500 Valis a day. Most able young men can learn in a week or so. You’ll likely end up paying around 35000 Valis total”

“I will pay you at the end of the day every day, in full.”

Jax finished the verbal contract by shaking his hand. He places down his backpack gently, then fills it up with the bottles placed on the counter. As he places his first hand, the bartender grabs his hand and places the second bottle of Whiskey on the counter. It was fresh off the top shelf. The second and third bottles are placed into the backpack just as fast, just as silently. With his backpack full of meat and booze, he thanks the bartender with a most legendary reputation in the streets; and departs.

He walks the streets in hope of some eggs and a basket.

The Bartender and the Runesmith think to themselves at that moment… “He will learn.”